Grace's Mistake
by mrhungry

Author's Note: This story contains adult themes, bondage and discipline, nudity, and sexual content meant for mature readers only.

Grace is a fictional character I created to use in RP's I conduct with Miss Ellie and slavejenny. This story was written for jenny and Ellie, but I'll post it to share with everyone. This will be a fairly predictable story, but I hope you will still enjoy reading it. Let me know, if you would be so kind.

The girl-rail described is a borrowed idea from the wonderful writings of Graham and Annabelle, both of whom can be found at writingsofleviticus.grometspla…  

Miss Ellie's name and character is used with her permission.

Part One - The Fantasy

Things were coming together nicely for the Chef as she looked at the clock above her oven and calculated backwards from eight o'clock, the time her employer had asked that dinner be served. Some might think that to be a late hour to be dining, but Mr. Donelli did not keep a nine-to-five schedule. He was known to work very late into the evening, if not all evening.

The lasagna was made and in the refrigerator, along with the salad and the wine. She had just rolled out the dough for the breadsticks and placed the unbaked dough on an insulated baking sheet. Once this was in the refrigerator she set about cleaning up the kitchen.

The forty-one year old woman had been the head chef at La Foli, a French restaurant at the top of the Chase Tower downtown, when she had first met the multi-millionaire businessman, Darios Donelli. She had seen him in the restaurant on a couple of occasions, each time dining with a very elegant French woman. The last time they had dined at the restaurant, Mr. Donelli had requested to speak with her.

"Grace, you have to come and work for me," he said when she stood before him at their large table near the window. "Please don't take offense, Elisabeth," he went on, his comment directed at the woman across from him, "but I have never particularly cared for French cuisine."  The woman gave him a slight shrug and a smirk that indicated she didn't mind his comment. Looking up at the Chef, Darios said, "But this is spectacular, and if I can enjoy this, I'd love to see what you could do in my kitchen."

The recent management change at the upscale restaurant had caused a great deal of commotion in the restaurant, and many of the wait staff, and a few cooks working for Grace, had left. Two weeks later she decided to call Mr. Donelli to see if that had been a serious offer, and found that it was.

She had to laugh, thinking of that now, because she could count on one hand the number of times she had been asked to prepare a French meal in the ten years she had worked for him. It didn't matter to her what food she was asked to make, though. For the money she was earning, she would happily prepare peanut butter and jelly sandwiches if that was what he desired. And as usual, the thought of pleasing her employer brought on that warm feeling she had long ago identified as arousal. It was a sensation that she loved and hated at the same time.

From the start, Grace had never held any aspirations of becoming Mrs. Donelli. Their relationship had been strictly professional, and she had found that the master of the house had no difficulty in attracting a wide array of beauties to share his bed with. Most didn't stay long, but a few became more serious dalliances. One in particular changed her employer in ways no other had. But that relationship had ended rather abruptly, too.

Expecting Mr. Donelli to be moody after the break-up, Grace had been surprised when he returned from a business trip with another woman on his arm. Well, on his arm was not quite accurate; the woman was led into the foyer on a leash attached to a collar around her neck. If that hadn't been enough of a surprise, the woman was probably close to her own age, and not far from her own build. She was not the usual Barbie-doll super model, but the housewife next door, albeit a very pretty housewife.

Jenny was her name, not that it was used much. Darios called her all sorts of names, most of them unflattering, and some downright mean. But the woman seemed not to mind one bit, and also seemed to enjoy playing the part of the sex slave for her 'Master'. Grace had watched the woman carefully to catch any hint that she was really just after her employer's riches, but it didn't take long to see that that was not the case at all.

As bizarre as this arrangement was, Grace found herself liking Jenny quite a bit. She discovered that she could identify with the woman on a very basic level, and that involved the feeling she got when she served Mr. Donelli. There was something about the man that stimulated her in ways she had never expected. Seeing how he controlled Jenny only exacerbated those feelings, and caused many a fantasy filled night.

Those fantasies were kept to herself, of course, but at times it was all she could do to keep her hands out of her panties. Near her feet she saw the source of her most recent fantasies.

Running along between the cabinets on the one side, and the island in the middle of the large kitchen, was an iron rail set into the floor itself. This rail connected to another rail running the length of the kitchen, and then out into the hallway at one end, and into the dining room on the other end. Rails were laid throughout the mansion, and even out onto the huge deck in back.

When required, the rail could be covered up with tiles that matched the flooring perfectly. But Mr. Donelli had left the house with Jenny late the day before and had left the rail, or the girl-rail, as he referred to it, uncovered.  

Letting the water drain out of the sink, Grace thought about Jenny, and about how much she enjoyed being chained to the girl-rail. Even now, wherever they had gone off to, the woman was probably chained to a rail. Darios had taken a large van and had it modified so that a rail was built into the flooring in the back end. A special ramp was designed to make the transfer from the house to the van possible without unlocking the chain from Jenny's collar. The special ball at the end of the chain that ran along the rail simply went from one section of the rail to the next. Jenny had been quite excited about this new method of keeping her captive at all times within the mansion, and now, outside of it, too.

Grace removed her apron and hung it on a peg inside a small closet by the back entry door. Looking up at a shelf higher in the closet, she saw one of Jenny's spare collars.

Just close the door...

Her palms grew moist and her heart raced as she glanced over at the clock on the stove. One o'clock. It would be hours before Darios returned...until her...Master returned.

Close the door! I can't...I shouldn't...

The collar was brown leather, old, and well worn. Grace had seen Jenny wear it, and remembered how she had looked with it around her throat. For some reason Darios called his slave his "old whore" when she wore that particular collar. Did the age of the collar make the wearer look older? If it did, he didn't seem to mind. Nor did Jenny. Maybe it was for this reason that Grace's hand stretched up to touch the collar.

Shit.

The collar was in her hand now.

Put it on, you old whore. Another glance at the clock. Do I dare?

Grace yearned to feel the leather around her neck, just once. Her employer was not scheduled to be home for several hours, and it was in her hands now. This was her fantasy, did she dare to act it out? Darios would never know, and she had plenty of time.

The excited woman brought the leather band around her neck and held the ends together against her neck, below her chin. It felt so good, just like she knew it would. Nervously, she fed the end through the loop and pulled it tighter. Along the surface of the collar there were small holes that an extended rivet on the other end of the leather strip could be pushed through. There was a hole at the end of that rivet that a lock could be passed through, thus locking the collar on.

Grace was so glad there was no lock in the closet! That would have been so tempting...and so dangerous! Standing on her toes, she looked on the upper shelf for a lock, but found none. Just as well!

This didn't mean she couldn't pretend the old leather collar was really locked on. Her hand slid down her belly and under the waistband of her knee length dark green skirt. Pressing her fingers against her flesh, they slipped past the waistband of her white cotton panties and sank into her pussy. With a moan she felt her arousal and leaned against the marble top of the island.

NO! Stop that you old whore. Who gave you permission to touch yourself? She could hear Darios' rebuke. He often made Jenny jump with his commands, and she would have a look in her eyes that was hard to distinguish if it was fear or lust. It was probably both.

Grace pulled her hand out of her dress, but her heart still raced from the arousal she was feeling and the adrenaline from experiencing her fantasy. Looking up towards the back door, she saw the narrow storage door that had recently been built there when the rails had been installed. She knew what was stored there, and her hand shook as she reached for the small knob.

With the door open, she saw the chain. It was a thick, heavy chain, with a ball at the end; a ball that was trapped within the girl-rail. It was stored there near the back door so that Jenny could be bound to it as soon as she entered the house. Grace's mind raced as she thought of Jenny moving around the house, tethered to the girl-rail, locked to her Master's house. The thought was such a common fantasy that she already knew how hot she would feel tethered like her British friend.

Reaching into the narrow space, she unhooked the chain from its peg and looked at it. The last link was skinnier than the others, and looked like a large C, with a slot in the one side large enough to slip through the hole in the rivet on the collar. It was strange, because it didn't seem like the chain could be locked on with the last link open like it was. Maybe Darios used the second to the last link for the lock, and the last link was for something else. But only the thinner last link would fit through the hole.

It didn't matter. As far as Grace was concerned, it was better this way. She was not so full of lust that she would lock herself to the rail!

Moving away from the wall, towards the center of her kitchen, she was surprised at the weight of the chain. It slid along in the rail quite easily and she suspected the ball beneath the flooring was equipped with ball bearings of some sort to make it glide like it did. But the weight! Jenny made it look so easy as she pranced around the mansion. Grace had to consciously straighten her back to keep from walking in a stoop.

Making the circuit around the island, she felt her arousal begin to peak once again! She knew, of course, she was over-dressed. Jenny would never be allowed clothing when she was bound to the girl-rail. Grace looked at the clock and was surprised that only ten minutes had passed. It seemed like it had been an hour already.

Before she could regain her sanity, the highly aroused chef began to unbutton her blouse. She chuckled nervously as her fingers trembled, and the buttons suddenly seemed too large to fit through the holes. When she had finally worked the buttons, she slipped out of the blouse and draped it over the countertop of the island. Reaching behind her, and up under her silky camisole, she unhooked her bra and slipped the straps down so that she could wiggle out of it without removing her last vestige of cover.

The silky top felt fabulous against her sensitive nipples, and she looked down to see them both poking proudly against the fabric. Stopping to listen to the sounds of the house, she held onto the door handle of the refrigerator to steady herself and catch her breath.

It was quiet in the mansion. She was alone. Stepping out of her shoes and walking slowly towards the west end of the kitchen, she pushed against the swinging door that separated her space from the formal dining room. She imagined herself carrying a tray to her Master's table, naked of course!

CLICK!

"What?!"

Grace immediately felt as though she was going to wet herself. She knew how this rail system worked...but she thought all of the rails were open. She had gone through the door okay, but that click was unmistakable. She pushed the door open in the other direction and tried to re-enter the kitchen, but the chain would not pass.

"No! Oh God, no! Come on!" She pulled on the chain; nothing. She backed up and tugged.

Clink! There was a softer metallic sound, but one quite close to her.

She reached up to the collar around her neck and felt the links of the chain. What had been an open link was now a solid oval. How could that be?!! She felt the link with both hands and verified that there was no longer an opening. She was locked to the chain!

She suddenly felt like such an old fool! She could've easily slipped the link out of the collar stud when the girl-rail gate closed. It appeared that her own actions had somehow triggered the link, and now her fantasy had just become her reality.