Wednesday Evening

 

 

“Mrs Williamson? I am sorry to trouble you again. This is Mr Yens.”

 

“Making sure he doesn’t get another face-full of bruised breast by announcing himself this time,” thought Kay as she made sure she was decent and opened the door.

 

“Ah, Good evening Mrs Williamson. I am so sorry to interrupt your evening, but might I have a quick word?”

 

“Of course Mr Yens. Please come in.”

 

“Ah, thank you.”

 

He stepped inside and cleared his throat as if he was about to say something awkward.

 

“In the course of running a, shall we say, unusual establishment such as this, there are of course any number of strange and sometimes difficult circumstances that arise, and I pride myself that I have found ways of dealing with the majority of these in the most satisfactory manner possible. The situation of yourself and Mr Williamson is not actually uncommon and hence we have chalets such as this to provide a haven of compromise.”

 

“And I am of course most grateful Mr Yens. It’s a shame my husband decided to refuse your compromise, but I think that’s his loss really.”

 

“Indeed. But however, much as I try to think I have seen every possible circumstance here, there are always new ones which I must find ways to deal with acceptably, and it seems that I have one such now.”

 

“Oh, and it involves me does it?”

 

“Indeed it does. Now if I might explain, you are of course aware of our policy that all guests must participate equally in the theme of the week in order to prevent any awkwardness or embarrassment.”

 

“I am. And I think it’s a great idea. I’ve spent several wonderful days in your hotel dressed in, err, a rather revealing manner, and I would have found it all very difficult if all the other ladies were not similarly dressed.”

 

“Ah, good. I am glad that you approve. And it is of course for this reason that I unfortunately cannot let you stay in the main hotel on your own. This week is strictly for couples only. We do not want any unaccompanied potential masters forcing their attentions on unenthusiastic slaves do we?”

 

“Oh no. That would be horrible.”

 

“And neither would we really want a master to have two or more slaves, a harem if you will, for that might set up envy or awkwardness with other guests. You could see that could you not?”

 

“Err, yes, I suppose so. But how does that affect me?”

 

“Well it seems that two of my guests, Mr and Mrs Burns, whom I believe you are well acquainted with, have offered, with your approval of course, to take you, err, under their wing so to speak, so that you could return to the main hotel and its facilities, if that is something that would interest you.”

 

“You mean Jason and Jocelyn have offered to err…”

 

“That is correct. They have proposed that you would act as Mr Burns’ slave for the remainder of the week. Alongside Mrs Burns.”

 

“Mr Burns’ slave? I see.”

 

“Of course exactly what duties Mr Burns would expect from you is a matter strictly between yourself and Mr Burns, but so long as you were prepared to act appropriately in the public areas of the hotel then it might be allowable if that would be your wish.”

 

“I see.”

 

“There is just one small problem though. As I said earlier, I could not allow one master to have more than one slave.”

 

“That does seem to be a problem then.”

 

“However, if two ladies were to consent to be permanently fastened together, then I could perhaps accept that as being just one slave, and therefore acceptable within the rules of the week.”

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite understand that. Did you say ‘fastened together’?”

 

“I did. I would propose that perhaps a chain of not more than shall we say, two meters in length, locked to the collars of the ladies’ straitjackets would be acceptable. Fastened thus, the master would only really have one slave would he not?”

 

“Mr Yens, I’m sorry if I appear to be rather stupid, but I don’t think I fully understand. Are you proposing that I can continue my holiday as a slave with Joss, err Mr and Mrs Burns, if I am chained to Mrs Burns the whole time?”

 

“That is correct.”

 

“And the three of you just worked all this out without consulting me?”

 

“Well I am consulting you now. It is of course completely your decision. You are most welcome to stay here in the chalet if you prefer.”

 

“And what does Joss, err Mrs Burns have to say about being chained to me for the rest of her holiday?”

 

“She was rather enthusiastic about the idea. I could actually go as far as to say the idea might have originated with Mrs Burns.”

 

“Oh it did, did it?”

 

“But perhaps it might be better if you were not to mention that I made that small piece of information available. Well I will leave you in peace now Mrs Williamson. Please take some time to consider what you wish to do. I must stress that I place no pressure upon you. You can of course speak to Mrs and Mr Burns on the telephone and if they are not in their room then please contact reception and my staff will locate them for you. Please have a pleasant evening.”

 

Mr Yens opened the door to leave.

 

“Just one more thing, I might require you to sign a consent form if you wish to accept Mr Burns’ offer. Just to keep the hotel’s position clear. Good evening.”

 

Kay was left alone feeling absolutely stunned. She didn’t know whether to feel happy and grateful that her friends were prepared to go to such lengths to let her finish her holiday in the style she had come here for, or to be furious at all the plotting and scheming that had been done behind her back. She went back out onto the deck and took a long swill of wine straight from the bottle. She sat down and tried to get her head around it all. Then she went to her phone.

 

“You better get your arse down here Burns. We need to talk. And bring that scheming wife of yours with you.”

 

 

Five minutes later, Jason was leaning on the railing around Kay’s sundeck. “So I’m assuming Mr Yens has been to see you,” he said.

 

“He has,” replied Kay sternly. “It seems I am the subject of the most devious, perverted, underhanded, and rather lovely piece of plotting since… erm”

 

“A certain windsurf race?”

 

“That wasn’t me. It was Yens. And Joss here was the one who put him up to it.”

 

“The thing is Kay,” said Jocelyn who was sitting on one of Kay’s loungers, “I would have asked you this afternoon, but I had to ask Jason first really didn’t I. And then when we agreed, we thought we would check with Mr Yens before we asked you in case he vetoed it. But then he insisted on speaking to you first. It must seem like we were all plotting behind your back. The thing is, we hate the thought of you stuck out here on your own, and we think Steve is an arse for leaving you, especially after your fall.”

 

“And not forgetting that Joss has got the hots for you,” added Jason.

 

“Yes, and that too,” said Jocelyn.

 

“Well it’s lovely of you both, but I can’t possibly accept. It’s your holiday and I’d just be intruding.”

 

“Kay, we didn’t come here for lovey-dovey, being-on-our-own-together romance. We came here for kinky bondage,” said Jocelyn.

 

“And windsurfing,” added Jason. “And what could be kinkier than keeping a lady as a slave in bondage? That’s right. Keeping two ladies as slaves in bondage.”

 

“Yes, but I couldn’t…”

 

“Just this afternoon you were talking about staying for another week with me,” interrupted Jocelyn.

 

“But that’s different.”

 

“So my wife has been plotting extra holiday time with you eh?”

 

“No, it was just a joke. Tell him Joss.”

 

“Seemed pretty serious to me.”

 

“Look it’s lovely of you both to offer, but I am still a married woman, I think, and my husband just left this morning. I can’t just, err, jump into bed with someone else right away. Even if it is you, err, both of you.”

 

“Seriously Kay, you wouldn’t be intruding,” said Jason suddenly sounding very sincere. “And while I would have to say you are one of the most attractive and exciting women I have ever met, regardless of your marital status I have no desire to be unfaithful to my wife. So there’d be no jumping into bed with me. And I understand you didn’t actually wait for Steve to leave before jumping into bed with Joss here on Monday.”

 

“I know, but… Well what happens when I need the loo. Who’s going to wipe my arse afterwards if I’m in a straitjacket?”

 

“The lot of a slave owner is one of dirty toil, but somehow I would manage. It’s only for two days Kay.”

 

“Come on Kay. Two days chained up together. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

 

Kay looked at Jocelyn. She was back in her straitjacket and was partially dressed for dinner in her hobbleskirt and high heels and she had on very red lipstick, but no eye makeup.

 

“Did I phone just when you were about to put on your hood?” Kay asked.

 

“You mean my super sexy, tight, black, leather hood, the same as the one you have? Yes you did.”

 

“Yes, the super-sexy, tight, black, leather hood you could be wearing to dinner tomorrow night,” said Jason.

 

“Oh stop it. That’s not fair.”

 

“No it’s not fair of us at all is it Jason” said Jocelyn as she conspicuously swung her legs up onto the lounger to show off her skirt.

 

“Oh, you two are just evil,” said Kay in exasperation. “Stop teasing.”

 

“Yes Joss. You’re a naughty girl for teasing poor Kay here by talking about your sexy, tight, restrictive bondage gear. I think an extra large butt plug for you tomorrow as penance.”

 

“Oh Master. Thank you. And will you put me in the pillory tomorrow too.”

 

“Yes, yes! You’ve made your point,” yelped Kay. “You wouldn’t err, really put her in the pillory would you?”

 

“It would have to be you as well if you were chained to her.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Tell you what Kay,” said Jason. “Why don’t we have dinner here tonight and we can talk it over. Work out some ground-rules and anything we’re not comfortable with, then you can sleep on it. And we can start in the morning if you still want to go for it.”

 

“Yes, if we had dinner here,” said Jocelyn, “being as I’m already in my straitjacket, perhaps you could feed me little morsels from your plate Kay, sort of like you’re my mistress.”

 

“Ooh, now if you put it that way, please let me invite you both to dinner tonight, right here on my lovely deck,” said Kay. “And thank you. Both of you. Just one thing though, this being chained together to make one slave thing, it wasn’t really Mr Yens’ idea was it?”

 

“Totally, absolutely his idea,” said Jocelyn

 

“He might have had a little prompting from someone with big, blonde hair though,” said Jason. “He’s funny is Mr Yens. He comes over all aloof and detached, but I think he’s as warped as the rest of us.”

 

“Prompting eh?” said Kay. “I think a naughty girl might need some tormenting with her food, being as she’ll be reliant on her mistress to feed her.”

 

“Oh, not fair,” said Jocelyn in mock annoyance.

 

Food was duly ordered and the three friends sat out on Kay’s deck eating and drinking, and in between bouts of teasing Jocelyn with her food, talking about various things, but mainly the terms and conditions of Kay’s new fantasy enslavement. It was decided that she would actually be Jocelyn’s slave, and thereby only indirectly enslaved to Jason. She was, as per Mr Yens’ requirement, to be chained to her slave mistress at all times, something that Jocelyn seemed particularly excited about. Any form of sexual contact between Kay and Jason was strictly prohibited unless it was related to administering Kay’s bondage or any punishment that was deemed necessary. At night, Jason would have half of the bed and Jocelyn the other half. It would be at her sole discretion whether she would share her half, or make Kay sleep on the floor. If Kay was in the bed, then Jocelyn must be between her and Jason. If Jason and Jocelyn were having sex then Kay would be blindfolded, or better, hooded to allow them privacy. Kay would be submissive to her mistress at all times and would satisfy any of her sexual desires without question, and Jason warned that his wife’s debauchery threshold was rather high. In as far as Kay’s injuries would allow, she and Jocelyn would always be in identical bondage, including a butt plug at all times, and it was understood that her bottom would be filled with water at least once before the holiday was over.

 

“Okay, where do I sign?” said Kay when the ‘negotiations’ were complete.

 

“Actually, I think at the front desk,” said Jocelyn. “Mr Yens said he might want another consent form.”

 

“Ah, yes. He mentioned that. What a strange job he must have. I’m not sure I would want to do it. Look at the trouble we’re causing him and we’re all nice perverts. I bet he gets some real head-cases sometimes.”

 

“Well you might think that,” said Jason, “but in eight visits here we haven’t seen anything really unpleasant have we Joss?”

 

“I think he gets a better class of pervert here.”

 

“Well I have to say, I’m enjoying being a pervert and not having to hide it,” said Kay. “For as long as I can remember I’ve had this kinky streak running through me and have felt it something that I had to hide and be ashamed of. I was married to Steve for three years before I plucked up the courage to ask him to just tie me up a little bit. But here, it’s like nobody judges, nobody’s embarrassed, and I can just be myself. The most embarrassed I’ve been is when I walked down to reception this morning in my normal clothes. I was relieved that I didn’t meet anyone on the way.”

 

“That’s the genius of Mr Yens’ rules,” said Jason. “They seem weird, even stupid at first, but then you see why he has them. Nobody’s embarrassed because we’re all exactly the same. Except me of course ‘cause I’m gonna have a double slave. Yay.”

 

“That’s only if I go through with it. I’ve got to sleep on it remember?”

 

“Yeah, like you’re going to change your mind. I can see both of you juicing up at the thought of it.”

 

“Oh, you’re so crude sometimes Jason,” said Jocelyn.

 

“And you, Mrs high and mighty, need a little chastisement I think.”

 

“What? Why? What have I done?”

 

“Scheming and plotting deviously about Kay without telling her.”

 

“Oh come off it. I was just trying to fix things for everyone.”

 

“And since Kay is the wronged party here, I think she should get to administer punishment before she becomes your slave tomorrow. What do think Kay?”

 

“Ooh. What do you have in mind?”

 

“Hey. Hey. This is not fair,” complained Jocelyn light heartedly.

 

“Anything you want,” said Jason, grinning at Kay.

 

Kay thought about it for a while, ignoring Jocelyn’s protests.

 

“I think a spanking,” she finally announced.

 

Jocelyn stopped protesting and fell silent. Jason laughed.

 

“Yes, definitely a spanking. Tomorrow, I will be on your side of hotel reception, and will be your slave, but tonight, you’re on my side, and I am a lady and you are the slave.”

 

Kay got up from her seat at the table and walked over to one of the loungers, which she sat down on, keeping herself very upright and her knees together. She looked at Jocelyn and patted her lap. She was going to make this spanking everything that Steve’s had not been two nights earlier. It was going to be sensual and arousing, and she was going to make Jocelyn enjoy it and hopefully even cum at some point. Slowly Jocelyn pushed her chair back and stood up. Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on Kay’s, she walked across to her. Kay listened to the sound of Jocelyn’s heels on the wooden deck and the lazy fffup fffup of her skirt as she deliberately pulled it tight around her ankles with each slow step. She reached Kay and stood beside the lounger, then carefully lowered herself down into a crouch. She rocked forward and dropped onto her knees with an ease that left Kay in no doubt that Jocelyn was well-practised in the art of kneeling down in a hobbleskirt. At last Jocelyn broke her gaze away from Kay’s eyes and lowered her herself until she was draped across Kay’s lap. Kay waited until Jocelyn had wriggled herself into the correct position before she gave her victim the bad news.

 

“I’m sorry Joss, did I not mention that I’m left handed. You’ll have to turn around.”

 

There was a momentary snort of indignation from Jocelyn before she recovered her calm dignity. With some effort she lifted herself up from Kay’s lap and rocked back until she was perched on her heels again. She walked round to Kay’s other side and slowly lowered her self again. Kay looked across at Jason and her slight gesture requested his permission to continue. Jason bit his lip and waved her on.

 

With Jocelyn now correctly installed across her lap, Kay looked down at the beautifully shaped bottom staring up at her, framed perfectly in the open back of the skirt. And there in the centre of that beautiful bottom was the red flange of its plug. Kay stared down at it, reminding herself how her own bottom would be similarly adorned the following day. She resisted the temptation to fiddle with it straight away, for that would have been too obvious and predictable. Instead she began to gently massage the two globes in her lap, kneading them and feeling their warmth.

 

“Why are you here?” Kay asked quietly.

 

“This slave is here to be punished,” came the emotionless reply.

 

Kay liked that. Wasn’t it sexy the way Jocelyn referred to herself in the third person, almost like she was just an object?

 

“And how is the slave to be punished?” Kay asked.

 

“This slave is to receive a spanking.”

 

Kay stopped her massaging and leaned forward to kiss the bottom she was about to punish. She planted kisses all over each cheek while gently exploring between Jocelyn’s legs with her fingers. She could smell Jocelyn’s arousal and feel the wetness on her fingertips. Kay thought about all the things that had made her own spanking at Steve’s hands so un-erotic. One by one she checked she was not making the same mistakes. She began to pull and push very gently on the flange of the plug and twist it round slightly.

 

“Your spanking will begin when you ask for it,” she said, continuing to wiggle the plug with one hand and massage Jocelyn’s labia with the other.

 

It was some time before Jocelyn spoke. “This slave is ready for her spanking to begin please,” she said quietly in a voice that betrayed how aroused she was.

 

Kay lifted her hand high and brought it down hard, making sure that she just caught the plug slightly with her little finger, and producing a loud slap and a gasp form Jocelyn. Kay waited, her hand still where it had landed.

 

“Thank you,” whispered Jocelyn. “Another please.”

 

Kay repeated, this time landing on the other cheek, but again making sure she nudged the plug.

 

“Thank you. Another please.”

 

Kay obliged. Again and again, but each time waiting for thanks and the request for more. As Jocelyn’s bottom began to pink up a little, Kay decided to it was time to keep her victim guessing. She stopped the spanking and instead began to play with Jocelyn’s plug. She pulled it gently, watching the sphincter stretch as the bulk of the plug began to squeeze out, but then letting go so that it pulled itself back inside. It seemed a delightful little interlude and extracted the most satisfying little moans from Jocelyn until it came time for the main event. Without warning Kay abandoned the plug and resumed spanking. This time she didn’t wait for thanks or a request for more. She spanked away hard and fast, feeling the heat building both in Jocelyn’s bottom and in her own loins. As her left arm began to tire, she swapped to her right, reaching over Jocelyn’s bottom to get the right angle. Her now redundant left hand worked its way between Jocelyn’s legs and her fingers went to work.

 

There was no missing the point when Kay achieved her objective. Jocelyn’s writhing and wriggling which had been growing in amplitude, suddenly stopped, to be replaced with a gentle quivering, and the air was pierced by her screams of joy, the volume of which left Kay reflecting on the intensity of her own recent gagged orgasms. There really was a lot of energy that could be trapped and held by a gag. As she felt Jocelyn’s orgasm begin to fade, she stopped her spanking and began to kiss the warm, red cheeks better.

 

“I reckon that’s how a spanking should be done,” Kay thought as she kissed away. “And hopefully I’ll be the one screaming tomorrow, although I’m not sure how she’ll manage it in a straitjacket, and anyway, a gag will hopefully be keeping me quiet.”

 

“Fuckin’ hell Kay,” said Jason, leaning on the railing and watching. “You sure know how to deliver a spanking. I thought I was watching the greatest porno ever made, and I’m maybe thinking that err, someone other than Stave taught you that?”

 

“And you’d be wrong,” replied Kay. “Everything I know about spanking I got from Steve. I like to learn from the mistakes of others.”

 

“Err, okay. I think I understand that.”

 

“Ooooooh Kaayyy,” said Jocelyn, slowly recovering her senses. “I can’t wait for us to be chained together tomorrow and have you as my slave. We’re going to have so much fun. I’ve never had a sex slave before.”

 

“Well I’ve never been a sex slave before. Unless you count the last couple of days.”

 

“Mmmm. I’ll go easy on you for the first few minutes then.” Jocelyn extracted herself from Kay’s lap, pausing on the way up to kiss Kay on the lips. “How do they look?” she asked Kay, turning round to present her bottom for Kay’s inspection.

 

“A lovely rosy red,” replied Kay.

 

“Erm Jason, can you get me a cushion please so I can sit next to my mistress. And my glass is looking a bit empty.”

 

“I think Kay’s mini-bar is pretty empty too. We seem to have done it some serious damage. Shall I order some replacements?” said Jason as he moved a cushion onto Kay’s lounger for his wife to sit on.

 

“How about some cocktails?” suggested Kay.

 

“Oh yes, cocktails all round,” agreed Jocelyn.

 

Kay got up and went inside to phone for room service. As she sat on the bed beside the phone ordering up six cocktails, she looked down at her tee shirt, skirt and bare feet, and it occurred to her that she wasn’t dressed for dinner and cocktails at all, it being a rather impromptu dinner party. She fished around in her bag for something more appropriate and was intrigued to find that Steve had actually packed her straitjacket, hood and hobbleskirt. What did that mean? Was he just on packing autopilot while she was arguing with him that morning, or was he hoping to use them when they got home? Given the way he had left, Kay decided it was the former, but it did leave a little room for question. Obviously she couldn’t get into the straitjacket right then and on her own, and she couldn’t be a very good host in a hood, but the hobbleskirt had possibilities. She wasn’t a slave that night, more of a mistress really, and she felt the skirt could make her look quite dominant if she worked it right. But what to wear with it?

 

By the time she had changed, the cocktails had been delivered and Kay half strode and half minced back out to her guests with the heels of her strappy evening sandals copping on the wooden deck and her skirt making its characteristic fffup fffup noise as it pulled tight with every step she took. As she set her tray of cocktails down on the table, the look on her guests’ faces told her she had judged the rest of her outfit perfectly for the occasion. The perfect companion for her hobbleskirt and heels was of course, nothing at all.

 

 

It was well past midnight before the little party broke up and Kay’s visitors headed off back to their room. After they had gone, Kay sat out on her deck for a while longer, enjoying her first and last night of freedom, and feeling like a child on Christmas Eve. Who could predict what adventures awaited in the next few days? Their mock contract said she had to sleep on her decision to become a slave again, and she appreciated the consideration the others were giving her to not rush into anything she might regret, but she knew without a doubt that she wasn’t going to change her mind. Two more days in that straitjacket, two more evenings in the hood and skirt, two more days with her mouth stuffed full, and now her bottom as well. And two days of being chained to the woman who had apparently turned her half lesbian. Plus whatever sundry sexual torments were lurking in store for her. How exciting was it going to feel when she heard that lock close on her straitjacket in the morning? It was as if she had spent her life shut outside of a party, peering in at her would-be world through dirty inter-net curtains, and catching glimpses of other revellers having a good time, but lacking the courage to join them. Now she had found that courage and had gone inside, and she liked what she had found there. Kay had the distinct feeling that tomorrow was going to be the beginning of the rest of her life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

It is strange how tiny events can sometimes change the course of our lives completely. I often wonder about how things would have turned out if the marble tiles at the bottom of those two steps hadn’t got in the way. My little tumble, nasty as it was at the time, seems such a minor thing, but like a stone cast into a calm pond, the ripples of consequence have spread into every corner of my life. I went to Susac with two goals, to explore the unfulfilled and kinky nature of my sexuality, and in doing so hopefully rescue my marriage from death by boredom. I certainly succeeded in the first of those goals, and with some considerable style too, and I came so close to achieving the second as well. And now, nearly nine months later, hardly a day goes by when I don’t think about that remote Adriatic island and the incredible experiences I had there.

 

I used to think that my kinky, submissive streak was something bad that afflicted me, almost like some sort of mental illness. It had to be suppressed and hidden, as a secret drug addict or alcoholic might hide their cravings. Now though, I realise that I am incredibly lucky to be blessed with such desires and to be able to enjoy the experiences they can bring. I feel slightly sorry for all those ‘normal’ women who will never get to experience the sheer joy of standing in the sea, helplessly bound and gagged, while a plastic buoy tied round their crotch repeatedly forces them to orgasm, or the excitement of being guided onto their lover’s cock while blinded by a hood and trussed up in a straitjacket and hobbleskirt.

 

But the women I really feel for are those who are like I used to be. Those sensual and sexy women out there, with a kinky streak as wide as The Atlantic, but who are afraid or ashamed to share it with their loved ones for fear of judgement or ridicule, or of being branded a traitor to their sex by a society that demands they be the equal of any man. Perhaps once the crusading feminists have achieved their goal of a world where no differences between women and men can be tolerated, and everyone has realised just how bland and unsexy life has become, then maybe that will be the time for all us slaves and submissives to rise up and take over the world. If that’s alright with our masters of course.

 

I had hoped that Susac would bring me and Steve together and provide the spark to re-ignite our fires for each other, but it actually had the opposite effect. My fall poured cold water over the flames just as they were beginning to take hold and made Steve determined not to play with matches again. When I came back to London, it was my firm intention to dump him and get divorced as quickly as possible. It wasn’t so much that he had run away from the island that angered me, I had after all rather tricked him into going there in the first place, it was that he had abandoned me when I was injured and in need of his support that I found unforgivable. But when I got home and we talked about it, he told me about his former girlfriend who had nearly died in a bondage accident. After that I felt I understood his strange and contradictory behaviour. For a while I actually felt guilty about trying to force my desires on him, but if he had told me all this earlier, things might have been rather different. As it was, I did try to make it work with him again, but I could feel us slipping back into the sexless status quo that had existed before, and my heart wasn’t really in it. We just seemed terminally incompatible in the bedroom.

 

And so here I am in the Costa coffee shop along the road from my dental practice, waiting for Steve to show up so he can sign some papers from the solicitor. I don’t like meeting him in places like this, but I can’t see him in private any more. I can’t stand it when he starts crying and begging me to go back to him. At least in a public place he keeps himself under control a bit. I suppose he thinks it shows how much he still loves me and how badly he wants me back, but actually it just shows how little he understands me. Does he really think that the way to win back the affections of a submissive woman who dreams of being dominated and enslaved, is to go down on his knees and beg to her? He’d have a lot better chance if he were to lie in wait for me outside my surgery, in an unmarked van, with a bottle of fantasy chloroform and several pairs of handcuffs.

 

Maybe Steve would finally give up on me and move on if I told him that I have a new love in my life now. And with that love comes a master who knows how a slave wants to be treated, where the thin line lies between pain and ecstasy, between torment and joy, and even between helpless immobility and plain old boredom. I don’t think the woman that Steve loves was ever truly the real me.

 

I wish he’d hurry up and get here so we can get this over with, because this is Friday evening and I’m anxious to get my weekend started. Most Friday’s I wouldn’t be so bothered about, but this is the start of the final weekend of the month, a very special time for me now because my new master has decreed that for the whole of the final weekend of each month, I am allowed out of my chastity belt. I’ve been wearing it for three and a half months now and I would have to admit it’s not been an easy thing to bear. It’s not so much that it’s generally not very comfortable, or that it takes an age to dry under it after I take a shower, or that the waistband nips my tummy whenever I bend down, or that it’s hard to keep my arse clean when I have to push my you-know-whats through the hole in the crotch band. It’s not even the nightmare of having a period in it that makes it hard. It’s that it makes me feel horny all the time, and without the addition of a fetish resort, straitjacket and someone to put clamps on them, playing with my nipples on its own just isn’t enough to get any release. But I am starting to get used to it, and I enjoy the feeling that only my master can release me. It makes me feel truly controlled while I get on with everyday life, and I love that. And it does give me a little thrill sometimes when I’m peering into a patient’s mouth, to wonder what they would think if they knew what the woman who is drilling out their root canal is wearing under her surgical scrubs. My master says he’s considering upgrading it by adding thigh bands with a tiny length of chain between them. I think he’s only kidding, but the thought terrifies and excites me in equal amounts.

 

I take another swig of my cappuccino and my phone bleeps that it has a new email. I open it and read what it says, and I can’t help smiling at its contents.

 

 

Hi Kay,

 

Great news! I got an email back from Mr Yens. He says he does have availability on the week we want and that we can have a discount being as you and me will be chained together again and therefore only count as one person. He just wants a little supplement to cover the extra food and toys. He also says we won’t have to pay for the straitjackets and hoods again as long as the ones we have are still in good condition, but we will have to stump up for new hobbleskirts because this year they’ve made them tighter. Can you imagine that, even tighter than they were? How are we going to walk at all?

 

He also says you might like to know that your steps have been taken away and there’s a ramp there now with a soft flower bed on either side.

 

So it looks like we’re all go for it. We can send the deposits off tonight when you come round. There is just one possible problem. Jason’s in a funny mood and keeps saying that he’s lost the keys to your belt. I think he’s winding me up, but it’s hard to be sure. You might want to have some bolt cutters in your car just in case, because even if you’re not bothered, I don’t want to go without tonight.      

 

Love and kisses, and get here soon.

 

Joss. xxxxx