Changing Spaces Holiday Marathon
Highly readable account of a pixie-ish home decorating diva who, along with a
woman carpenter friend, works to satisfy her master, the narrator. M/f+, BDSM,
spoof, lingerie, toys, consensual, reluctant.
***************
Chapter II - Changing Spaces
Thursday
Over breakfast Thursday morning I learned more about Mindy's remodeling friend,
Amy Lynn. Certainly I had met her, but Mindy clued me in on how Amy Lynn had
been raised by strict military parents. She had not even dated until she was 18.
Maturing while not allowed any male company, she had experimented with female
company. She had found it to her liking. Though she told Mindy she felt
bi-sexual, her preference was probably women. Amy Lynn had enjoyed a good
relationship with Gennifer, an attractive, earthy, vivacious blonde; and in fact
Amy Lynn, Gen and Mindy had all attended a kick-box exercise clinic for a few
weeks.
But it seemed something in the relationship had sent Gen away, and Amy Lynn
didn't know what to do. Her main construction season over, she was happy to
assist Mindy in our basement remodeling. Over time Mindy let her in on our
penchant for bondage and domination. One night last week after an especially
grueling day (and beers on an empty stomach), Amy Lynn revealed her particular
fetish: denigration. Amy Lynn enjoyed being humiliated. That personality quirk
had spooked Gennifer, who had left her friend and lover. With a second cup of
coffee, Mindy and I conspired.
Mindy's mom throws a great open-house style Thanksgiving dinner, inviting many
friends and family. As soon as Amy Lynn arrived, Mindy bundled her out of the
living room with school-girl whispers. They were gone a long time. About an hour
later, Mindy materialized on my arm with her disarming grin. "We're all set,"
she said. I nodded, excited about what Friday would bring.
***************************
At exactly one o'clock Friday afternoon, our doorbell rang, and Mindy walked to
answer the door. I was not present upstairs, awaiting our guest downstairs.
Amy Lynn must have been puzzled as the door opened inward with seemingly no one
there. Mindy's voice said, "Come in," and Amy Lynn stepped in as the door shut.
Mindy had her back to the door, and locked the deadbolt with hands behind her
back. She turned to show her friend how her arms were tied behind her with loop
after loop of rope.
"Wow," Amy Lynn said as she unbuttoned and removed her coat. While she wore a
dark red long sleeve blouse, jeans, and heeled boots, Mindy's outfit was much
more dramatic. She wore a black mini-dress with a sheer virtually see-through
nylon bodice, an uplifting black bra underneath. The top was sleeveless, but
Mindy had elbow-length black gloves. The white rope contrasted marvelously. The
hem of the dress brushed the tops of her thighs, and about 2 inches south of
that began the tops of thigh-high nylon stockings. Mindy also wore her classic
patent-black 5-inch pumps.
[PHOTO]
"You look great, too. Now, you're ready for this, right? No backing out now,"
Mindy told her friend.
"I'm ready."
With her hands tethered as they were behind her, Mindy backed up to a side
table, crouched slightly and pulled out a drawer. Her grasping fingers found
what she was seeking, and she strode to Amy Lynn, turned her back, and lifted
hands behind her. "Here."
Amy Lynn took the heavy black leather collar, already attached to a 9-foot
leather leash. Under Mindy's bemused gaze, she faced the hall mirror and brought
the collar up around her throat, hesitated just a moment, then fastened the
three buckles, pulling the tabs as tight as she could. The leash dangled down
between her jutting breasts.
Mindy again backed down to the drawer and came up with shiny chrome handcuffs.
She tuned to her friend and backed toward her. "Now take these, clip one over
one wrist, and then fasten your hands behind you."
"I thought we'd be doing this downstairs."
"We are. But I have to take you down, to present you to Master."
"Master? You're kidding, I don't have to -"
"If you want out, now's the time. But we have ground rules, and if you want to
play..." Mindy left the rest unsaid.
Amy Lynn sighed, looked at her image in the mirror, and then in 2 loud "clicks",
cuffed her hands behind her back.
Mindy backed to her friend, snagged up the loop end of the leash, and led Amy
Lynn through the house, towards the basement stairs.
******************
I heard two sets of heels clomping their way down the stairs and stood ready in
the middle of the room. Slave Mindy led her charge directly to me. She turned
and bent forward at the waist, holding the leash loop for me to take. I let her
hold that position a while. Amy Lynn and I met eyes, her head held high by the
stiff collar, her breasts pressing provocatively against her red blouse.
"Hi Amy Lynn, you look great," I said, allowing a slight smile to escape my
otherwise stony exterior. I leaned in and kissed her cheek. "We wanted to thank
you for your hard work in converting this basement. It's beautiful."
"We were both pleased at how it turned out, and hoped you would be pleased too,"
Amy Lynn responded.
I said nothing.
Mindy still bent, holding the leash.
Amy Lynn began to look nervous.
"Is that it?" I asked.
"What?" Amy Lynn, confused.
"Mindy," I took the leash from her hand.
Slave Mindy told her friend, "You must say Master, or Sir. Try it again."
Amy Lynn flushed, then looked me straight in the eye and uttered three words in
precise cadence. "Yes. Sir. Master."
I led my prize to the heavy coffee table and commanded her to sit, and had Mindy
perch beside her. Then I led up the wheeled tripod with our digital camera. Amy
Lynn turned red with embarrassment. She started to bluster, but stopped. I took
a few snapshots, then directed them to turn slightly, more back-to-back so I
could see their bound hands. They complied. More pictures. Lastly, I placed the
length of Amy Lynn's leather leash across Mindy's lips. She bit the leather,
holding it, and I have this great shot of Mindy sitting straight-backed, Amy
Lynn having to lean slightly into Mindy due to the short length of her slave
leash.
[PHOTO]
I wheeled the tripod out of the way, and moved the full length mirror behind me,
so that Amy Lynn could watch herself transform. As I bent to undo her boots, I
commanded Slave Mindy to get the items I had left atop the washing machine in
the other room.
I pulled off Amy Lynn's heeled boots, then helped her to her feet. I undid the
trouser snap and pushed the jeans off, pulling them down her legs, and helping
her step out of them. To my delight, I found she was wearing black leather
French-cut panties. I placed the boots back on her feet, and fastened leather
cuffs to each ankle. 12 inches/30 cm of chain held them loosely together.
I was unbuttoning her brilliant red blouse and getting a peek at the matching
black leather bra when my slave finally returned, gripping items behind her
back. Slave Mindy looked red-faced and somewhat out of breath. She dropped the
two items on the table and stood by for instructions.
I finished with the blouse, pushing it back over her shoulders. Amy Lynn sat at
attention in our black leather collar with leash, her own black leather panty
and bra set, her boots cuffed together, and wrists fastened with steel.
"What took you so damn long?" I asked Mindy.
"I'm, I'm sorry, sir, you put the items so far back on the washer that I
couldn't reach them very easily."
"It was a mindlessly simple task. Can't you do anything right, you twit?" Out of
the corner of my eye, I saw Amy Lynn's eyes positively shining, riveted on the
scene, and flush with red at my words to Slave Mindy.
"Well if you can't help me, I must get you out of our way. Go stand in the
corner, you ninny."
Mindy lowered her head and walked slowly to the corner of the room. She stood
facing the wall.
"Bitch, I said get in that corner!" I exploded, and Amy Lynn's head turned to
see just how angry I was.
Mindy shuffled forward until the toes of her high heeled pumps touched the
walls. Then she leaned into the corner, nose at the joint, her heavy breasts
spreading slightly as they pressed each wall. Although all we could see her
crossed wrists and the back of her stylish short hair-cut, we heard just the
faintest, slightest... sob.
[PHOTO]
From the look on her face, Amy Lynn couldn't believe what she was seeing.
I snugged a belt around her waist, then uncuffed one wrist, locking the empty
cuff on the belt. I pulled that red sleeve from her arm, then threaded a wide
leather cuff around the wrist. I held up the pink t-shirt that my slave had
fetched. "You're wearing this," I announced, and pulled her one arm through the
armhole, and her head through the neck hole. I repeated the procedure with the
other arm, and with a short two-headed clip, secured her leather bound wrists
behind her.
Mindy had modified an older V-neck T-short of her own, grown thin with washings.
She had cut inches off the bottom to make a midriff shirt, and had scissored the
neckline lower. As Amy Lynn was just slightly larger than Mindy, she all but
swelled in the tight garment, the outline of her leather bra very apparent.
I tugged on the leash for her to arise, then led her to the armchair which we
had moved to the center of the room. Slowly, I had her kneel in the seat of it,
facing over the chair's back.
"Slave Mindy, do you think you are up to a simple task now?"
Her quiet but determined voice came back, "Yes Master."
"Bring me that bag now."
She practically ran to the table, snatched the bag, and bought it to me. I had
her hold the slave's leash in her bound hands, and the shorter angle forced Amy
Lynn to lean further forward.
I opened the lingerie bag and placed the three treasures on the back of the
seat. I already had the wide strip of medical adhesive tape standing by.
"Master, may I speak?" Mindy said. I nodded. "I think you should make her say
it," she said.
Amy Lynn's eyes widened, confused.
"All right," I said. I held up two of the loose garments. "Do you know what
these are?"
Amy Lynn nodded but stayed silent. Mindy tugged at the leash.
"What are these?" I repeated.
"Panties, sir," She glared at Mindy, who was smiling devilishly now.
"Can you guess whose?"
"Hers, I suppose, Sir."
"See how they are wrinkly? Would you guess that they are fresh?" She knelt
still, her lips sealed shut. I balled one of my wife's underpants in one hand,
and held the back of my new slave's neck. "Open." I commanded.
She slowly parted her lips then opened her mouth, and I shoved the soiled
underwear into her mouth. She gagged slightly, then gathered herself. My fingers
pressed a second pair past her lips and teeth. Then the third I held up, brushed
across her face, held against her nose for a few seconds to guarantee she caught
the aroma, then packed that in her mouth as well. Two wipe strips of adhesive
tape were pressed across her lips and fully packed mouth.
"Now what do you make of that, pet? You prefer a woman's clit to a man's dick?
Enjoy."
I crossed behind her and took the heavy dartboard from the wall. It had been
mounted on a wide and secure cleat; and revealed three thick, sturdy metal
rings. I helped Amy Lynn from the kneeling position and moved her to the wall. I
unclipped the leash from her collar, and with another double-head clip, attached
her leather collar to the center ring. While she was in no danger, she did look
bizarre, as if lynched with her hands behind her back, her mouth gagged.
[PHOTO].
We reoriented the mirror so that Amy Lynn could see herself. I took a wide black
marker from my pocket. "What do you think, Slave Mindy?"
Standing by the recliner, Mindy looked thoughtful, then said, "slut."
With the marker, I wrote in large letters across the new slave's chest
"S-L-U-T". I stepped back to admire my work. "Mindy, can you manage to get the
spreader bar?"
She went to the closet, opened it with her bound hands, and quickly seized the
meter-long rod and brought it to me. I unchained one ankle, then attached the
end of the bar. Amy Lynn was forced to spread her legs as I fastened them wide
apart. While kneeling in front of her, I caught the scent of her aroma. She was
incredibly turned on. I uncuffed her wrists and pulled them to each of the rings
on the mounting cleat. She stood spread-eagle, glaring at us, her face flushed.
And the only thing to do was to uncap a red marker and write across her white
tape gag:
"C-U-N-T"
[PHOTO]
With the open armed recliner next to the full length mirror, Amy Lynn got an
eyeful: her choice of either her bound self in her "slut" t-shirt and leather
panties, or us as I secured Mindy in the recliner, length after length of rope
holding each forearm and wrist to an armrest. Ropes drew her ankles back to the
back legs of the chair. Amy Lynn soon saw that my wife wore no panties. Three of
the seatbelt-style straps held her torso to the chair back.
I fetched the pecker gag from the drawer and detoured past to visit Amy Lynn. I
held the fake member up to her face, caressing her cheek with it. "How about it
now, Slave? Would some cock feel good down there? Instead of sucking my slave's
used underpants?" Amy Lynn flushed scarlet.
I kissed Mindy passionately, earned a grin from her, then slid the cock between
her lips, buckling the strap behind her. I fondled her breasts, trapped as they
were between the belts above and below.
For Amy Lynn, I passed rope around her waist and up between her outstretched
legs and fashioned a nice tight crotch rope. I ran the far end of it up to her
collar ring. With some innovative wiggling on her part, she just might find some
release from her frustration.
I snapped on the TV/VCR combo and started a favorite tape of mine, featuring
women in various stages of both being bound, and struggling in their bonds.
There were an unusual number of highlights: surprised sorority roommates, cuffed
cousins, and other beauties tied together. Food for thought for our guest, and a
frustrating turn-on for my wife, I thought, as I headed upstairs to let them
stew.
* * * * *
About 30 minutes later, I started downstairs again. Gagged moans of protest had
drifted up the stairs from the TV. As I stepped downstairs, I caught the scent
of dripping pussy.
Mindy was flushed red from the throat up, and groaned at me, trying to
communicate around the thick rubber cock in her mouth and throat. In response, I
massaged her tits through her sheer nylon top and black bra. I ran hands all
over her body, as she closed her eyes to my touch. Her thighs were slick with
juice, and I got my fingers good and wet before visiting Amy Lynn.
She too was wild with frustration. I smeared my wife's pussy juices over Amy
Lynn's tits and the tape gag, so she could enjoy the full aroma. On the TV, a
brunette and redhead were hogtied side-by-side, straining at their ropes. It had
a maddening effect on Amy Lynn.
With a marker, I wrote on her bare thigh, starting high on her thigh and writing
sideways down to her knee: "D-R-I-P-P-I-N-G". On her T-shirt at the belly, I
wrote:
"P-U-S-S-Y L-I-C-K-E-R". If this bitch wanted humiliation, I was going to
accommodate her.
[PHOTO]
My wife's protests drew my attention and I unbuckled her pecker gag and withdrew
it, a long string of saliva accompanying it. "Master, may I please have some
water?" I held the cup for her to refresh herself.
"Master, how may I pleasure you? I want to pleasure you sir. I can't take much
more of this." She flexed gloved fingers, trying to move her arms under the
coils and coils of white rope. I agreed it was about time for her to relieve me,
as my cock was straining to the bursting.
I undid the strapping and ropes, pausing only to snap the chrome handcuffs on,
capturing her wrists in front of her. I helped my unsteady slave to her feet.
"Now slave, I don't want to forget our guest. You haven't forgotten her, now
have you?" I asked. Mindy's broad mouth smiled. In response to my question,
Amy Lynn had not managed to achieve orgasm.
I directed Mindy to take the pecker gag over to her friend, and thread one strap
through the leather panty waistband. The rubber cock hung off Amy Lynn's waist,
dangling just inches from her pussy mound. Amy Lynn looked almost delirious with
frustration as the bulbous head swayed so close to her vagina.
On screen, the brunette and redhead had been retied face to face, each with
wrists tied in front of them, around the torso of her partner. They wore a
double ball gag, which made it seem as if they were kissing. I took the
inspiration.
"Now I want you to get in close to this slave, rubbing your breasts against
hers. And with your hands in front of you as they are, I'm sure Amy Lynn would
appreciate a tug on that crotch rope."
Mindy complied, pressing herself against our new slave, running her hands over
the leather panty, working the crotch rope deep into Amy Lynn's slit. Mindy
kissed her friend's face, panted in her ear and whispered foul things to her. I
lifted her skirt for a better view of my wife's ass. Here's the two of them
together:
[PHOTO]
Mindy backed away and I gave her the marker pen. She knelt and with cuffed hands
wrote on the T-shirt: "H-O-R-N-Y B-I-T-C-H."
I lifted the T-shirt over Amy Lynn's breasts and unhooked the leather bra. I
massaged her breasts roughly. From her gasps, Amy Lynn welcomed the attention. I
arranged the bra cups out of the way, pulled the shirt back down. Mindy had
fetched the scissors. I pulled the material away from our slave's erect nipple
and with a careful snip, cut the thin cotton material. It sprang back into
place, Amy Lynn's tits and areola poking through the material. "For all the
world to see," I said, as she blushed even darker. A second or two later and
both tits were on display. Amy Lynn watched her own form in the mirror.
Mindy had been rubbing her own clit furiously through the short dress and I
acknowledged she needed relief. "Get me a wide scarf, slave." Mindy flew to the
toy drawer and brought back the requested article. I held it up to Amy Lynn, and
despite her protesting moans, covered her eyes and head with several windings,
then tied off the blindfold.
I bent Mindy over the arm of the chair in which she had been tied, where she
could smell her own juice in its seat. As she leaned forward on her elbows,
wrists cuffed in front of her, I easily entered her from behind. I pumped her at
a slow, luxurious pace. I could see the tied beauties on the TV, then look over
at my newfound bound slave on the wall. And watch my sex slave throw her head
from side to side, panting and talking filth. Amy Lynn could hear the two of us
fucking, could hear the gagged moans and protests from the TV. She writhed in
her bondage, desperate for relief.
And then Mindy came. She was very vocal about it, groaning, pleading, gasping.
And that sensation, coupled with the visual spectacle before me, caused my cock
to pulse and shoot wads of cum into my slave's hot snatch.
Slave Mindy and I collapsed on the futon sofa and I uncuffed her wrists. We
cuddled in post-coital bliss while Amy Lynn stood before us, all but stamping
her feet in frustration. Mindy and I whispered privately and intimately, too
softly for Amy Lynn to hear.
Then Mindy went clumping up the stairs in her heels. I recoiled rope and put
away the belts. When I heard the shower start upstairs, I took a leather belt
from the drawer. Without warning I slashed at Amy Lynn's thighs, breasts, and
stomach. She wailed in surprise and pain at the unexpected assault. I unhooked
her collar from the ring, then loosened the leather collar and removed it. I
unhooked her ankles from the spreader bar and drew them together, re-hooking the
short chain. I restarted the cassette in the VCR and set the volume just loud
enough for Amy Lynn to hear. Then I too, left her, chained to the wall in our
dark basement.
******************
A while later we both went back downstairs. Slave Amy Lynn had slumped in her
bonds, her dark hair cascading over her face. She wearily raised her head as we
approached, and we both saw at once that she had been crying. Clear mucus ran
across her "cunt" tape gag, and mascara streaks had run from under the silken
blindfold and dried on her cheeks.
For a moment I thought, damn, I had gone too far. I looked at my wife. She
grinned manically and held up a palm. High Five!
Mindy took the marker pen and wrote something new on the T-shirt, across our
slave's ribcage.
We unhooked each cuff and slowly lowered Amy Lynn's exhausted arms. Each taking
a side, we dragged her from the wall, and laid her on the carpet, her ankles
still chained together. Mindy situated the girl's head in her lap, and wiped her
still-covered face with a damp washcloth as I vigorously rubbed life into our
slave's arms.
"You've served well, Slave Amy. For a treat, I brought down your new mistress,
Mistress Mindy."
"Shush, just rest for a moment, baby. Catch your breath. Unless you want to
stop?" her mistress asked. A few moments ticked by. Amy Lynn tugged a hand loose
from my rubbing and touched the spot on her shirt where Mindy had last written.
"Do you want to know what that says?" Mistress asked.
A nod.
I responded. "It says FUCK TOY."
Amy Lynn gave a girlish giggle behind her heavy gag, then reached up and
awkwardly stroked my wife's face. Clearly, she wasn't ready to give in.
I said, "I know. Let's take this one to the club. Like that last girl." Amy Lynn
stiffened as we talked.
"Oh, that curly redhead. What was her name? Laura, maybe," Mindy responded. She
wiped her charge's throat with the cloth. "That was a heavy scene, too much for
this baby girl. It's only her first night."
"O.K., but maybe she'd enjoy the story." I explained how the girl Laura had been
used in much the same manor as Amy Lynn. We had first violated her at home, then
clad her in an indecent shirt with foul promises written on it. She was chained,
thrown a long coat over her, and taken to an s/m club. We had chained her by the
collar to a pole, and throughout the night men and women both had fondled her,
licked her, even probed her with sweaty digits. As I shared the gruesome
details, Amy Lynn's nipples hardened anew.
"No, I have plans for this little twat," Mistress Mindy said. "There's a dark
desolate road that I want to set her on, and make her walk a mile to us, hands
behind her, tits freezing through that shirt." Amy Lynn squealed in alarm at the
prospect. "Get the blue tape."
I retrieved some spongy sport tape from the play drawer as Mindy worked loose
the blindfold knot. "Now, keep your eyes shut so I can clean some of that goo
away." Mindy wiped at the girl's mascara stained features. "Now." I started
wrapping the sports tape around her head, but Mindy took over the chore herself.
"You do it too tight."
"What's too tight for you might be just right for this slave," I told her. I
smoothed out the dirty scarf, and with the blindfold job done, we flipped Amy
Lynn onto her stomach, drawing arms behind her, and I wrapped her wrists in the
stained scarf, knotting it several times. Mindy meanwhile replaced the ankle
cuffs with wind after wind of rope. Then she roped the girl's knees together,
passing ropes around, between, and seemingly every which way. Houdini couldn't
have gotten loose.
[PHOTO]
We worked together to stand her, and by her posture, Amy Lynn was puzzled as
ever. With a quick motion, I squatted and pulled her over my shoulder. She
squealed, more helpless than ever, ass in the air, bound arms flailing behind
her. Mindy gave her a swift slap on the ass and ordered her to be quiet. Then
another slap for good measure.
We slowly went up the stairs. I passed through the kitchen, through the
connecting door to the garage, and laid my burden in the back of our SUV. Mindy
was right there with more ropes, and we tied our prisoner in a loose ball tie,
securing the rope through anchors in the car floor. Amy Lynn protested as best
she could, wailing behind the sodden gag, but really - who was in charge here?
We arranged a blanket over her, and slammed the car door shut. Mindy had
collected the girl's coat and handbag, and gave me a kiss before opening the
garage door and darting out. I started the SUV, pulled out of the garage, pushed
the automatic button to close the door, and started out.
It was a short enough drive, and Amy Lynn was surprisingly quiet. Although I'm
certain her pulse was pounding in her chest and ears. Presently, I brought the
SUV to a stop, waited a few moments with the radio blaring loudly, then shut off
the car and got out.
Together we opened the SUV door, pulled the blanket from our parcel and began
undoing the few fastenings that held her in the car. This time I lifted her in
my arms, and like a bridegroom, carried her over the threshold, down a hallway,
and deposited her onto a bed.
Invisible to our slave, Mindy had driven Amy Lynn's car to her home, used the
garage opener to let me pull in with the SUV, then shut us all in. As much as we
could, we gave Amy Lynn no clue as to where she was.
We removed enough rope to get at those sodden leather panties. I shucked them
off. Mindy meanwhile rifled through drawers and came back with new pink panties
and the girl's personal vibrator. She shook the batteries out of it onto the
floor. "No more than we want her to have," she whispered cruelly.
I worked the fake cock up into the girl's sopping pussy, enjoying her high
pitched squeal. Then we pulled panties up to held it in place. The base stuck
out obscenely in the fresh underwear, but it would serve. I rewrapped her legs
together.
Mindy meanwhile had found some pantyhose tights. She pulled them down over the
girl's head, completely masking her features. Then we ran ropes across her back,
shoulders and legs, cinching her up into a severe ball tie. Last, we wrote once
more, this time on her back: PUSSY SLAVE.
We left her in the bedroom, shutting the door firmly. Then we hung the leather
panties off her backporch doorknob, and left the outdoor light on. Mindy had
that morning phoned the ex-girlfriend Gen and explained how Amy Lynn was
desperate for reconciliation. She had promised Amy Lynn would be waiting for her
that night with a great surprise. And then we went home.
*******************
About 5 days later Mindy called me at work to say Amy Lynn and Gen had visited
her at home, delivering an enormous gift basket. "She also brought back all of
our things: the scarf, rope, my, err... intimates. All freshly laundered and
straightened out. Amy Lynn said she had enjoyed the best time. Gen said it was a
great night, unwrapping her present. Amy Lynn said she was frightened beyond
belief when Gen lay hands on her. Oh but there was one thing..."
"What's that?"
"She wanted to keep a souvenir. Gen and Amy Lynn both, they love her in that
shirt."
