This story is loosely based on role-plays conducted with friends on deviantArt.com. Grace is a fictitious character that I created for use in the role-plays. This story was written for my friends, jenny and Ellie, and 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 here on Writings of Leviticus. Please check out their stories. I use Graham's ideas with permission, and will not profit in any way from their use. This story is for entertainment purposes only.
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. 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.
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 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!
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.
Grace was frozen in fear. What had she done?! She felt the link of the chain attached to the collar around her neck with both hands, and tugged on it every way she could thing of. How did it close like that? And why?
One thing was certain; she had to free herself from the girl-rail before Mr. Donelli got home! But how? Returning to the kitchen was impossible now that the catch in the rail had flipped closed. She got down on her hands and knees and looked down into the space around the rail and saw the metal ‘gate’ that had flipped over, blocking the path in that direction.
Sticking her fingers into the slit in the flooring, Grace felt along the rail for something to trip the gate open, but could feel nothing. The hard metal piece blocking the ball’s path was not budging, either. She knew the rail had been designed to control the movements of Mr. Donelli’s slave, and just how effectively it worked was suddenly understood.
Standing, the desperate woman looked across the dining room to the door leading out into the hallway. There was another small narrow closet by the front door that housed a chain just like the one by the back door. Maybe there was a key there, or something, that could get her out of this mess. But that meant venturing even further away from her bra, blouse, and shoes.
Well, it wasn’t like she was naked or anything, but it still felt odd to be walking barefoot on the cool wooden flooring of the mansion, and she didn’t like the idea of straying too far from the safety of her kitchen.
Pulling the chain along with her, Grace followed the girl-rail around the long dining room table and over to the extension of rail that exited the room. As she left the dining room and entered the hallway, she heard the distinctive clang that told her she was not going back into that room.
Looking down the hallway towards the grand foyer, Grace could see the little cabinet set into the wall. It was then that she remembered the long wand that Darios kept in the closet along with the loose end of a chain. He used the stick to unlock the rails! She hadn’t quite figured out how it worked, but she suspected it was magnetic. He would touch the floor along the rail and twist it, and then Jenny could pass through, or not pass through; whichever he wished to happen.
Emboldened by thoughts of escape, Grace moved quickly down the plushly carpeted hallway. Here, the girl-rail ran along the floor against the wall. At each room she passed along the way, she heard the click of a gate as the ball at the end of the chain encountered, and traversed, the intersecting rail that would enter that room. She understood that with each passing room, she was closing any means of returning in the direction she had come.
Any hopes of freedom lay ahead of her, though, and she tried to put the sense that she was being herded out of her mind. Still, her mind turned to the games Darios played with Jenny; following after his naked slave, crop or cane in hand, as she tried to stay out of his reach. One such time, Grace had heard a commotion and had looked out of the kitchen door to see Jenny running out of her Master’s office. She had turned one way only to find the girl-rail locked, forcing her to go in the other direction. The chef had retreated slightly when Darios had exited the room, but peeked out again to see Jenny giggle when she discovered the only open rail led down the north hallway; the hallway that led to the ‘dungeon’.
Grace was coming to that hallway now, and she held her breath as she guided the chain connecting her to the girl-rail and prayed she could continue in the direction she wished to go in. Only when she was safely past the intersecting rail did she exhale. But now, relaxed a little, she stopped to look down the long hallway. There, at the end, was the door to the stairway leading down.
What went on down there between Darios and Jenny, she could only imagine. She understood the lifestyle they lived, and that knowledge fueled the fantasies that had put her in the position she was now in. But to be in His dungeon… it was a thought that, even now, caused her pulse to quicken. What would it be like to be used by the man?
Many times she had seen the markings on Jenny’s flesh, and she had asked her once why she let him abuse her like that. Jenny had looked at her like she didn’t understand the question.
“It pleases Master to use me,” she finally said, reaching for a grape from the bunch that Grace had just rinsed. The pretty redhead popped it in her mouth and smiled. “What do I have that Master would want?” she asked, taking another grape in her delicate fingers. “I would gladly give him anything, and do anything he asked of me.”
“I know, dear, but… it must be so painful,” she replied, seeing that Jenny’s back was still a hot pink from spending the morning with Mr. Donelli.
“Of course!” Jenny giggled, and sucked the grape she held into her mouth with a pop. “There has to be pain to get to the pleasure!” The woman hopped down off the bar stool and grinned. “Thanks for the snack, Miss Grace!”
Grace tore her gaze away from the hallway leading to the dungeon door and pulled the chain with her as she headed towards the front door.
There has to pain to get to the pleasure… How many times had that happily stated phrase wandered through Grace’s head? Was the pain worth it? Somehow, deep inside, she knew it had to be. It had to be a pleasure that she couldn’t even begin to imagine, and now, as always, she felt the warmth of arousal spreading through her body.
Part of her still thought those feelings were wrong, even sinful. Yet there was no denying them. As Grace entered the foyer and heard the click of the rail gate behind her, she wondered if she would ever “suffer for her Master”, as Jenny would say, to experience that wonderful pleasure.
The little cabinet was about nine feet away when she was suddenly jerked back by the chain attached to the collar.
“What?” she said aloud in surprise, and then turned to look at the ball in its track beneath the polished marble flooring. She had reached an intersection of the circular rail she had been following and a branch that cut across the center of the foyer to the opposite side. She bent down and tried to guide the ball in the direction she wanted to go, but the little gate was visible down in the track, and she knew that route was blocked to her.
Looking across the large foyer, she saw the connecting rail on the other side, and then saw the rail where it transitioned to the bottom of the wall as it ran along the majestic stairway to the upper floor of the mansion.
There was a chance that she could go upstairs, down the length of the mansion to the back stairway, and end up at the kitchen again. Also, there was still the possibility that she could access the foyer cabinet from the other direction.
Moving towards the center of the foyer, Grace heard the click of the gate behind her. Those little clicks were beginning to work on her nerves, as each one signified a further reduction of her freedom and she was beginning to feel quite trapped. As she reached the center of the room she heard another click and the chain she was holding stopped dead in its track.
Grace tried to move forward, and then back the way she came. The ball seemed to be stuck! Dropping down to her hands and knees, the frazzled woman peered into the slit at the rail below and saw the ball was between two gates.
She was going nowhere.
Swinging her legs around and under her, Grace sat in the middle of the foyer and considered her fate. What would Mr. Donelli say when he found her like this? More embarrassing… what would she say when Mr. Donelli found her like this? How was she going to explain this to her employer? Was she going to admit that she had fantasized about being in Jenny’s place? Would he lead her to his dungeon, strip her, and use his flogger on her? Or maybe he would just lay her across his lap, lift her skirt, and give her a good spanking.
It was not the time to be fantasizing and getting her panties all wet! She had a serious problem here, and had to figure out what to do, and quickly.
The problem was, however, that there was nothing she could do except for wait. Well, worry and wait. Okay, worry and wait, and think about getting spanked by her millionaire boss. She figured she may as well enjoy her little fantasy while she could, because her employment at the mansion was probably ticking away, second by second.
A noise outside attracted her attention and she scrambled to her feet. As it grew louder she could hear it was a car in the driveway. Mr. Donelli wasn’t supposed to be home yet, but no other visitors were expected either. Leaning as far to the right as she could, Grace managed to see outside.
What see saw lifted her spirits considerably. Parked against the curb just beyond the front steps was Ellie’s car. While still embarrassing to be seen by Mr. Donelli’s friend, it would be less so than having her boss find her as she was.
Ellie didn’t immediately get out of her car, though, causing Grace to wonder what was going on. Did she know that Darios and Jenny weren’t home, and was waiting for them? If so, she would be out there for a few hours. She hoped that wasn’t the case, and that Ellie would come to the door and knock.
After a few minutes, Grace sat down again, her thoughts turning to the woman outside. A very friendly young woman, her role in the mansion was a complex one. Initially unsure of what her role even was, it became apparent that Darios had taken her in as Jenny’s Mistress. This was a bit of a surprise to Grace, because the bond between the Master and his slave was so exclusive. Mr. Donelli kept his slut on a very short leash, and did not share her with anyone, that she knew of.
Ellie’s effect on Jenny was clearly visible, though, and she seemed very happy with the new arrangement from the start. Jenny had told her once that she found it very arousing to be dominated by a younger woman. She didn’t understand it then, but as her fantasies roamed the memories of events she had witnessed, Grace began to understand it and to get somewhat aroused by the thought, too. She had already begun fantasizing about submitting to Darios, so maybe it was just an extension of those fantasies that led her to think about being submissive to the pretty young Mistress, too.
The complexity arose when Jenny was not in the mansion, and Darios took Ellie to his dungeon. Grace blushed as she thought of the times she had crept down the long hallway and listened at the door leading down to the subterranean chamber. The sounds drifting upwards were very much like what she heard when Jenny was with her Master. She could only draw one conclusion from that.
It would seem that Ellie was both a Mistress to Jenny, and a submissive to Darios. As weird as this seemed, Grace came to understand that, too. While her own fantasies revolved around being submissive to Darios, even to the point of experiencing what he doled out in his dungeon, she had to admit that she got equally aroused when put in charge of the British whore - tramp - slut, Jenny. Tossing those demeaning names around in her head caused her pulse to rise once again.
Yanking her thoughts back to Ellie, Grace considered that Ellie helped Mr. Donelli with his projects, too, such as the girl-rail. They had partnered in some financial dealings on the east coast, and had openly discussed business transactions on several occasions while dining or relaxing on the back deck.
But right now, all of those thoughts were just a way of occupying her time as she sat on the floor and waited for either Ellie or Darios – whoever came first.
Meanwhile, in the car parked in the driveway, Ellie looked at the clock on the dashboard and thought about Darios and the purpose for her visit. Usually she arrived at the mansion dressed in leather, and assisted Darios as Jenny’s Mistress. That day, however, she had arrived in freshly pressed clothing; a white button up blouse, a short black skirt, control top stockings, and high heels. Nothing else.
This attire was required when she came to be used by ‘her Sir’, when she wished to suffer for his pleasure, and when she wished to push her own boundaries. She trusted Darios, as did her Master, and had placed herself in his hands many times to do with as he wished. When she had texted her Sir earlier, he had replied that he would shorten his trip and meet her at the mansion in four hours time. It was nearly that now.
Maybe he had come home even earlier, though. He may be inside already, for all she knew. He never came out to greet her, but waited for her to knock on the large white door. She had originally thought that it was a Dom thing, not appearing to be waiting for the sub to arrive. However, she had come to understand there was a much deeper psychological aspect to it, just as her attire was a part of Darios’ mind games. It was a way of making her arrival a conscious decision.
Coming to the mansion as a submissive was one thing, but preparing herself to come was another. She couldn’t just hop in the car and drive over; there were steps she had to take so that she presented herself in the proper manner.
Darios had initially set only one condition, and that was that she wear a freshly pressed blouse. The first time she had come over she had pressed the blouse, thinking it was sort of an odd condition. After putting it on, she thought it looked nice, but her skirt looked shabby in comparison. So she had pressed it, too. The clothing looked fine, but now her makeup and hair was sub-par and she worked to make the entire look pleasing.
This, she learned, was the purpose of his ‘only’ condition. Each time she asked to be seen by her Sir, she spent considerable time preparing herself. Preparing herself for Him; to please Him. It made the entire process a very conscious act, and a very arousing one, too. How could she spend that time preparing herself without thinking about what was to come? It was impossible.
Well, if he was home, she had better not keep him waiting! She opened the car door and stepped out, smoothing out her skirt before walking up the granite steps to the imposing front door. Lifting the brass knocker, she brought it down three times, and waited.
She knew how the sound of the knocker echoed through the large house. If Darios didn’t hear it, Grace would. Lifting the knocker again, she brought it down three more times. Listening, she thought she heard Grace’s voice. Was she calling out to someone? Ellie’s pulse quickened. Her Sir must have made it home already!
Still, the door didn’t open, but Grace’s voice was still calling out. This was not normal, and the young woman stepped to the side to look through the narrow window at the right of the door, peeking into the foyer.
Grace was there, standing in the middle of the foyer. Odd. But much more odd was the chain she held. She was chained to the girl-rail!
Ellie stepped back to the door and began to enter the seventeen-digit security code that Darios had given her for the front door lock. He had insisted she memorize it in case he needed her to come to the mansion to take care of Jenny in his absence.
As she opened the door she heard the desperation in Grace’s voice.
“Oh thank God!” the chef cried out. “I’m so glad to see you, Ellie. You’ve got to help me get this chain off!”
Stepping into the grand foyer, Ellie looked around, and then at Grace. “Is Darios here?” It suddenly occurred to her that maybe her Sir had put Grace on the rail.
“No!” Grace replied quickly. “He mustn’t find me like this either. Please, Ellie, get the key!”
“Let me see.” Ellie stepped up to the older woman and held the chain near her collarbone so she could see the point where it attached to the collar. “Well that’s nice,” she said as she pulled down on the chain.
“What’s nice?” Grace asked, looking down at her savior. “What do you see? Can you get it off?”
Ellie examined the link that passed through the stud sticking through the leather. A smile crossed her face as she looked at the link. “He’s been tinkering with this thing for a couple of weeks. Damn, that looks really good.”
Darios had explained to her the basic mechanics of the ‘link-lock’, as he referred to it. Built into the lower section of the C was a spring-loaded piston. The link itself was made out of Titanium, but the inner core was made out of some softer material she couldn’t remember the name of. The piston assembly was imbedded in this softer core, and when the tension on the link passed a certain force it would trigger the piston and it would shoot out of it’s sheath and lock itself in the upper part of the C, thus closing the link.
It was the calibration of the trigger system that had been giving Darios problems. How many grams of force needed to be exerted before the piston shot out and locked the link? Ten grams? Twenty? He wanted the person attached to the link to be able to move about without triggering it, while also making it sensitive enough to trigger with only a slight tug.
Ellie felt along the surface of the link-lock and could barely feel the two separate sections of the link. It almost felt like it was a solid piece.
Grace was getting more agitated by the second. “Ellie, please! Is there a key or not?!”
Letting go of the chain, Ellie stepped back. “Well, yes and no. It’s not a key like you’ve ever seen, it’s an extremely thin rod that is inserted in a tiny hole at the top of the link."
Grace’s hand went to the link to try and feel the hole.
Ellie laughed, “It’s so small you won’t even feel it, Grace. Believe me I’ve tried and have never felt it. But it’s there.”
“Can you get this rod thing?”
Thinking for a moment, Ellie shook her head. “What would you have me do, Grace, search Mr. Donelli’s house while he’s gone? Rummage through his things?” She waited to let her words sink in, while watching Grace’s face. There was a desperation there that was beginning to make her quite aroused. She knew well enough the feeling of utter helplessness being locked to the girl-rail evoked. “I wouldn’t do that to anyone, but especially not to Darios.”
“Maybe there’s something in the kitchen you could use?” Grace suggested, a little hope creeping into her voice.
Ellie shook her head, “Sorry,” she said. “Believe it or not, the rod is made of a special alloy that completes a circuit inside the link. Even if we found something thin enough to fit into that hole, it wouldn’t do us any good.”
“What am I going to do?” the desperation thick again.
“Nothing you can do, I’m afraid, except to wait.” A sound outside attracted her attention and she stepped over to the window to look out. “And it looks as if your wait will be a short one.”
“What?!” the woman cried out, almost in tears. “He didn’t tell me he was coming home this early!”
Ellie turned on Grace and said, “Is he required to update you on changes to his travel plans?”
The words came out of her mouth before she realized her voice had taken a decidedly dominant tone. She would never speak to Grace in this manner, but having the woman locked to the rail, and the statement she had just made, had triggered her response. She had suddenly become the Domme in this bizarre scenario.
“No… I only meant… oh, Ellie!” Grace cried as she tugged at the chain. “Why did I do this?! I’m going to get fired for sure!”
Ellie placed her hand on the chef’s shoulder, “Shhh, don’t worry, he’s not going to fire you.”
Grace looked at the young woman, “You don’t think so?”
“Of course not! He values you too much. You need to trust him, Grace. Everything will be fine, okay?”
Grace tried to smile, but it just wouldn’t come. She was still worried, and extremely embarrassed. Bare footed, half dressed, collared, and locked to the damn girl-rail; her private fantasy was about to be much more public than it already was.
Ellie heard the sound of a door opening and knew that Darios was bringing Jenny in through the door at the far end of the north hallway, and taking her straight down to the dungeon.
Turning to Grace, she asked, “Are you wearing panties?”
Grace’s face flushed red. “Of course! Why would you ask?”
Ellie put out her hand, “Unless you want them to end up in your mouth, you’d better give them to me.”
“What?!” Grace couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“You’re on the rail, Grace, and there are rules. I believe they apply to everyone. Hurry!”
Hearing more doors closing down the nearby hallway, Grace lifted her skirt and shimmied her panties down her legs, stepped out of them, and handed them to Ellie.
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” Ellie said. “Don’t go anywhere!” The smile on her face widened. She always wanted to say that!
Leaving the frightened woman behind, Ellie’s smile faded as she considered how she was going to approach her Sir with this news. He had altered his plans for her, and now she was in his house without permission, about to tell him his chef was locked to his girl-rail.
As she rounded the corner into the north hallway, the door to the dungeon stairwell opened and Darios appeared. He kicked a rubber doorstop under the door and forced it with the toe of his shoe to make sure the door remained open. This action alerted Ellie that he was leaving his slave bound in some manner in the chamber below.
With the door secured, he turned and began walking towards her, and he did not appear to be happy.
The Gathering in Chicago had been a good one. An annual get-together with a few close friends, Darios had enjoyed the company of the other Masters and Mistresses, and had equally enjoyed sharing Jenny with them. All had young beautiful slaves, so why did all eyes seem to turn to his Jenny?
He knew her age was one reason, and maybe her common good looks and fleshy curves were factors. But he also knew these were just surface characteristics, and that it was Jenny’s attitude and obedience that attracted their attention.
A mature slave, content to please her Master in every way, Jenny’s graceful demeanor stood out as a guide to the younger slaves in attendance. Yes, those who were not blindfolded or hooded watched the older slave intently and seemed to try to emulate her discipline. This did not go unnoticed by Darios’ friends, and although he was bursting with pride, he did not allow his precious slave to benefit from that feeling. She did though, he was sure of it. She knew her Master as well as he knew his slave.
The group had just finished an early brunch and had returned to their rooms when Darios received Ellie’s text. So she wanted to play… he didn’t mind leaving a little early to facilitate that. He simply called his pilot and instructed him to have the jet ready in an hour.
The sight of Ellie’s car in the driveway was, therefore, expected as he pulled his customized van around to the newly installed side entrance to the stately mansion. Backing in, much like a truck to a loading dock, he hopped out when the van had entered the sheltering awning of the bay, to open the rear doors.
“Hey, sleepy-head,” he said as he took a hold of his slumbering slave’s foot and shook it. “We’re home, wake up.” Darios knew his slave had just endured three days of non-stop activities, most of which were quite strenuous. With Ellie here, he would allow her to get some more sleep in the confines of her cage.
Jenny sat up and rubbed her eyes, “Home? Already?”
“Yes, now get ready.”
“Yes, Master, I’m ready.” The naked woman crawled to the back of the van and waited while her Master climbed back into the drivers seat and backed the van the rest of the way to the door. When the engine had been turned off, she reached across to a slot below the door and began to pull out a short ramp. It resembled the ramp on the back end of a moving truck, except that this ramp had a slot running down the center of its length where a rail had been installed.
The ramp was heavy, but Jenny had gotten used to that weight and maneuvered it carefully so that the tabs at the end sank into their corresponding holes on the back end of the van.
Darios swiveled his seat and walked towards the rear of the van, grabbing his gear bag as he passed by.
“Out you go, slut,” he said as he gave his slave a slap on her ass.
“Ow!” Jenny cried out as she held her chain and pulled it along the girl-rail imbedded in the floor of the van. She looked down as the ball at the end of the chain made the transition from the van to the ramp, and then glanced back at the man following her. “Thank you, Master.”
“You’re quite welcome, slut.” Her gratitude for his abuse of her was one of the things that drew the most comments at the get-together. No matter the severity of her Master’s attentions to her, she always remembered that those attentions were his gift to her, and she expressed her gratitude with genuine affection.
Watching his naked wench transition the rail from the ramp to the hallway rail, Darios crossed the ramp behind her. “Stop there, whore,” he said as he dropped his gear bag on the floor. “Kneel.”
Jenny dropped to her knees in the classic form, hands behind her back and knees spread.
“Would you like your hood on, whore?” Darios unzipped his duffel and searched through his gear.
Not looking up, the naked slave gave the response that never failed to arouse her; “If that would please you, Master.” Nothing aroused her more that providing her Master with pleasure. She would do anything he asked, and her own pleasure was contingent on the pleasure of her Sir.
Darios looked down the hallway, and then pulled the hood out of the bag and set it down on the floor.
“It would please me a great deal to hood my slut.” He wondered where Ellie was. Her car sat in the driveway, unoccupied, and she hadn’t made an appearance in the hallway. Maybe she was waiting in the dungeon. In any event, he did not want her to be seen by Jenny.
Pulling a little plastic baggie out of his duffle, Darios extracted two pink foam earplugs and rolled them between his fingers. Seeing his hand move towards her, Jenny reached up to hold her hair back, and tipped her head slightly to make it easier for her Master to insert the plugs. She tried to suppress her smile, but failed. Hooded and plugged! What was her Master planning?
With her ears plugged now, Jenny leaned forward slightly as Darios placed the opening of a black leather hood over the top of her head and began to pull it downward. She held her head as rigid as possible to allow the soft material to be pulled and stretched and positioned properly. She loved the tight confinement of this particular hood, and knew there were no openings for her eyes. There was an opening for her mouth, though, and when she felt a rubber ball pressed against her lips, she parted them to allow its entrance into her mouth. Without seeing it, she imagined it was a red ball gag. Her Master liked to use red gags with black hoods, and black gags with red hoods. She didn’t know why, nor had she ever asked. It was just how He liked things.
Jenny felt the straps being pulled tightly so that the rubber ball rested behind her teeth, and then felt her Master’s hands smoothing out the leather that hugged her head and the little tugs that indicated he was tightening the laces in the rear. Moments later, there was some tugging on the straps as the gag was buckled behind her head. Focusing on the gag, and how it held her mouth, she was a little dismayed when she realized it was one his smaller gags – a sleeping gag. Darios liked to stretch her jaws so wide she feared they would dislocate, but he would never put her to bed like that. The use of the smaller gag was an indication of what was now in store for her.
The truth was though, she was exhausted, and the short trip from the airport when she had been allowed to sleep had done little to revitalize her. She desperately needed to sleep, and was grateful that her Master understood this, too.
Satisfied that his whore’s head was properly enclosed in the tight hood, Darios opened the door to the basement and held her by the arm, guiding her towards the steps. She could navigate the stairs blindfolded and cuffed, but there was no need to take any chances with her, and he reached across to guide her right hand to the railing.
A few muffled sounds could be heard from behind the gag; her thanks for the help. His hand went behind her to rest on the small of her naked back as she began her descent. The other hand was held a few inches in front of her in case she was to stumble. An injured slave would not be of much use to him.
The rail traversed the wall at the same level as the main floor until they had moved half way down the stairwell, and then it sloped downward until it reached the ceiling of the room below. At this point the ball holding the chain followed a rail bolted securely to the ceiling so that instead of having the chain hang from her collar to the floor, it hung from above.
When they entered the large room that served as his dungeon, Darios looked around for Ellie. The room was empty, and now he was beginning to get a little irritated. He did not enjoy games unless it was he who was initiating them. If she were trying to goad him into harsher treatment than usual, she would definitely not succeed. When he found her he would carefully access her demeanor, and if he sensed she was trying to manipulate him in any way… she would regret it! Not that he would be harder on her; quite the opposite in fact. He would most likely show her to the door.
Guiding Jenny along under the rail that ran east to west, they finally came to her small iron cage. His grip on the chain near her collar tightened and she was stopped there. Moving in front of his most prized possession, he pulled her into his arms and felt her arms come up and around him. The smell of leather filled his nostrils as he pressed against the side of her head with his own and then lowered his lips to kiss her neck and shoulders. This woman, his slave, felt wonderful in his arms, and he soaked in the radiance of her submissiveness to him.
Jenny snuggled into her Master and held him tightly as his hands caressed her naked back and ass. By his actions she knew where they were in the dungeon and awaited the downward pressure of his hands before she sank to her knees, and then down to all fours. Lifting her head expectantly, Darios moved close so that his groin pressed against the ball gag.
In an action that pleased them both, Jenny rubbed her head against his erection, showing her Master her desire for him. He had no doubts that, should he decide to remove the gag, she would engulf him with all sincerity.
Feeling Darios’ knee pressing against her shoulder, Jenny backed up slowly until she felt the cool metal of the cage against the outside of her thigh. Adjusting her direction, she continued backing into the cage until she was fully on top of her thin mattress. The vibrations around her meant the chain had been passed through a slot in the front gate and it had been closed. She pressed her head upwards into the corner closest to where her Master would be standing and felt his hand on her hooded head. The tired slave waited for the hand to be withdrawn before she curled up on her mat and settled in.
Comforted by the routine of what they had just done, it didn’t matter to Jenny that she had been deprived of her vision and hearing by the leather hood. By the routine, she knew where she was, and knew she was safe. She had no other concerns, and easily drifted off to sleep.
Heading up the stairs, two at a time, Darios went in search of his little lost subbie. Leaving the door to the dungeon propped open behind him, he turned and saw Ellie rounding the corner from the hallway leading to the foyer. He was about to ask her what she thought she was doing when he saw her hands come up in a stopping motion.
Okay, this was highly unusual. Not only that, but she was carrying her panties in her hand. What the fuck? She knew better than to bring panties when she came to the house as a submissive, and she knew what the punishment would be.
Seconds from voicing his displeasure, Darios noticed the look on the young sub’s face. It almost looked like she was frightened. Something was definitely going on in the house that he didn’t know about.
“Sir,” Ellie said in a hushed voice as she neared Darios, “I know what this must look like, but I swear these are not mine.” She held the panties out towards the Dom and released them into his grip. “I’ve learned that lesson, Sir, I would never…”
“I can see they’re not yours, L,” Darios stated gruffly, cutting her off in mid-sentence. When he spoke to the woman as a submissive, he preferred to think of her name as just a single letter, and had instructed her to think of it that way, too.
“So, where did you get them?” Darios noticed a slight blush on Ellie’s cheeks and saw that she looked down towards the floor. What was going on? “Out with it!” he demanded.
“They belong to Grace, Sir,” her reply came, almost whispered.
“Explain.” It was a simple, curt, command. “Look at me.”
The beautiful young submissive looked up into Darios’ eyes and relaxed a little bit. Gone was the fire she had seen a few moments earlier. His gaze had returned its normal intense state of concentration as if he had flipped a switch and was ready now to process her news.
Still a little nervous to be under his scrutiny, Ellie related the events of the past twenty minutes. As she approached the end of her admissions it was clear by her Sir’s body language that he had relaxed considerably. When she described how Grace had desperately fingered the link-lock in search of the key-hole he could no longer suppress his smile.
“It’s good, isn’t it, L?”
“Yes, Sir, it’s very good.” She returned his smile, feeling a sudden urge to give the Dom a hug, yearning to be closer to him, and to offer herself to him. It was not her place to do that, though, and she knew full well he would push her away for assuming she could do what she wished. Those thoughts only served to spark her arousal as she knew the man was firmly in control of her and her actions. He controlled her in a slightly different way than her own Master did, and it was this difference that drew her to Darios. His methods were more physical, and… painful. Now she had to concentrate to hold her arousal in check!
Darios’ mind was busy imagining his chef; his slave’s collar around her neck, locked to the girl-rail by the chain, standing in the center of his open foyer. How exposed! How very embarrassing for her! He had never thought of Grace in a sexual way, not that she wasn’t attractive, because she certainly was, but because of the professional relationship they shared.
He knew, though, that their relationship had evolved past the purely professional years ago, and they had become quite close. She had seen him at his best, and at his worse. She knew things about him that very few people knew. He trusted her with his most prized possession, and she trusted him, as well. And even though he was surprised by Ellie’s revelations that day, in a way he was not surprised at all.
How he handled this would define their relationship in the future. Did he want a world-class chef, or another slave? Well… a slave that could cook. Hmmm.
Reaching out for Ellie, he pulled her against him and felt the crisply ironed fabric of her blouse. She felt wonderful, and he wanted to use her in the worse way, literally, more so when he felt the young woman return his hug. He was not going to waste this opportunity.
Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I just put Jenny to bed, so go down to my workroom and wait for me there. This will only take a few minutes.”
“Yes, Sir,” Ellie replied as Darios pulled away from her embrace and gave her a pat on the rear. She headed towards the basement stairs, wondering what he was going to do with Grace.
Darios headed down the hallway, wondering the same thing.
End of part 1
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