“Hello, dear.”
Smiling, Mellisandra gazed down at the woman struggling on the floor. Tight leather straps encircled the woman’s body at regular intervals from shoulders to ankles, while a leather panel covered her mouth. Altogether, Mellisandra thought, a most appealing sight. Still, much as she enjoyed the view, it was time to get things moving.
“House, let her talk.” Immediately, the gag vanished from the bound woman’s mouth. For a moment, the woman’s jaws worked silently before she found her voice.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “How did I get here? And why am I tied up?”
Mellisandra smiled. “All very good questions, my dear. I am Mellisandra, your new Mistress. You were brought here by magic, once I saw you and realized I just had to have you. As to why you are bound, that is quite simple. You are now a slave, my slave, and you will be bound when and as I choose.”
“I’m no slave,” the woman retorted. “Let me go now, or I’ll…..OW!” Even in its bonds, the woman’s body managed to jump slightly, rolling her to her stomach. Mellisandra smiled at the brand now seared into the woman’s ass, a perfect circle holding the letter “M”.
“Slave you are,” she replied, “and as a slave you have been marked. As you can see, I am a witch, but I’ve grown tired of the lengthy procedures required to cast spells. For that reason, I have given my house the ability to tend to minor things like slave handling. That in itself required a very long incantation, and more power than I’ve expended in a long time. Well worth it, though.”
Mellisandra knelt and, ignoring the bound woman’s struggles, slowly ran her hand along the helpless body, pausing briefly on a firm breast before slipping her fingers between the woman’s thighs.
“This house,” she explained, her hand gently stroking between the bound woman’s thighs, “will see to your training, your care, and, if need be, your punishment. All without any need for supervision by myself. You see, the house is specially enchanted to handle slaves. And as you will see, it has some nasty tricks up its sleeve, figuratively speaking.
“For one, it was the house that bound you. It will do so at random times, without prior warning. Once bound, the house will not release you until you have achieved orgasm.” Mellisandra shrugged slightly. “Or,” she added, “until your health becomes at risk. Either way, you can be sure of remaining bound for some time, during which, should I discover you, it will be my pleasure to add to your helpless torment.” At these words, Mellisandra grinned in anticipation, her fingers bearing down a bit more between the woman’s thighs.
“But what should I call you, my dear? What is your name?” The woman, her body beginning to respond to Mellisandra’s touch, managed to gasp out the name Sandra. “Sandy it is. Now, let’s see if we can make you cum. I want to see you without your bonds. Just remember, the house is sealed to prevent escape. Nobody wearing my mark will be allowed outside. All our food and other needs are delivered, so there’s really no need to go outside. Now, cum for me, my slave.”
Under Mellisandra’s expert ministrations, Sandra’s body tensed, then arched into a powerful orgasm. Slowly, her body relaxed, bonds vanishing, so that she lay limp but free on the floor.
“Very good,” Mellisandra purred. “Now your slavery can truly begin.”
Mellisandra roamed the rooms of her large house, wondering where her slave might be today. In the past week, she had experienced the delight of seeing Sandra bound in a variety of places and positions. Once, she had even discovered her bound to the toilet. Her house, she decided, did indeed have a wicked sense of humor. Now, in a mood to play, she hoped she would find her slave bound in some wickedly accessible position.
Entering the dining room, she paused, smiling in appreciation. Sandra stood at the end of the long table, her ankles bound to the legs, holding her feet wide apart. Her upper body was bent forward across the table, rope from her wrists stretching to the far end, holding her in position. Sandra squirmed helplessly, muffled sounds emerging from the panel covering her mouth.
“Oooh, this is perfect,” Mellisandra purred in delight, slipping off her robe. Naked, she approached the bound woman, running her hands across the helpless body stretched out before her. Using one hand, she stroked softly between Sandra’s thighs, soon rewarded by the feel of moisture.
“I think,” she said softly, “my slave Sandy needs a bit of personal attention.” So saying, she knelt behind the bound woman, leaning forward and gently, teasingly, licking her mound. Slowly, she felt Sandra’s body begin to respond.
Reaching up and grasping the sides of the table, Mellisandra continued her teasing, probing the cleft between the bound woman’s thighs, never quite letting her tongue penetrate. Before long, Sandra’s body was squirming in its bonds, soft moans of need penetrating her gag. Leaning her head back, Mellisandra decided it was time to let her slave simmer for a bit. It was then she discovered that not all was as it should be.
At some point, she discovered, something had bound her arms to the sides of the table. Her legs, slightly spread, were now held that way by a spreader bar attached to cuffs on her ankles. For a moment, she was puzzled at this, then her eyes widened.
The house! Obviously, the house had detected her, naked, kneeling with her face between Sandra’s thighs, and decided she was another slave. Acting with the power she had given it, the house had accordingly bound her, as well.
“House,” she demanded, “let me go at once. I am no slave. I am Mmmmmmpppphhhh!” Her commands muffled by the gag that suddenly filled her mouth, Mellisandra squirmed in her bonds. Suddenly, her whole body jumped as she felt a searing pain on her ass. She didn’t have to see to know what she would find there. It would be a perfect circle, the letter “M” in its center. She had now been branded a slave.
Sobbing, Mellisandra fought against her bonds, knowing full well that, with the brand she now wore, the house would refuse to accept any commands she might give. In fact, it would punish her should she try to command it.
Mellisandra slumped in her bonds for a moment, then leaned forward, rubbing she smooth panel covering her mouth against Sandra’s mound. Maybe, she thought, I can get her off. Then, when the house releases her, maybe she’ll do the same for me so I can be free. Somehow, she doubted Sandra would be so generous with her. Still, she could only try.
Slowly, deliberately, Mellisandra, the house’s newest slave, began servicing Sandra as best her bonds would allow.
31.10.13