He came out of the bathroom and Giselle saw that he had clearly been thinking similar thoughts, a considerable erection bulging beneath the loose pyjamas.
When Moira followed, Giselle could quite understand why.
Clad only in a short, pure white, semi-transparent nightie through which her nipples and pubic hair showed as darker patches, her slim arms and legs and face glowed with well scrubbed health, the perfect image of the girl-next-door completed by the ponytail of wet hair dangling down across her bare left shoulder.
It was obvious that she hadn’t realised that she was not alone with her husband, for as soon as she saw Giselle kneeling in submission by the bed, she gave a little gasp and her hands flew to cover her breasts and sex.
“Relax, Moira,” the man chuckled, “There’s nothing to be worried about. She’s only a slave-girl and you saw her last night, at dinner.”
“Y...Yes, I know, David. But...But what is she doing here?”
“She brought us our breakfast and it’s getting cold, so come back to bed and let’s eat.”
“But...what about her?”
“She’s a slave-girl. Just ignore her. She won’t move.” He glanced casually down at Giselle. “You won’t, will you, slave-girl?”
“No, Sir,” Giselle replied at once, the only answer she could make.
“See. I told you. Now come back to bed.”
“No, David. I...I can’t. Not with her...looking at us.”
“Oh, that’s easily fixed. Close your eyes, slave and don’t open them until I tell you.”
Giselle shut her eyes, trembling, aware of the electric tension in the room.
“There now, Moira. Now she can’t see us. So do as I ask, please.”
The rustle of silk sheets told Giselle that the girl had done what she had been told.
“Good, Moira. Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“No, David.” Moira’s voice was low and nervous as she replied to him.
“You see. It’s quite easy to be a good girl and obey me when you try, isn’t it?”
He waited, but Moira didn’t answer.
“I said, it’s quite easy to obey me when you try, isn’t it, Moira?” David repeated his words, but this time, his voice held a hard, uncompromising edge and Giselle shivered, realising that a battle of wills was taking place right next to her.
The quaver in Moira’s voice showed that she knew that something odd and vitally important was happening between her and her new husband, but that she didn’t know what it was.
“David? Wh...What are you d...doing?” she began hesitantly. “Why are you being so c...cold and st...stern with me? You’re...scaring me and I don’t l...like it.”
He gave a theatrical sigh, “It’s a simple question, Moira and I’d like you to answer it, please. Now, come on. Is it easy to obey me or not?”
“Well...Yes, I suppose so, David,” she said at last. “But I don’t see why you ask?”
“You will,” he said briefly. “Take off your nightie for me, will you, please.”
“Wh...What? But...but why? What for?”
“Questions, questions, always question,” he chuckled, “Humour me, darling. Just take it off and give it to me, will you.”
“But I’ll be...naked.”
“Yes, of course you will.”
“If I d...do it, what are you going to d...do?” Moira was clearly worried and Giselle didn’t blame her.
David was being deliberately difficult and evasive and Giselle, unlike Moira, had a pretty good idea where his demands were leading his unsuspecting new wife.
“Trust me, darling,” David said. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Giselle was sure that he did and could hardly believe her ears or the breathtaking duplicity beneath his soft words.
Moira, however, lacking Giselle’s hard experience of the deviousness of dominant men, was taken in completely.
“All right, David, if you say so,” and there was a soft rustle of cloth, “There you are.”
“Thank you. That’s much better. You have a lovely body and I like to see you naked. In fact, I think you should be kept naked all the time.”
“David!” Moira was shocked, but obviously pleased by what she assumed was a compliment, rather than a declaration of intent on his part.
“What’s the matter, Moira? Don’t you like being naked so that I can enjoy seeing you whenever I want?”
“Yes, of course I do, darling. But it’s, well, embarrassing when you talk like that in front of...you know...”
Giselle knew that Moira meant her, but as Giselle was stark naked herself, it seemed a silly thing to be embarrassed about.
In any case, she knew that if David had his way, Moira would soon have a lot more to worry about than being naked.
“Don’t worry about it, Moira. Sit up, darling, I want to talk something over with you.”
Giselle tensed. Here it came...
“What is it, David? You look very serious. Is something wrong?”
“No, no. Nothing’s wrong at all. In fact everything is perfect. Or rather, it soon will be.”
“Oh. Well, good.”
“Yes, my sweet. Everything will be perfect...just as soon as you agree to become my obedient love-slave and wear the collar and chains I have had made for you.”
In the deathly hush that followed his announcement, Giselle congratulated herself on the accuracy of her assessment of David’s plans for his new wife, noting the fact that he had not said that he would have a collar and chains made for her but that he already had.
Which meant that Moira, whether she realised it or not, was as good as enslaved already.
The eerie silence was broken by Moira’s shaky voice, its tone rising and becoming louder as she protested.
“C...C...Collar? Ch...Chains? What ...chains? What do you mean? What are you going to do? David? David, answer me. I’m not a slave. I’m not. You c...can’t. You w...wouldn’t. I won’t let you. Don’t even joke about it, darling.”
“But I’m not joking, my love,” David’s voice was soft and low, but filled with absolute conviction and Giselle recognised the iron will that lay behind every word.
Moira recognised it, too and her voice rose to a frightened squeak.
“No. No, David, please. I love you. You can’t make me your sl...slave and...and keep me in chains and...and naked. You just can’t. I...I won’t do it. No way. I absolutely forbid you to do it. Why are you frightening me like this? What do you w...want from me?”
David cut into her flow of arguments. “What do I want from you? That’s an easy one to answer, my sweet. I want you with my collar on your throat and my chains on your body. I want you kneeling naked at my feet. I want your unquestioning obedience and complete submission to my will. In other words, Moira, I want you as my slave...and that is exactly what I’m going to get.”
“No. Oh, David, no. You’re mad. Crazy. It’s...It’s out of the question. I absolutely refuse to listen to any more. You must be out of your mind to even think that I’d agree to...to let you put a collar on me and make me your…your slave.”
David’s low, menacing chuckle sent a shiver through Giselle as she listened intently and she felt a thrill of sympathy for the shocked woman as she learned the unthinkable truth of her husband’s intentions towards her.
“Oh dear,” he sighed, “Now that is a shame, Moira. I had hoped that you would be sensible about this, but I see that you’re going to make it difficult. Very well, if you won’t be my slave-girl willingly, then you will just have to be enslaved unwillingly.”
“What are you doing? No. Stop. Let me go. Oww, you’re hurting me. Let me go, David. Help. Oh, help me someone.”
Moira’s cries and protests were accompanied by the sounds of a scuffle and bodies thrashing around on the bed above Giselle’s kneeling body and as she wondered what was happening, she heard David’s sharp command, “On your feet, slave and open your eyes.”
Giselle sprang
up and gave a gasp of astonishment as she saw the scene before her.
Face down on the rumpled sheets, her wrists pinned behind her back by her husband’s strong right hand and her legs clamped between his thighs, Moira’s naked body writhed impotently in efforts to free herself, screaming threats and pleas as she fought against his superior strength.
“Go and find your Master,” David snapped above the din of Moira’s protests, “Ask him to give you the box I gave him and bring it to me.”
“No. Don’t listen to him.” Moira shouted. “Get help. Find someone to get him off me. Please. Please.”
“Move, slave,” David countered. “Or I’ll whip you myself. And while you’re at it, bring back a gag. A big one.”
Giselle knew which side her bread was buttered and knew, too, that there could only be one winner of the battle between the man and woman on the bed.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied humbly, “Right away, Sir.” She hurried off, closing her ears to the screams of horror and misery of the soon-to-be-enslaved Moira.
Anton and Miles were both still in the kitchen and when Giselle raced in and sank to her knees, they gave a snort of laughter. “So he’s decided to do it, has he?” Anton grinned as Giselle made her request. “Good for him. I didn’t think he’d have the nerve. I’ll bet she’s giving him hell right now, but as long as he doesn’t go soft on her, she’ll calm down eventually.”
Miles agreed, “They always do, as soon as they find out that crying and screaming won’t work. That’s when she’ll pretend to agree with him and try to distract him with sex. If he’s got any sense, he’ll put the cuffs on her then, before she finds out that he’s going to enslave her anyway, no matter what she says.”
“Right, Miles. And once the cuffs are on, it’s all over.”
“Well, it certainly was for our slaves, eh, my friend.” Miles held out a heavy package to Giselle, then added, “Isn’t that right, slave?”
Giselle blushed, “Yes, Master. A woman who wears a Master’s steel on her throat and limbs is a slave, whether she knows it or not.”
“Well said, Giselle,” Anton was pleased with her answer. “You have clearly learned from wearing my steel.”
“Yes, Master” she replied softly, “I am your slave and I thank you for locking your collar on me and making me what I want to be.”
Her obvious sincerity delighted Anton, who tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his pleasure behind a screen of gruffness. “So you should thank me, slave,” he growled, “After all I’ve done for you. Now, get on your feet and take that box upstairs.”
“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,” Giselle risked a smile, then hurried away, leaving the two men grinning.
Upstairs, the only change was that Moira was no longer screaming protests.
Instead, she was sobbing bitterly, exactly as Giselle’s Masters had anticipated and the slave wondered how they could have known...and whether their next predictions would be as accurate.
“There you are, slave-girl. Bring the box to me.”
As Giselle moved to the bed and went to her knees, Moira raised her tear stained face.
“Wh...What’s in the box, David?” she asked nervously, but he didn’t answer.
“Open it, slave-girl and show her,” he ordered and Giselle lifted the lid.
Slowly, she drew out a broad, flat mesh of glittering chain, some two inches in width, the individual links beautifully crafted so that it could easily have been mistaken for a piece of expensive jewellery.
Even the precisely machined locking devices at each end could have been simple snap catches...if there had been any method of releasing them once they were pressed together.
It was a lovely piece of work.
Moira didn’t seem to think so. “What...is that?” she breathed, her eyes wide.
“That, my love,” David replied calmly, “Is your slave collar. Show her the rest.”
Giselle laid the collar down gently, then, one at a time, drew out the matching cuffs for Moira’s wrists and ankles and laid them next to the collar.
Stunned, Moira looked at the gleaming symbols of her enslavement, then twisted her head awkwardly to look over her shoulder at her husband. “You had all those made for...for me?”
He nodded and she shivered, her eyes held by his steady gaze.
After a few seconds, her eyes slid away and she cleared her throat nervously. “Uh, David,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about...about what you said. Maybe I...uh...overreacted. If you ...really want me to be your...uh...slave-girl, then....maybe I could...could do it.”
“Go on,” David replied coolly.
“Yes, yes I’m s...sure I could,” Moira struggled to sound convinced. “I think it would be f...fun to have to...uh...obey you. Especially if I was n...naked. You could order me to do any...anything you wanted and I’d h...have to do it. I’d be your sexy little sl...slave and you could h...have me any time you liked.”
Giselle was astounded. Moira was following the steps her Masters had said she would, almost as if she were an actress reading a script.
“That sounds great, Moira,” David was thoroughly enjoying himself. “But what about your collar and cuffs? Don’t you think they would look lovely on you? If you were being my slave-girl, I mean?”
Moira hesitated, then took a deep breath and plunged on, “Uh, well, yes, David. They’re beautiful. You could p...put them on me when you wanted me to be your...uh...slave and...uh...take them off when you decided to let me go.”
David looked thoughtfully at her for a long moment. “Yes,” he said slowly, “That seems fair. Very well, darling, it’s a deal.”
Moira let out the breath she had been holding. “Oh, lovely, darling. Yes, it’s a deal. It’ll be fun and I promise to be good and obedient.”
“I hope so,” David told her. “Slave-girls get punished if they are not.”
“Yes, David,” she agreed, smiling with relief, then added hopefully, “Now that’s all settled, will you let my arms go?”
“Yes, of course. I can’t very well fit your cuffs and collar, otherwise, now can I?”
“Um, but I thought...?”
“What did you think, Moira?”
“Well...I thought I’d only have to wear them when...when I was being a slave, David.”
“That’s right, darling, you do. But I really want to see how they look on you and it’s a good opportunity to make sure they fit properly.”
“Uh, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind, David.”
“Ah, but I do mind, my love, so I’d like you to sit up on the side of the bed and put your hands behind your back.”
Moira’s eyes took on a hunted expression and stared around the bedroom as if searching for help when there was none to be had.
At last, she had to accept the fact and with a delicate shudder, sat up and swung her legs down to the floor, hunching her shoulders and bending forward so that her breasts and belly were hidden.
“David?” she begged humbly, “Please? Couldn’t we...Couldn’t we do this some other time? Please, David?”
He didn’t reply immediately, but then said obliquely, “Do you remember our marriage service, Moira?”
She looked up, surprised, “Yes, of course.”
“Then you should remember that you promised to love, honour...and obey,” he said firmly. “This is where the obey part comes into force.”
Moira gulped, staring at him imploringly, but he stood unmoving, his face set in a determined frown.
She made a last, despairing effort to dissuade him. “Do I have to, David? I really don’t want to.”
“Perhaps not, my love. But you’re going to.”
There could be no answer to that and Moira realised it.
With a choked moan, she allowed her hands to creep slowly to the small of her back.
David grinned wolfishly, “Thank you, darling. Now, keep quite still.”
He reached for one of the broad, steel mesh cuffs, lifted her right arm and smoothed
the glittering band around her slim wrist.
As he applied firm pressure to the ends of the band, the locking devices meshed smoothly, clamping the cuff on her skin.
“That’s one,” David said cheerfully. “Have a look, Moira.”
She took her arm from behind her back and stretched it out, staring intently at the links of steel glittering against her flesh.
“It’s...It’s lovely, David,” she said softly. “So delicate, but...strong looking.”
“Oh, it’s strong,” he agreed complacently. “Too strong for you to break, anyway.”
He took the second cuff and locked it on her left wrist.
Moira didn’t seem to notice, still entranced by the other band, turning her hand this way and that and watching the reflections of light flashing from the links of chain.
“Give me your hand, Moira,” he instructed, “I want to lock the cuffs together.”
“Oh, not yet, David. Please,” she said softly. “Can I just compare it with...with hers?” She looked down to where Giselle knelt patiently.
“Yes, all right. Show her your cuffs, slave.”
Giselle held her wrists out, alongside Moira’s and the two women inspected their bonds in silence.
The chain was indisputably more decorative than the simple, polished steel ring on Giselle’s wrists, but both were efficient, practical...and more than capable of holding a female slave.
“Your cuffs look good on you...uh...slave-girl,” Moira said quietly.
“Thank you, Madam,” Giselle replied, “So do yours.”
Moira stared at her, then stared at the steel encircling her wrist, as if she couldn’t understand what it was doing there.
“They both look good,” David broke the silence. “Give me your hand, Moira.”
She looked up at him, then placed her arm behind her back, her wrists side by side. “All right, David,” she said slowly, “I give in.”
His fingers pressed firmly and a series of metallic clicks confirmed that her cuffs were locked.
Moira tensed and a tremor shook her body as steel resisted her efforts to move her wrists apart.
Bondage Hotel Page 13
