The Bound Lily

by L. L. Chance

  My mischievous side took over, and to ensure they wouldn’t interrupt me while I made breakfast, I grabbed a set of padded cuffs and locked one of Billy’s ankles to one of Sylvia’s, running the chain around the bedframe to ensure they both stayed put.

  I managed it without waking either of them, and quietly snuck out of the room. It didn’t take long to brew some coffee and put together a simple platter of fruit, muffins, and bagels, but they were both awake when I returned.

  Billy looked affronted that I’d usurped his morning duties and made breakfast myself, since he’d planned on cooking all of our favorites. Sylvia seemed amused at our banter, but asked to be released since she had her own pressing needs to take care of. The food I’d put together might not have been as good as Billy’s famous eggs Benedict, but we devoured every last crumb anyway.

  I spent the rest of the day poolside doing nothing more strenuous than working on my tan. I really enjoyed sunbathing, and even though Laste had a beautiful pool area, I never took advantage of it for some reason. I’d have to make sure I took some time for it when we went back in a few months, or maybe he had a pool at his ranch.

  We’d be joining him there in a few weeks since Sylvia was once an expert in the ponygirl field, and could teach both Monica and myself a lot. I was curious about it myself, since my only experience with it was under Claire’s hand, and that wasn’t even the full deal.

  They had their own expert joining them when they arrived, though, so Sylvia thought it best if we let her handle the initial training and chores. Lidia could instruct Brandon in exactly what he needed to make for ponygirl tack and equipment, while we sat in the sun here. Good deal.

  Even though we weren’t there, I still learned a lot about the scene from listening to Sylvia’s stories. It wasn’t simply another type of D/s scene like I’d thought, but a complete way of life for some people. There were even formal competitions amongst different ‘stables’, with events running the gambit from parades, dressage shows, obstacle courses, and all kinds of races.

  I got excited when I found out there were races where the pony pulled a driver in a small cart called a sulky, and really wanted to try that myself. My dad was a complete motor head, and I grew up in the pits of one racetrack or another.

  If it had an engine and he could stick me behind the wheel, I drove it. Junior dragsters, Karts, mini-sprints… I did it all. Driving a ponygirl cart sounded more fun than the whole lot combined, and she promised to teach me everything she knew.

  Despite the fact we’d come here to rest and relax, she took to giving me a few lessons in the basics so I’d look like I knew what I was doing when I started controlling Monica. Billy was more than happy to play pony for us, and I learned how to guide him with the reins while he was blindfolded.

  I also learned what to watch for, in both etiquette and safety. Posture, proper high-steps, and basic commands were easy enough to both learn and teach, but body language was a lot harder to figure out. It was difficult to learn what dehydration, strained muscles, or pulled tendons looked like, since all Billy could do was try to fake it for me.

  I looked into buying a sulky so I could get some driving experience under my belt, but it’d take too long to get one custom built for us, and we only had another couple of weeks before we needed to join everyone in Texas. I had him pull me up and down the driveway in a wheelchair for the fun of it, but that was the best we could do.

  One thing I could practice a lot was the use of the buggy whip. I brought one of our dressmaker dummies out to the patio and practiced until I could land a perfect blow anywhere on the body, and even Sylvia was impressed by how fast I picked it up.

  I’m sure sitting naked in the sun with a margarita in one hand and a whip in the other was a strange sight, but nobody laughed at me. Unfortunately, our time of relaxation came to an abrupt and early end when Laste called, saying he needed us as soon as possible.

  Apparently Lidia was beyond cruel in her training methods, and drove Monica without mercy until she collapsed due to a combination of exhaustion, dehydration, heat stroke, sunburn, and a rather severe whipping. He was absolutely furious with her, and kicked her off the ranch the moment he found out, but the damage was already done.

  Sylvia booked us tickets a few days away so we could have a final little party before going back to work, but it wasn’t as good as it should’ve been. My mind was already down in Texas.

  ***

  The Texas ranch was hotter than the Devil’s arsehole compared to our California home, and dust got everywhere no matter how careful I was. At least the place was clean and orderly, which was a huge relief to me. All traces of the previous four-legged occupants had been completely obliterated.

  To avoid a repeat of Monica’s overheating, I helped Laste design and build a pit-row style station on the inside of the track. It had a shaded area, food and water, and even an overhead sprinkler system so we could cool off in a hurry. Even Sylvia was impressed with how it turned out.

  The thing Sylvia wasn’t impressed with, was Jerry’s first attempt at building a sulky. It was a crude affair that had no stability whatsoever, and was balanced so badly that it practically drove Monica to her knees when we hooked it up to her. Sylvia pointed out the numerous flaws and had him build a new one.

  His second sulky was crude looking but highly efficient. Bigger wheels were spaced a touch farther apart, and the seat could slide forward or backwards to adjust the balance depending on the driver’s weight. I quickly fell in love with it.

  After the disaster with Lidia, Laste took a more hands-on approach to Monica’s training, but let me take over for several hours each day. I was a lot more liberal with the whip than he was, but I made sure I didn’t hit hard enough to do any damage. I was also a much better driver than he was, but I tried not to brag about it in front of him.

  Fresh air, clean living, healthy food, and lots of exercise were having a noticeable effect on Monica, and I’m sure she’d never been in better shape in her entire life. We didn’t exactly start going easy on her, but we decided she’d earned a few privileges and rewards for all her hard work.

  If she performed well for me, I’d usually let her decide on what type of training we’d do the next day. I rarely had to override her choices, since she’d usually pick one of the cart courses, and I was addicted to driving. My favorite was when we dotted the oval course with hay bales and made her run around the obstacles blindfolded. It really taught her to both trust and obey me.

  When Laste let her choose a reward, it was invariably sexual in nature, and usually included Shelly as well. She was always a little tired the next morning after a reward night with them, but her lack of energy was compensated by an increase in submission and obedience. It was a good tradeoff.

  Over the next month we gradually made things more difficult for her, to test how submissive she really was. Her regular footwear was replaced with the harsh pony boots Lidia had used on her, we changed her ponytail butt plug and bit gag for larger ones, and added nipple clamps to her regular tack.

  As a test, he made her sleep wearing her complete rig and kept her blinders shut for a full week, but she never tried to complain or got sullen about it. She really was learning obedience and self-discipline, and things were looking up. His crazy plan to straighten her out was actually working.

  Out of all of us, it was Sylvia who figured out why her attitude had taken the recent turn for the better. Monica was starting to fall for him. It was obvious once she pointed it out to me, and I couldn’t really blame her since I’d felt the same way once. It was still a tough pill to swallow, though.

  I’m not sure if I’d subconsciously hoped for a return to our old ways together, but seeing Laste, Shelly, and Monica together stung a little. With her attitude under control, and Laste taking over more and more of her training, it meant I had too much free time on my hands now.

  I needed a change of scenery to expand my horizons, and some time to get my own life in order. I didn’t
want to abandon him and leave Monica’s training completely on his shoulders, but I began planning my next move. I wouldn’t act rashly or hastily, but one day in the near future I would act.

  Expanding My Horizons

  After we returned to his house, I let everyone know I wanted to strike out on my own sometime in the next few months. Only Sylvia wasn’t shocked at my announcement, and I wondered what I’d have to do in order to surprise her. I vowed that someday I’d think of something.

  Laste wasn’t pleased to hear I’d be leaving, but came up with a plan to keep me close enough to help him if he needed it. Simply put, he gave me the house he used to live in while going to school. Even though I had a healthy bank account by now, it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

  All he asked in return was a little help in some tests and trials he was putting Shelly and Monica through. Monica was being tested to see if she could be trusted without supervision, and we were both hopeful about her prospects.

  Shelly was being tested for another reason altogether, and while I knew the day was coming, it was hard to see it arrive; he wanted to marry her and offer her a permanent collar. I agreed to help him, but it wasn’t easy.

  In order to test their loyalty, he asked them to do something both illegal and immoral. He arranged for them to kidnap me and get my banking info with any means necessary. It reminded me of when I’d played the victim for Claude’s big fantasy, and I readily agreed.

  I was ‘captured’ while inspecting my new house and the sorry state the previous frat-boy tenants had left it in, and enjoyed their torments more than they knew. They actually managed to get my real banking info out of me and relayed it to Laste, passing his test and earning me another unexpected boost to my account.

  On the night of his second annual BDSM party he planned to collar Shelly, and he did so in the end, but not before some unexpected drama. She had gotten it in her head to offer to collar herself for him, and while it was a beautiful offer, it completely messed up his plans.

  He’d spent a fortune getting a custom collar made for her that wouldn’t have looked out of place sitting next to the crown jewels, so he took the collar she brought and offered it to Monica. She looked completely devastated at that, but when he pulled out his collar and gave it to her, she understood what he’d done and lots of predictable soppiness ensued.

  I left the party early and spent my first night in my new home. Rather than try to clean everything myself, I hired some girls from the nearby college. A few of them were former employees of Laste’s, and knew exactly how to set up the loft for what I needed.

  Along with the house I’d inherited the early creations of Brandon and Jerry, and while they were crude in the extreme, I decided I liked the rustic look and used them in my new dungeon. The boys even offered to upgrade them for me for free, but I declined.

  Billy came to help me get organized and Sylvia stayed with me for the first month, but when it came time for her next visit with Claude, she moved back home so I had the space to find myself without her interference. I was sad to see her go, but understood why she did it.

  I did take the boys up on their offer to help by having them build the one thing I’d missed, which was the bondage pyramid Sylvia invented. I had my own ideas for improving it, and with everyone’s help, it became the center piece for my new internet Domme business.

  It truly was a work of art, and unlike the static model Sylvia designed, my pyramid was completely modular. The original pyramid was used to keep the sub bound over the top where her own body weight would slowly crush her labia over the only slightly rounded top.

  It was hard to endure for any length of time, especially if the built-in vibrator was turned on. The top portion of my pyramid could be replaced with a variety of surfaces and devices, making longer term scenes more practical or short ones quite cruel. I was extremely proud of it.

  It could deliver exquisite pain or unbelievable pleasure. It could be a spanking bench or a bondage device for a multitude of sexual positions. When Laste sent me a surprise shipment of custom vibrators designed specifically for it, it became an overnight online sensation.

  I had a waiting list longer than my arm of college girls wanting to star in my Friday and Saturday night shows, both for the amazing experience and for the two thousand bucks I paid them for four hours of ‘work’. Once word got out about how intense the pleasure could be, I even had some girls offer to do the show for free.

  I was starting to make a name for myself as a Dominatrix, although some of the traditionalists turned their noses up at me for doing the internet thing. I think someone even complained to Sylvia about my ‘improper behavior’ because she came to stay with me for a few weeks and helped me with my shows in order to squash the complaints of the Evil Nay-Sayers.

  My revenue tripled after that week and the complaints stopped almost immediately. Even though she was officially retired from the scene, her name was a name of power, and nobody would speak against me after she’d given her seal of approval for what I was doing.

  God I loved her.

  It wasn’t long before I had phone calls and emails from people around the world who wanted a night under the control of Sylvia’s chosen successor, and it scared me shitless. Dominating inexperienced college girls was one thing, but topping rich and powerful submissives that’d been in the scene a lot longer than I’d been was something else entirely.

  I finally decided to try it with a few of the ones who seemed the least likely to want to cause me to fail, and my reluctance actually worked in my favor. From the outside, it looked like I was extremely selective about whom I wanted to top, and the prices offered to me skyrocketed.

  I don’t know if it was out of pity for my situation, or out of fond remembrance for the interrogation scene I’d done with her before, but Claire Grey publically outbid everyone by an order of magnitude, and also agreed to let me stream the entire weekend scene live. I couldn’t refuse.

  Despite being spread across several continents, the elite in the scene were an extremely tight community. In under twenty-four hours, almost everyone of any consequence had signed up on my site. In three weeks I was going to be either a laughingstock or a Goddess, and the odds were about fifty-fifty over how it’d turn out.

  The one thing working in my favor was how much endurance Claire had. She’d once spent half a day on top of Sylvia’s pyramid, which I thought was amazing since I’d never been able to last more than fifteen minutes before I was whining about it like a bratty kid.

  While I was definitely in charge of the entire session, she did have a few suggestions and requests that she wanted me to incorporate if at all possible. I didn’t know if I had it in me or not, but agreed to at least keep it in mind, and hired Nurse Worther to stay with us for the weekend in case I actually went through with any of it.

  I found it almost obscenely unfair that when the day we were going to start finally arrived, the two of them were killing time by playing a game of cribbage and chatting about recent news, while I was pacing the floor with my nerves completely shot. I promised myself Claire would get an extra spanking session so I could get even with her, and I hoped she didn’t enjoy it either.

  Even though it was still a little early, I told them to change into the outfits they’d be wearing for the rest of the weekend. Claire had a huge latex fetish and both designed and created the outfits. She’d be wearing a semi-translucent white catsuit with stylish cutouts in the appropriate places, and Dana had a medical themed outfit.

  Both had hoods that would hide their faces, even though Dana wouldn’t be seen unless something went wrong. I went for more of a traditional look, with a shiny black catsuit, red knee boots, and shoulder length gloves. I skipped the corset for now, since I wanted mobility and flexibility while working this weekend.

  I wanted to make sure there’d be a good view of Claire no matter how she was bound to the pyramid, so I used seven cameras instead of my regular two. In addition to one on each side, I put one dir
ectly above, and two at floor level angling up the slope at the front and back. I hoped I had enough bandwidth to stream them all.

  I saw they’d both dressed like I’d asked, but then started another game while I was tweaking the camera positions. Fine… I swapped out the plain top I’d planned to start with, and replaced it with the one covered in horsehair. The hair provided a bit of padding, but not much, and it had a tendency to cause a horrible itching and prickling sensation with even the tiniest movement.

  I only glanced at the clock another few hundred times before deciding it was close enough to six-o-clock that I could begin. For the next forty-eight hours, Claire was mine to do with as I pleased. I took a deep breath and activated the cameras.

  “Ok, wench,” I called out, twirling an inflatable gag by its bulb. “It’s time to play a real game.”

  She strode over to accept the gag in a manner most definitely not submissive, although she opened wide and accepted the bladder without any last minute comments. I buckled it tight but only gave it a few pumps for now, wanting to get her on the pyramid ASAP.

  The sides were dotted with holes so pegs could be placed to allow for some support and to make climbing aboard easier, but I didn’t plan on leaving them in place for long. As soon as I had cuffs on her ankles I pulled them out and stretched her feet down the sides with heavy rubber straps.

  Sticking with the same theme, I used a rubber armbinder next and connected it to one of the ceiling winches with another rubber cord. She’d have enough give in the stretchy material to move a little, but only enough to make her predicament worse.

  I gave the gag another three pumps until I saw her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk, and then one more for good measure. The reinforced rubber posture collar was next, and tied off to the floor in front of her with another rubber cord, pulling her forward and adding more strain to her arms.