Old, New, Borrowed, and Blue
Ó 2020 by Bob2300 (deviantart.com.bob2300)
Edited by Dannysuling (deviantart.com/dannysuling)

She woke up with a foggy head, disorientated, with cobwebs clinging to her consciousness. Everything felt off, disjointed, and destabilized. The world felt like it was spinning, and she hadn’t even shifted. She remembered the boring party she had been attending, either a retirement do or a fundraiser. She remembered meeting the host, a few vivid details of the room decorated in silver and purple. Then she was slipping out early, leaving her chaperones behind. She recalled finding a cosy bar and, in vivid flashes, meeting a fascinating woman who seemed so confident, that husky tone to her voice, a wicked devilishly seductive wink in her eye. A woman who seemed to immediately relate to her on a level she had never known before.

Then they were dancing together, pressed so close that she felt her body melt as they wrapped around one another. And she remembered having a cocktail…actually, given the state of her head, perhaps a lot of cocktails…and then the green vodka. Why had her drink been so … fizzy?

Now she was face down on a big fluffy pillow, in a crisp springy bed. She tried to roll over, but something didn’t feel right. She tried to put her right arm out, to brace herself against the mattress to help her roll over, but to her surprise her arm didn’t move. Her shoulders felt sore and numb. She couldn’t seem to shift her body by simply willing it to roll over. Still hazy, this sensation of her body confused her. Her arms felt numb…had she been lying on them? They felt weird as she tried to flex them. There was something over her arms…were the sheets wrapped around them? Was it her jacket, halfway down her arms?

She tried to move her arms again but they didn’t budge. She couldn’t even twitch her fingers. It was a little worrying, actually. They were locked firmly together from fingertip to elbow. There was pressure on her shoulders and apparently she was not going to be able to separate them with any force she could generate.

Then someone came over to see her. She felt a firm but feminine hand on her shoulder and suddenly she was rolled over onto her back. The light was rather too bright, but her brain began to process her surroundings. She frantically began to think, recalling events in greater detail. She found she was wearing just a bra and panties, with whatever it was behind her wrapped tightly around her arms.

There in front of her was the same redhead from last night, standing over her. She was dressed in her underwear as well, but she also had on silky stockings and garters. The sleepy woman looked up and blinked, still trying to get a handle on what exactly had happened to her and where she was. There might be an innocent explanation as to why she seemed to be tied up in her underwear, next to a sexy redhead who was wearing as little clothing but no restraints.

“What did I drink last night?” she managed to ask through a foggy haze. It was more of a muted croak, since her throat was a little dry.

The answer was not exactly to her liking, as the redhead replied in a calm, authoritative tone, “An institutional sedative, something that they use in insane asylums to keep patients amenable and manageable. It made you nice and compliant, honeypot.”

The blonde woman on the bed pulled at her arms again, but they were just as tightly secured behind her back. She noticed that, with her current position and her shoulders wrenched back tightly, she felt more exposed, more helpless. She looked around, expecting a camera crew and some sort of crude prank. Or something else more ridiculous and more sophisticated, but still importantly a prank. She observed she was in a hotel room, a posh one. In fact, now she had a chance to properly look at the room, it was her very own hotel room! But there were someone else’s cases lying on the dresser. It looked like the redhead had practically moved in. Oh, the cheek of this woman! The blonde blinked again, but still no camera crew jumped out of the bathroom. No tasteless comedian emerged from the dresser to hold a microphone under her nose and tell her it was a joke.

She had a bit of difficult moving in the restraint, but with a bit of wiggling over the sheets the young woman scooted backwards across the bed to rest up against the head board. She felt a little dizzy from this sudden movement—probably the residue of all those cocktails, or more likely that drug still in her system. She looked around the room and noted that the door was firmly locked from the inside. If she did try to escape, she would have no chance, really. That was, if she could even stand up. She felt nervous, and prayed once more, silently, that this was some sort of trick or joke. Then she spoke, trying to sound brave and jovial.

“You’re joking…I thought it was vodka. Do you know who I am?” Perhaps her name or her family name could get her out of trouble—though in all likelihood it was the reason that she was in trouble in the first place, the reason why she had arrived at her current predicament, trussed up like a turkey.

The redheaded woman bent down and patted her on the side of the cheek. As if she had done something cute, or silly, yet adorable. “You’re Alicia Alvestes, poor little rich girl. Trust-fund orphan and heir to the Alvestes Industries and Finance Empire.”

Alicia pulled against the arm bindings again. This garnered a creak of leather, but no freedom. She hoped that by some obscure miracle this angle might actually give her a better opportunity to try escaping whatever it was that wrapped around her arms. However, the binding didn’t shift by any perceivable amount. She suddenly recalled that these hotels rooms were pretty much soundproof, to give guests privacy. Built into the walls was as much insulation as a sound studio. She could play music loudly, perform a tap dance, and it wouldn’t bother the people next door. And if she began screaming her head off it would accomplish nothing other than irritate her captor.

She looked at the door to the room, and remembered that there had been a little sign hanging on the inside of the door that said “Do Not Disturb.” Well, it wasn’t there any longer. She concluded that it was now hanging on the knob outside the room, so there was no chance of some maid or housecleaner wandering in and inadvertently proving to be her salvation. That was quite frustrating, but at this point not an earth-shattering surprise. Her captor seemed quite confident, probably because she had every reason to be confident.

Alicia felt a sense of resignation as she looked up at her redheaded captor. Into her deep brown eyes, around her soft inviting lips, admiring her shapely figure. She blushed when it became clear that her warden was aware of being ‘checked out’. Alicia tried to adopt a brave face and try to ascertain exactly what was going on.

“Why am I tied up? Are you kidnapping me? Are you going to ransom me?”

She was at this point expecting to be told she would be held captive as a hostage for a couple of weeks. A small amount of her fortune would be liquidated on her behalf, and she would then be a free woman again. She’d receive a day-long lecture from her lawyers and trust-fund managers about her rash behaviour. And then from that day forward a significantly larger security detachment would be standing two steps behind her at all times.

The answer she actually received, however, made her jaw drop. In the most serious tone, the redhead provided the most contrary and unbelievable suggestion. “No don’t be silly, we are going to get married today.”

Alicia sat there, bound and helpless on the bed, stunned. Her kidnapper placed her index finger on the captive’s chin and gave her a gentle nudge to make her close her mouth. She tapped Alicia on the tip of her nose, then bent down and gently kissed her on the forehead. Alicia was lost for words, and she felt her cheeks going red. Here was a woman who ticked pretty much all of her boxes. Standing there casually, dominating her totally without needing to do more than tap her on the nose. There had not been a threat or hint of violence, and yet she sat there shocked into silence. The idea of being held by this confident redhead as a prisoner…as a bride!...was perversely almost irresistible. She found herself breathing a little too fast, some of it shock, some disbelief, and some—she glanced away from her lovely warden at that moment—was a hint of desire.

Alicia’s voice held a tremor as she tried to argue against the absurd notion that her kidnapper was presenting. “But I don’t want to get married to you.”

She tried to state it as a fact, to keep any hint of weakness out of her voice. But she failed, and her speech faltered when it came to the idea of marriage. Her kidnapper responded by looking down at her like she was being childish and silly. She walked away from the bed and checked on a few pieces of important-looking forms, but she didn’t immediately reply for a few more seconds. Then she casually walked back to the bound heiress.

The redhead moved her gently with a nudge in order to sit on the side of the bed next to her captive. She maintained the same dominating, calm tone, firm with no hint of anger in it. She tapped the binder behind Alicia. “Can you get out of that monoglove?”

Alicia hung her head for a moment. She could feel her fingers held immobile, wrapped tightly in what she guessed was leather, the tight sheath holding her limbs pinioned behind her. She could now feel the extra-snug straps at her wrist and elbows, as well as the rest of the restraint. She strained once more to free herself, but of course she couldn’t shift it at all. There was amusement in her captor’s eyes. The woman used a single finger under Alicia’s chin to make her look up. The bound woman looked her into her captor’s eyes, then lowered her own gaze, blushing again. 

“No, it’s so tight. I can’t shift it,” Alicia replied in a whisper. She was not getting out of the restraint that the redhead had expertly put her in. She was not going to go anywhere that the kidnapper didn’t want her to go. She was not going to do anything that the kidnapper didn’t want her to do. Her chances of resisting in any meaningful way were about as likely as somehow being able to summon superhuman strength and breaking free from the binder encasing her arms. It was quite frustrating, but there was nothing that she could do about it.

The redhead adjusted her position so that she was fully seated next to Alicia, then cuddled her in a grip that was half-loving and half-firm, a security that the captive couldn’t get away from. Tight and firm and irresistible, much like the rest of the woman herself! She whispered in Alicia’s ear, “Then you’re definitely marring me today, honeypot. Then we get to go off on a nice romantic, secure, remote honeymoon.”

Alicia could see clearly now that her present circumstance was going to involve secure bondage. Her future, too, had a high probability of bondage, with a long-term forecast of more secure bondage. She would either learn to like it or not, but one way or another she would have to learn to live with it. And the way the redhead presented it, there was no other option. No point where she would be able to wriggle off the hook and get away.

Not that every part of her wanted to escape…especially from having a dominant redheaded beauty firmly cuddling her helpless body.

She tugged at her binder. “But…I don’t want to.”

What she wanted, though, didn’t really seem to matter in her current situation. What was going to happen was whatever her kidnapper wanted to happen. At the very least, Alicia hadn’t been threatened or injured. She was just bound securely in her own hotel suite. Anyone meeting the two of them might think she was a rich, eccentric thrill-seeker, and that the two of them were a kinky lesbian couple—that there was something racy but not illegal going on. The redhead was damn smart or very daring, or both, as far as Alicia was concerned. Acknowledging that fact inflamed her body a little bit more, as the woman cradled her like a valuable prize. Alicia’s nipples pressed against the insides of her bra cups, she squirmed against the silky material between her legs, and bit the top of her lip.

The scarlet dominant continued to hug her prisoner tightly, squeezing her head between her breasts. “Shush, honeypot. You need someone to manage you and your money. I’m just doing you a favour, really. Now you’re going to relax and behave like a good girl. We need to get our relationship off on the right foot.”

Alicia considered herself a bisexual. She had dated men and women rich and talented, sometimes both. However, for some reason she was now leaning closely to curvy, assertive, redheaded women. It felt somehow comforting, maternal, to be cradled in this way. To have her world enveloped in a tight embrace of warm feminine flesh…well…she could sit there and nuzzle away all day.

She looked up at her jailer and nervously asked, “Who are you?”

The woman smiled and gently, then rolled Alicia off her lap and back onto the bed. She stood up and walked over to the paperwork on the table, pulling four items out of the pile. There was a glass of water and a couple of tablets on the side. Her jailer dropped the tablets into the glass of water and started to stir it. She tapped a few droplets off the spoon and set it down. Then, picking up the glass of water in one hand and the papers in the other, she sauntered back over to Alicia and sat down next to her on the bed.

She had a broad smile on her face as she held up the glass to Alicia, who thought about clamping her lips shut or trying to knock the glass out of her hand, or even drinking it but then spitting it back in her captor’s face. Those thoughts ran through her head for a split second. The captor looked back at her with a knowing look, a look that said ‘Life will be as comfortable as you want to make it’.

Alicia pouted, then opened her mouth and she swallowed the glass of water. It tasted bitter and chemical. When she had finished, she was patted on the head like a good little girl. The tablets in the glass seemed to act quickly, clearing away the rest of the cobwebs. Alicia suddenly felt a lot better, with less of a hangover. Her captor put the empty glass down, then reached out as if she was going to shake Alicia’s hand.

“Janet Jackal—or, rather, Miss Janet Janell, con-woman and trickster extraordinaire. You may refer to me as your ‘better half’ or ‘Mistress’ after today, honeypot.”

On instinct Alicia tried to shake her hand, in response, only to tug futilely at the binder behind her. The beautiful redhead showed Alicia the various documents, including a wedding license that Alicia had apparently signed. Janet seemed to be a very good forger, because Alicia couldn’t tell the difference between her own signature and the one on the paper. The only clue that she hadn’t signed it herself while she was drugged was the tight binder encasing her arms.

With a certain amount of pride, Janet showed her the next immaculately forged document, something that really looked like Alicia had signed. It was an enduring power of attorney that gave every aspect of her finances and property to her captor’s control! There was a second power of attorney that effectively made Alicia a ward under Janet’s control, with absolutely no legal rights to decide anything for herself on any matter whatsoever. The signature had also apparently been forged.

The last piece of paperwork was the worst, though. There was some sort of doctor’s assessment, signed by many eminent authorities, that authorized Janet to be Alicia’s legal custodian, and that she had to be kept restrained for her own well-being, due to a court order. As part of a thorough but fictional psychiatric assessment, Alicia had been deemed incapable of self-care. Thankfully, her partner was going to look after her even if it required some harsh treatment—for her own good, of course.

Alicia looked at the papers and felt a knot in her stomach. This all looked very real. She had seen a lot of very official papers over the years, and these looked very solid and convincing. She was not sure how much scrutiny they would hold up to, but seeing the confidence in the redhead’s eyes made her think it would be quite a lot. Alicia sagged forwards, her head bowed, provoking an uncomfortable twinge from the binder.

She twisted her shoulders. “Aagh…! What’s this thing on my arms made of, anyway?”

Janet put the papers down and resumed hugging and cuddling her captive as though she were consoling her. “The single sleeve is designed to keep naughty little girls like you in check. This one was very expensive. It’s top of the line, form-fitted white leather. It is going to look absolutely gorgeous with your wedding dress. It has a foam insert between your arms to help protect your joints, and a separate compartment for both your hands. In the end of the sleeve it has a nice padded built-in layer to protect your delicate little fingers. Yet it’s so tight you can’t even move them, right?”

Alicia pulled at the armbinder, and found again that it was just as tight and unforgiving as before. She had to admit defeat. It was pretty much her only option at this point. “Yes, I can’t move them at all,” she conceded.

Janet reached over onto the bedside table and retrieved a pack of tissues, then gently wiped around Alicia’s eyes where she had been on the verge of starting to sob. It was a lot for a bride to be to going through, Alicia thought, feeling sorry for herself. After all, she hadn’t just been hobbled physically but legally as well. She couldn’t cash in a single share of stock, book a room, or even hire a bike under her own name. If she did somehow escape the hotel room and somehow got out of her restraints, then went to the authorities, there was a good chance that they would actually simply return her to Janet’s care, muzzled and trussed up like a parcel. It was a terrifying thought, that the institutions of society she had once considered were there to protect her had been turned against her, and were now tools for her captor to use to ensure her cooperation and perpetual confinement.

Janet’s hands moved down Alicia’s sides, over the indentation of her waist, and the captive heard herself moan, sure that she was blushing. Her guardian’s hand moved to massaging her arms through the binder.

“Good, very good. I filled it up with a rubber poly-cement to stop any little chance of you escaping. And then of course I laced it up really tight. You’re very flexible, honeypot, so I was able to get your elbows to meet on the second try. There is a flap that goes over the laces, and a panel that zips up over it so it looks lovely, nice and neat. There are Kevlar-lined reinforcing straps at your wrists, elbows, biceps, and shoulders, and more straps that cross over your shoulders and under your arms. Those are really snug, aren’t they? All the straps are broad and padded. You might think the binder is completely stiff, but actually it has a little elasticity to it. And with the chemicals in the leather, and softener too, over the next couple of days it will shrink a bit. But I’m confident you’re going to get used to it, all nice and snug.”

As she talked about each feature of the binder she ran her hands over the item. The young blonde woman encased within it found the touch to be exquisite, if not the prospect that it would slowly shrink around her arms even tighter than it currently was.

Alicia was focused on Janet’s voice, on the soft touch of her fingertips. She could feel her heart beating in her chest. She had experimented with a little mild bondage in the past, with rope and scarfs and the like. Some of it was fun, and some a bit silly, really, when she looked back on it. But this binder made all the silly bits of string seem irrelevant. She had never considered submitting to any really confining bondage. And now…well…she had no option about it. At least if she learned to tolerate or enjoy it, her future would be more comfortable and bearable. 

“Well, it is tight,” she conceded, “but it’s also snug and comfortable.”

One of Janet’s stocking-encased legs wrapped around Alicia’s body and pulled her close. Janet was squeezing her as she cradled Alicia’s breasts from behind. Held tightly, the captive found herself moaning again as Janet gently kissed the side of her head while squeezing and kneading her breasts through her bra. Even if her arms had been free she doubted that she would have been able to break out of this embrace. And even if she had been free, she doubted that she would want to be! A moment later, Janet’s right hand disappeared between Alicia’s legs, teasing and rubbing her scrap of underwear against her body.

“Yes, only the best for you, honeypot. You notice these high-security nickel locks. Turn a bit, look in the mirror like a good girl…see?” Janet’s fingers were pressing Alicia’s underwear tightly against her swollen labia. The captive wondered idly if there had been some aphrodisiac included in the contents of the glass she had just swallowed? Janet had already drugged her into submission once. Was she going to keep feeding her drugs to keep her a happy and compliant little slave girl? Was that part of what the future had in store for her. along with the other restraints?

Would she really object if a few little pills made her life easier, Alicia considered, as her body was reacting to those teasing fingers? She felt surer now that there had been a dose of aphrodisiac mixed in with her drink. She was certainly feeling hot and flushed, as those fingers played with her body through the thin material of her panties. They rubbed over her sensitive nubbin, over every intimate little bump and crevice between her legs. She didn’t realise it for a moment, but she was moaning unashamedly.

Alicia tried to focus, and turned slowly to look in the mirror. She twisted around until she could just see what her captor was talking about. She was rewarded with a good long look at the creamy white leather that the armbinder was made of. It did look almost like it had been oiled to a sheen. She noted the tight, secure straps, and the way the device hugged her limbs and accentuated her figure. The little padlocks did almost look like jewellery.

She turned back to Janet and bit her lower lip, then looked up and met her captor’s deep confident eyes. “Yes, it looks quite lovely, and I look quite subdued. You’re never letting me out, are you?”

The thought of getting out of her bondage anytime soon was quickly evaporating. It looked like the only way would be when Janet decided to release her from the armbinder. But Janet didn’t look like she had any intention of reducing her captive’s bondage one bit. In fact, the aroused Alicia was starting to get the feeling that it was only the beginning of what promised to be a long-term bondage adventure. She imagined her captor wrapping her in layer after layer of physical restraints, as thoroughly as she had gone about rendering her legally helpless.

Janet smiled down at her and caressed the side of her cheek. “What, and give you the chance to misbehave?” she replied. “Don’t be silly, honeypot. You’re going to stay locked in that through the entire wedding ceremony, through our honeymoon, and well into your married life. Isn’t it fabulous?”

Alicia was indeed getting the message loud and clear. She was going to have to accept the arm bondage for the foreseeable future, which meant she was going to have to rely on Janet for everything. The woman was going to have to bathe her, feed her, even help her to use the ‘little girls’ room. It was humiliating and debasing. But there was also a part of her that wanted to be taken care of, wanted to be pampered and looked after. Who wouldn’t quite mind having to submit to another person?

Alicia was fast becoming a very red-faced damsel, as she tried to figure out exactly how distressed she would be, held in Janet’s firm and commanding grip. Hot, flustered, and blushing, she felt Janet pushing up against her back, and Alicia squirmed against her bonds. She tried to come to terms with what her future held in store for her. She was almost complaining, almost whining, but there was hardly any force of will behind it. “It’s so tight, so dominating. I can’t resist in any way, it’s so perfectly tight!” she exclaimed. She couldn’t resist as Janet’s foot rubbed up against her leg, which felt really very good. As did Janet kissing her on the side of her neck, her captor’s exposed, erect nipples pressing against Alicia’s back. Janet’s hand continued to slowly work away between the bound girl’s legs.

Alicia’s fingers tried to pull at the binder again, but they were stuck, like a fly in amber, a fence-post set in cement. Janet’s own fingers followed the curve of her prisoner’s body between her legs, and found the cleft of her buttocks. The exploring fingers moved a little further, the tips working their way around the fabric above her rosebud. Alicia gasped and squirmed helplessly, held in her captor’s embrace. She felt a flush of embarrassment and turned a deeper crimson shade of red.

Finally, Janet sensed she had run out of time playing with her prize. She had to get on with all the other business of the day. Her bound captive, on the other hand, looked incredibly disappointed that she wasn’t planning to continue, and Janet admitted to herself that it was tempting to keep toying with the poor little heiress’ bound body. She smiled at her charge, and was delighted that there seemed to be an understanding between the two of them.

“That’s the point,” she replied to the blonde still cradled in her arms, whose vagina was soaking now inside the flimsy panties. “It makes you a nice submissive little bride. Now, for the rest of your outfit.”

Alicia was resigned to her fate now. She was utterly helpless, without Janet utterly dependent. She wouldn’t dare resist what she knew was coming next—another restraint, followed by another, until she was a nicely packaged bundle ready to hop, or crawl, or be wheeled down the aisle to the altar.

What Alicia expected of the ceremony to come was a quick “I do” on her behalf, and then the two of them would disappear. She would be whisked away to some remote location that she would never be able to escape from. Her strict mistress would have to keep her bound and would play with her at whim—stroke her and make sure that she was a well-behaved bride, eager to please her loving, dominating partner. Alicia almost imagined that if her hands were free she would not be trying to escape, but instead would merely sit and try to pleasure herself.

Janet rummaged around in the nearby boxes, then found what she was seeking and removed the next part of Alicia’s wedding outfit. She was going to make it special; she was going to make it something marvellous. She was also going to make sure that Alicia didn’t have the slightest opportunity to act up at all. She held up the next item and moved over to poor helpless Alicia.

“This demi-corset is going to be a bit tight,” she admitted, “but it’s going to do wonders for your figure, and it will support those lovely tits of yours.”

The garment looked formidable. It was designed to lace down very tightly and it looked very severe and rigid. Yes, there would be support, but also a measure of crushing domination. It was already laced at the back, and it just needed to be slipped over her waist and pulled shut.

Janet looked at Alicia and considered the job of forcing the half-corset open and over the girl’s hips from below. She started to loosen the laces at the back of the contraption quite a lot, so that there would be no trouble getting it in place. Then she held up the piece and slowly turned it around in front of Alicia. It did look gorgeous, more creamy leather and satin. It would be mercilessly tight, but it would look gorgeous.

“It does look really racy and sexy,” Alicia conceded, “but I won’t ever fit in that!” She was quite certain that her future mistress and current captor had made a miscalculation with the corset. It was far too small to fit around her form, and likely wouldn’t even slide up her hips. The lacing would be formidable, but it just couldn’t possibly fit. 

Janet took a second look at Alicia’s waist and then eyed the corset. Yes, it would be a tight fit. There would be a bit of a struggle, but she would have to loosen the laces a bit more; but not much more or the laces would pull all the way out of their grommets. Then she would have a devil of a time rethreading them to get the garment to shut properly. She bent down in front of Alicia and made sure that the corset was pulled as far apart as it would go. Her voice was calm, smooth, and commanding, as she instructed, “Shush, now, honeypot. It’s time to lace you up. You just need to step into it so I can pull it up.”

Alicia put one foot into the circle of steel boning and lace. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, put the other foot in place, and then got up off the bed. Janet immediately began to move the corset up over her legs, aiming for her waist. The corset quickly sailed past Alicia’s knees, reached her thighs…and then decided it liked that place well enough. There was a surge of strength from Janet, and a grunt of effort. Alicia felt that she was almost being lifted off her toes. She tried to reach out with her arms to stabilise herself, but unfortunately they were not available, cocooned as they were in the armbinder. Janet put a hand on her shoulder, and Alicia felt a sense of relief that she would not be planting herself face-first into the thick pile carpet. The demi-corset was now around her hips, gripping her waist, extending from the quarter-cup support under her breasts to just above her hips.

Alicia realized that the garment had not yet been laced shut one millimetre, but already she could feel it tightly embracing her body, the springy steel inserts trying to bend her pliant flesh. Part of her wanted to feel what it would be like to be mercilessly crushed in the corset’s authoritarian embrace. Part of her wanted to never see the clinging thing again. Janet wiggled it backwards and forwards until the position was a bit more comfortable.

Alicia looked nervous. “It’s really tight!”

With a firm hand Janet made her pretty little doll turn around so that she could get to work on the lacing. Without even thinking about it, Alicia contorted her body, shifting her secured arms away so that Janet had access to the laces. The redheaded beauty fumbled with the ends, which had barely an inch or two left of them on each side. After a few tugs, however, more of the laces emerged, and the tiniest bit of slack began to disappear from the garment. For the moment, the two sides of the corset might as well have had a chasm between them. But Janet gripped the available laces, tugged up and down and side to side, and managed to get some movement. She held both ends of the laces in one hand with grim determination, as she plucked the rest of the lacing like a harp to transfer the pressure evenly throughout the garment.

Alicia was almost panting from the compression at her waist. Janet, too, was grunting with the effort involved in tugging on the laces to get them closer and closer together. Agonizingly slowly, it began to look like a slightly less impossible goal to get the corset all the way closed. But Janet knew that if for one moment she let the laces go, if she let the pressure off, the garment would open up all the way back again. She squeezed her fists tightly shut. There was a pop from her whitening knuckles, and she gave the corset another firm pull.

“Yes, honeypot, but it makes you look so good. Now just wiggle a bit…there we go. I just need to lace you up all the way.”

Alicia found herself actively helping her captor bind her tighter and tighter. Admittedly, a fancy corset custom-made from a fetish and lingerie shop was not the usual method of pacifying an abducted damsel. But it was certainly doing wonders to make her more helpless. She could feel every contraction of the corset as her captor pulled at the laces again and again. She looked at herself in the mirror and had to blink twice—the effect was rather exciting! Her body looked fantastic. However, there were obvious downsides. Her ribs felt like they were being crushed with unyielding force. The luxury of being able to take a full breath of air was now denied her as well. She began objecting as Janet neared the end of her efforts, dealing with the last couple of inches or so of lacing.

“Do you have to? It’s pushing in on my diaphragm, and it’s hard to breath.”

There was a responding “Tut-tut” and a grunt from Janet as she pulled on the laces. It had become a strain for Alicia to hold her bound arms out of the way, but she had maintained the position—not struggling, not trying to escape the corset’s embrace, but still rather affected by the constriction. There was only three-quarters of an inch remaining of the gap in back, and Alicia was now feeling a little light-headed. Janet gave another mighty tug, and now there was only half-an-inch to go.

Alicia felt more than heard something in her spine pop into place that she hadn’t even realised was out of position. The force from the corset seemed to have corrected it. There was another pull on the laces from Janet, and Alicia gasped as she found she could only take a smaller breath into her lungs. The corset was down to just a quarter-inch gap. Then, with one final swift, stern tug, it was all the way shut! Before Alicia even realised it was done Janet was tightly knotting the laces.

It was going to take a while for Alicia to get used to the confining garment. She blinked away the spots in front of her eyes and tried to breathe, and the black edges of her vision slowly faded. She had barely realised that she had been starting to black out. Meanwhile, Janet wound the cords up, then shoved the ends of the laces into a pocket on the side of the corset.

“Oh, yes!” Janet exclaimed happily. “Now it’s fully laced up. I got it from the same place as the single-sleeve binder. See how this flap goes over the laces? Now it’ll be quite hard to get at them. But there is more, still. This little steel plate goes over the panel, and the lock tucks away nice and neat. The slim-line oval case of the lock helps.”

Alicia had a good look in the mirror, twisting her head and her body around as far as they would go. The laces were all covered up, and her body was held in a firm, unyielding embrace that she would never be free from. And in truth on some level it was something that she didn’t want to be free from. The locking plate looked elegant but still very secure. She would not be getting out of either the binder or the corset. She felt her heart beat, her breasts heave, and a flush of heat through her body. At this point she was actually anticipating being alone with Janet, when the restrictive items would be removed and she would be hugged and kissed….

Alicia shook her head. What the hell was wrong with her?! She was so distracted. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen.

Alicia turned back to Janet, “Oh, okay…I have…never had a tighter…waist…. And it does…look really good, but how…long do I have to…wear this…?”

She observed her predicament in the mirror, thinking that she looked like some old film star with a waist that was impossibly thin. She looked very sexy. The corset and the armbinder combined gave her a very rigid posture, making her body stand out and her assets stand up! She was lost in a daze. It would take a bit of time to get used to being this tightly restricted. Alicia felt like there was a fifty-pound weight pressing down on her chest. The corset was also very supportive, making her breasts appear to be a size or two larger. Certainly, they were more prominently thrust forward. She was going to have to learn to enjoy a light-headed, dizzy feeling and a shortness of breath. Of course, Janet seemed to be have that effect on her without the corset, but…well…it wasn’t like she had any option to argue about it.

Janet retrieved another box from the pile of packaged accessories. She removed a jar and a rubber glove and spent a bit of time applying something diligently to the item in her hand. Then she approached Alicia, who was still looking at the gorgeous corset.

“Best you get used to it, now. I’m going to have to keep you tied up nice and tight most of the time. And since I don’t want you having any little accidents, I’m going to put you in these.”

She held up a piece of white rubber. Alicia’s face went red once again as she saw exactly what she was being presented with. The full implications of what it meant to be kept bound twenty-four hours a day suddenly sunk in. She would only be allowed to relieve herself when her mistress decided she could! Alicia was going to be controlled much more thoroughly than she dreamed possible.

Having a tight corset crushing one’s body also did a very thorough job of crushing one’s bladder, and suddenly Alicia was looking very worried and feeling very full. The mere suggestion seemed to have triggered her desire to empty herself. Janet, knowingly, gently guided her to the bathroom, pulled her knickers down, and let her attend to the suddenly urgent matter. The bidet was the next point of call. But after carefully and calmly wiping her clean, Janet didn’t return Alicia’s knickers. Alicia looked back at the garment with a bit of trepidation.

“You’re going t-to put me in rubber knickers! And they have a plug in them!”

Janet walked over and retrieved the item, then gave her a nudge. “Stop fussing and turn round. Now, just relax. I put some lubricant on it.”

Sheepishly Alicia stepped into the rubber garment that was held out for her. She didn’t resist as the tight rubber was pulled up her legs and began to stretch over her thighs. She knew she didn’t really have an option but to accept it. She would be a good co-operative little slave girl and make her mistress proud. She would behave and do what she was told. Then the tip of the plug touched her sphincter and she blushed even more deeply. She gritted her teeth and winced as a little more pressure was applied, trying to relax and not to clench. She bent forwards and tried to wiggle to help the plug home in to its inevitable destination.

The pressure kept building. Alicia was panting against the tight clinch of the corset, and she pulled on her armbinder in frustration. She pleaded with her mistress, “It’s…too big! It won’t fit!”

Janet took things slowly and gently, but she was firm. As the tip of the plug began to bore between her buttocks, Alicia’s stretching muscle gave up its resistance. There was a sudden flush of heat as Janet rubbed Alicia between her legs, then kissed her on the side of her neck. Then suddenly, without any warning at all, something else unexpected was brought into play. A very narrow tube, also slickly lubricated, was sliding into Alicia’s urethra! Her bladder was being stoppered with a sealed lubricated tube! She would not be able to exert any freedom at all over her bodily functions. Not that she really wanted to wet herself on her wedding day.

Janet stroked Alicia’s body, whispering that everything would be okay. “Just relax, give in, submit. Good girl, honeypot.”

She slid the anal plug and the rubber garment all the way into place. Next she reached through between Alicia’s legs, pressed firmly and, with one smooth manoeuvre, ran her hand front to back, pushing the rubber panty up against Alicia’s moist loins. The plug shifted inside Alicia’s rectum, pressing against the walls of her canal. Alicia’s mouth was open and she was moaning at the sensation of tight rubber over her hot inflamed flesh. Janet reached around and kissed her wife-to-be passionately, slipping one arm around her and cradling her. She gave Alicia a tap on the ass, right on the base of her butt-plug. There was an adorable gasp from her prisoner, and Janet couldn’t help giving her anther long, passionate kiss.

Of course, Janet hadn’t finished dressing her bride yet. She retrieved two boxes from the set of packages and opened one. It contained a short belt of some sort. Inside the second was a scarf—or was it a pair of tights? Alicia was not sure. She watched with interest, wondering what would be the next addition to her outfit.

Janet threw the short belt on the bed. “Now sit on the bed! I’m going to put these lovely white silk stockings on you.”

Alicia appreciated having Janet take care of her. It was a strange paradoxical mix of wants, desires, and surrender to an inevitable higher authority, as she slowly began to move to the bed. It was a little bit harder to walk in the corset. It was a lot harder to walk with the plug jiggling about inside her as she moved. She blushed again as the plug made its presence felt, filling and tormenting her, making her feel the rubber that was tightly moulded to her body, hugging her between her taut buttocks and the span of her pussy lips. Her flesh was squeezed against the tight rubber with each tiny movement. Alicia found herself walking strangely, almost like a waddle, as she got used to the intruder. She was nervous about the unfamiliar sensations.

“Okay, give me a second,” she pleaded. “It’s hard to move plugged like this…it feels odd.”

She managed to take the last step as if she were moving normally. The presence of the plug held deep inside her body was far more noticeable, however. She realised that she was panting —and not just because of the tight corset. She was still trying to decide whether the plug was an unholy abomination that should be expunged from creation with fire, or if it were a devilishly tantalizing toy that she was going to enjoy as it moved about inside her. Stimulating her erotically with every step and twist of her bound body, the rubber invader squeezed between the round bouncing cheeks of her ass.

Slowly, gracefully, sensuously Janet applied the stockings. Alicia didn’t mind in the slightest if her mistress—her captor—was going to spend a bit of time encasing her legs in hosiery. The firm yet fair touch of this dominating redhead sent tingles over her skin. And her husky voice aroused her as she instructed Alicia on how to behave.

“The stockings clip onto the bottom of your demi-corset. The corset also has this belt that goes from front to back, between your lovely thighs. It makes your rubber panties and that little plug just a bit snugger.”

Alicia felt herself blush seemingly from head to toe,. This new strap at her crotch was too much! She could feel the pressure on the plug. on her vulva…on all her sensitive regions. The propulsion of the rubber sliding over her flesh was an exotic feeling. At the same time, the strap was not anywhere near enough to deliver the firm authoritarian sensation that she now craved. For that, the discipline needed to be a bit tighter, a bit harsher.

Janet listened to Alicia’s words but looked into the bound girl’s eyes. Sometimes a slave’s mouth said one thing but her eyes hinted at something else, the body, spirit, and soul crying out a special need. Alicia looked flushed, and she was gasping. “That’s too tight,” she complained. “I can barely concentrate on anything now, with that strap between my legs.” But in truth her body wanted that strap to be tighter, cleaving the rubber between her wanton, desperate flesh. Her voice was indeed saying one thing one thing, denied by the language of her body. There was no conviction to those words, no fundamental truth within them. Janet could easily see that Alicia’s eyes, the windows to her soul, begged for something else, for the action of a far stricter hand.

Long ago a friend of Janet’s had taught her how to read people in this way. And right now she knew what to do for her precious honeypot. She cradled Alicia’s face in her hands as the bride-to-be looked down, not meeting her mistress’ eyes. Janet was confident of her conclusions. “You want it tighter, don’t you? I can see how you are blushing.”

Alicia found herself wiggling about on the bed. The plug was teasing her, and the strap was teasing her so badly. She needed more, she craved more, she desired more. But, oh, was she embarrassed to beg her kidnapper, her warden, to bind her even more tightly! To enable her to gain pleasure from her strict restraint. Alicia’s head lowered and her voice dropped to a murmur.

“Okay…yes, I do,” she conceded. Her mistress kissed her on the side of the head, then made sure that the strap was so tight that the rubber panties were practically part of her sex, that the invasive plug was jammed so tight between Alicia’s buttocks that every mild twitch or gyration set her body aflame with desire and wanton, humiliating lust.

Her mistress cradled her for a brief precious moment longer, then went to retrieve more favours to wrap her slave-girl’s helpless body in. “Good girl. Now, I have these five-and-a-half-inch heels, with these nice little ankle straps and nickel locks.”

Alicia looked at the shoes, which appeared as impractical as they were sexy. She could imagine taking about three steps in those shoes before she would catch her ankle and twist it, ending up in a cast. Or simply trip over her own feet and land face down on the plush carpet in the hotel room. She owned a lot of very fancy shoes that she had put on once, taken off, and cast into the depths of her cupboard from whence they would never reappear. These were different, and she was given no option but to accept them. She imagined that she would be practically an invalid, with her mistress having to support her every inch of the way, if she wore such shoes. Her mistress inches away from her at all times, directing how she moved cradling her body…she could live with that.

Alicia sat down on the bed and held out her feet, receiving her mistress’ next generous gift. Her feet bent and arched, and suddenly she felt a foot taller, a little bolder, a little naughtier—and yet a little more vulnerable. She watched the straps buckled up tight, she saw the little locks installed. It was not her place to object, nor to decide. She was but a lowly, horny slave girl. But still felt she had to voice a certain apprehension.

“They look really cute, but I can barely walk in three-inch heels as it is.”

Janet put an arm under the armbinder and gave Alicia a gentle lift. Suddenly the captive found she was standing in the shoes with no immediate issues yet, despite their height.

“Oh, honeypot,” Janet replied, “I put gel pads in the toes and on the inside of the heel. You will be able to wear them for hours. Aren’t I a generous mistress?”

Then, somehow, Alicia was actually moving in the shoes, and she wasn’t planting her face into the carpet, either. But then these were really expensive shoes, made to be comfortable to walk in. She guessed she should be able to wear them and make good progress. Besides, she had a new incentive that she had not had before: to please her mistress, to make her proud. That was more important now.

Janet directed her around and Alicia walked where her mistress pointed, backwards and forwards. The gel pads made her feet feel supported, and she relaxed. She could do this.

While the padlocks on her ankle-straps were an important part of the aesthetic of the white heels, they were also making her blush. She was still embarrassed by her predicament. The mere thought of what was happening to her body made her squirm, tremble, and flush. “Wow,” she exclaimed, “they actually don’t feel too bad, but I kind of rattle when I walk.” She extended one ankle and waved it around so that the tiny little padlock bounced about in its fitting. 

Janet found that gesture quite cute, hugged her, and patted Alicia on the head. The woman was strong and calm and reassuring. And then she immediately she reached for yet another accessory that would restrict and restrain poor little Alicia’s body, even if at this point Alicia were quite on board.

“Oh, believe me, honeypot, soon that will be the last thing you will worry about. See, these ankle-cuffs have a glass-smooth finish on the lining. You’re going to be wearing them for quite some time.”

Alicia quickly glanced at the cuffs, estimated the length of chain between them, and stood stock still, her ankles exactly that far apart, ready to accept this next addition to her dominating bondage. Once the cuffs were on she looked to her mistress for a nod of approval. What she got back was an expression that said her mistress believed that she could do it, that there was no doubt in Janet’s mind that her precious little honeypot could walk in those sexy heels, even with her ankles shackled together in a very tight, very limited range of movement. Alicia took a couple of steps and she did not fall over, she was not rubbing her ankles raw, she was not on the ground in tears having disgraced her mistress’s domination, and she was not letting the chain hit the floor. Yet she was pretty sure that at this point the average snail, even if it had two shots of tequila, would still be able to move faster than she could. 

Her mistress seemed to like the way Alicia’s bottom wiggled when her stride was reduced by these cuffs. That, at least, made Alicia blush with pleasure. Still, she complained, “This is impossible! I can’t walk in these cuffs. It’s barely a shuffle!”

Janet seemed to think that Alicia’s problems were all in her head. She dismissed her objections out of hand, while she went to retrieve the next piece of Alicia’s bondage accoutrement. “Yes you can,” she encouraged her captive bride. “You’re just not used to it. Roll your hips; focus on each movement…. There you go, honeypot! Nice and sexy and secure. Now,” she added with a lustful glance, “just to make you look a bit more classy, I’ve acquired this calf-length rubber hobble-skirt. It’s going to limit your stride a lot more, but it’s going to give you such a sexy wiggle.”

Alicia had to admit that, with a bit of direction from her mistress, she was not doing a terrible job of moving about in the heels, even if it took more than a bit of effort and left her panting. But this was without the added tightness of any hobble skirt. She looked at the gorgeously tight rubber garment she would be wearing, then looked back at her mistress for permission to talk. Receiving the faintest of acknowledgement, she spoke. “Shouldn’t I have put that on first, before the heels?” As far as she was concerned, she should have gotten used to having her stride restricted by the hobble skirt, or the cuffs, or both, before she put on the sexy high-heels and had to try walking under the effect of both encumberments and height.

Janet treated her apprehension as a silly notion. The redhead projected an air of confidence that was both confidence in herself and confidence that anything she asked Alicia to do she would be able to do. It felt odd to Alicia to have the assurance that she was up to the task prescribed by her mistress, and yet it made her feel warm inside.

Janet patted the corner of the bed, then replied gently and patiently. “Nonsense! Just sit on the bed. I simply need to roll it inside out, then pull it up your legs, add a bit of pulling, and, well, there it’ll be, holding your long, lovely legs so tight and snug!” It was an easy matter for her to roll the hobble skirt inside out. The garment was stretchy, and Alicia found it was not too difficult to slip her legs inside. Her captor easily tugged the skirt up to knee-height. Janet then pulled Alicia to a standing position and started to unroll the wonderfully tight, stretchy material up and over her thighs. She fussed a bit with the waistband of the garment, making sure that it was neatly in place.

Alicia could feel her mistress’s firm hands smoothing over the rubber. It felt wonderful on top of her skin, and Janet was almost purring as she moved around, flattening it down over Alicia’s legs and thighs, chasing away every wrinkle. She finished by giving her captive a little pat on the bottom.

Alicia took a few experimental steps. It was not much worse than wearing the ankle-cuffs. But it was a bit more effort to strain against the tight rubber encasing her legs. The stockings she wore underneath helped. But the strap between her legs was extremely snug and distracting at this point. She looked to her mistress and was given permission to speak.

“I suppose it’s okay, but now when I walk I rattle and I squeak. It’s so embarrassing….”

The pained look on Alicia’s face was accompanied by a suffused blush. She was actually beginning the process of acclimating to the restriction of the demi-corset. Fine! But the rest was a different story. It was all going a bit too fast for her. Still, she knew that at this point it wasn’t as if she had any say in how quickly things progressed. She just had to accept what was imposed upon her.

Janet was standing behind her, holding a finger to her lips. “Shush, honeypot! The white rubber looks so sexy on your ass, and your legs look so good.”

The dominatrix ran her other hand down the side of the rubber garment, then caressed right over Alicia’s rubber-clad crotch. It was the lightest touch, but Alicia’s arousal was so intense, now, and there was the smell of her mistress’ hair, her hot breath on the captive’s face, Janet’s firm caress, her sultry voice. The little slave-girl looked like she was going to boil over on the spot. Her face was fully flushed, her breath rapid. The plug and strap were doing a marvellous job of distracting her from standing up straight. She could feel her knees knocking, her teeth slowly biting her bottom lip. She was almost moaning as she stood there. She realised that if Janet had simply seduced her first, she would have been able to convince her to do this willingly without the need for kidnapping, in a month or so…maybe even less.

Alicia cleared her mind. She liked the compliments about her looks. They made her heart beat faster. But she remembered that she had to think of what her mistress wanted. “Thank you,” she said respectfully. “I do look gorgeous.”

This was Alicia’s big day. A wedding, unexpectedly abrupt in its arrival, but still her big day. Admittedly it was going to be a very small, very private affair. She was going to go along with what her mistress wanted her to do, and so she kept practising walking in the combination of restrictions currently imposed upon her. She was sure that there would be more, but she hoped that they would be more symbolic rather than something else that would further affect her ability to walk. She didn’t want to go down the aisle having to walk as if she were pulling a ten-pound ball-and-chain behind her.

Janet opened up the cabinet and removed a very expensive-looking garment bag, laying it out on the bed and slowly, carefully unzipping it. Alicia saw the garment as it began to emerge—the pure white lace, the lovely gossamer silk, the sexily placed frills and ruffles. And she felt her heart beating faster, her eyes moistening. She was so happy she was almost ready to cry—or else she was developing rapidly advancing Stockholm syndrome, had been drugged, or was it a combination of the two?

“Now for the wedding dress,” Janet announced. “It’s a bit unusual and very expensive to get one made to fit with such confining bondage, but I thought ‘what the hell’?” There was pride in Janet’s voice as she showed it off to the blushing bride-to-be.

Alicia was enamoured both with the dress itself and at the prospect of hobbling down the aisle while wearing it. However, she noted it was enough to draw attention in its own right, enough to make her embarrassed—not just a little bit, but a lot. She was now beginning to imagine what would happen: she would be led through the hotel lobby, where everyone would be looking at her. Everyone in the street outside the hotel would be looking at her, too. Alicia knew she was a bit of an exhibitionist and a party girl, used to showing off, waving the most exclusive watch or a flute of the most expensive champagne. But the dress was making her blush all over again, and when she spoke there was a soupçon of doubt in her voice.

“It does look lovely, but with no arms it makes it look very odd.”

Of course, Janet agreed with that sentiment, but didn’t care. If Alicia behaved as if it didn’t matter following her mistress, then pretty much everyone else would take their cue from her and it would not matter. Nonetheless, she paused for a moment. There appeared to be in her expression a spark of something she had just remembered to do. “Actually,” she announced, “before we go any further I do have another present for you.” She put the dress back down on the bed and began rummaging around in her suitcase until she retrieved a little black case.

Alicia wondered what it would be. A tiara? some sort of elegant necklace? Maybe a corsage or something else to accentuate her dress? She found her curiosity aroused. Then she realised that she was walking in the heels—with the cuffs, and the hobble dress, and the corset, and all the other restrictions, and she was able to do so! She strutted and sauntered over to Janet, feeling very confident—if that was the right word. Alicia was in most ways feeling positive that this was her future from now on. Eagerly she moved to see what new little trinket was going to be added to her costume.

“Oh, what is it?” she asked aloud, eagerness in her voice.

Janet opened up the box and held it up for her. It was lined with blue velvet, and inside there were two objects that might have been really chunky earrings, but they looked too mechanical for that. In fact, to Alicia they had a hint of a sadistic art in their construction. She became cautious, especially because she couldn’t exactly identify what the hell they were. She twisted her head left and right and gave Janet a puzzled expression. Janet merely smiled back at her and emptied the contents of the box into the palm of her hand. She closed the box, and placed it on the nearest piece of furniture.

Janet moved closer, and Alicia took a small step closer to her captor. Janet held out the items, a look of satisfaction on her face—a naughty, knowing look. On her lips was a grin that conveyed all sorts of raunchy promises to Alicia, a lurid twist of the redhead’s immaculately sculpted eyebrow, a flutter of her eyelash.

“These are tumbler-locking nipple clamps, honeypot! They look quite vicious, don’t they? Chrome silver with inlaid rhinestones. They are almost like really heavy jewellery.”

She reached a hand out and gently rolled up the top of Alicia’s bra. The bound girl’s nipples were already quite hard, firm, and ready for stimulation. Alicia imagined the items clamped on her sensitive little buds, and she almost took a step back. She felt a shiver of fear go down her spine as she looked at them. The look of apprehension and doubt on her face was clear, but she looked to her mistress for reassurance. “I don’t really have a say, do I?”

Janet smiled and hugged her close, kissing her on her moist, pouting lips. “No, not really, honeypot. Now, I just need a little bit of stimulation to get your nipples perky, then on they go.”

Janet’s head descended and her lips made contact with Alicia’s exposed nipples. Alicia squired and moaned and threw her head back. She clamped her lips tightly closed and had to concentrate on simply standing in place, on suddenly trembling knees. And then the vicious clamps were suddenly there, latching onto her poor sensitive nipples, and she found herself groaning and gyrating. Janet made them a little bit tighter, and Alicia moaned even more loudly. One more fine adjustment, and it was done.

Janet moved Alicia’s bra back into place and smiled at her. “Now to fit you into your pretty little dress.”

Alicia didn’t really think about what happened next. Her head was in a fog. She remembered stepping into the dress, the garment being pulled up her body. Then it was adjusted: laces and straps and zips were done up at the back and the shoulders. It must have taken time, but she was in a daze and hardly noticed even when her mistress moved her around. She found herself staring into a mirror, looking at her reflection with the dress tightly wrapped around her.

“With all that lace and silk, you look lovely, beautiful…wonderful!”

In the mirror, Alicia admired herself in the dress. Truly, she was breath-taking, but as rigid as an ice sculpture in the tight white prison of her bondage. She very slowly turned in a circle, observing as much of the dress as she could. It was so beautiful she was nearly tearing up. In some respects, it was as impressive as a big multi-layered wedding cake, and with so much complex frosting and decoration, it was also about as mobile. Her legs were held tightly; the dress offered resistance against her every movement!

Alicia could feel herself heating up and blushing even further, as she strained her body against the garment. “This dress is so tight, I can barely move! Though I have to admit I do look damn good!” In truth, she was about ready to boil over on the spot. The more she tried to move the more resistance the dress and other restraints delivered—and the more the nipple clamps, crotch-strap, and anal plug rubbed her exactly the right way.

Janet ran her hands down Alicia’s sides. She could see how turned on the bride-to-be was. “The skirt is effectively an ankle-length hobble, with a bit of reinforcement around the waist. The cape hides your armbinder, so you do look so sexy.”

The redhead was very acutely aware of what might happen if she let her pretty little bride keep squirming about like that. Alicia was like a stick of dynamite set with a slow-burning fuse. And she didn’t want to spoil the day by letting Alicia start the celebrations too early. Perhaps the nipple clamps were a little too much. Still, Janet was not going to back down now. She led Alicia over to the other side of the room, to a dresser where she had a large selection of makeup and other beauty products. As a consummate con artist, she was able to apply makeup and do up her own hair in multiple ways that very quickly completely changed her appearance. Now, she was going to put those skills to a different, more delightful use.

She gently sat her helpless prisoner on a stool. The pretty bound woman cooed and squirmed on the seat. “Now sit still,” Janet cautioned, well aware of how the additional stimulation at her captive’s crotch was having an effect. “I have to do your makeup and hair.” Alicia calmed herself down and sat there while her hair was woven into something amazing, an up-do that had her hair rolled over on itself, a neat, tight, and compact chignon that lifted away from her neck, still very pretty. It was amazing how quickly Janet worked, Alicia thought to herself. But then, part of her living had been derived from subverting people’s expectations rapidly. The authorities were always looking for a woman dressed in a particular way and, by the time they realised that there was no such person in view, Janet would have already walked out the front door, having quickly changed into a different persona.

Alicia looked in the mirror, appreciating her captor’s efforts. “That eye shadow really suits me, and that weave is quite stylish. You’re going to actually go through with this, aren’t you?”

With her hair and makeup finished, the wedding picture was complete, sinking deep into Alicia’s psyche, and any last hint of doubt cracked. This was all completely real! Some part of her had still held onto the notion that this still might be a joke or deception, and that at the last minute there would be some swerve in Janet’s course, that she might back out and rethink things. But no! They were going to go ahead with it today, and within a few hours she would be bound in matrimony, adding to all the other restrictions applied to her.

Janet grabbed a few more boxes and approached Alicia as she was admiring herself in the dresser’s mirror, like a preening peacock. The redhead unpacked one item and displayed it to her blushing bride. “Oh, yes, honeypot, I certainly am—that is, we certainly are. Now for the posture collar. It’s such nice white leather, a bit strict, but you’ll look beautiful.”

It felt very intimate to Alicia when the collar was fastened around her neck. She shifted her head and noted how her hair was already cleverly held out of the way. It was an act of deeper submission to have this significantly controlling collar fitted around her neck. As her mistress’s fingers touched her skin and then firmly tightened the collar, she felt another hot flush, a burst of arousal, bringing her ever closer to an explosion. She blushed again and tried to stop herself from moaning and squirming about.

Next, Janet held up three pairs of freshly-laundered sky-blue skimpy bikini panties. Alicia looked puzzled for a moment, but her captor explained, “Now I have to gag you. It’s necessary, so don’t resist…. Good girl, open wide.” 

Alicia held her jaws wide apart, eagerly expecting the gift of being gagged with her mistress’ undergarments. She didn’t resist or try to avoid the application of the next stage of her accessories. She had surrendered at every other turn without a fight, and thus her course was set as the first pair were gently pushed into the corners of her mouth. She tentatively licked the silken fabric and imagined what it would be like if Janet had decided to use panties that were…well…a little bit ‘fresher’. As she patiently held her mouth open for the second pair, Janet stroked the line of her captive’s jaw. The second pair had to be forcibly crammed into her mouth, behind her teeth, in order to fit.

“These are some of my favourite blue panties,” Janet said, smiling. “I wanted to go with something traditional.” The third pair of panties was firmly pushed into Alicia’s mouth—and that’s when she noticed that there were going to be other gagging paraphernalia as well. Clearly, she was not going to be making the smallest bit of noise during the ceremony.

Janet held up a really large gag, and saw her prisoner flinch and then try to crack her jaw open even wider to accept it, like a good little slave girl should. She held it up for Alicia to view. “This is a white pearl ball gag. Isn’t it lovely? Yes, it’s a bit big, but it’s made from really soft silicone rubber. I need you to be nice and quiet out in public, you understand, so this is necessary. Now, open wider…wider…yes…good girl. Now I’ll just tighten it up a bit more so its snug.”

Once wedged between her teeth, seated in her mouth, the three-and-a-half-inch ball gag compacted the blue panties into every crevice of her oral cavity, and Alicia had to concentrate just to breath. The ball sat deep inside her jaw, behind her teeth, held there by straps that went behind her head and under her chin. She appreciated even more how her hair styling had been designed not to get in the way of the straps.

Alicia watched her mistress ready one final item; actually, she felt a sigh of relief that it was just one extra layer. It looked like something made from thick rubber. Her dominatrix kidnapper also brought over what looked like a hat box. Now, Alicia was thinking that there would be a circlet tiara or some other adornment for her hair, and  she cooed into her immense gag in anticipation.

Janet stroked her hair, “Now I just need to put this panel gag on you. Wouldn’t want you drooling all over your pretty dress on your big day. Good…so nice…and this veil completes the look. Right? You can hardly see anything now, honeypot, and nobody will be able to see behind it.”

Alicia looked through the gossamer fabric of the veil, hung from an ornamented band that was firmly clipped to her hair. It was like looking through a tent. She felt a little relieved that someone would need to get really close to be able to see the huge subjugating gag wedged in her mouth, almost dislocating her jaw.

Janet helped her beautiful captive bride stand up, and made her twirl round on the spot, checking and adjusting every detail, fastidiously tightening her restraints by one degree or another . “Now for the list,” she announced. “Let’s see. Old?... I have those nickel-plated ankle-shackles you’re wearing. New?... Well, your three-and-a-half-inch white pearl ball gag will do; I purchased it this past week. Borrowed?... I borrowed those tumbler-locking nipple clamps from a dominatrix I know, who also gave me a few pointers. And what’s especially nice is that I don’t think she is expecting them back any time soon. And finally, Blue?... Well, I stuffed your mouth with my blue panties before I added that ball gag, so as far as I am concerned that counts.” She grinned down at her helpless captive.

There was a curious muffled moan from behind Alicia’s gagged lips. Curious, Janet moved closer, “Are you protesting, or do you want the gag tighter?” She lifted the veil, and found a deep blush on her bride’s cheeks, a sparkle in her eyes, and a very subdued blonde head that began nodding eagerly. Janet promptly obliged her, tightened the straps on the gag to a truly crushing configuration. Her fingers lingered under Alicia’s chin. “Are you blushing, honeypot? You like this on some level, don’t you, being so helpless, so thoroughly controlled? Now, just sit tight. I have to finish getting myself ready, too.”

Janet set about putting her own outfit on and completing her hair and makeup. She was a master of the quick costume change, so it didn’t seem to take too long at all. When she was finished she stood in front of her prisoner, lifted her bride’s veil, and did a little twirl. “What do you think? I do believe it looks lovely on me. This tailored silk shirt, custom-fit tuxedo jacket, and a very suave bow-tie. And then there’s this waist-belt, sort of like reminiscent of a cummerbund, and this nice, sexy, black, ankle-length number with the side slits. My favourite two-and-a-half-inch stiletto heels complete the package. Perfect, if I do say so!”

If it hadn’t been for her huge gag, Alicia would have been practically be drooling. She felt intense twinges of lust, hot desire, and a feeling of heady arousal. She could feel her blood pumping and the heat in her body, particularly emanating from her vagina and anus. It was a good job that her hands were tightly bound behind her body, or who knew where they would wander!

Janet put her cheek to Alicia, kissing the air, a promise of more intimate moments to come. She lowered the veil and clipped it in place. She had quickly looked deep into her captive’s eyes, knowing that behind the combination of lust and submission there was a tiny little bit of grit, a small small hint of doubt, of resistance, lodged back there so deep it was almost hidden. Janet leaned over and whispered softly into Alicia’s ear.

“You might not believe it completely, honeypot, but you need this. You need it more than anything else in the world. And you always will. Now come closer…good girl. I’ll just link you up to this leash and—voilà! We’re ready to go out. There is a limo waiting, just for you and me.” Janet had her bride on a short leash, literality. Not that her bouncy but heavily restricted bride really seemed to object. Janet made sure every thing was in its place then picked up a stylish little bag containing all the papers, keys, and so on that she needed, and then the two of them left the hotel room.

Janet had timed their departure well; there were few people in the hotel. She locked the door, and the couple headed to the elevator. In the lobby the porters made sure her luggage was ready to go, just as she had arranged. The few people there turned to look at the incredibly gorgeous bride in her hobble dress, but then turned away and resumed their business.

Janet had chosen the site of their wedding well: a big, ornate-looking building that inside was nothing more than a glorified reception office. She was taking advantage of a new technology the city had recently installed, a registration machine that dispensed marriage licenses. All she had to do was present the paperwork to the cameras, which then would take the requisite wedding pictures. That would legitimize the wedding and the marriage, and then her prize would be all hers—and what a scrumptious prize it promised to be!

She slowly walked Alicia up the aisle, then presented the documents to the scanner. “You can’t quite see it, my darling, but we have this automatic register’s office. With the power of attorney I have, I can just say ‘I do’ for you on your behalf, and we are done.”

There was a fanfare of beeps, they posed for a few pictures, and Janet kissed Alicia under the veil on her gagged lips, leaving a red lipstick mark over the white panel. Alicia found it so romantic she melted into Janet’s arms, almost fainting.

Alicia barely felt herself being half-cuddled, half-carried to the waiting limousine they had used to bring them from the hotel to the register’s office. The few bits of Janet’s luggage were already in the car. The newly married couple settled down into the luxurious back seat, as the limo pulled away, off to the cruise ship. The couple would soon be in international waters, a key point for Janet’s scheme, since it made certain important things legal.

The limo’s driver was an older eastern-European man, a complete professional. He didn’t raise an eyebrow or say one word to the oddly-dressed couple. Nor did he pay any attention to the two women cuddling in the back, the loud throaty moaning being muffled by a stifling gag, the insistent buzzing of a toy locked deep inside the bride’s dress. He merely watched the road. After all, he had been selected for his discretion…as well as his expertise.

Janet kissed her new bride. “Now for our honeymoon. The two of us are soon going to be locked in our cabin for most of a nice, slow cruise.”

Janet petted and cuddled Alicia, who was moaning loudly into her gag despite its huge, muffling presence. The bride, of course, was desperate for an entirely different sort of release. She was completely aroused by Janet’s domination of her, and she knew that this situation would not change for the foreseeable future.

“While we are away,” Janet whispered to her conspiratorially, “a contractor I know is converting your little country property into a nice little lovers’ nest. A very secure nest, with high walls and strong locks. And a special little dungeon ready to keep you out of mischief.” She lifted Alicia’s veil. “Now, look at this catalogue, honeypot. All these scrumptious designs for some very restrictive fashions, just for you. We are going to order you an entirely new wardrobe. Your future is so secure with me, honeypot.”

Her hand moved lower and stroked harder. Alicia’s body tensed up, and her heart seemed to explode in her chest. What came from her mouth dearly tested the gag which, despite its layers and intrusive size, was nevertheless found wanting, as the buzzing intruder inside the bound and helpless bride reached a crashing crescendo.

“Mmmpphh!... Mmmpphh!... MMMPPPHHH!!...”

Blonde Alicia, her orgasms chaining one into another without end, melted again into Janet’s strong, waiting arms. Her lover stroked her face and hair, completely satisfied.

“Good girl, honeypot…. Such a good girl….”

End