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Author's Note: I posted this on FetLife for someone special, but got no feedback. Maybe story lovers here be more receptive.

Chapter 1

Susan had spent an hour getting ready and 30 minutes driving cross-town to his house. It had snowed two days earlier and there were still patches in the shadows. It was cold, so her long puffy coat and knee-high snow boots seemed perfectly normal to passers-by, but she saw few of those on this late Saturday afternoon. What she wore underneath would raise eyebrows.< Tight Pantyhose. Tighter Bondage!

She rang the bell precisely at 5pm. He opened the door and welcomed her into the front hall. She dropped her gym bag and he took her coat. As she was stepping out of her boots she caught her own reflection in the full-length mirror and was mesmerized. She saw a stunning figure in a black underbust latex corset with garters and matching latex stockings. The corset pulled her waist down from 24 to 21 inches. The outfit was completed by a black and red latex shrug that covered her arms and neck but left he perfect breasts exposed. From her nipples dangled silver rings that glistened in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window.

The front hall included a large, walk-in coat closet where he had fashioned a makeshift vanity for her use. He opened the door and hung he coat inside. "Give me five or ten minutes", she said as she dragged her boots and bag into the closet.

As he walked away, she closed the door behind her and sat down at the vanity. Checking her makeup, it had remained flawless on her drive over. Too bad it would not still be that way in a couple of hours... Her latex was thoroughly shined, at least everywhere she could see. The only step remaining were her other pair of boots. From her gym bag she pulled a pair ankle-length ballet boots with 7 inch heels. These forced her toes into an en pointe position. After securing the boots onto her feet, she stepped back into the front hall to await his inspection. She was a little unsteady in the ballet boots, but practice over the past few months had given her a confidence she did not have the first few times she wore them. As she waited she tried to keep her gaze lowered as she had been taught, but couldn't help sneaking another peak at her reflection. How could seeing herself dressed this way make her so horny?

He returned and began to examine her closely. He too, liked what saw. "I see you have replaced your nipple jewelry."

"Yes sir. I went to my piercer today. She said they had completely healed, so I had her replace the barbells with rings"

He examined the rings more closely. "They appear seamless."

"Yes sir. I had her solder them closed. I do not intend on removing them, ever."

"Really?"

"Yes sir. Well actually, they could be cut easily enough with wire cutters, but I consider them permanent except for a medical emergency... unless you would prefer something different, that is."

"No. These are perfect. Keep your head down as you have been taught. Now turn around, I'm going to tighten your corset."

Although Susan always did her best to get as tight as possible, she never could seem to get the last inch. He carefully untied the laces and made quick work pulling them tighter. Susan could feel the increase in the corset's embrace and it only seemed to heighten her feeling of submissive horniness. While most latex corsets are not intended for tight lacing, this one was double thickness material with 20 spring steel bones. It held up quite well. "Now for the restraints." He stepped into the closet and returned with a collar, four cuffs, and a belt. All were matching chromed steel with integrated locks and rings. He locked each device around her neck, wrists, ankles, and waist. Each was a perfect fit, since they had been custom-made for her. However, the belt would not have fit without removing that extra inch. "Turn back around."

Susan did as commanded. This was the point in each of her previous visits that he a carefully taped a protective covering over her still-healing nipple piercings. Even though he had suggested she get them, her never used them during play, known that would increase the healing time. She had not been so gentle over the past few months. The piercings had made her nipples so much more sensitive and she loved to tweak them. All afternoon she had been playing with her new rings and tonight he would too. Instead of tape he showed her two 4 ounce weights and then clipped each to one of her rings. The feeling of the weight was delicious, but they forced her normally perky breasts to droop significantly. Finally, clipped a leash to the ring on her collar and led her further into the house.

This was the ritual of preparation they had followed on each of her previous visits, since he showed her what he expected on her first one. Her initial outfits had simply been lingerie and high heels that she owned. The cuffs and collar had been leather. Over time he bought her outfits that better matched his fetishes and started her on the road to corseting. She now wore a corset to work and all day except for while sleeping. Somehow, she expected that would be the next change to her body he suggested.

As he led her to the stairs to the basement, Susan kept her head down, but could tell that the sun had already set on this cold winter day. In her ballet boots she towered over him. She must be about the same height without them. Her she was, dressed for a hardcore sex movie, being led through the house by a man dressed in a black tee shirt, black leather jeans, and bedroom slippers. Bedroom slippers! What was she doing here again? Why did she keep coming back? He was divorced, no physical specimen, and over twice her age - definitely not someone she could plan a future with. She had a great education, and a well-paying job at an investment firm. Her supermodel looks, fiery red hair, and fiery Celtic spirit had brought her all the attention from men she could ever ask for. She had had dozens of boyfriends and sexual partners throughout college, but none made her feel the way he did. Hell, they had never even had sex, but that wasn't what he wanted. Maybe that's what made him different.

He carefully guided her down the stairs, understanding the difficulty with the boots. The first time she had worn them a few months ago she had stumbled, and nearly fallen. She was wearing an armbinder at the time. He caught her and carried her down. Realizing his mistake, he had never bound her arms while in ballet boots going down the stairs since. She could probably handle it now. Maybe he would try again on her next visit.

As they reached the bottom, Susan could hear the crackling of a fire burning in the fireplace. At least she wouldn't be cold in her skimpy latex.

Calling this room a basement is a bit misleading. While it technically was a basement from the front, the house was built on a slope and the basement opened to the back yard. It was basically one main large room, done-up as a man-cave. On the back wall is a large stone fireplace in the center, with a door leading outside on it's left. To the left of the door is his office/computer area in the left corner. To the right of the fireplace is big-screen TV, with the comfy leather sectional sofa facing it. In far right corner is a door into the garage. There are four door on the wall that faces the front of the house. The stairs come down in the center left. Far left leads into the laundry and storage room on one side. In the main room there is a large bar with kitchenette between the garage door and the laundry room. The center right door leads to a bathroom, and the far right door behind the office area opens into another large room that he originally designed to be a practice room for his band. Two of the walls face dirt. Another wall faces the laundry room and the last has the door into the main room. After plenty of complaints from neighbors when he lived in other places he made sure this was completed soundproofed so they could practice anytime they wanted, but now the band equipment is all packed away in a spare bedroom. This room is not used for that anymore. Now it's used for Susan.

The room is now decorated in dungeon chic. The wallpaper has a faux-stone block pattern. There are multiple ceiling-mounted tracklights, each illuminating a different piece a furniture. As he led her into her room, he flipped on all the lights and Susan could see everything was still here. There was a standing cage, a St. George's cross, suspension gear, a leather-covered horse/bench, and a gyno chair. Hung from one rack on the wall was every sort of flogger, crop, cane, and paddle imaginable. Another held a variety of gags. Let another was full of harnesses and leather restraints.

Finally, against one wall was a comfy leather chair. That was his.

"Number 17, what is your safeword?"

That's what he called her. He knew her name was Susan, but at their first meeting he told her she had no name while here she would be called only by number. Here number was 17. Were there really 16 others before her? She couldn't really imagine. Maybe he just picked a number he liked...

"Sir, my safeword is 'redhead'."

"Ah yes. Just like you.... And while gagged?"

Susan made a short but complex rhythm of grunts. On her third visit, the first time he used a gag on her, he had made her practice for over an hour, receiving a stroke from the crop each time she got it wrong. It was now burned into her brain.

"And to slow down?"

"Sir, my slow down word is 'yellowbelly'."

Typical safewords 'red' and 'yellow', but with extra syllables to endure proper use in the height of passion.

"Now, up the bench!" Susan straddled the bench with her hands and knees on the padded shelves on each side. He clipped each of her four cuff onto rings at the four corners and her collar to a chain attached to the front end. He made sure her breasts hung to each side of the center support, with the weights pulling her nipples straight down. She was quickly secured and immobilized.

"Let's get you warmed up."

He grabbed two multi-tailed floggers and began to strike her ass, thighs, and back in a methodical and rhythmic figure-eight pattern. The sound was like a horse gallop. The strokes were not hard enough to individually cause pain - more like a hard massage - but over time her skin became pink and sensitive. After about five minutes her stopped. He struck her ass hard with his bare hand leaving behind a bright red handprint.

"Thank you sir!", Susan responded as she had been taught.

As he was putting on a pair of blue nitrile examination gloves, he said, "Now let's warm up your insides... Ass up!" Grabbing a bottle of Astroglide, he gently touched her sex for the first time. His fingers slid into her wet pussy and then pulled on each of her three piercings there. On each labial lip was a silver ring that matched her nipples. She also sported a matching ring in her triangle piercing of her clit hood.

"I see you swapped these out as well."

"Yes sir, I wanted them to be permanent as well."

He applied the lubricant to his fingers and to her vagina and then gently slid her finger in. First one, then two, then three, and finally four fingers. He then did the same thing to her ass stopping as three fingers. After she was thoroughly lubed and lightly stretched, he removed his gloves and through them away. No cross contamination here. UTIs are always unwanted.

Next pushed a steel cart behind her and locked the wheels. On it was the magic machine - a double-headed fucking machine with a piston and dildo for each orifice. He adjusted the angles and location on each to ensure best contact with his subject. Then he turned the machine on low, slowing pushing each dildo in and out. After he made sure everything was positioned and moving correctly he added the last touch, another four ounce weight hung from

Susan's clit ring.

Stepping away from the bench, he sat in his favorite chair and picked-up a large remote control. From it he could control almost everything in the room. First, he switched off all the lights except for the spots on Susan's position. Then he activated the magic machine. It started slowly and gradually increased speed. Every few minutes it automatically changed speed or pattern. Within five minutes Susan was moaning uncontrollably. At nine minutes she had her first orgasm. At 30 minutes he applied more lubricant to the dildos. At 60 minutes he stopped the machine to let her rest and add to her predicament.

"I think you're warm now... Time to make you sweat."

He pulled out the leads connecting to two TENS controllers. The first unit is connected to her nipple rings. The second unit is connected to her genital rings as well adhesive electrodes on her inner thighs. Two other units were already connected to the bipolar electrodes built into the dildos. After applying more lube and restarting the machine, he returned to his chair.

He activated the four TENS units Actually these were technically electrotherapy controllers, capable of providing a wide range of outputs by varying voltage, amperage, frequency, and waveform. They do not have the typical limitations of standard TENS units and could easily be used for intense, deadly electrotorture. The only limitations are in the programming, which he controlled himself. He was thorough and programmed so to prevent any lasting harm one of his cherished subjects. It could, however, make them feel like hundreds of burning needles were being repeatedly plunged into the muscles between any two electrodes. While below the waist, almost anything was fair game. Above the waist more care is required to ensure no interference with the heart's electrical signals. It could still be used to provide both pleasant waves of muscle stimulation and certain levels of pain.

Within a couple of minutes Susan was moaning again. All of the electrical stimulation so far had been pleasing and only added to the sensations from the rapidly moving dildos. Within a few more minutes, the next wave of orgasm hit her and he pressed a red button on the remote. That fired pain-inducing profiles on all four units. Susan screamed like she was dying.

He stopped everything, stood, and walked over to her. "That's way too loud." He grabbed a trainer gag, placed the ball in her mouth and tightened all the straps. No more screaming... Returning to his seat he reactivated the controls and the fucking/frying machine started again.

He let it run for two whole hours. She must have had 20 orgasms and 20 punishing shocks. She was completely fried. Her makeup was ruined, just as she had expected.

He turned off the machine and pulled it out of the way. He carefully wiped her ass and cunt clean, kissing her pussy lips as he finished. As hard as the machine had been, he was just as gentle. He removed the gag and squirted water into her mouth from a sport bottle.

"Thank you sir!", was the first phrase she uttered.

He unclipped her restraints from the bench, picked her up, and placed her in his chair. He unlocked her restraints and helped her remove the ballet boots.

"You did well this evening, number 17. I am pleased. Go, get comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon."

Susan ran to the bathroom and peed. She found her bag waiting there. She stripped from her latex and took a long hot shower. He had all of her favorite shampoos and body washes waiting for her. She dried in a big, fluffy Turkish cotton towel and combed her long red hair. She dressed in her favorite soft yoga pants and tee shirt. And bedroom slippers... Bedroom slippers!

She emerged into the big room to the smell of spaghetti sauce. He was at the computer in his "office" reviewing the recordings of her session. He shut the system down and his gaze shifted to her. He stood and walked over and grabbed her hand. Her pulled her toward the bar, seated her on a stool, and walked behind. Onto her plate he placed a heaping pile of spaghetti, followed by his personal recipe sauce. It had perfect marinara, tons of beef, mushrooms, and was crazy spicy. It also had some spice she had never had in spaghetti sauce - cinnamon maybe? He pulled a salad from the refrigerator and opened a bottle of chianti. He poured each of them a glass and then fixed his plate and salad.

They ate quietly. Maybe it was the age difference. Nothing in common... Maybe he was shy. Maybe she was spent. After they were finished, he took away the dishes and pulled her onto the big leather couch.

"Movie or music?"

"Movie", Susan replied. "Something old, you know, like from the 80s."

"How about from the 40s?" He started To Have an Have Not. They watched all the way through and she giggled at Lauren Bacall's exit boogie walk at the end.

"How could I like something in black and white?"

"It's not the color. It's the actor and the writing. Maybe we'll watch The Thin Man the next time you're around. How are you feeling?"

"Sir, my pussy and ass are sore. The pain you inflicted was delicious. I fear it, and love it. I got exactly what I wanted tonight."

"I'm glad you're happy. Another movie?"

"No sir, music this time. Something you like."

"OK - Van Morrison."

"Didn't they do Panama? My parents loved that song."

"No that was Van Halen. While David Lee Roth was great in the 80s, George Ivan Morrison, OBE. Has been around a bit longer and as weathered the years somewhat better."

He played three albums: Moondance, Van's second and best 'pop' album - everyone knows the songs; Hard Nose the Highway - his personal favorite from 1974; and Astral Weeks - Van's first personal album, a jazz masterpiece.

"Those are not at all like today's music. They seem way more unique and original. Is that how music was when you were young?"

"Yes, my dear. Maybe next time I'll play you some Pink Floyd. Are you ready for bed here, or do you want to drive home?"

"Sir, I'm too comfortable to drive. Can I stay here?"

"Of course, you can, your bedroom is ready."

Susan brushed her teeth and went to bed in the downstairs bedroom. He went upstairs to his own. When she awoke at 7am on Sunday, he was gone - away on unknown tasks. She got up and left for home.

His rules were simple. She called and scheduled a visit within a week of a visit. She followed the rules and got the pleasure/pain she wanted. He got recordings of their session. Would she be back? Of course she would.

Chapter 2

It was 6:15pm on a relatively mild January Friday evening. Susan had been driving for 45 minutes and had ended up here without thinking.

She got out of her car and went to the front steps. She rang the bell and waited. After nearly 5 minutes she was about to walk away when the front lights came on and the door opened. He escorted her in and closed the door. “Number 17, you’re not scheduled for this evening.”

He closely inspected his visitor’s appearance. That was always one of his kinks. Unlike her last visit, Susan was dressed for work. That still did not disappoint him. She wore a tailored navy blue suit with a crisp white blouse. It was clearly fitted to match the corset she undoubtedly wore beneath. The navy pencil skirt ended just above her knee. Below she wore nude stockings and navy platform pumps with 4 inch heels.

“I know, but I really need to talk … about work … to someone I really trust. As I was driving around trying to clear my head and then I was here. Sir, if you’re busy, I can go.”

“I do have another visitor I’ll need to check on periodically, but I always have time for you as well. Come downstairs.” She followed him down to his man-cave and accepted a seat on the couch. “Would you like a glass of wine.”

“That would be perfect, sir.” As her returned with only a glass for her, she thanked him. “Aren’t you having a glass, too.

“Not yet, my dear. Now make yourself comfortable and I’ll return in a few minutes to talk.” As he walked into the play room, she snuck a glance trying to catch the scene with his other visitor, but was unsuccessful. As her imagination ran wild, she found her thoughts leaving her problem and wishing she was here to play.

He returned a few minutes later still insuring that the privacy of both his guests were maintained, separately. “OK, I’m back to talk. Tell me what’s going on.”

Susan recounted the story of what had happened this afternoon. Steven, one of her peers, a male account manager scheduled a late day meeting with her alone. He claimed to had found discrepancies with one of her accounts showing tens of thousands missing. He said he didn’t care if she was padding her pockets, but there was a price for his silence – he knew she was “a crazy kinky whore.” He said that he expected to submit to him as long as he wished or he would let the boss know the money and “out” her for her lifestyle. Susan’s anger seethed… He had given her a deadline of Saturday noon for an answer.

“We’ll that’s pretty serious. Did you do what he said?”

“Of course not, sir. I love my job and get paid plenty already. What should do? I was planning to discuss it with Mr. Goldman, our CEO, and see if he could find out who really made those transactions… But, Steve will probably ‘out’ me anyway. I couldn’t stand it if my bosses thought less of me for that.”

“You might be surprised… Well, at least I think I can help with the first problem. Let me make a call. George is still your CIO right?”

“Yes, but why?”

“Give me the name or account number for your client. I have a few connections… And you, number 17, I know you didn’t come to play tonight. Interested?”

“But you already have someone…”

“That’s OK. I talked to her earlier. She’s interested.”

“I’ve never been in a scene with another girl. You won’t make me do anything I…”

“You have your safewords. Remember what they’re for. Go make yourself presentable…”

Susan rushed upstairs to her makeshift dressing room. She removed her suit and blouse, leaving her lingerie: a cream colored silk brocade corset, with matching bra, panties, and garter belt. Nude stockings were attached to the six garters. She started to head back downstairs, but thought better of it and stopped to remove her bra and panties. That exposed her pierced nipples and genitals. The steel restraints she normally used were not in the closet, so she walked downstairs.

As she got there she found him hanging up the phone. “George is going to have the night shift run a few special reports. By the way, you look beautiful. I wish I worked in your office. Now come…”

As they walked into the playroom, the spotlights were focused on a large leather ottoman, 5 feet long and two feet wide. On the ottoman was a figure dressed head-to-toe in black latex: a catsuit, corset, sensory-depravation hood, and ballet boots. Its arms were in a latex monoglove that was laced very tightly. Pump bulbs exited from the general areas of its mouth, ass, and genitals. And finally, it was forced into a very strict hogtie, with head and heels separated by only two feet.

“Wow!” was all Susan could say.

He walked Susan over to wall and clipped her hands into cuffs mounted high above. It forced Susan onto he tiptoes, still able to support her weight with her feat, but even with her high heels, they could not tough the floor. He added a spotlight to her and then approached the hogtied figure.

First he loosened the strap holding the hogtie. It moaned and twisted as it was able to straighten. He then released the pump gag and removed the hood. For the first time Susan could see that this was a girl, with sandy-blond hair.

“Sir, I really have to pee. Please, may I go to the bathroom?”

“OK. Let me finish releasing you.”

He undid the straps on the monoglove and then unzipped her crotch, deflating and removing the matching blow-up dildoes. She then ran to the bathroom as quickly as the ballet boots would allow. She returned in a couple of minutes looking very relieved. “I’m sorry sir!”

“Next time, you’re getting a catheter.”

She turned her attention to Susan for the first time. She walked over toward her gently licking her lips. Susan couldn’t tell she was still getting over the gag, or … something else?

“Number 17, meet number 13. Number 13, this is number 17.”

Number 13, or Heather as she was called in real life, was in her mid 30s. While she did not have Susan’s tall, slim physique or model-like features; she was cute and cuddly and obviously VERY flexible. At about 5’4” tall and corseted down to 27”, her 38” breasts gave her a curvy hourglass figure none the less. Now standing tall on 8” ballet heels she was eye-level with Susan. Walking over she kissed Susan long and hard. “I like boys AND girls”.

“Number 13, Number 17 has had a very difficult day today and has asked to join us to help her relax. Would you kindly provider her with some stimulation?”

“Of course sir, anything you want of me, I am yours.” Heather selected a Hitachi vibrator from one of the racks and returned to Susan. She plugged it in, tested to make sure it was working, and then stared directly into Susan’s eyes. “You’re going to love this…”

First Heather bent down and sucked on each of Susan’s nipples – kissing, biting, sucking, gently pulling on her rings. With a hand she twisted the other nipple’s ring until Susan moaned. Then she switch to the other nipple, doing the same. Next Heather squatted until she was eye-level with Susan’s crotch and began kissing her pussy. She moved her tongue in, out, and around spending extra time pulling on the rings with her tongue. As she found Susan’s triangle piercing to be extremely sensitive, she turned on the vibrator and pressed it against the ring, trapping the ring between the vibrator and Susan’s clit. With just a couple of minutes, Susan was panting loudly and humping the vibrator. “How … are you … doing that ?”

“It seems like with that ring this vibrator has a direct connection to your soul.” Two minutes later Susan came. Long. Hard. Wet. Heather turned off the vibrator and returned to gently lapping her pussy. With a few minutes Susan’s breathing returned to normal and she sighed ever so slightly.

“OK, number 13, give her one more and then I’ll reward you.”

Heather turned the vibrator back on and went back to the hard press. Over the next few minutes Susan began moaning and then panting. Her eyes met Heather’s looking up from below. They stared at each other intensely, piercing into each other’s soul. Susan expressive gratitude for the pleasure, Heather sealing the pleasure from just the look… Suddenly Susan came again.

Susan hung in her chains, seemingly spent. Heather returned with the vibrator to the ottoman she was bound on previously and awaited her chance. As he stood and began to walk towards Heather, a small voice came from Susan, “Sir, pretty please, may I return the favor?”

Instead of walking to Heather, he went to Susan and began to release her wrists. He steadied her and helped her stand up, but she took two steps toward Heather and fell to the floor clumsily. He was about to rush to pick her up, but she began crawling the rest of the way. She stopped at Heather’s feet, but then pushed in between her legs and began forcing Heather’s knees apart. As she unzipped Heather’s crotch as wide as it would go, she noticed the tattoo on Heather’s hairless Mons: “13”.

For the first time in her life, Susan licked another woman’s pussy. The taste was not what she expected. It was musky, but she could tell Heather was very clean, almost perfumed. She tried her best to repeat what Heather and done to her. Then she grabbed the vibrator, turned it on, and placed it against Heather’s clit. She alternated speeds and positions taking notice of Heather’s reactions. In the tight latex, sweat began to pour from Heather’s body. Her hair, already tousled from the hood was now slicked to her head. Her head shook from side to side and then with a low guttural scream she came.

Just like Heather had done to her Susan returned to licking. The taste had changed a little – much saltier from the sweat, but it was maybe slightly sweeter, too. Susan returned to the vibrator and Heather responded much more quickly than before. She ground against it like she was riding it. As she was approaching climax, she looked down to Susan and found her staring as before. They repeated their previous ritual of staring deeply through the come and recovery. Susan then stood and kissed Heather passionately. For a few seconds, everything else flew away. It was only the two of them: “13 and 17”.

“OK you two, what have I done?”

The two women immediately returned to the present. In unison, they both feel to their knees, heads down, in front of him, and both said, almost in unison “Thank you, sir!”

“You’re both welcome, but all I did was facilitate. Now get cleaned up and I’ll fix some dinner.”

Heather began to strip. The leather cuffs on her ankles were not locked, nor was the leather collar on her neck. It took a few minutes to remove the ballet boots and even longer for the corset and catsuit, but eventually she stood complete naked except for one thing – a round steel collar locked around her neck.

Normally this was where Susan changed into comfy clothes, but she had failed to bring them on this trip. She puzzled what to do. She couldn’t very well put her suit back on. Well, maybe bra and panties. Heather had left the playroom for the bathroom and the shower was now running. Susan was sure she would return in something comfortable but after a few minutes she walked out hair in a towel still wearing nothing but her collar. That left Susan thinking – she could if Number 13 could. So she took off the rest of her clothes, took a quick shower herself, and returned wet hair in towel, but otherwise completely naked.

He and Heather were already sitting at the bar eating meatloaf, asparagus, and mashed potatoes, drinking a wonderful pinot noir. As she arrived, he said “Number 17, I know you didn’t bring your comfy clothes this trip, but you don’t need to stay naked. I’m sure I have something you’d like to wear.”

“No sir, I’m a big girl, and … I … couldn’t let her take … all your attention.”

“That’s an interesting development… Well let me fix you a plate and a glass.” He first poured and handed her a glass of wine and then fixed her plate. “Gravy?”

“Yes please, on both the meatloaf and potatoes, sir.”

He returned to his seat and she sat beside him to the left, as number 13 was already on his right. They all returned to eating and as usual, things seemed quiet. She was always surprised by how shy and reserved he seemed. Susan decided to break the ice. “Number 13, I really like your collar. How did you get it?”

“About 6 months or so ago… is that right, sir? I decided that I wanted to come out as a sub. I was finally comfortable about my kinks and wanted to show that I wasn’t afraid for others to know it. To anyone who knows this life, it’s a clear indication that I am owned and protected by a loving dom. To anyone else, well locking jewelry has been all the rage lately.”

“Could you just unlock it yourself if you needed to?”

“No, that’s not the point.” “Sir, I mean, do you still even have the key?”

“Over course I do, little one. I wouldn’t want to ruin a perfectly good collar if you need a medical procedure someday.”

They returned to eating and Heather decided to speak up, “Number 17, I really like your piercings. I’ve never had the courage to get some of my own. How long have you had them? How long did they take to heal?”

“You with the big tattoo, afraid of the pain? That’s crazy, bet they hurt half as much as your tattoos.”

“Well I’d already had a couple of others. I knew what to expect.”

“I got them all about a year ago in two different sessions. Genitals first, then the nipples. The genitals were thoroughly healed in about 6 months. The nipples took a full year. I finally got the OK to play with a few weeks ago. That’s when I changed out to matching jewelry and permanently soldered closed.”

“Wow, that’s hot! Maybe I’ll rethink piercing.”

After they finished eating, he offered more wine and to adjourn to the comfy couch. Heather piped-up, “I’m very sorry sir, but I have an early shift tomorrow and need to head home now. I’ll take a raincheck.” She then sauntered off to get dressed. She returned dressed in jeans, a black tee shirt with a flannel shirt over it and Doc Martins. A nineties child if there every was. Kissing Susan on the cheek she said, “I’d really like to see YOU again. Maybe we can synchronize our schedules?”

As Heather left, Susan replied a slightly startled, “OK, maybe…”

Susan did take another glass of wine and they watched The Thin Man. Who knew a movie from 80 years ago could be so funny?

About 10 minutes from the end, the phone rang. He paused the movie and answered, recognizing the CallerID. “You found it! Great! Send me the report and I’ll show it to her.”

“Sir, what did he find?”

“Good News! Let’s finish the movie first.” They did. Afterward they moved over to his desk and he pulled up a chair with her. “Look at these logs. They show your account was used to make the transactions at 7pm on Saturday night, three weeks ago. Wasn’t your account locked-out on Monday?”

“Yes, sir it was, but how does that help?”

“The logs also show that the login did not come from your desk. It came from Steve’s and the PC was logged-into the AD domain with his credentials including the two-factor authentication.”

“But sir, he’ll just say I stole his PC.”

“Well I’m certain your didn’t do it and can vouch for you…”

“Why, sir?”

“Because you were locked to a bench in that room at exactly the time this happened.”

“Oh, that night?”

“Yes, and they have his badge swipes and video footage of him coming in and out. He’s just a complete idiot.”

“Sir, he’ll still out me even if we can disprove the embezzling. I’m going to learn from 13. I’m not going to be afraid. Do you have another collar like hers?”

“Not exactly, that was custom-made, but I have something that will be close enough.” He found a chrome steel collar with a locking clasp in back and a small ring in front. It was slightly larger than her neck, but this was OK, he’d get her one like 13’s later.

“Sir, would you be willing to collar me? Forever?”

“I will collar you. Follow me.” They walked in to the playroom and stood in from of the ottoman she had played on earlier. “Kneel here.” She knelt on the ottoman and waited as he fastened and lock the collar around her neck.

“Sir, I accept your collar and your right of ownership of me. I will remain your faithful slave forever.”

“NO, little one. You are no one’s slave. I will accept your continued submission, you may consider yourself owned by me as long as you like. However, I cannot give you a future that I expect you will want. I cannot give you marriage, or children, or a regular day-to-day relationship. When you find the right person to take ownership away from me, I will give it freely.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“OK then, you need to get ready for tomorrow. Call Steven from your cell. Tell him to meet you at the office tomorrow at noon.”

Five minutes later she was done and the trapped was laid.

Ten minutes later she was dressed in slightly large sweat pants, tee shirt, hoody, and the snow boots she’d left behind three weeks ago. Her other clothes were in a plastic bag.

“Remember, dress for success tomorrow. I’ll you at ten after noon.”

“Yes sir, I will. See you then.”

Susan work up early on Saturday morning. She had breakfast and coffee and took her time showering, doing her hair and makeup, and getting dressed. She chose a fitted business suit that had a skirt so short she’d never actually been able to wear at work. She started with a sheer white silk blouse, showing deep cleavage and perfectly framing her collar. She wore no bra. Her nipple rings could be clearly seen through the blouse. Above the blouse she wore a black silk corset with gold brocade. Today, she wore panties matching the corset. Her black seemed stockings were attached to garters from the corset. She chose her tallest black pumps. Her black skirt barely covered the tops of her stockings. Her matching black jacket pulled the outfit together and covered her nipple rings, but left her corset and tiny waist clearly visible.

Her red hair was up in a tight bun. This made her collar stand out even more. Fortunately, today was cold, so a long winter overcoat and scarf were not out of place.

Susan drove to the office and went inside. She swiped in and nodded to the weekend security guard. She took the elevator to the 11th floor and went to her office. Removing her coat and scarf, she double-checked her hair and makeup. She was actually going to do this…

Susan practically strutted like she was on a catwalk down the hall to the conference room. She arrived precisely at noon. Of course, Steven didn’t arrive on time. He was ten minutes late.

Steven couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d never seen anything like her. He knew she was sexy but hell… Susan took off her jacket and stood up.

“You are kinky as hell. I see you decided to accept my proposition. I’m going to fuck you now to start you off…”

Steven had already dropped his pants when the door opened. In walked Mr. Goldman and Susan’s owner.

“Robert, thank you so much for these reports. The evidence is quite clear. Steven, get dressed before the FBI arrives, you’re going to be prosecuted.”

“Mr. Goldman, she’s a kinky slut. Look at that collar. How can you employ her?”

“Steven, you’re an idiot. Susan is the best junior analyst and manager at our firm. Completely loyal. What she does on her own time is none of YOUR business.”

“Thank you, Mr. Goldman, but it’s true. I am a lifestyle submissive. You already seem to know my owner. I know it might hurt my career, but I’m not going to be afraid of being myself.”

“Susan, my dear, that won’t hurt your career here. All of our senior management is completely kinky. They are all mostly out with the scene. You’ll fit right in. I myself am right now wearing a collar similar to yours to show my devotion to my mistress and wife of nearly 45 years. Now while you certainly look lovely, please don’t dress quite this way for clients… unless they’re being really difficult. Of course, Robert, here. You couldn’t find a better man, or dom. Always the gentleman. That data security breach last year, we could have lost what, 15 billion?”

“15.6”

“And the FBI grabbed him before he could complete the transfer.”

“Well, George’s team is listening to my advice now, got rid of the bad eggs, and is running a tight ship. Nowadays, I think they’re the best IT team on Wall St.”

Robert? Susan’s owner had always been reserved with names. He seemed to assign a number to each of his subs and only asked them to refer to him as “sir”. So his name was Robert… and he was known and respected by her CEO, who was a lifestyle sub?

Could things GET anymore interesting?

Yes, the FBI heavies showed up to take Steven away.