Well Met

The Halloween Dinner

Belle pulled the mail from her box in the lobby, quickly sorting as she walked. There was the usual junk mail, a couple items for her roommate and a jet black envelope addressed to her. She felt a little flip flop in her chest as she read the return address. It was from Rick and Jill.

As she entered the shared apartment Belle dropped the mail on the sideboard. Christina, her roommate would pick out what she wanted and discard the rest. For Belle, it was more important to slip into her bedroom and read the note from the couple who had so wonderfully and mercilessly tied her up.

Sitting on her bed, Belle tore open the envelope. A cascade of die cut spiders and bats spilled out onto her lap, causing an involuntary shriek. Annoyed with herself Belle brushed off the little creatures before pulling the note from the envelope.

“Dearest Belle,” the note began. “You are cordially invited to a Halloween dinner to be held on Friday, October 18th at 8 PM.” The note finished with, “P.S. come dressed as a lady lawyer.”

A wide smile spread across Belle’s face. Their last dinner together had been a deliciously wicked meet and greet. If this one was anything like that – the very thought sent her heart racing.

The request to ‘come as a lady lawyer’ puzzled her. Was this to be a costume dinner? Belle was tempted to text Jill and press her for details. But she suspected the decidedly vague note was purposeful. Belle decided that she wouldn’t spoil the surprise.

Turning to her closet Belle eyed her outfits. Work was usually a simple blouse and slacks. But she did have a nice suit that she wore to interviews, weddings and funerals. She pulled it from the rack, slipped off her slacks and tried it on.

A navy blue blazer covered her blouse nicely. The blouse would have to be a bit sexier she thought, but that was easily remedied. The skirt was another issue. It was quite conservative, coming just to her knees. Experimentally Belle hiked it up until it was closer to mid thigh. A needle and some thread should correct things. If Belle was going to be a lawyer, she wanted to be a sexy one.

“Did you get it?” Jill asked anxiously.

“Of course I got it,” Rick answered. “Of course they jack their prices this time of year but it’s exactly what you wanted.”

“And Edgar? Is Allan going to let you borrow him?”

“Yes, I’ll pick him up Friday on the way home. Allan said he’d feed him before I got there so he’d behave.”

Jill let out a sigh of relief. Everything was coming together nicely. But no sooner had the thought entered her mind that a new worry surfaced. “The candles! Do you think we have enough candles?”

Rick took his girlfriend in his arms. “Will you relax? It’s going to be the most awesome Halloween dinner ever.” He paused before adding, “Are you sure you don’t mind me keeping Belle ‘entertained’ while you sleep?”

Jill gave out a purring laugh. “So long as you think you can get to sleep without thinking what I’ll be doing with our little guest while you’re not there.”

Rick gave a wicked smile. “I hope she gets some rest before she comes over.”

The evening of the party was dark and rainy. Late in the tropical storm season, dark clouds laced with lightning scudded across the sky. “It’s perfect weather for the party,” Jill called from the bathroom. “I just hope these caps stay on my teeth.”

“Well, you won’t be eating steaks with them. But you did get something to eat before you got dressed, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” was Jill’s sarcastic reply.

“Well if you’re finished in there I’m going to flip the breakers and start lighting candles.”

---

Belle checked herself in the mirror. The modifications to her skirt had delivered several punctured fingers and a string of invective, but the result was worth it. The short skirt barely hid the tops of her nude stockings and the white lace garter belt.

At first Belle had gone with a red satin blouse that she planned to show enough cleavage to attract some lustful glances. But at the last minute she chose a high collared white satin blouse. It closed at the neck with a bow. Belle shivered as she imagined one of her hosts gently pulling the ends, opening the blouse.

Belle kept her makeup simple. She pulled her hair into a tight bun at the back of her head, cursing at the one stray curl that refused to be tamed. A pair of black framed costume glasses and a thin briefcase completed her “lawyer look.”

Briefcase in hand Belle headed for the door. Christina, her roommate, gave her a disapproving look. “You’re going out like that?”

Belle smiled disarmingly. Christina wasn’t a bad roomie, just a bit judgmental. Belle used her as a sort of litmus test. If Christina frowned at an outfit, it must be sexy. “I’ll be late. Don’t wait up,” she said blithely. She barely suppressed a giggle as she escaped the apartment.

The rain stopped long enough for Belle to rush to her car. It was actually a brisk walk in her black high heels. But falling on the wet pavement would require a humiliating return to her apartment to change. Heavy drops started to spatter the hood of her car as she slipped into the driver’s seat.

The skies opened in earnest when Belle pulled out of the parking lot. Even with the wipers on full she drove slowly through the deluge. Chain lightning arced across the sky, causing her to flinch reflexively.

The normal thirty minute drive took closer to forty five. But the rain had moderated by the time she reached the driveway to Rick and Jill’s home. She carefully navigated the long drive, the house being set well back from the county road.

As the car’s headlights played across the front of the ranch style home Belle muttered, “What the Hell?” The house was completely dark. Boards nailed haphazardly over the windows gave the place an air of abandonment.

Belle might have sat there in her car indefinitely but for the shadow that detached itself from the porch. A figure in a dark suit stepped down onto the drive, black umbrella held overhead. It moved slowly, approaching the car with almost unnatural grace.

It was only when the stranger was at her door that Belle recognized Rick. But gone was the relaxed surfer looking dude. This Rick looked more like a funeral director. Dark suit and tie, white shirt, black shoes-shoes? When had Belle ever seen him in anything other than sneakers or hiking boots?

Rick’s blonde wavy hair was slicked back. His face seemed pale, his eyes gaunt. “Damn Rick, I hardly recognized you,” Belle said in relief.

“You may call me Sandor,” Rick replied flatly. “The Mistress is expecting you.”

A look of confusion crossed Belle’s face. ‘This must be some kind of role play,’ she thought anxiously. ‘But-the Mistress? That sounds promising,’ Belle told herself. “Ah yeah, sure.” Belle answered as she got under the umbrella. “Lead on, Sandor.”

Rick escorted Belle up to the front door, putting the umbrella aside as they reached the porch. He held the door to usher her inside. Belle crossed the threshold and gave a squeak of alarm. Just inside the door a skeleton slumped against the wall, dressed in a frilly maid’s uniform.

“My apologies, Miss,” Rick intoned behind Belle. “We are currently seeking a new domestic staff. Allow me to show you to the dining room.”

Belle looked around the living room as she crossed the house. Spider webs festooned every fixture. The furniture was draped with sheets and drop cloths, as if the house had been shut up for a long time. She noted a couple of furniture items in the center of the room that she didn’t recognize beneath their shrouds. Perhaps they were redecorating? Or they were being tidy serial killers and protecting the furniture from blood splatters?

The house glowed with the soft light of candles. There wasn’t a single light on in the place. “Well this is cozy,” Belle said as she was led to the dining table. It was set with bone white china on a black tablecloth.

Rick/Sandor seated Belle at the table. As he poured a goblet of dark red wine he stated, “The storm has disabled the electricity, Miss Harker. It may return when the storm passes.” Not waiting for her reply he continued. “The countess will join you directly. I shall go check on your dinner.”

Belle watched him go with a puzzled frown. Apparently she was “Miss Harker,” and Jill must be “The Countess.” The names seemed familiar to her, but she had no clue on how this bizarre scene was supposed to play out. It was like being in a play with no script.

Sipping her wine, Belle watched the flashes of lightning through the windows. She jumped in her seat when a voice said, “Miss Mina Harker, how good of you to come.” Belle spun in her seat to see Jill standing at the entrance to the dining room.

Belle’s mouth dropped open at the sight before her. Jill was sheathed in a long black dress that hugged her form provocatively. It was so low cut in the front that Belle thought her breasts would show themselves in full at any moment. As Jill walked a thigh high slit showed her legs, clad in jet black hose. “Uh, Countess?” Belle replied weakly.

“Countess Marya Zaleska, at your service,” Jill said as she extended her hand. Belle took it reflexively, noting the gleaming black nail polish. She was surprised when the other woman took the proffered hand and raised it to her lips.

Belle’s eyes widened as she looked into Jill’s face. Her hair, which she had been working at growing out, was teased into a mane of dark ringlets. The lips that lightly brushed Belle’s hand were blood red, and her teeth-were those fangs? But what had shaken Belle to her core were Jill’s eyes. They were jet black, without a trace of white. It was like looking into twin pits of darkness.

The whole thing was an act, Belle told herself. But it was a supremely creepy one. She felt the need to check her hand for bite marks as Jill released it. The smile Jill gave her discomfited guest revealed incisors that were definitely longer than a normal human’s would be. If she wasn’t a real vampire, Belle mused she was doing one hell of an impression.

“I was hoping that you could assist me with my affairs, Miss Harker,” Jill said in a sultry voice. She trailed one hand across Belle’s shoulder as she moved to her own seat. “I wish to leave my old, tired country and move to this one.” She smiled disconcertingly. “It’s so young and vibrant.”

“Uh, yes I suppose I could help you with that,” Belle said. She was trying to get into the spirit of the scene. But the whole thing just felt like more than a scene to her. And Jill-or the Countess as she was calling herself looked simultaneously scary and sexy as hell. Belle found herself staring at the woman’s ample cleavage.

The door to the kitchen opened and “Sandor” entered carrying a steaming plate of food. He set the plate before Belle. “Your dinner, Miss,” he said in a stiff and formal tone. In an undertone he continued, “Eat well, you’ll need to keep your strength up.”

“Sandor, don’t mumble,” the Countess/Jill snapped imperiously. “Go and find Edgar for me please. I haven’t seen him all evening.”

Bowing his head deferentially the man said, “As you wish, Countess,” before returning to the kitchen.

Belle looked at her plate. Rick was a whiz in the kitchen, and tonight he had prepared her a mouth watering steak. She looked to her host, whose place at the table was bare. “Aren’t you eating?” Belle asked.

“I keep rather unusual hours,” came the languid reply. “I’ll probably have a bite of something later.” The look she gave Belle sent a chill down her spine.

Giving her hostess a weak smile Belle cut into her steak. The meat was rarer than she liked, bright red and bloody. Belle frowned slightly. Rick was an excellent cook. If he undercooked the meat it must have been on purpose. She speared a dripping morsel and brought it to her mouth. It was surprisingly tender.

Belle looked up to see dark eyes staring at her with an almost predatory expression. She swallowed hard, self consciously raising her hand to her throat.

The Countess, for that was how Belle imagined her now rose sinuously from her seat. “You seem tense my dear,” she crooned. She moved with slow grace until she stood behind Belle’s chair. Black fingernails caught the lapels of Belle’s suit jacket. She drew it back, exposing Belle’s shoulders. “Why don’t you slip this off and try to relax for me.”

Belle trembled at the touch. She felt the woman’s hot breath on her ear as the jacked slipped down her arms. “Yeah,” she breathed unsteadily. “It is a bit warm in here.” She drew her arms from the jacket, looking anxiously up at her hostess.

“My, you’ve hardly touched your food,” the Countess said as her arms snaked either side of Belle’s chair. “Sandor would be sorely disappointed.” She took up the knife and fork, slicing into the red meat. “Here, let me help you.”

Belle watched as the fork was placed against her lips. She opened her mouth to take the proffered morsel. The Countess nuzzled her ear and Belle felt heat build between her thighs. She swallowed in a mouth suddenly gone dry.

“Perhaps your collar is a bit tight,” the soft voice murmured in Belle’s ear. A warm hand stroked her throat. A second hand caught the tail of the bow at her throat. It tugged gently, collapsing the bow. Belle’s collar fell open.

Another bit of food was pressed into Belle’s mouth. The tines of the fork lingered on her lips, pressing against their fullness just enough to give a hint of pain. Belle let out a gasp of surprise as a hand slipped inside her open blouse.

Belle pressed her thighs together as she felt herself buzzing. The intrusive hand slipped down to fondle her breasts, black nails dragging slowly over the white lace of her bra. She closed her eyes as the countess discarded the fork, sliding her fingers over Belle’s lips.

A little whimper escaped Belle as her arousal grew. She started in her seat as the first delicate kiss landed on her neck. “Fear not child,” came the sibilant whisper. “I will take care of you-forever.”

Belle felt the sucking at her throat and then the gentle nip. ‘Not real, not real,’ she told herself frantically. But it felt real. And she was simultaneously aroused and terrified.

“Countess,” came the sharp voice from across the room. It broke the spell. The Countess withdrew her hands. What is it, Sandor?” she asked peevishly.

“I’ve brought Edgar to see you,” Rick said in a monotone.

Belle’s attention was drawn to the silver cloche covering a small platter. It was placed at the empty table setting by the dark suited man. He dutifully stood back, awaiting his next order.

Self consciously buttoning her blouse Belle watched as the Countess swayed sinuously back to her seat. Though the moment had been interrupted Belle watched the sensuous movement of her hips. She wasn’t sure if she was happy or frustrated at the intrusion.

Jill sat down in her chair. It was all she could do to keep from laughing at the flushed look on Belle’s face. But now she had something to do that would sorely test her. Pasting a smile on her face she lifted the silver dome.

Belle’s eyes widened in shock. There on the platter was a large brown tarantula. She thought at first that it was a prop. But as the Countess scooped it up with a murmur of, “there you are Edgar!” Belle saw the thing move.

“What the fuck!” Belle yelped as she pushed back in her chair. It was the biggest goddamned spider she’d ever seen. And her hostess cooed at it lovingly as it slowly crawled from one palm to the other.

“This is Edgar,” Jill said as she held her hand out to Belle. Jill was not a fan of the big hairy arachnid. But the terrified look on Belle’s face made her glad that she’d gotten comfortable with the little beast. “Would you like to pet him?” she asked innocently.

“N-n-n-no,” Belle stammered in a high pitched voice. Jill might be putting on one hell of an act. But the hairy nightmare in her hands was undeniably real. Its little black eyes gleamed in the candlelight. Belle pushed her chair back. This was simply too bizarre. “As a matter of fact it’s getting late and I should probably go.” She surprised herself with the statement. It was like her subconscious had bypassed her brain and gotten to her vocal cords.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of sending you out into such a terrible night,” the Countess said. She placed the tarantula back on the platter before covering it. “Sandor will show you to the guest room.

Before Belle could react she felt a hand grip her bicep. “This way, please,” came the deep voice as she was hauled from her chair.

“I-I really should get home tonight,” Belle protested as she was propelled across the living room. Rick wasn’t jerking on her arm. It was more of just an irresistible force. It made Belle realize for the first time just how strong Rick was. And what he could do if he wanted to.

Belle was led to a closed door at the back of the house. A heavy oak door stained a dark walnut opened onto the guest room. Belle was dragged across the threshold. Once there she was propelled towards the bed.

Like many older homes in the South this room appeared to be a later addition. It was long and narrow with the bed to the right of the door. Belle could only stare at the room in shock. The walls were painted a light hungry black. The candelabrum with its glowing tapers left the far end in shadow.

Like the rest of the house, the room’s furniture was covered in sheets. The bed was the only exception. It was a heavily-built, four-poster canopy bed. Its woodwork was painted a gleaming black. Sheer black fabric hung down from the canopy. There were silver eye bolts spaced about the framework at regular intervals. The bed’s blood red coverlet had been thrown back, revealing matching red satin sheets.

Belle was still taking in the bizarre room when “Sandor” came up behind her. He held a long white nightgown in his hands. “You are to change into this,” he said in his flat, hollow voice. “I will be back to see to your comfort shortly.”

Numbly Belle took the proffered clothing. She was still trying to process the obviously kinky bed when her escort exited the room, closing the door behind him. There was the distinctive sound of a lock turning.

With the nightgown over one arm Belle rushed to the door. She pulled on the doorknob frantically. The door steadfastly refused to open. It was then that she noticed the keyed deadbolt above the knob. It could be locked from either side and only opened with the key. She was locked in!

At that moment Belle thought of shouting her safe word through the heavy door. As much as she’d enjoyed their previous bondage sessions this felt more like a horror movie. She looked to the bed, its hardware gleaming faintly in the candlelight. She thought of those old horror movies where the heroine was dragged off to the monster’s lair. Belle blushed slightly at the memory of her hands slipping surreptitiously between her thighs.

“Okay,” Belle murmured to herself. “So I’m the damsel in this little horror play.” She held up the white satin sleepwear. “Guess I might as well dress the part.” She stripped off her outfit, vaguely disappointed that “the Countess” hadn’t gotten to see her stockings and garter belt. It almost seemed as if Rick was determined to frustrate her moves on Belle.

The gown was soft and silky as Belle slipped it over her head. It had a decidedly Victorian feel to it, with long sleeves and a high necked collar. Aside from the softness of the material it was about as sexy as a nun’s habit.

As she dressed Belle thought again about her relationship with her two friends. Belle never thought about her sexual status. She always assumed that she was straight. But under Jill’s touch her body came to life. Was she gay? But Rick could bring her to climax easily. She’d learned that during her last visit. And the way he handled the ropes when he tied her-well just the thought made her warm.

“I guess it is what it is,” she told herself. “Let’s get a look at my prison,” Belle said as she took up the candelabrum.

In the glowing circle of light Belle made her way down the room. To her right was a door. She tried it, only to find it too was locked. Just beyond that was a sheet covered chair. Belle pulled the sheet off, letting it puddle on the floor.

“Holy shit,” Belle mouthed as she looked at the chair. It was straight backed, painted the same black as the bed. But what really struck her were the leather straps attached to the arms and legs of the chair. Belle swallowed a lump in her throat. Almost unnoticed in the dim light was the missing center slat of the chair’s seat. “Well that could be-interesting,” she muttered.

The hem of her nightgown brushed the hardwood floor as Belle continued her exploration. The far end of the room had another door off to the side. The wall there looked to be light gray stone instead of the smooth black finish that dominated the room.

There was the vague outline of a figure on the stone wall. When Belle approached it proved to be a skeleton, its arms shackled to the wall. The figure was dressed in a lacy red teddy that hung loosely off the gaunt frame. Belle reached out to touch it uncertainly. It was plastic, thank god. “So, come here often?” she asked it.

What looked like a saw-horse, draped in cobwebs, stood off to one side. Belle looked closer, pulling away the silky strands. The dark wood might have started out as a saw horse. But that was before the addition of a black padded top and strategically placed eye bolts. It was plain that it was no longer for woodworking. “But there’s definitely going to be some wood involved,” she said as she ran her hand over the padded vinyl top.

Belle expected the door to the left to be locked. She was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t, and that it opened into a cozy bathroom. Granted the blood red shower tiles and the eyebolts set into the walls worked against the cozy factor. But she was happy to find a toothbrush and floss (steak between your teeth much?)

After cleaning her teeth- something she doubted any horror heroine had to do, Belle finished her exploration. One notable feature of the room was the lack of windows. Belle imagined that there might have been one behind the stonework at one time. If the power was on the track-lighting in the room would have shined on the various areas, essentially casting a spotlight on whatever kinky activity was in store for the evening.

Moving back towards the bed, Belle noticed an area with track lights that had no kinky furniture to highlight. Was something removed? Or was this for some future improvement? The place could probably do with the rack or a set of stocks, Belle thought ruefully.

The final surprise was against one wall, covered by yet another sheet. Belle reached up, pulling a corner free. It covered a pegboard attached to the wall. Intrigued, she pulled the rest of the sheet away. There on the pegboard was a collection of ropes, straps, floggers and gags. “Holeeey shit,” Belle gasped.

Engrossed in her inspection of the bondage gear, Belle was caught unawares as “Sandor” entered the room. He loomed up in the shadowy light. “I trust you find the accommodations satisfactory?” he said, startling her.

“Not exactly a bed and breakfast,” Belle replied tartly. “And why am I locked in?”

“The house can be treacherous in the dark. I locked the door for your safety.” Taking a wide leather collar from the pegboard Rick turned to Belle. “Unbutton your collar, Miss Harker.”

Belle felt a thrill of excitement at the leather toy. But she was supposed to be an unwilling guest in the house. It would be better to play the part, she thought. “And if I don’t?” she said defiantly.

“I have been instructed by the Countess to prepare you for the night,” Rick said solemnly. He gestured to the toys on the pegboard. “Should you prove reticent, I have permission to encourage your compliance.

Belle glanced at the assortment of floggers and paddles hanging from their pegs. Even if she wasn’t acting, Belle wasn’t sure she wanted Rick’s “encouragement.” With as much annoyance as possible Belle unbuttoned her collar. She raised her chin as her captor slipped the collar around her throat.

“Sandor” stepped behind Belle, fastening the twin buckles of the collar. While there he added a small padlock to the top buckle, sealing it closed.

“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” Belle said nervously. The collar was wider than anything she’d ever played with. The most she had done in her self bondage was snap on a studded leather choker from the punk shop at the mall. The stiff edges of the collar required Belle to keep her chin elevated.

“It is for your own good,” Sandor said quietly. He tugged at the tight bun at the back of Belle’s head freeing it. Strong fingers pulled the hair, allowing it to fall over the back of her neck.

Belle felt a shiver of excitement as fingers dragged through her hair. She’d never been alone with Rick. It had only been the three of them to date. Was Jill okay with this? For that matter, was she?

Before Belle could answer the question she was propelled towards the bed. Her will to play the brat seemed to have dissolved with the arrival of the collar. She allowed herself to be guided to the bed, “Sandor” forcing her to sit on the edge of the coverlet.

“Time to tuck you in for the night, Miss Harker.” From beneath one of the pillows Rick produced a length of chain and a padlock. Belle cast her eyes nervously back as the lock and chain were attached to the buckle at the base of her collar. The click of the lock was loud in her ears.

Rick moved to the foot of the bed. Belle saw Rick reach down to take up another length of chain. He pulled, and the chain attached to Belle’s collar began to rattle through the spindles of the headboard. Belle turned in surprise as the tension on her neck increased. It suddenly dawned on her that it was all one chain, and by pulling on the end at the foot of the bed Rick was forcing her head to the top of it.

Belle lost her balance, falling backwards onto the bed. She had to crab walk up the bed to keep the collar from choking her. Only when the top of her head was a few inches from the headboard did Rick stop pulling. He hooked a carabiner clip through the chain, securing it to the footboard.

With her neck chained to the bed Belle found she could no longer sit or even move about more than a few inches. Yes, her limbs were free. But for all the good that would do her she might as well be spread eagled on the bed.

Rick had allowed Belle to explore her new predicament. Keeping in character he walked slowly to the pegboard and selected a wide leather belt. Returning to the bedside he said in a flat voice, “Raise your night dress, Miss Harker.”

Belle’s eyes widened at the command. Was Rick going to take her right there? She shuddered at the sight of the belt. “What’s that for?” she asked in a tremulous voice. If he was going to hit her Belle was definitely calling “red.”

“Do as you are instructed, Miss Harker.” The voice was still flat and cold, but it now carried a hint of menace. With shaking hands Belle hiked up her nightgown. She lifted her hips, blushing as the gown revealed her mound to Sandor’s eyes.

A little gasp escaped Belle as the belt was slipped around her waist. Her relief at not being punished was replaced with curiosity. It was indeed a belt, but it had a leather strap that hung perpendicular to it from the back. Her silent question was answered as the strap was pulled down between her legs and up over her sex.

The front of the belt was heart shaped and adorned in red leather. Belle watched in fascination as the top of the strap was locked tightly to the front of the belt, effectively sealing away her pussy. She wondered if Rick had noticed how wet she was?

Apparently satisfied with Belle’s situation, her captor took up the candelabrum from the bedside table. From it he lit a single taper in an ornate wall sconce. Looking at her he said, “I wish you a pleasant evening. I shall bring you breakfast in the morning.”

Belle watched him move to the door, unlocking it with his key before exiting. The last thing she expected was to be chained to the bed and simply abandoned. Her arousal faded into a vague feeling of frustration. In all the self bondage games Belle had played, she had never imagined a scenario such as this.

The single candle struggled to hold the room’s darkness at bay. She could just barely make out the far end of the room with its shackled skeleton. The thing seemed to move in the flickering light, raising gooseflesh on her arms.

Bell lay there with her nightgown bunched around her waist for several minutes. “Well this is crazy,” she muttered to herself. Lifting her hips she struggled to cover herself. The heart shaped front of her chastity belt seemed to mock her as she covered it.

It wasn’t the shiny steel belts that Belle had seen online. It obviously couldn’t be worn for any length of time as there were no accommodations for necessary bodily functions. But it did lock away her pleasure zone.

Out of curiosity Belle tried slipping a finger between her leg and the belt. She went by feel, as sitting up to look at the device simply got her a tug on her collar that brought her head back to the pillow. It was just possible to slip a single finger beneath the leather, but it was hardly satisfying. With a frustrated sigh Belle stared up at the sheer black fabric that canopied the bed.

---

In the living room a council of war was in progress.

“Is she tucked in for the night?” Jill asked. She had changed from her form fitting dress into a sheer black peignoir that left little to the imagination.

“Oh yeah, I think she’s pretty rattled with the whole playroom setup. Are you really going to keep her up all night?”

“I slept during the day just so I could play with her all night,” Jill answered firmly. “You don’t mind that I’m leaving you out, do you darling?”

“My turn will come.” Rick replied with a laugh. “I thought Belle was going to safe-word - or just bolt for the door when you started playing with Edgar.”

“Well I washed my hands about six times after handling him. But I think the look on her face was worth it. By the time we’re done this will be the best Halloween dinner ever!”

There were no clocks in the “guest room.” Belle could only tell the passage of time by the shrinking candle in its sconce. She had done her best to get comfortable, given the circumstances. With a bit of effort she had worked her gown back into place. Pulling up the sheets and duvet had been trickier, a tack accomplished with her feet and legs. Snuggled between the satin sheets, Belle felt her eyelids droop.

The click of the playroom door brought her instantly awake. Forgetting her situation Belle tried to sit up, only to find herself roughly pulled back down. In the dim light she saw the bizarre vision her friend had become.

A diaphanous black gown seemed to hover about Jill as she stole silently across the floor. Full breasts pushed out against the web-like material. Her black eyes caught the feeble light. Belle was drawn to Jill’s lips, which shone a vibrant red. And beyond there were the gleaming white incisors, longer than any normal human would have.

Belle felt the collar at her throat as she swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure if she should say something to Jill or not. Her body tensed with anticipation as Jill-or perhaps it was truly the Countess circled the bed like a predator circling its helpless prey.

The coverlet was snatched away with a suddenness that startled Belle. Reflexively she threw her arms across her chest and hips. Embarrassed by her reaction Belle lowered her arms to her sides. She looked defiantly into the Countess’s eyes.

The Countess stared back, black pupilless eyes. A feral smile graced blood red lips. “Such modesty, Miss Mina,” she purred. Shrugging her shoulders she let her gown slide to the floor. Her skin glowed in the candlelight. “But that’s not necessary for two close friends.” She moved sinuously to the foot of the bed. “And I think you and I will become very close.”

Belle licked her lips in a mouth suddenly gone dry. The intensity of the other woman’s gaze made her want to look away. But like the rabbit that meets the serpent she was transfixed. In the back of her mind Belle’s inner voice kept repeating- it’s really just Jill. She only wished she could truly believe it.

Black fingernails raked lightly across Belle’s ankles. Instinctively she tried to pull away. But the hand gripped tighter, making Belle wince as the nails dug into her flesh. A gasp escaped her as her legs were forced apart.

“Now my sweet morsel,” purred the Countess. “Let’s see what you were hiding beneath that oh so short skirt.” She let her hands travel slowly up Belle’s thighs, pushing up her nightgown as she went.

Belle felt the woman’s hands as they brushed across her leather belt. She saw a look of confusion flit across her face. She gave a squeak of surprise as her nightdress was roughly pushed to her waist.

Rage-genuine rage-filled the Countess’s visage as she stared at the chastity belt. “Sandor!” she hissed through bared teeth.

Belle didn’t think this was an act. Her friend was genuinely pissed. But she couldn’t help tweaking her ego just a bit. Belle tapped her collar hidden by the high neckline of her nightgown. “I’d love to help you,” she said casually. “But I’m a little tied up right now.”

Jill’s reaction was immediate and startling. She lunged for the neckline of Belle’s gown. With a fierce yank she tore it open, revealing the high leather collar. Buttons popped and sailed off into the darkness as she tore at the delicate fabric.

Eyes wide with shock, Belle watched as her gown was shredded. Fear gripped her at the woman’s reaction. In moments Belle was completely exposed, the satin gown hanging in tatters from her shoulders.

Heart racing in terror, Belle was about to call her safe word when Jill’s demeanor suddenly changed. She watched as the other woman took a slow, deep breath. “It appears that our Sandor wants me to savor the moment with you, Miss Harker,” she said smoothly. “Well, I can be patient-for now. But that doesn’t mean that you and I can’t spend an interesting evening together.”

Jill slipped off the bed. Making sure to keep the same sinuous flow to her walk she moved to the pegboard. Rick had played her a nasty trick, but she would make the best of it. Poor Belle was going to find herself very frustrated by morning.

Belle watched her would-be vampire lover fade into the gloom. She returned a moment later, the gleam of chains and leather dangling from her hands. She trembled slightly as the first leather cuff was wrapped around her ankle. It was accompanied with the delicate touch of lips on her instep. There followed a tug as her leg was pulled towards the large corner-post of the bed.

Jill managed to be efficient, while appearing slow and sensuous. Belle felt a buzzing feeling between her thighs as her legs were locked wide apart. If not for the chastity belt she would be wide open for her captor. She resisted the urge to reach down and tug at the belt.

Belle’s bondage experiments had mostly involved rope and the occasional pair of handcuffs. The leather restraints being wrapped around her wrists were a whole new level for her. As the final cuff was locked in place and its chain pulled to the bed corner she felt a moment of panic. There was no wriggling her fingers around to tease open a stubborn knot. This bondage was not hers to release.

Jill eyed her work with satisfaction. “There now,” she crooned. Black fingernails dragged slowly down between Belle’s breasts. “Isn’t that so much better than flailing around uselessly on the bed?”

Belle unconsciously tugged on her restraints. The sensation of sharp nails dragging across her skin made her shiver. And the nails continued ever downward, over her belly, across the wide leather belt until they ran trails of fire either side of the red leather heart.

“Uh-Countess,” Belle said unsteadily. “Could I have something to drink?” Her mouth was drier than she could ever remember. She licked her lips compulsively.

“Of course, my dear,” came the silky response. The plastic water bottle Jill produced seemed out of place in the sexualized environment, like having a commercial in the middle of a porn film. But even here the game was played.

Belle felt her head lifted, the chain tugging at her collar. The bottle was pressed to her lips. Cool water sluiced down her throat, followed almost immediately by Jill’s lips on her open mouth. The kiss was gentle, a brushing of lips in the pale light. Belle moaned softly and the kiss morphed into something hard and hungry. She struggled to turn her head away, but Jill's fingers gripped her hair, pinning her in place.

When the Countess broke contact they were both panting. Belle felt like her body was on fire. She strained against her bonds, wanting nothing more than to reach up and pull the other woman down onto her once again. At that moment she didn’t care if it was Jill, the Countess or a succubus from hell.

Jill shifted, throwing a leg over Belle’s tummy to straddle her. Her own pussy was dripping and she ground her hips against the helpless woman, painting Belle’s stomach with her juices. “Such a tasty little morsel, my Mina,” she crooned.

Belle rocked her hips upward, thrusting uselessly against the woman who straddled her. The chastity belt pressed against her swollen lips, but it did nothing to satisfy her burning need. She could only wait for whatever the Countess was willing to give her.

Jill’s fingers softly raked across Belle’s breasts, the tips of her nails lining up to catch the rising buds of her nipples. As each one caught on the rapidly puckering flesh Belle would let out a little gasp. Jill smiled at the gentle torment, feeling the sharpened incisors press against her own lips.

“It’s so sad that your sweetness is locked away from me,” the Countess said languidly. “I suppose there’s only so much I can do for my poor helpless girl,” she said before lowering her mouth onto Belle’s breast.

Belle froze for a moment as the other’s mouth closed over her breast. She felt the sharp drag of fangs on her tender flesh. ‘God, is she really going to bite me,’ came the frantic thought. The teeth met at her nipple, closing on the hardened nub. Belle whimpered as the Countess clamped down, pulling and sucking.

“My poor darling,” the Countess said as she stared at the other breast. “You want the pleasure, but you love the pain. It’s so confusing, isn’t it?”

Belle bucked beneath her as the teasing of her nipple began again. Her left nipple throbbed from the rough treatment. It stood, hard and swollen in the candlelight. She cried aloud as the right breast suffered the same erotic torment.

After what seemed like an eternity Jill broke contact. Belle was panting, her nipples tingling as the Countess’ saliva dried on her skin. Black nailed hands were reaching for her face, stroking her jawline, caressing her cheek. Fingers played over her lips, gently pushing into her mouth. “Ohhhh,” Belle moaned helplessly.

“Oh dear,” mused the Countess. “I do believe you almost came for me there, my little one. I think with the right amount of torture you would do just that.” Dark eyes looked down at Belle. “You’d like to cum for me like that, wouldn’t you?”

Belle tried to speak. Slowly the fingers that were exploring her mouth withdrew. “Yes,” she panted. “Yes, I want to cum so bad,” she pleaded.

Jill’s response was a sinister sounding laugh. She slid off her captive, dragging her hands across Belle’s naked flesh as she went. “I shall see what I can do,” she said as she moved off into the darkness.

Belle stared at the back of her captor as she faded into the gloom. ‘Wait-what?’ her inner voice cried. ‘What did she say about torture?’ Had she just asked Jill-or the Countess, to torture her? Belle’s mind went into overdrive at what she might have agreed to. Whipping? Nipple clamps? Hot wax? Nightmare scenarios ran helter-skelter through her mind.

The whooshing sound of something flying through the air echoed out of the darkness. A lump of ice formed in Belle’s stomach. She had seen enough on the internet while researching self bondage to know the sound of a whip.

Belle watched the naked woman emerge from the darkness, her bare flesh ghostly in the candlelight. From her hand descended a pool of darkness, strands of black trailing below it. Belle’s body began an uncontrollable trembling.

Jill couldn’t count the number of times she had been flogged. Rick was a sadistic virtuoso with impact play, able to make her simultaneously scream for mercy and beg for more. She was nowhere near that good. And as far as she knew Belle was a virgin when it came to flogging. She would tread carefully.

Belle’s eyes widened as the leather strands were dragged across the sole of her foot. How bad would it hurt, she wondered. She tensed as the slow drag of leather moved up her inner thigh. Her mouth went dry.

A sudden “whoosh” of sound, followed by a sharp crack made Belle yelp. She jumped in her bonds reflexively. But there was no sharp sting of pain, only the dull thud of the whip against the heart shaped front of her chastity belt.

Her whole body shaking Belle stammered out a protest. “J-Jill, I’m, I’m not sure I can…” But her words were stopped by the handle of the flogger pressed to her lips.

“Shhh, sweet Mina,” Jill said soothingly. “There is no Jill here, only the Countess and her sweet little morsel.” The butt of the handle pressed harder, forcing its way into Belle’s mouth. “Are you afraid that you’ll scream, my sweet?” The handle pressed deeper, making Belle gag. “It’s all right if you do. In fact,” Jill said as she moved the handle rhythmically in Belle’s mouth, “if you don’t I will be so disappointed.”

Belle gasped for air as the flogger was pulled from her mouth. Leather strands traveled across her breasts, the lightest, teasing touch. She watched as the Countess dragged them back, the nipples puckering under their caress. Back and forth the flogger went, each time with a bit more velocity.

With each pass Belle’s skin warmed. The gentle caress became a bite, like a lover who has lost control of their passion. Arousal fought with pain to be the dominant sensation. Hardened nipples glowed pink as they were tormented. Belle let out a cry of fear and need.

With a quick up and over motion the flailing leather strands left Belle’s pink breasts. Singing through the air they came down sharp and hard on the leather heart once again. Laser focused on her target, Jill struck with a force that brought a cry of shock to her victim.

The whip sang as it landed between Belle’s thighs. The occasional strand slipped to the side, biting her naked thigh. But the bulk of the force was directed at her leather chastity belt. Though Belle envisioned her pussy sliced to ribbons in the assault, what she felt was a heavy pulsing, as if someone were thrusting into her.

Arousal flared anew. The burning of her tortured breasts merged with the heavy thrusts between her thighs. Seeking the release that seemed just out of reach, Belle arched her back, pushing her pelvis into the air.

The blows came hard and fast, Jill working herself into a sweat. Belle felt herself edging towards a climax that remained tauntingly out of reach. She tried desperately to grind against the leather belt, hoping that relief would come.

Suddenly the blows stopped. The flogger sailed off into the darkness as the Countess plunged forward. Belle let out a cry of frustration that was quickly stifled by her tormentor’s lips hard on her mouth. The cry turned to a hopeless whimper.

“Oh, so close,” came the mock sympathy. “What a pity that wicked Sandor locked you away from me.”

Belle felt her body shaking. She twisted her hips on the bed, still hoping for some miraculous relief. Instead she had lips pressing on her own, a tongue hungrily probing her mouth. “Damn you,” she growled.

“Oh, I already am, my sweet Mina,” came the languid reply. Jill shifted her body, rising to her knees. “But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t have my pleasures, now does it?”

Belle watched as the woman crawled up her helpless form. Jill’s knees settled either side of Belle’s face. She settled back, letting her naked ass brush against Belle’s still hard nipples. Fingers wound into Belle’s hair, slowly tightening their grip.

“And if you deny me my pleasures,” the Countess hissed. “I will be very stern with you indeed.”

Belle watched as Jill shifted forward, spreading her legs, slowly lowering herself onto Belle’s face. The musky scent of Jill’s own arousal filled Belle’s nostrils. The cleanly shaved pussy of her captor lightly brushed Belle’s lips.

When Belle hesitated, fingers tightened in her hair, the nails scraping across her scalp. She flicked her tongue up tentatively, gently licking the folds of Jill’s sex. She felt the woman’s juices coat her tongue. Above Belle came a slow moan of satisfaction.

The pressure on her hair eased, telling Belle that she had indeed found a way to please the Countess. She began in earnest, stroking the slit, trying to hit the little bud of Jill’s clit.

Belle was steered in the direction her captor desired, limited by the thick collar and the hands buried in her brunette curls. She could feel the growing excitement of the Countess as she approached the climax that Belle herself had been denied. The resentment of that poisoned her efforts, causing her to slow.

Focused on her own dark pleasures, The Countess dug her nails into Belle’s scalp. She dropped down onto Belle’s face, smothering her with her pussy. Belle bucked and struggled beneath her, fighting to breathe as her captor ground her sex into Bell’s face.

Stars flashed before Belle’s eyes as her oxygen was consumed. She struggled helplessly, desperately using her mouth to satisfy the woman who literally had Belle’s life in her hands. An exultant cry above her gave Belle a ray of hope.

The Countess sat back, allowing Belle the air she so desperately needed. The helpless woman’s chest heaved as she replenished starved lungs. Belle could feel the juices of her tormentor slowly drying where they had smeared her face.

Jill watched as Belle tried to wipe her face on the pillow. She reached down to trace Belle’s jawline with a fingernail. “Am I not sweet enough for you my darling?” She leaned in, nipping lightly at Belle’s chin. “Very soon I will have Sandor remove that annoying collar and I’ll taste just how sweet my little Mina is.”

Belle felt the Countess shift her weight, coming to lie alongside her bound form. The naked woman snuggled up against her, casting a leg over Belle’s. Black eyes closed as Jill drifted off.

Even if Belle had wanted to disentangle herself from the Countess she couldn’t slip her cuffs to do so. The would-be vampire had fallen asleep with one hand cupping Belle’s naked breast. Black nails gleamed against her pale skin.

Belle wondered at the bizarre situation she had found herself in. It seemed that her friends had decided to keep her captive all evening. The thought unsettled her. She hadn’t really told Christina where she was going. It was possible that their easy friendship up until now had been just an act. What if they kept her as their plaything indefinitely? The thought was terrifying. But at the same time she’d had such fantasies when playing her self bondage games. Belle just never imagined that fantasy could morph into a frightening reality so easily.

Turning her head to look at Jill brought more questions. Jill couldn’t possibly be a supernatural creature. Belle had seen her in the daylight the day they had found her in the woods. But she could see the tips of fangs protruding from Jill’s half open mouth. They certainly looked real. And the eyes without any whites, just black orbs? Even if it wasn’t real it was creepy as hell.

Belle finally decided to test her situation. When Jill woke up Belle would use her safe word. If they ignored it she would at least know how much trouble she was in.

She wasn’t sure how long she laid there before her companion stirred. As Jill stretched languidly Belle spoke. “Uh Jill, or I mean Countess,” she started. But before she could utter her safe word Jill’s lips were on hers once again, questing and hungry.

The kiss seemed to go on forever, Jill’s tongue probing her mouth, sharp teeth tugging at her lip. Belle felt the embers of her earlier arousal fanned back to a brightly burning flame.

By the time Jill broke contact and murmured, “What is it, my sweet?” Belle could only stammer. “M-my arms, Countess, they’re getting pretty sore.”

“Oh you poor thing,” came the mock concern. “Let me fix that for you.”

Belle let out a sigh of relief as her cuffs were released from the corners of the bed. She gave a little groan, cramped muscles protesting the sudden movement. But if she thought that meant freedom Belle was sadly mistaken. Jill hooked her cuffs together with one of the padlocks. Dragging Belle’s hands to her waist Jill hooked the lock through the one on her chastity belt. The lock clicked shut, trapping Belle’s hands at her waist.

Jill looked at the candle. It had burned down in its sconce, hardly more than a stub. “The dawn approaches, little Mina,” she said quietly. “But perhaps we have time for one more game before I leave you.”

Belle watched as the maybe vampire slid off the bed, heading for the pegboard of toys. She felt a shiver of anticipation. Was the Countess going to beat her again? Her breasts tingled at the memory of her flogging. Could she face that again?

Still pinned to the bed by the shackles on her ankles and the collar around her throat, Belle struggled to see what new toy the Countess had selected. The woman approached her, hips swaying and hands behind her back. Belle did her best to slow her racing heart.

Only when the Countess was kneeling alongside Belle’s bound form did she reveal her hidden toy. Belle’s eyes widened at the sight of the wicked gag in her captor’s hands. She had seen it before, the night of their first dinner. A wide flat panel with a short black phallus on one side and a much longer one on the other was held suspended over Belle’s mouth.

“Open wide, my sweet,” crooned the Countess as she pressed the short dildo to Belle’s lips.

Belle struggled, turning her head away from the gag. But she was hopelessly trapped. The Countess grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her to take the black rubber toy into her mouth. She made a strangled protest as the thing hit the back of her throat, gagging her.

The strap was pulled tight around the back of Belle’s head, driving the dildo deep into her mouth. She clenched her teeth around the shaft, trying to hold it at bay. Only when the buckle was cinched tight did the Countess ease her grip.

“Hmmm,” Jill said as she ran her fingers over the toy protruding from the gag. “I’m going to need to be very wet to ride that.” She shifted on the bed, straddling Belle’s hips. “You’ll help me with that, won’t you dear Mina?”

Belle felt the other woman’s slit lower onto her cuffed hands. From what she felt there Belle doubted her captor needed much help. But knowing the Countess’ harsh methods of persuasion she knew better than to resist. Twisting a hand in her cuff Belle let her fingers play along the other woman’s sex.

In moments Belle’s fingers were slick and the Countess was moaning and grinding against her. Despite the dildo locked in her mouth that threatened to choke her Belle thought this was the hottest thing she had ever done.

Panting, the Countess dropped to all fours. She moved sinuously up Belle’s helpless form, like a cat preparing to pounce. Belle looked past the black rubber shaft that protruded from the panel of her gag. The black eyes and sharpened fangs made the woman look positively feral.

Belle’s view changed like when the chips in a kaleidoscope fall into a new pattern. Jill’s knees were to either side of her head. Looking up Belle saw the naked, dripping slit of the Countess’ sex lowering onto the shaft.

A moan escaped the woman as she eased the toy inside her. Belle felt the push on her gag, felt the shorter phallus locked in her mouth pushed deeper into her throat. The Countess seemed to settle in place, as if to let the toy stretch her out.

Belle could feel the tension increase in the other woman’s legs as she raised herself. The freshly lubricated shaft glistened wetly in the dim candlelight. She bit down hard on the gag as the Countess began a slow movement, riding up and down the toy.

Jill’s pace increased as she rode her captive’s face. Her thoughts of dominance over the captive mixed with the dildo’s stimulation to bring her closer to a delicious climax. She reached behind her, taloned fingers finding Belle’s tender breasts.

For Belle it was like watching some bizarre porn film close up. Her head jerked back as Jill’s wet pussy rushed toward her, threatening with every thrust to make her retch. As the shorter dildo prodded the back of her throat she made a little “Urk” sound that was counterpoint to the wet slap of Jill’s sex on her gag.

She tried to find a rhythm to the assault, sucking in a quick breath in as the Countess pulled back, letting it out as she dropped back onto Belle’s face. She could feel the pace quickening, the movements becoming more frantic as the woman’s climax approached.

Suddenly Belle felt sharp nails dig into her breasts. The flesh still sensitive from her earlier abuse, Belle let out a muffled scream. It was the sound that the evil Countess needed to push her over the edge.

Belle felt the weight of her tormentor as she ground her pussy into the gag. The shaft in Belle’s mouth pushed deeper, choking her. She bucked frantically, trying to clear her airway. Her mouth was filled with her own saliva and the choking toy.

Jill came back to herself as Belle struggled beneath her. She quickly slipped off the dildo and reached for the straps that held it to Belle’s face. The shaft pulled wetly from Belle’s mouth, followed by a torrent of drool as the bound turned her head and coughed spasmodically.

“Oh, my sweet darling,” the Countess' voice crooned. “You are such a delightful morsel.” She used the pillow to wipe the mess from Belle’s face. “But it is almost dawn and I must leave you soon.”

Belle, still panting to replenish her depleted stores of oxygen, watched as the cuffs about her ankles were released from their chains. The Countess reached behind her neck and freed her collar from the chain there.

“Come, my pet. There isn’t much time,” the Countess said as she hauled Belle to the edge of the bed.

Belle felt the cold floor shock her feet as she stood. Strong fingers laced themselves into her hair and propelled her forward into the dimly lit room.

Trailing the shredded nightgown Belle was marched the length of the dungeon until she faced the stone wall at the end. The Countess spun her about, pressing her back into the rough stone. There was the sliver flash of a key as her hands were released from the chastity belt.

Belle had momentary hopes of freedom as her shackled hands came up. But then they were pushed above her head. The Countess pinned her there as she hooked another chain through the leather cuffs.

“I have instructed Sandor to see to all your needs while I rest,” the Countess said as she leaned in close. Catching Belle’s hair once again, she pulled their mouths together. “Until tonight, my sweet,” she purred. Then she was gone, fading away into the darkness.

Belle watched in shock as Jill abandoned her. ‘Until tonight,’ came the panicked thought. ‘Are they going to keep me here all day?’ She tugged at the cuffs that now shackled her to the wall. To her right the plastic skeleton in the red lace teddy seemed more foreboding.

At the far end of the room the stub of the guttered fitfully and went out. The room was plunged into darkness. Belle shifted uneasily, feeling the wisps of her tattered clothing brush her legs. At least that’s what she hoped it was. Her imagination filled the room with dark hairy creatures that crept silently towards her.

“Hello,” she called into the darkness. “Jill, Rick? I think I’m done now!” Silence was the only answer as the room swallowed her voice.

Jill met Rick coming out of the bedroom. Back in his dark suit he addressed his lover. “Good morning! I trust you had an enjoyable night?”

She gave him a catlike smile. “I did, except for that nasty trick with the chastity belt. I had hoped to make her cum until she begged me to stop-and you ruined it,” she said accusingly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it today.”

“You bastard,” Jill laughed. “You want our little Belle all to yourself, you greedy prick.” She started to rub tired eyes. “Shit I’ve got to get these contacts out before they completely dry out my eyeballs.” Jill gave Rick a stern look. “Play all you want, just make sure she’s ready for the grand finale at sunset.”

“Of course Countess,” Rick said in his flattest tone. Smirking, he said, “Is my tie straight?”

Slipping her arms around his neck Jill planted a kiss on his neck. “You’re the perfect creepy butler. Just be careful or I’ll be sucking your blood.” She landed a playful bite on his throat before slipping off to the bedroom.

Rick eyed her ass as it swayed in retreat. “And I might just be driving a stake into you, but it won’t be through your heart,” he said quietly.

---

Belle jerked forward, the chains at her wrists catching her. Tired eyes snapped open. She had dosed off again. How many times had her eyes drifted shut, her body relaxed only to be brought back to wakefulness by her shackles? She knew that somewhere out in the darkness there was a soft bed with the sensual feel of satin sheets. Even if she were bound, spread-eagle, it would be a delight compared to her current predicament.

After the candle had sputtered and died Belle lost all track of time. In her mind’s eye she could see herself shackled to the rough stone wall, the lingerie clad skeleton beside her the only companion. “So Sally,” she said to her bony companion, “how long have you been hanging out here?”

When her cries for release proved ineffective Belle was resigned to wait. But she really didn’t know what it was she was waiting for. Her own bondage games had always had some sort of time limit. It was waiting for a frozen key to thaw, or the arrival of a long denied orgasm. Then there was the struggle to free herself.

But this was something completely new to her. As many times as Belle had fantasized of being kidnapped and tied up she hadn’t imagined that much of that would be just waiting-waiting for her captor to notice her, to do something with her.

Belle almost cried with relief when the door at the far end of the dungeon opened. The glow of the candelabrum filled the doorway, followed by the dark suited form of Sandor. Glancing over at the shackled skeleton Belle muttered, “Well Sally, it looks like one of us is about to get out of here.”

Rick slowly crossed the room. As he set the glowing candles down Belle sighed with relief. “Wow, this was intense,” she said tiredly. “It was so dark that I was really freaked out. And I’ve gotta say my arms are killing me.” She gave her shackles a tug for emphasis.

Belle’s heart sank when Rick said, “Good morning Miss Harker. I trust you had a pleasant evening?” He produced a key before reaching for the lock on her belt. “We can remove this now.”

The lock clicked and the leather belt fell away, exposing Belle to his view. She blushed, modestly crossing her legs to avoid the hungry look in Rick’s eyes. “The Countess has asked me to see to your needs while she is resting. She says she’ll see you at dinner tonight. I assume you are ready for some breakfast?”

The words bounced off Belle like rain on a tin roof. She tried to make sense of what Rick was saying. Dinner tonight? Did that mean that she’d been there all night, and that they meant to keep her captive through the entire day? Belle had never imagined that she’d be held prisoner for such a long session.

She was still trying to put the whole crazy scenario together when Sandor unlocked her cuffs from the overhead chain. She heard him say something about relieving herself, but it wasn’t until he guided her into the bathroom that comprehension dawned.

“Come out when you are ready Miss Harker. I’ll set you up for breakfast.”

Belle realized that her bladder was full to bursting. Hiking up the shredded nightgown as best she could Belle settled herself on the toilet with a sigh. Her hands were still locked together. But at least they were in front of her. Asking for help wiping herself would have been just too mortifying.

There was a small window in the bathroom. The frosted glass was covered on the outside by dull gray metal. Pale light slipped in around the edges. Belle realized that the possible escape route was sealed with hurricane shutters. “Welcome to Florida,” she muttered dejectedly, “Where a hurricane can turn any room into a sex dungeon.”

Sandor was patiently waiting for her when Belle emerged from the bathroom. “This way please,” he said as he gestured towards the chair. If there was any question as to whether it was a request or a command the hand on her arm settled it.

Belle had briefly looked at the chair the previous evening. But now it sat before her in all its glorious menace. It gleamed blackly in the candlelight, its harsh lines interrupted only by the leather straps that adorned it. The missing center panel of the seat seemed a hungry maw, waiting to devour the unwary.

“Please be seated, Miss Harker,” she was told.

“Couldn’t we take just a little break?” Belle asked hopefully.

Her answer came quickly as she was spun around and pressed into the seat. The wide leather collar was hooked to the tall back of the chair. Belle struggled as her legs were pushed apart. First her ankles and then her knees were captured by the leather straps, leaving her wide open.

Sandor gathered up the ruined nightgown before uncuffing Belle’s wrists. He expertly pulled it up and over her head before tossing it aside. Belle flailed her arms wildly, resisting as Sandor tried to strap them to the arms of the chair.

“As you wish, Miss,” the man said, stepping back.

Belle watched as he walked towards the pegboard. Sudden fear gripped her. She searched frantically for the end of the chain that bound her collar to the chair, all the while watching her captor.

When he turned back towards her Belle saw the riding crop in his hands. Her blood turned to ice in her veins. That looked like it would really hurt! “No, look I’m sorry,” she stammered as he approached. She placed her arms on the arms of the chair. “See, you can strap me in now without a problem.”

“It’s a bit late for regrets, Miss Harker.” The riding crop extended, tracing a line along Belle’s jaw. Involuntarily she turned her head away. Trembling hands gripped the chair as the leather loop at the end dragged down between her breasts.

“N-no really, I’ll do whatever you say,” she said breathlessly. In the back of her mind a voice was screaming ‘Safe word! Use your safe word!’ But for some reason the word wouldn’t come out.

“Perhaps if you were to ask-or even beg to be bound to the chair?” The riding crop dragged down her abdomen, hovering threateningly over her exposed sex.

“Yes-yes, please tie me to the chair,” she gushed.

Her plea was met with a disapproving frown. “That hardly seems sincere, Miss Harker.”

Belle closed her eyes, trying to slow the pounding in her chest. “Please Sir, I would love it if you would strap me tightly to this wonderful chair.”

The gentle flick of the crop against her clit made Belle jump. “I think that will do for now, Miss Harker.”

Belle felt the straps close around her wrists. A second pair of straps at the elbows meant that she could not use her arms at all. The tall padded back of the chair was pierced with numerous holes. Through these other straps were threaded. Bell watched as one went low across her hips, pinning her backside to the seat. Two additional straps went above and below her breasts, sandwiching them tightly. The chain hooked to her collar was removed, only to be replaced with a leather strap. The final strap went across Belle’s forehead, locking her head in place.

Unbeknownst to the captive woman there was a metal clamp beneath the chair. It had once been part of a gooseneck lamp, but Rick had modified it. The free end now sported a set of adjustable jaws. It could hold all manner of things. Today Rick slipped a magic wand vibrator into place before screwing down the clamp.

Belle was unable to see what her captor was doing. She gave a little gasp of surprise as something brushed lightly against her labia. “Oh my God!” Belle breathed a moment later as the vibrations started.

Standing up and fastidiously brushing the knees of his pants Rick addressed her in his same flat voice. “I hope you enjoy your accommodations, Miss Harker. I designed this chair personally. It should entertain you while I prepare your breakfast. So if you’ll excuse me,” he said as he turned towards the door.

Belle watched him go with a confused disbelief. He was going to go make breakfast? At least he left the candles for light. She couldn’t imagine being bound so thoroughly and left in the dark.

The vibrator’s touch was light and feathery. It touched her, sending messages of arousal to her brain, but she could tell that the gentle teasing would frustrate rather than satisfy.

Twisting her body in the chair Belle tried to inch forward. The strap across her hips bit into her naked flesh, giving her just the tiniest bit of movement. The effort yielded only the slightest increase in pressure on her sex.

“Okay,” Belle muttered. “We’ll just have to ignore the fucking thing.”

That proved to be easier said than done. Belle strained against the straps that held her to the chair. In all of her bondage play she had never been so completely immobilized. It was exciting, but with an edge of panic to it.

The straps that framed her breasts were set close enough that they exerted a steady pressure. It caused them to bulge outward. Belle could see her nipples pressing forward, reacting to her arousal. If her goal was to ignore the teasing of her sex, she was failing miserably.

Not being able to move her head was almost as bad as the vibrator’s tease. All Belle could see was what was in the range of her vision. It was impossible to even look down to see the vibrator poking up through the gap in the chair.

By the time Sandor returned with her breakfast Belle was squirming frantically in her chair. The vibrator that she had chosen to ignore was driving her to distraction. She could feel the wetness growing between her legs, could almost imagine her juices puddling on the floor.

The smell of coffee saved her from total madness. The Countess had given her very little rest during her nighttime visit. And since it seemed that Sandor wasn’t about to tuck her in for a nap it appeared coffee was her only hope.

A metal table was pulled up alongside Belle. It had the cold look of one of those medical stands that doctors lay out their tools. Or perhaps it was one where psychopaths laid out theirs, Belle thought with a shudder.

This morning it held a tray of food that smelled delicious. Glancing down Belle could see the warm yellow glow of scrambled eggs and the crispy brown of bacon. Her stomach rumpled plaintively, trying to override the needy insistence of her loins.

Rick eyed his captive speculatively. The old chair had been a thrift store find, extensively modified. He smiled at the memory of using it on Jill, edging her until she was reduced to tears. But even then Jill had been used to their bondage games. He could well imagine the stress it put on this relative newbie.

The first sip of coffee caused Belle to close her eyes in delight. It was sweet and hot as it slid over her tongue. “Oh, thank you,” she breathed. The coffee was followed by a forkful of eggs. Belle found it awkward to chew and swallow with her head strapped down. “I don’t suppose you could take this off my head,” she said, gesturing upwards with her eyes. “Please?” she added hopefully.

“Perhaps when you’re done, Miss Harker,” Rick said with a cold smile. His job today was to tease, frustrate and exhaust the girl. It was an assignment he relished. The trick would be to push Belle to the edge without her saying her safe word.

Belle wanted to protest, but a strip of bacon was pressed to her lips. She nearly choked on it as the fork in Sandor’s other hand began making circles around her nipples. Belle swallowed hurriedly. “I-I don’t think you should do that,” she gasped.

In response Rick pressed the tines of the fork against her pink bud. “Ahh, fuck,” Belle cried out. She jerked against the straps at the sharp sensation.

“You were saying, Miss Harker?”

“N-nothing,” she panted. “Just go back to what you were doing.”

“As you wish, Miss,” was the flat reply. The fork resumed its circling path.

“Could I have more eggs, please?” Belle was so aroused it was hard to think about the food. But if she could get her captor to feed her instead of tease her perhaps she wouldn’t start begging him to let her cum.

Belle was sipping her coffee when Rick decided to drag the fork over her swollen labia. The yelp of surprise sent the warm liquid spilling down her chest. “Oh shit,” she gasped as the sharp tines dragged lines of fire over her sex.

“Oh fuck, please,” Belle moaned. “I can’t do this, please.” There was an edge of panic in her voice. She’d never been kept on edge like that before. She felt like she would agree to anything for release at that point.

Her tormentor seemed unmoved. He delicately put the fork aside. Taking up a napkin Sandor began blotting the spilled coffee from her skin. “You must be patient, Miss Harker. The Countess is so looking forward to having you for dinner.” He carefully soaked up the remaining coffee, pressing lightly between Belle’s breasts. As he cleaned carefully between her legs the feral groan that escaped Belle’s lips made him smile.

Belle watched helplessly as Sandor gathered up the remains of her breakfast. She struggled anew as he walked from the room, leaving her alone with the vibrator’s feathery touch. She anxiously pondered his parting comment about dinner. Did he mean to keep her like this all day, and was she going to be a guest at dinner or the entrée?

At least Rick had left the candelabrum. Granted, it was almost impossible for Belle to look around, but she wasn’t trapped in the darkness. She shuddered at the memory of being chained to the wall as the candle had guttered out. Why was she letting them do this to her? Was she really the stupid girl in the horror movie who knows the lights are out in the creepy basement but goes down anyway?

Before she could find an answer Sandor was back. He carried a pair of high heeled shoes in his hands. “It’s time for you to dress for the day,” he said simply as he knelt at Belle’s feet.

Belle felt the straps removed from her ankles. Her knees were still bound to the chair so it made little difference in her situation. The curious thing was the way Sandor was manipulating her feet. He repeatedly rolled her ankle, then pointed her toes straight down to the floor. He did this several times with each foot. If she wasn’t horny and frustrated it would have felt like a pleasant foot massage.

The cool touch of leather interrupted Belle’s thoughts. Her captor was slipping the shoe over her foot. The shoe felt deep. She waited for her foot to turn at the bottom, only to find that it didn’t. Instead, it kept her foot perfectly straight with her toes pointing down.

Laces were pulled, closing the leather around her foot, erasing the arch. “What is that? It feels weird?”

“It’s called a ballet heel, Miss Harker. You’ll find them quite interesting to wear.” Rick moved to her other foot. He quickly slipped her foot inside and laced it up.

Belle tried to wiggle her feet in the shoes. She now understood why Rick had massaged her feet. He was stretching them in preparation for the strict embrace of the shoes. Already Belle could feel the strain of the awkward position.

Rick was not idle while Belle adjusted to her new footwear. He made a trip to the pegboard full of gear, selecting several items. Dropping them with a clatter on the metal table Rick released her wrists from their straps, only to bind them together with a leather strap.

Belle felt a sense of relief as Rick removed the straps from her head and neck. That relief was short-lived as he took up a ring gag from the table. Rubber coated steel pressed past her teeth, wedging her mouth open as she issued a garbled protest.

“I believe that will do quite nicely, Miss Harker,” Rick said. “Now we shall give you a break from the chair for a while.” He began by pushing the vibrator out of the way. The straps came off in rapid succession, although he left the posture collar in place.

“On your feet, Miss Harker,” came the command as Belle was hauled from the chair. She staggered as the weight of her body pressed her toes to the ground. “Hi han’t,” was her garbled protest. Without Rick’s arm she would have surely fallen.

“It’s all a matter of practice, Miss,” Sandor instructed as he moved her away from the chair. “Bend your knees a bit. You’ll find it helps.”

Belle did as she was told. Her stumbles gradually reduced to wobbles as she was led across the dungeon. She was far from graceful, but at least she wasn’t falling on her face.

So focused was she on mastering her new shoes that Belle hadn’t noticed where her captor was leading her. They stopped before the mysterious locked door at the side of the room. She watched curiously as a key was produced and the heavy oak door opened.

Belle had anticipated some secondary room, or perhaps a side exit. What she saw was a narrow cell, complete with a metal barred door. She voiced a useless protest as Sandor pulled open the metal bars and pushed her unceremoniously inside.

Belle caught the stone walls to support herself as the metal door clanged shut behind her. It might have been a closet once. But they had obviously revamped it, lining the walls with faux stone paneling. The overall result was a narrow, stone walled prison.

When she turned to face him Rick was fitting a heavy padlock to the door. “This should give you a measure of freedom, Miss Harker. If you’d be so kind as to slide your arms through the bars I will free your wrists.”

Belle didn’t have to be told twice. With her hands free she could get the gag out of her mouth, take off the ridiculous shoes and maybe even take care of the itch that the damned vibrator had left her. She leaned against the bars, pushing through the opening up to her elbows.

Her eager trust proved to be her undoing. Rick caught her bound wrists, pulling them until Belle was pressed against the bars of her cell. From a pocket he pulled a leather strap. Ignoring Belle’s struggles he wrapped it through the bars and around her elbows, pinning her to the cell door.

Just inside the closet door was a twelve inch steel rod. Rick retrieved it before reaching through the bars to catch the D ring on Belle’s collar. He pulled, bringing Belle’s face up against the bars. The steel rod was slipped through the D ring, trapping her there.

“Unnh,” Belle protested. Her upper body was bound to the cell door. Her feet scrabbled for purchase in her pointed shoes. And the evil Sandor was walking back to the metal table for god knew what.

The metal table rattled noisily as Rick dragged it over to the makeshift cell. Belle was pinned to the bars of the cell like a butterfly on a board. Stepping in close he reached out to stroke her breasts. The little moan she gave as he stroked her nipples raised a bulge in his pants.

Belle couldn’t pull away as her breasts were kneaded and pulled. They bulged against the cold metal bars. The arousal that had been fading was kindled back to a roaring flame. If he would only slip his hands between her legs! She pushed her hips forward, inviting his touch.

Seeing her nipples pucker and harden Rick stopped his teasing. They were ready for what he wanted. He was quite sure Belle had never before experienced what was to come, so he would have to be gentle.

Belle’s eyes widened as she saw the tweezer clamps lifted from the table. She wanted to shake her head ‘no’, but her face was wedged too firmly against the bars. All she could manage was a garbled, “Oh, eese!”

If anything her frightened protest made Rick even more excited to try the toys on her. They were his most benign clamps, with little rubber pads on the end. They were nothing like the harsh cloverleafs that he tormented Jill with.

Belle struggled, trying to pull her breast away from the approaching clamp. It was only when Rick caught her bud between his thumb and forefinger that she stilled. She trembled as she felt the jaws sandwich her swollen bud. “That’s a good girl,” Rick crooned as he moved the slider up the clamp.

Shutting her eyes tight Belle tried to fight the pain. It reached a point where she simply had to cry out, “ello!” The pressure eased slightly and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Elated that Rick still acknowledged her safe word, Belle accepted the other clamp stoically. She didn’t like having her nipples clamped, but it was at least bearable. When he slid the steel rod from her collar’s D ring Belle was free to move her face and chest away from the cell door. Each clamp had a delicate silver bell at the end. They tinkled merrily as she moved.

Things looked even better to Belle when the strap binding her wrists was removed. If Rick released her hands she would be able to at least adjust the clamps, even if he demanded that she keep them on.

Her bright outlook dimmed as her captor lifted a black leather object from the table. She watched in confusion as he caught her hand, forcing it inside the leather mitten. The inside was lined with soft sheepskin. The outside was adorned with a series of wicked looking studs that each ended in a sharp point. A heavy locking buckle secured it to her wrist.

When Belle’s other hand was similarly encased Rick removed the strap from her elbows. She quickly pulled her hands back through the bars before he could inflict some new torment upon her. In her haste Belle brushed one hand against her naked thigh. “Ow,” she yowled wordlessly. The studs were definitely sharp.

Satisfied with his work, Rick pulled one candle from the candelabrum. Dripping a pool of wax on the floor just inside the door he seated the taper in it. “I hope you have a pleasant morning Miss Harker,” he said.

Belle watched in shock as he stepped from the closet, closing the door behind him. “Oh, um ack,” she garbled. She lunged for the bars desperately, the metal studs on her mittens making a series of metallic pings. The only response to her plea was the sound of a key turning in the lock.

The candle burned with a steady flame. The stone walls and heavy oak door deadened any sound that might have reached her. Belle didn’t know if Rick sat just outside the door, or if he had left the dungeon playroom altogether. She couldn’t even begin to guess how long he planned to leave her locked up in there.

Belle looked down at the clamps on her nipples. The stiff collar restricted her view, but in the wan light they looked swollen and purple. She raised her hands, trying to decide if she could slip the clamps off. She carefully maneuvered her mittened hands in close, hoping to catch the slider that would release them.

The scrape of a steel point dragging across her breast made Belle jump. She gave an inarticulate curse. Had she cut herself? It was impossible to see. But the spot burned. She dropped her hands in frustration, only to feel the sharp studs rake her thighs. “Od ammit,” she cursed.

The mittens were a unique form of torture. Belle had the freedom to move her arms wherever she chose. But any thoughtless movement ran the risk of inflicting pain. She could do nothing to remove her gag, the nipple clamps or the shoes laced tightly on her feet.

Just thinking about her feet brought back the feelings of discomfort. Her toes were crushed in the tips of the shoes and her calves ached from the stance she had to maintain to remain upright. Worse still, the narrow closet/cell she was trapped in was too narrow to allow her to sit.

Leaning tiredly against the rough stone Belle felt something warm and wet strike her chest. She almost reached up to brush it away before she caught herself. With a flush of embarrassment Belle realized it was her own saliva. The ring gag was sending her salivary glands into overdrive and she had forgotten to make the conscious effort to swallow.

The only way Belle could mark the passage of time was by the candle that sat on the floor outside her cell. How long did a candle last, she wondered? And when it went out would Rick come back for her, or would she be abandoned in the darkness? What were those places in ancient castles called-an oubliette?

Belle’s tired mind wandered into all the dark spaces it could find. She imagined being left alone until her legs gave out and her body wedged against the hard stone. Or perhaps her friends were actually some wickedly sensuous vampire and her evil henchman. The thought of Jill climbing over her bound form reawakened the feelings between Belle’s thighs. She had to remind herself that touching herself in with the spiky mittens would be catastrophic.

And so Belle waited. Toes aching, saliva running down her chest and nipples throbbing she shifted about in the narrow cell. The melting candle wax puddled on the floor as the taper shrank inexorably.

As the candle began to sputter Belle pressed herself to the bar of her cell. The little bells tinkled cheerfully as she pressed herself against the cold steel. A frantic whimper escaped her as the flame sputtered. She stared at it, willing it to keep burning.

With a final pop the flame died. Belle let out a despairing wail. Darkness smothered her like a thick blanket. She was afraid to move, afraid that her weaponized hands would gouge her flesh through some unconscious action.

In the darkness there was the sound of metal studs scraping against the bar as Belle gripped them through her mittens. It was better than the silence that engulfed her, broken only by Belle’s own ragged breaths. Happy for almost any noise, she shook her chest, letting the little bells there tinkle out their lonely song.

How long did she stand there in the dark? It seemed like days to Belle. When a gleam of light appeared at the base of the outer door she nearly sobbed for joy. Someone was coming to rescue her!

The light from Sandor’s candelabrum nearly blinded her. Belle could feel tears of relief welling up in her eyes. She had to remind herself not to brush them away. But he had come for her! She was not forgotten! In that moment she knew she would do anything for this man.

“I appear to be running a bit behind my time,” came the flat voice. “I do hope you haven’t minded the wait, Miss Harker.” He set the candles down. “If you would be so kind as to slide your hands through the bars?”

The studded mitts were a discordant xylophone as Belle thrust her hands forward. She winced as her clamped nipples brushed against the bars. But none of that mattered. Here was rescue.

Locks clicked, buckles pulled and Belle’s hands shed their spiky chrysalis. The iron door creaked open and she staggered forward into the arms of her rescuer. Toes and calves wailed in protest, but Belle would have crawled out of the cell on hands and knees if necessary.

She was half carried across the gloomy space to the sinister chair. Once an object of teasing and torment, now a welcome oasis as Belle’s naked backside sank into cool leather. Her gag was removed, a bottle of water pressed to her lips. She clutched it warily, half expecting to find vicious spikes protruding from her skin. But the water brought relief to a parched mouth that had drooled itself dry.

When Sandor removed her shoes Belle expected to see ruined and bloodied toes. She groaned as her feet were finally allowed to flex from their rigid posture. Almost afraid to look, Belle raised one foot. Her toes were pink, but not the terrible mess she thought they would be.

While Belle examined her toes Sandor moved to the back of her chair. She felt the straps encircle her posture collar once again but didn’t care. He could strap her down as tight as he pleased. She was out of her oubliette and she was off her toes. Little else mattered.

It was only when the chest straps tightened about her breasts that Belle gave a thought to the purplish nubs her nipples had become. “God, my tits,” Belle groaned.

She was not alone in her assessment, for a moment later a hand clamped itself over her mouth. “I do apologize for the coming discomfort, Miss Harker,” Sandor said. With his free hand he released the first clamp.

Blood rushed back into her crushed nipple. It brought with it the sharp pins and needles of returning circulation. Belle squealed into the hand that covered her mouth, sucking desperate gulps of air through her nose. Tears started at the corner of her eyes.

Sandor’s hand was on her breast, gently massaging. Belle’s breathing eased as the pain faded, replaced with those early beginnings of arousal. The hand came off her mouth, only to be replaced with his other hand as attention shifted to the remaining clamp.

The process was similar, but at least Belle knew what to expect. She still cried out and would have made one hell of a racket had she not been so effectively hand gagged. When all was said and done her nipples throbbed, but in that bizarre blend of discomfort and arousal. She would probably be going braless for a day or so, she thought.

“Allow me to finish setting you up for lunch,” Sandor said.

Belle heard the creak of the gooseneck clamp beneath her seat. The head of the vibrator pressed firmly against her sex. She felt a little thrill of excitement at that. Perhaps this time she’d actually get to climax?

But when the toy was turned on, Belle’s heart sank. Her captor had set it at the very lowest setting. Yes, it was in full contact-no light feathery touch this time. But she knew the oscillations would be insufficient to get her off. “Oh please,” she moaned plaintively.

Sandor’s only response was to bow slightly. “I shall go and prepare your lunch, Miss.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

Belle’s relief at being out of her cell was seeping away as she tested her restraints. She knew from before that she couldn’t escape. But it just seemed wrong to sit there passively. Besides, there was always the chance that straining against her bonds in conjunction with the low throb of the vibrator would yield some results.

At least Sandor had left the candelabrum. Belle really didn’t want to be left in the dark again. And although her collar was strapped to the back of the chair, he had neglected the strap across her forehead. That gave her a slightly better range of movement.

When lunch arrived Belle was well on her way to being a quivering mess. She felt as if her lips had swollen to twice their size. The head of the vibrator was slick with her juices. Her body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

“I trust I haven’t kept you waiting too long, Miss Harker,” Sandor said as he pulled over the metal table. A steaming bowl of soup was placed upon it.

Belle licked her lips. “Please just turn up the vibe for a few minutes, Sir. I really need to cum.” She saw the look on his face, as if he was considering her plea.

“I’m afraid the Countess wouldn’t approve, Miss Harker. Do try and focus on your lunch.” He pushed the tray over, lowering it over her lap.

“She wouldn’t have to know,” Belle pleaded. “I wouldn’t tell her!”

Sandor’s response was a return to the peg board. Belle couldn’t see what he was after, but when he returned he had a short length of chain and one of the leather cuffs she had worn the night before.

Belle was confused as her right hand was unstrapped from the arm of the chair. The leather cuff was wrapped around her wrist, locked with a padlock and the short chain. It was only when the other end of the chain was attached to the D ring of her collar and the soup spoon placed in her hand that Belle understood.

“Bon appetit, Miss Harker,” Sandor said with a slight bow. “I shall return to attend to your needs shortly.” With that he turned on his heel and left the dungeon, locking the door behind him.

Staring at her hand as if it belonged to someone else Belle slowly lowered the spoon. The chain allowed her just enough reach to dip into the bowl. But she wasn’t interested in food at that moment. Thoughts of escape filled her mind.

Belle’s self bondage games had always had an escape. It was the very nature of the game that you had to be able to free yourself at the end. And thought Belle often made it very difficult for herself, there was always an out.

Now, with one hand partially free she saw that same opportunity. Her first thought was to free her left hand. Careful not to upset the tray before her she reached for the buckle at her wrist. Her fingers lightly brushed the buckle. Her right arm was still fastened to the chair at the elbow, leaving her left hand just out of reach.

If her right elbow was free then she would be well on her way to escaping. But her hand simply couldn’t flex at such an acute angle. With a frustrated sigh Belle directed her attention to the straps that sandwiched her breasts. Unable to look down due to her stiff collar she worked her fingers blindly along the straps. Belle winced as the cuff brushed against her still tender nipple.

“Where’s the fucking buckle,” Belle growled as her hand explored the leather straps. She thought it was on the far side of her chest, just beyond her reach. In reality Rick had designed the chair with the buckles in the back of the chair. The tag end of the strap was fed through the opening in the backrest. Even with both hands free it would be impossible to remove the chest and hip straps.

After exploring the straps that held her neck to the chair Belle was forced to admit defeat. The growl of her stomach brought her attention back to the soup her captor had left her. With a sigh of resignation she picked up the spoon and began to eat.

There is a simple truth to eating soup; most people raise their spoon, but lean their heads forward to avoid spilling. With her collar strapped to the chair Belle did not have that option. She was forced to sit in perfect posture, carefully raising the spoon to her mouth.

The entire process was made more difficult by the chain on her wrist and the repetitive thrumming of the vibrator between her legs. More than once the hot liquid slopped out of the spoon, making her hiss as it spattered her chest. By the time she was finished there was a stream of broth running all the way to her crotch.

When the bowl was empty Belle dropped the spoon onto the tray. She pushed the rattling metal stand away as far as her limited reach allowed. Her stomach no longer demanded her attention, but her needy sex did.

Sandor was nowhere to be seen. Keeping her eyes on the heavy oak door Belle slipped her hand down towards her legs. She felt like a naughty teenager sneaking in some illicit exploration. A tug on her wrist and collar made her blink.

Belle raised her hand before her face in disbelief. She reached down again, only to be brought up short. “Oh fuck!” she growled. The purpose of the chain was not to prevent her escape Belle realized, it was to keep her from finding any sort of sexual release. Try as she might her fingers were mere inches from her pussy and the slowly throbbing vibrator.

With the disappointment of being thwarted Belle’s fatigue came rushing back. She let her shackled hand hang limply, ignoring the pull from her collar. Her labia felt puffy and swollen from the constant teasing. Discomfort supplanted arousal.

Belle’s head tipped forward as she dosed. But the stiff collar bit into her jaw, forcing her awake. She was so tired. When had she slept last? Certainly not since Sandor had taken charge of her. There were snatches of sleep between her servicing of the Countess-but no truly restorative sleep.

By the time Sandor reappeared with his flat smile Belle was in no mood. In response to his solicitous inquiry about lunch she flipped him the bird with her free hand, adding “Fuck you!” for good measure.

“You seem fatigued, Miss Harker. Perhaps you should lie down and rest a bit?”

The very thought of being able to lie down was like a vision of heaven. Belle put up no resistance as the now familiar leather cuffs were secured around her ankles. Her left wrist was freed from the arm of the chair and cuffed to her right. Belle figured that even chained spread eagle on the bed was better than having to stand in that tiny cell again.

But when the remaining straps were removed Belle found herself pulled not towards the bed, but to the far end of the dungeon. She started a fruitless fight against her captor. He simply buried his fist in her hair. The sharp pull on her scalp took her breath away.

“This way, if you please Miss Harker,” came the calm voice of her tormentor. Perhaps the calm, matter of fact tone was one of the most unnerving things about him. It was as if dragging a naked, shackled woman through the dungeon was routine for him.

Their journey ended before the spanking bench. Belle had recognized it from pictures she had seen, but hadn’t really taken time to closely examine it. Now she was getting a close up view.

Sandor pushed her feet wide, hooking her ankle cuffs to the A-frame legs of the bench. The top was padded in red leather, brass nails running along the edges. Belle wondered at the semicircular cut outs in the top until Sandor pushed her torso down onto the leather. Her breasts slipped easily into the openings, allowing them to hang below the top. Leather straps were passed from beneath the bench across her waist and back, securing her in place.

Belle started to panic as her wrists were separated. Each was pulled down onto the front legs of the bench and secured there. “Uh hey, I’m sorry if I was rude to you. I-I didn’t mean to be. You really don’t have to do this.”

The Countess had been absolutely wicked with the flogger. How much worse would Sandor be? Belle’s innards turned to water at the thought. She tugged frantically at her restraints, twisting about on the bench.

Sandor’s placid response was to add to her bondage. Leather straps were a built-in feature of the bench. Belle’s thighs and upper arms were strapped firmly to the legs. With every one cinched tight her mobility decreased. The final straps ran along the side of the bench where the breast cutouts were. As those straps were tightened they squeezed Belle’s breasts at their bases, further trapping them.

“Oh god, please-please don’t,” Belle cried as she struggled.

“Now, now Miss Harker,” came the same flat voice. “There really is no need to carry on so. This should help quiet your nerves.”

Belle could see Sandor’s finely polished shoes on the floor before her. The stiff collar limited her view of anything else. But then there was a large fleshy dildo before her face. It seemed to be on some sort of L shaped bracket. The toy pressed against her face as Sandor attached it to the front of the bench.

Grabbing hold of Belle’s hair, Sandor pulled her head up and away from the dildo. She groaned at the collar biting into the back of her neck and the strain on her vertebrae. Her head was lowered, the fleshy silicone coming up to meet her face.

Belle turned her head slightly, the head of the fake cock dragging across her cheek. Her reward for the effort was to have her head pulled back once more. “Ahh,” she cried out. But the message was clear. Her captor had no qualms about yanking her into that neck breaking arch until she accepted the thing. When her head was lowered once more Belle opened her mouth, inviting the intruder inside.

The fake cock filled Belle’s mouth as her head was lowered. Sandor made an adjustment, sliding it a bit deeper into her oral cavity. It was only when she began to retch that he stopped, withdrawing it slightly. He then tightened the L-bracket, securing it in place.

Belle tried to adjust to this new indignity. As if the posture collar wasn’t enough of an incentive to keep her head up, now if she let it fall forward the dildo would push deeper into her throat. She could feel her salivary glands kicking in, trying to coat the strange object in her mouth.

Her captor stepped away, leaving Belle to struggle against her new restraints. If she could raise her head she might be able to dislodge the dildo filling her mouth. Although Sandor had easily forced her head back, Belle found that using her own neck muscles was insufficient for the task. She strained her neck but in the end her head fell forward, gagging her as the phallus lodged in the back of her throat.

Belle did her best to analyze her situation. Surely there must be some weakness in the spanking bench that she could exploit? But her limbs were securely strapped to the legs of the bench, and the straps across her back were unyielding. Worse still, the straps that encircled her breasts cut off enough of her circulation that they had begun to engorge.

She heard Sandor before she could see him. He stood at the far end of the bench, where Belle was splayed open to his view. She heard the tinny sound of metal before she felt the bulbous head of the vibrator brush her sex. Her lips were so tender from the previous session that she cried out at the lightest touch of the toy. A metal clamp locked it in place.

“Ahhh,” Belle cried in distress as the vibrator sprang to life. She twisted her hips, trying to escape the feathery touch. “Eease, ot uhgain,” she moaned, causing a little river of drool to run down the dildo’s shaft.

Sandor watched Belle’s struggles dispassionately. He was like a scientist watching some experiment to see where it could be improved. After stepping to the peg board he returned with two additional leather straps. These he placed high up on Belle’s thighs, just below her butt cheeks. He cinched them tight, further restraining his captive.

Belle felt the straps biting into her flesh. Her best efforts to escape the teasing vibrator proved fruitless. She was strapped down too tightly to raise her hips and escape its touch. It was then that she hit upon a desperate idea.

Tightening her abs Belle flexed her hips. The padded surface of the bench gave the slightest bit as it compressed. But it was enough for her to press herself down on the oscillating orb. Stifling a whine Belle waited for her pleasure to override the pain.

A sudden burst of pain lancing across her naked backside caused Belle to scream. Jerking against her straps she felt lines of fire across her tender flesh. Over her shoulder Belle heard the maddeningly calm voice of her captor.

“I'm sorry, Miss Harker. That sort of behavior simply isn’t allowed.”

Belle heard a frightening “swoosh,” before her backside was stung by a million angry hornets. She screamed again, biting into her gag, wishing it was his cock she was clamping down on.

“I’m afraid I must take corrective measures.” Swish-thwack,” came the voice of the flogger.

Belle gritted her teeth and clenched her fists as blow after blow landed. The flogger the Countess had tormented her with was a delicate thing, bringing heat wherever it touched. The one Sandor employed landed with a heavier thudding impact that jarred her. Each impact drove her down on the teasing vibrator. Each blow seemed to thrust the dildo deeper into her throat.

After what seemed an eternity the beating ceased. Belle’s limbs trembled in their restraints. A veritable river of saliva ran down the dildo’s shaft to puddle on the floor. She couldn’t decide which burned more, her freshly flogged cheeks or her overused pussy.

All that Belle knew for certain was that she would not make the mistake of trying to cum in Sandor’s presence again. She had never in her life been so thoroughly destroyed in a bondage session and was in no hurry to repeat it.

But fatigue has a way of undermining our resolve. Belle had lost all sense of time as she straddled the spanking bench. She fantasized of the luxurious bed with its satin sheets. Even the chair with its many straps seemed a haven of peace compared to her current predicament.

The sudden touch of the dildo in the back of her throat pulled Belle back to the here and now. She had dosed, letting her head fall forward that critical distance. She would have to stay focused to avoid being gagged by the toy. But she was so tired! When had she actually slept last?

Apparently Sandor thought she needed a wake-up call as well. He had discarded the heavy flogger in favor of a black riding crop. Belle could see the thin tapping lightly against the man’s highly polished shoes as he circled her.

Belle let out a strangled whimper as the crop’s leather tip gently stroked her face. “Now Miss Harker, you simply must maintain proper posture,” the voice purred. A light tap on her cheek made her flinch. It played along her chin, outlined the lips wrapped around the dildo. Belle closed her eyes and tried not to tremble.

Sandor changed his position, dragging his toy over Belle’s naked back. She felt the cool leather as it slipped down her side. It found her breast, bound tightly to the side of the bench. With her other challenges Belle had been able to largely ignore her bound and swollen breasts. But the touch of the crop reminded her how sensitive they had become.

The touch of the leather was almost pleasant as it sawed across her nipple. Like the bow of a violin it played back and forth. The nipple responded to its touch, puckering and hardening. She couldn’t see what was happening, but to Belle it felt that her breasts had swollen to twice their normal size.

The teasing of her nipple brought on the desire to grind her pelvis against the vibrator once again. But before she could act on the rash impulse the riding crop changed its tempo. No longer did it gently stroke her. In a move that made her yelp the leather tip flicked across her hardened nub.

Belle tried to pull away. But her breasts had filled with enough blood that the straps held them immobile. Pulling against them brought no relief. She could do nothing as her nipple was struck repeatedly, sending electric shocks through her body.

When he tired of Belle’s left breast Rick moved to the right. Although he’d had Jill on the spanking bench plenty of times Belle was a fresh canvas for him. He was enjoying letting his ‘inner sadist’ come out and play. And Belle had responded beautifully. She was so worn and exhausted that he wondered if she even knew it was a game anymore.

Belle’s mind drifted as the riding crop played across her body. More insidious than the flogger, it seemed to slip into her most intimate spaces. She thought she might climax as the tip flicked around the vibrator’s throbbing head. But it was there only to torment, not provide release. By the time Sandor stopped she was panting in a sweat of frustrated arousal.

Her body humming like a plucked harp string, Belle waited for the next delicious torture. Tired eyes opened in surprise as Sandor’s hands manipulated the bracket holding the dildo. She steeled herself for the evil toy to be shoved deeper into her throat. But instead it was drawn, wet and glistening from her mouth.

Belle gasped out her thanks. Her head sagged slightly, the stiff collar biting into her chin. She felt a rush of affection for the man that eased her torment. Her surprise redoubled when she felt the heavy collar being removed. At last she could move her tired muscles. Even bound to the spanking bench Belle knew that she loved the man who had shown her this kindness.

As the collar fell away strong hands turned Belle’s head. Tight muscles protested the move. Belle found herself facing her captor’s engorged cock. ‘Funny,’ she thought to herself, ‘I didn’t even hear him unzip.’

A jewel of pre-cum wet her lips as the head of his cock brushed against them. Belle opened her mouth, welcoming the intrusion. And why not, hadn’t he removed the collar from her neck and pulled the choking dildo from her mouth? It was the least she could do to show her gratitude.

Belle opened her mouth, welcoming the intruder. The throbbing cock slid slowly in, each ripple and vein felt by her tongue. A hand gripped her hair. Only when she gagged did the advance stop.

Having gauged her tolerance Rick began to use her mouth in earnest. Gripping her hair, he pulled Belle’s mouth down onto his shaft. A satisfied groan escaped him as she wrapped her lips around his cock.

Belle did her best to please. She worked her tongue over his cock, tasting his flesh. With every thrust its head hit the back of her throat. With every lunge she would gag, making a little “Urp” sound that only seemed to excite him more.

She felt a rush of warmth as he shot into the back of her throat. Being kind and merciful, he pulled back, allowing Belle to swallow his cum as it filled her mouth. Knowing that this would please him, she tried to catch every little bit, even though some slipped past her lips to drip onto the floor.

“Well done, Miss Harker,” Sandor said as he pulled away from her. “But the hour is late. We must prepare you for dinner with the Countess.”

Belle’s arms hung tiredly as the straps were released. She had no idea what being prepared for dinner would mean in the mad dream her life had become. Part of her imagined a fancy ball gown, the other thought it might involve being basted and seasoned. All she really knew was that it felt wonderful to be able to move again.

Having her legs released and the incessantly teasing vibrator taken away was both a relief and a disappointment. Belle had been on the edge of an orgasm for so long that she was probably too tender to even think of climaxing. It was a hollow ache inside her, like wishing for a beach day on a rainy winter morning.

Getting up from the bench was probably the worst. Belle had to pull her swollen breasts from the bench’s cut outs. She whimpered as the rounded nail heads that held the leather cover dragged across her skin. When she was on her feet Sandor guided her to the bathroom.

In the bathroom Belle was allowed to relieve herself under the watchful eye of her captor. From there she was led into the red tiled shower. She stood passively as ropes were tied to each wrist. She was too tired to resist as the ropes were attached to hooks in the tiled wall, forcing Belle’s arms up over her head.

Belle screeched as the water was turned on. It was shockingly cold. The frigid water jerked her out of her stupor and she twisted her body to avoid the chilly spray.

As the water gradually warmed Belle caught sight of Sandor slipping out of his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves. When he slipped on a rubber apron Belle’s heart froze. She had a black and white nightmare vision of blood sluicing down the drain.

But instead of a butcher knife her captor picked up a bottle of body wash and a scrub brush. The brush was a stiff bristled thing. Belle winced as the soapy bristles assaulted her skin. When Sandor commanded that she spread her legs “to be properly cleaned for the Mistress,” Belle nearly balked. But she could well imagine that in a struggle with the aproned man and his bristly implement that she would come out the worse for it.

Closing her eyes Belle opened herself up to the gentle torture. The bristles brushed lightly against her sex, pricking her like a thousand tiny bees. She bit her lip to stifle a whimper as she was intimately bathed.

Belle’s skin was bright pink and tingling by the time Sandor pronounced her clean. Still bound to the shower wall, she endured the sudden chill as the water cut off. That in turn was followed by a thorough rub down with a rough towel. Her body tingled, as if a constant electric current was applied to her skin.

Ignoring the wet patches on his trousers where the water had dripped off his apron, Rick took up a hair brush and blow dryer. Leaving Belle’s arms tethered to the shower walls he proceeded to dry and brush Belle’s brunette curls. He finished by pulling her hair up into a high ponytail that was secured with a white satin ribbon.

Belle watched carefully as her captor brought out a small makeup case. She could imagine all sorts of nasty little instruments to be hidden within. But when Sandor opened it there was only makeup inside. She drew back slightly as a tube of red lipstick was brought to her lips. It was then that she discovered that her ponytail was functional as well as decorative. Sandor’s meaty hand grabbed, holding her immobile as he colored her lips a vibrant red.

Knowing there was no point in further resistance Bell stood quiescent as her cheeks were rouged and her eyes adorned with smoky blue shadows. She was rather surprised that a man could be so adept at applying makeup, but perhaps he had practiced on Jill in the past? Belle was curious to get a look in the mirror at the result.

Rick closed the case with a businesslike air. He left Belle suspended from the shower hooks as he stepped out of the room. She had only a moment to contemplate what would come next when he returned, a stack of white clothing in his hands, along with contrasting black leather cuffs.

Rick checked his watch. As much as he was enjoying Belle’s helplessness he needed to keep things moving. For the game to work he needed her in the living room before the sun set. Untying one of Belle’s wrists he presented her with a lacey white glove. “Put this on, Miss Harker,” he said flatly.

Belle couldn’t see much point in refusing his request. She held out her hand as the sheer lace was pulled up to her elbow. The glove’s delicate flower pattern highlighted her pink skin beneath. It was a blend of elegance and eroticism.

When the glove was in place Rick buckled a leather cuff around Belle’s wrist. He then attached the D ring to the hook in the shower wall. Moments later her other hand received the same treatment.

With her hands secured Rick turned his attention to Belle’s legs. He unwrapped a pair of sheer white nylons. Balling them up around his fingers he commanded Belle to present her foot to him. He worked the stocking slowly up her leg, sending messages of arousal to her brain that battled with fatigue and anxiety. The sheer hosiery was followed by a white pump with a four inch heel. The ankle strap at the back secured it to her foot.

Belle shifted uneasily on the narrow heel as Rick dressed her other leg. His passionless approach to something that should have been extremely erotic chilled her. His preparations were too precise, too meticulous. She was being prepared for something, but she had no idea what.

“Uh, Rick, what are we doing here?” Belle asked querulously.

“My name is Sandor, Miss Harker,” Rick said as he stood. From the pile on the sink he pulled out a ball gag. “And we have no time for questions if you’re to join the Countess for dinner.”

Belle’s protest was cut off as a white ball was pressed into her mouth. She twisted in her bonds as the strap was buckled. The ball pressed deep into her mouth as Rick tightened the strap and buckled it in place.

Concerned as she was with the ball prying her mouth open, Belle failed to notice the garment in Rick’s hands until he slipped under her arm to come up behind her. His hands encircled Belle’s waist, snaking a white satin corset around her.

Quietly businesslike, Rick reached around Belle’s waist, hooking the steel busks together. “Shallow breaths if you please, Miss Harker,” he said dispassionately.

It was all the warning Belle got before the laces were pulled. Having never worn an actual corset she was shocked to feel the pressure on her torso as Rick pulled on the laces. And though Rick’s “Sandor” persona seemed indifferent, he was taking the job of corset lacing quite seriously.

It was such a bizarre feeling for Belle to stand there, her arms tethered up out of the way. There would be a series of little tugs as Rick’s fingers pulled on each individual lace, taking out the slack. Then there would follow the hard pull as he gathered all those little bits into one. It was a process repeated multiple times, slowly crushing her midsection in the process.

By the time Sandor declared her “fit for dinner” Belle was panting. The corset had shallow cups that covered only the bottom third of her breasts, forcing them up provocatively. Her waist was tapered to a size she hadn’t seen since high school. She might have enjoyed the sexy look if she could achieve it and still breathe.

Seeing the distressed look in her eyes, Sandor softened his tone slightly. “Have no fear, Miss Harker. Your body will adjust to it,” he said as he ran his hand over her waist. “And we’re almost ready to take you to dinner.”

Belle tried to control her panic as her breath wheezed in and out. The ball gag wedged in her mouth didn’t help matters. But seeing the diminished clothing pile on the vanity let her know that her captor was telling the truth. Whatever her apparently insane friends were planning seemed to be approaching its climax. She thought once again of her safe word. But if Sandor didn’t honor it then she would truly know she was doomed. It was better to simply wait-and hope.

Stepping back to the sink Rick picked up a length of white satin ribbon. He stepped up to the helpless girl and draped it over her neck. Her wide, dilated eyes told him that Belle was barely keeping her fear in check. He gave her a less than reassuring smile as he wound the ribbon around her throat.

Belle suppressed a whimper as the ribbon was knotted around her neck. It wasn’t tight enough to cut off her air, but she doubted she could slip more than a pinkie finger under it. She felt Sandor’s fingers working as he fashioned the free ends into a decorative bow.

“And a final touch, Miss Harker,” Rick said as he grabbed the last item from the vanity.

As he shook out the sheer white fabric Belle’s mind tried to correlate what it actually was. But when Sandor draped it over her head, pinning it to her hair she knew. It was a wedding veil. It trailed down her back, ending just below her exposed backside. Belle felt an irrational terror welling up inside her as Sandor draped the front of the veil down over her face. ‘What the fuck!’ her tired brain shrieked.

Rick’s final act was to adjust Belle’s stockings, hooking them to her corset’s garter straps. He proceeded to free Belle’s leather cuffs from the wall hooks.

Belle watched numbly as her hands were shackled together before her. A length of chain was added, which Sandor took charge of as he led her out of the shower. As she passed the sink, Belle glanced at the image in the mirror. Beneath the veil large waif-like eyes, offset by the red wantonness of her gagged lips stared back at her. The corset twisted her body into a sort of hyper sexualized fetish bride. She might have found it arousing if her insides weren’t melting with fear.

Moving along behind her captor Belle eyed the dungeon with its large and inviting bed. Where would he take her? Was there some new implement of restraint that she’d soon be lashed to?

To her surprise their path took them past the bed and up to the heavy oak door that sealed the dungeon off from the rest of the house. Belle watched in growing excitement as Rick produced a key. The lock turned, a heavy “click” in the silent room. She was getting out!

Excitement turned to dismay as Belle was led into the living room. Late afternoon sunlight filtered weakly through boarded up windows. The furniture still had their eerie white sheets covering them, except for one item in the center of the room.

Belle was dragged, stumbling towards a large wooden X in the center of the abandoned living room. Although she had seen images online this was the first time she had ever seen a St. Andrew’s cross in person. Its dark finish seemed to drink in the light. The metal rings at the end of each limb glowed weakly in the fading light. In the center of the X there was a diamond shaped pad of blood red leather.

Rick pulled Belle’s cuffed wrists over her head. Despite her struggles he easily fed the chain through one of the upper rings, fastening it there with a padlock. With an efficiency born of repetition he caught her left ankle, dragging it to the bottom leg of the cross. A lock was not needed here. A simple carabiner clip was enough to keep her secure.

Belle winced as her right leg was pulled to the side, opening up the space between her legs. With a blush she realized that in all of Sandor’s dressing her, he had never given her even the tiniest G-string. When he separated her wrists, clipping them to the upper arms of the cross she was completely exposed. The rear brace on the X tilted it backwards, forcing Belle to lean back against the polished wood. Only the toes of her high heels touched the floor, and the leather pad behind her thrust her torso forward, as if she were offering herself up to her captor.

After giving Belle’s restraints a final check Sandor stopped to lift the veil from her face. In that same bland, terrifying voice he said to her, “I regret I must leave you now, Miss Harker. The Countess will be with you shortly.” He leaned in closer, quietly whispering in her ear, “Just relax, it will be easier for you if you don’t struggle.” From a small bottle he tipped a bit of clear liquid on his finger. He ran it along Belle’s throat and a sickly sweet perfume filled Belle’s nostrils. Another drop was run up her inner thigh, making her shudder. He stood back, straightening up as if he was regaining his composure. “Good bye, Miss Harker,” he said. Turning on his heel he walked away, leaving Belle cuffed to the cross.

Belle cried out as her captor disappeared behind her. She twisted her head to see where he had gone, her view limited by her restraints. A garbled cry of “Wait, please!” escaped her gag.

Realizing that Sandor wasn’t coming back, Belle began a survey of the room as the afternoon shadows lengthened. Looking down from her perch on the cross Belle peered at what she had thought was a long black coffee table. A closer look showed gold handles set into the gleaming ebony finish. What had at first seemed a table top now came into focus as the lid. She realized with growing terror that it was a coffin.

‘It can’t be,’ Belle’s mind shrieked. ‘It’s all just a game, right?’ But there was no way that was a prop. It was a real casket. And was her friend Jill inside it? Was it really Jill? Or had something terrible and unnatural happened that Belle couldn’t comprehend?

The room was getting darker. Belle whined through her gag as the western sky turned the color of a fresh bruise. Perhaps this was all an elaborate ruse, but she didn’t want to find out. She began to tug frantically on her cuffs.

Leather creaked unyieldingly as Belle struggled to free herself. Even when her self bondage had gone wrong and she thought she might not be able to free herself Belle had never felt panic like this. She whimpered helplessly, knowing she was trapped.

A sudden movement in the room froze Belle’s cries. Had the lid of the coffin moved? She glanced desperately at the boarded window. The gentler pinks of sunset had faded, replaced with deep and ominous purples. A sound from the casket drew her eyes back to its obsidian surface.

Belle’s eyes widened as a pale white hand slithered out from the death box. Obscenely long, jet black nails scrabbled down the surface as more of the arm appeared. Slowly the lid began to rise.

The coffin did not simply fly open, revealing its nightmare contents. No, it rose just enough to let a pale, shroud draped arm reach blindly towards Belle.

Belle’s heart was hammering in her chest. Her breath, already restricted by the super tight corset, came in panicked little gasps. Her vision swam as her oxygen starved brain tried to process the nightmare unfolding before her.

Head and shoulders pushed their way out of the coffin. The carefully coiffed hair of Belle’s dark hostess was gone. The hair was a long, jet-black matted mess. Belle couldn’t see the creature's face, it kept close to the floor, as if feeling its way. A sheer black shroud accentuated the pale outline of its naked form.

Belle watched in silent horror as the woman’s body slid out of its nightmare resting place. The shroud slipped off her shoulders, leaving white skin gleaming in the twilight. On all fours the creature crawled towards the helpless woman.

It had kept low to the ground, searching for something as it moved. But suddenly it rose up, lifting its nose in the air as if catching some scent. It drew in a long breath, followed by a sibilant exhalation of, “Yessss” as it turned its attention on Belle.

Only then could Belle see its face. A terrified scream died in her throat. It was Jill’s face, but pale as death. Long canine fangs protruded from the sides of her blood red lips. Worst of all were her eyes. They looked blindly up at Belle, twin white milky orbs, devoid of iris or pupil.

Belle let out a whimper as the thing dragged long black nails across her shackled ankle. It dragged itself forward, letting its face hungrily nuzzle her stocking clad leg. She had stopped struggling. All she could do is keen a hopeless, “Nooo” around her gag.

Fingers walked their way up Belle’s frozen body like questing spiders. They sought, and found the top of her corset. The wickedly long nails dragged themselves over Belle’s fear hardened nipples. Sharp teeth nipped the tender flesh at the top of Belle’s stocking.

A guttural sigh escaped the creature as her tongue found Belle’s slit. The little moan that escaped the captive woman seemed to excite it, for suddenly she was licking up Belle’s juices like a cat with a bowl of cream.

Belle closed her eyes and threw her head back as her body ricocheted between terror and arousal. She’d been teased and tormented for an eternity and now relief was within reach. But she had only to look down at those dead white eyes and feel the scream that was bubbling up her throat.

Sharp white fangs toyed with Belle’s swollen clit. The needle-like prick, followed by the soft caress of the Countess’s tongue was an erotic mixture of pain and pleasure. It pushed the helpless girl over the edge.

Belle strained against her bonds as a terrified wail escaped her. Back arched, hips thrust forward she gave herself to the nightmare creature at her feet. The wave crashed over her, leaving her battered and confused. And like a castaway thrown up by the tide, Belle sagged in her bonds, bereft of the will to stand.

It was the movement of the nightmare creature that brought Belle back to herself. Belle felt her friend’s body pressed against her own as the woman slowly rose up. It was a slow sensuous dance, naked flesh grinding against Belle’s stockinged thigh as the mouth, smeared with Belle’s own juices rose up to greet her.

Belle turned her head away as the creature nuzzled her neck. The hissed, “Mmmm, so delicioussss,” froze the blood in her veins. She felt a tug at her throat; the satin ribbon that Sandor had placed there. A pull, and the bow collapsed. The soft satin dragged at the back of her neck as it was pulled away.

Belle turned her head towards the apparition, trying to cover her exposed throat with her chin. But black taloned hands caught her by the hair, forcing her head back and exposing her throat.

“Shhh, don’t spoil it,” the voice hissed seductively as Belle struggled. “My sweet, delicate Mina.”

Belle felt the bite, a gentle nip at her bared throat, followed by a sudden warm rush. From the corner of her eye Belle saw dark liquid running down onto her breast. “God, my blood,’ she thought. ‘She’s drinking my blood.’ Darkness rose up and took her.

---

Jill felt Belle go slack beneath her. “Rick,” she screamed, “help me!”

Rick rushed across the room to the two women. “Shit, she’s out. I told you the blood was over the top. I’ll hold her up and you get her hands,” he commanded.

Jill spit the remains of the blood capsule from her mouth. “You know I can’t see with these blackout lenses in,” she growled. “I’ll support her and you get her down.”

---

Belle woke with a start, clapping a hand to her ravaged throat. Shock and confusion followed the touch. Her skin was perfectly smooth. Looking up, she realized her head was cradled in Rick’s lap. But gone was the gaunt look of Sandor. The suit and tie had disappeared. Concern filled his eyes.

“Hey sleepyhead, would you like some water?”

Belle sat up, pulling up the soft blanket they had covered her with. She took the bottle and drank greedily. “God-I thought, well, I thought Jill was…” Her voice trailed off as she looked to the St Andrew’s cross. Jill was cuffed to the cross, her skin just as deathly pale as it had been, the only exception was around her mouth, where she drooled around a black muzzle gag, spoiling the pale makeup.

“I told Jill to quit when you climaxed. She was supposed to look up at you and say ‘Happy Halloween.’ But she decided to take it a little bit further.” He pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed a button. The woman on the cross gave a wail as her body jerked. “So, she’s making amends.”

Belle rubbed tired eyes. Seeing the pink tail of a vibrator protruding from Jill’s slit let her know just how Jill was paying for her transgressions. Clover clamps dangled from her breasts, each sporting little fishing weights. Rick had left her white blackout lenses in place, knowing that she could wear them for several more hours before they needed to come out.

“So this whole thing-the dungeon and everything, it was all a prank?” Belle asked incredulously.

“Well, the dungeon is real,” Rick said with pride. “I built most of the furniture myself. We didn’t show it to you before because Jill thought it might scare you off. When she’s done being ‘corrected’ I’ll take the St Andrews back to its spot in there.”

“God, you guys are crazy,” Belle laughed weakly.

“And it’s not even Halloween night yet,” Rick said smugly. “Want to come over and be part of the festivities?”

---

Epilogue

Belle shifted, trying to move a piece of straw that was poking into her side. She wore an old red flannel shirt and baggy overalls. Her curvaceous form was hidden by straw stuffed in around her. It itched, but she couldn’t scratch it. She peered out of the rough eye holes cut into the burlap sack that covered her head. The burlap’s musty scent filled her nostrils. It also hid the tape gag that sealed her mouth. It was Halloween night, and Belle was a scarecrow.

She stood on a narrow platform a foot off the ground. Old work boots covered her feet. Her ankles were tied to the pole her body was mounted on. Her arms were out to her sides, tied to a crossbeam that mocked the crucifixion.

Belle steeled herself as headlights bounced up the long driveway. Out here parents took their kids around in cars, or in this case, on a wagon towed behind an ATV. It muttered to a stop and a trio of little goblins piled out.

Just as the children passed Belle the jolt of a remote vibrator went off inside her. Even knowing it was coming, she jerked and let out a garbled moan. The kiddos shrieked and shied away while their father laughed.

Belle turned her head slightly. Jill and Rick were clearly visible in the front window. In a scene right out of “The Bride of Frankenstein,” Jill was wrapped from head to toe in ace wrap bandages. She and Belle had flipped a coin to see which part each would play. Belle was initially disappointed, but after seeing how thoroughly mummified Jill was she considered herself lucky. Especially when Rick peeled back some of the wrappings and affixed an electrode to each of Jill’s thighs.

Belle watched as the children approached the window in awe. Rick, his hair disheveled and sporting a dirty lab coat for the ‘mad scientist’ look, threw a large lever. Lights flashed, thunder cracked and Jill jerked spasmodically on the table she was strapped to. Jill had a remote vibrator just like Belle, but the little jolt from the tens unit added some sting to it. ‘The life of a scarecrow isn’t so bad after all,’ she told herself.

With the show over, Rick went to the door to distribute the candy. As the kids scampered back to their wagon he waved at the dad perched on the ATV who returned the wave and shouted, “Your stuff gets better every year!”