The first chapter of this part is actually a replacement for the last chapter of part 1. When combined, they make up one long adventure. When I finished with part 1, I still had too many ideas to let Brandy and her amazing friends just go away, so I picked up where the main story line of the first part left off.

  

Bosom Bondage Buddies, Part 2

by Brandy Dewinter

  

Chapter 23a - Mistress Raven and Slaves

  

The next morning I dressed in a midnight blue lace blouse and a snug leather mini while Kelly chose a cheerful ice-blue sundress. Having carefully cleaned my earposts twice a day as the holes healed during the previous week, for the first time I was able to wear the shining gold loop earrings. We climbed up on our impossibly high heels and swayed arm-in-arm out to meet Rocky to be greeted by heartfelt applause in appreciation of our appearance. Kelly readily confirmed the relationship Rocky and I had defined the night before and we made plans for the day. Our masculine lover was going to have to go back to the Pacific Northwest so we took him to brunch on the way to the airport. We laughed together at the envy in other men's eyes for Rocky and at the envy in other women's eyes for our beauty and our massively handsome date. Finally we were at the airport, working to maintain the cheerful mood and avoid a tearful good-bye. Kelly and I placed matching lipstick marks on his cheeks before he went down the jetway, the difference in our lipstick shades demonstrating that two women had been involved, and I wondered who would be the first to let him know about them.

"Well, Kelly, this has been an eventful few days," I said as we waited for his plane to pull away from the gate. "Did you ever think this would be the result of your challenge?"

"No," she laughed, "if I had a million guesses I'd never have used one to predict we would be standing here, dressed so beautifully."

Then she whispered to me, "and I wouldn't have guessed how excited I'd get at the thought of bondage, let alone the actual experience."

"Now that's one I would have guessed," I whispered back. "I always thought you'd like it if you ever let yourself try."

"Really?" she said. "All along I've been priding myself on having done a lot better job of recognizing your fantasy than you did of recognizing mine. Here I thought you were just lucky, but you really did know me better than I knew myself."

"Oh, there's not a thing wrong with the fantasy you recognized for me. It's perfect. I wouldn't have believed how effective you could make it, though, if I hadn't been there all along," I grinned as I hugged her.

By this time Rocky's plane had been pushed back from the gate and there wasn't much purpose to staying around any longer, but we wanted to enjoy the day rather than just go home, so we bought an underground paper from a seedy vendor and started looking through it for ideas.

"So, beautiful, what's it going to take to keep you excited, now that you've been through such an incredible set of experiences?" Kelly asked.

"You do just fine at exciting me," I assured her, but I had to admit there were ideas in the paper that looked interesting. Kelly's breathing had roughened as she looked at some of the advertisements so I knew there were some that had captured her attention as well.

"Pick something," she suggested.

"What about this one?" I asked pointing out an advertisement that read:

Bondage Party!

Master/Mistress and Slave Couples Only

No Nudity, No Pain

Slaves must be kept on a leash at all times!

 

Kelly's breath froze at the audacity of my selection, but I could see an excited flush flood to her cheeks and her nipples popped up so hard I could see them through the dress and corset that she wore. The party was at a surprisingly upscale hotel in a city about an hour's drive away from our home, so practical anonymity was achievable. According to the advertisement, we would also have a week to get ready as the party was the following Saturday night.

"Oh, Brandy, you're too much. I couldn't go public as a slave, in bondage."

"Once upon a time I would have said that about going public as a woman, yet here I am," I countered.

"What would we wear?" she asked, obviously wanting to go, just offering arguments in order not to seem too eager.

"I could wear what I'm wearing now, with my thigh-high spiked boots," I said, then continued. "With, I think, the addition of an elegant domino mask for mystery. You, on the other hand, need some more appropriate attire."

Kelly gulped but made no further comment, already surrendering control to me. I took her arm and we left the airport, going by a costume store that was open on Sunday. In it I found the mask I wanted, dark, glossy, with large enough openings to emphasize rather than conceal my beautifully made-up eyes. We picked out an innocent white mask for Kelly as well, but it was not my intention to let her wear it all the time. She would be as exposed in her fantasy as I was in mine, disguised only by the unbelievable circumstances rather than a real mask. On the other hand, my own mask would add to my authority, making her even more subservient to my mystery.

We also found a slave outfit for Kelly, right out of an adolescent fantasy novel, though her spectacular figure was emphatically adult. Her costume was made of diaphanous white nylon, with a shockingly abbreviated skirt held up by a halter-style top slit to her navel. She would have to keep her head up and shoulders back all evening or the top would fall away from her bust, leaving her exposed. As it was, only her glorious figure allowed her some degree of confidence as her outthrust tits pushed forward within the fabric to hold it in place. Our next stop was a shoe store, where we found her some sky-high white sandals with golden ankle straps to complete her outfit, except for the bondage devices. I already had a plan for those, but I wouldn't tell Kelly what it was.

The next week passed quickly. Since I wouldn't really be able to drive the pickup anymore, I dressed as Ran one day and sold it, replacing it with a wine-red 300ZX convertible much more in keeping with Brandy's style. It seemed so strange now to go out in public without makeup and wig, and wearing low-heeled shoes. I had become accustomed to being taller since with my normal heels I was comfortably over six feet, and I was forcibly reminded of how much I disliked being short. Even under Ran's boring outfit I wore garter belt and stockings, but I couldn't wait to get home and change into more familiar, feminine clothes. I had also scheduled another appointment at the nail parlor as soon as I realized I would have to shorten my nails for the day, so before Kelly even got home that evening I had my nails redone and was back to my normal, elegant appearance.

The business arrangement we had invented, where Ran worked at home and Brandy went into the office worked very well. Using Ran's voice, I set up appointments with Brandy for the clients who were due for a review and then kept them as Brandy. My clients, typically successful businessmen, were more than happy to be attended to by such a beautiful young woman, but I was surprised to see an equal pleasure on the part of the one woman client I met with that week. She lost no time in letting me know it was about time Ran had accepted a woman in a responsible position, any jealousy at my beauty buried beneath a militant feminism I hadn't previously recognized. I supposed "we" might lose a few female clients who were put off by prettier women, and I was truly prettier than most of the women who had devoted themselves to business success rather than feminine wiles, but we might gain others who were pleased with a firm that had a woman apparently in charge.

These meetings allowed me the time to run errands during the week as well and by the time Friday afternoon rolled around, I had picked up Kelly's new bondage items. My first impulse had been to go with heavy black leather implements, complete with metal studs, shiny buckles, and obvious locks. That might have been appropriate for a large, darkly sensuous woman like Brandy, but Kelly was too petite, too angelic for that stereotype of bondage. Instead, I had chosen to focus on lightweight, golden bonds that would reinforce her apparent helplessness, showing her to be too weak to break even small chains. Nonetheless, the bondage would be real, the chains I had chosen were more than enough for her strength, even if Rocky would have hardly noticed them if they had been applied to him. Then it turned out there would be another reason to have new bonds for Kelly.

We had continued our evening walks, though of course I was now always Brandy, and we were joined regularly by Billie Jo. Since she was fully aware of our amazingly effective incentives to lose weight, we talked freely with her while we strode along. That Friday evening, Kelly brought up the impending party.

"Guess where we're going tomorrow night," she grinned, excited by our outrageous plan.

"With you two, I couldn't begin to guess," Billie Jo chuckled.

"Mistress Brandy and I are going to a bondage party, I'm to be her slave," Kelly said with surprising pride. I knew it excited her, but it was always a little unexpected to realize she truly enjoyed proclaiming her love for me through her bondage.

Billie Jo came to an abrupt halt, staring at Kelly, then at me. "You're kidding," she accused.

"No," I laughed, "it's for real. Want to come along? A mistress can always use an extra slave."

I had offered in jest, but the instant flush and hard nipple points Billie Jo displayed showed real interest, though she didn't say anything. We had stopped when she did and for a long moment no one said anything. Finally Kelly broke the ice.

"I think she does, Mistress Brandy," Kelly chuckled.

Billie Jo still said nothing, certainly she didn't deny it, so

Kelly and I began to plan Billie Jo's involvement just as though she had agreed. We took her arms and pulled her along with us as we talked.

"Let's see," I mused, "if I'm wearing black and you're wearing white, I think Billie Jo needs to wear bright red, don't you?"

"Yes," Kelly agreed, "but in the same style as all your slaves wear, right?"

"Oh, certainly," I agreed. "I'll get your outfit in the morning, Billie Jo. All you need to do is come over to our house tomorrow afternoon. We'll take care of the rest. However, we will need to use your car. Make sure it's full of gas."

Billie Jo nodded in acceptance of my direction, surrendering just as Kelly had to my leadership. It wasn't until we started this conversation that I remembered we had never bound Billie Jo to our bed. She had always been free, never experiencing the complete release possible when completely helpless. One of these days we might have to rectify that as well, I mused, though I knew Billie Jo thought herself fulfilled by the members of her massively masculine stud patrol, or by occasional evenings with Kelly alone.

"By the way," I said, "we need different names for the party. While I expect it to be fun, I don't want anyone to try and bridge from the party into our personal lives. From now on, when you're in your slave roles, you will address me as Milady Raven. Is that clear?"

Nods from both of them confirmed their agreement.

"Now let's see, Angel is clearly the best slave name for you,

Kelly, but I'm not so sure what name I should give Billie Jo. Ah, I have it, when you are a slave you will be Huntress and you will be a devoted, but deadly hunting bitch, my own personal attack wolf. In case I forget to mention it later, you will be allowed to snarl at or even bite anyone but me who gets too close."

This time I didn't even ask for their agreement, taking it for granted that they would comply with my wishes. I began to realize that I had not fully understood the mistress/slave relationship myself when Kelly and I had started on this journey. I had correctly understood one aspect, that of the slave surrendering control of her body to the mistress so that the slave could give herself fully to the physical sensations of sexual exultation. There was a mental aspect to the relationship as well, though, that would allow the slaves to act outrageously without guilt or responsibility. This aspect was a different sort of release for the slaves, one that didn't really appeal to me since my internal inhibitions were more of a limit to me than society's rules. Then I laughed as the incongruity of walking along a street, dressed as a beautiful woman, planning a mistress/slave relationship, yet thinking of myself as inhibited. Maybe it was just that I didn't let society's rules limit me, regardless of whether my own were more or less stringent, so I didn't need the excuse of slave status to act as outrageously as I wanted.

For the remainder of our walk, Billie Jo was very quiet but the blush never left her cheeks and I could see external evidence of the wild fantasies that were running through her mind. Her breathing, usually completely steady even during our brisk walks since she was so wonderfully fit, stayed ragged and rough the whole way. Only when we reached her driveway did she shake herself out of her stupor, visibly getting a hold on herself.

"So, we'll see you about 3:00 tomorrow," I confirmed, not letting it seem like a question, though she had never actually agreed.

She nodded and went into her house without a word, but the hard points of her nipples shouted her enthusiasm and excitement.

  

  

  

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