Crystal's StorySite storysite.org |
Fantasy Holiday
by
Rob Willson
Chapter 15
Peter and Helen soon settled down to their luxury week, of being waited on hand and foot by Jenny.
In the middle of the week, they found out that Joan had no plans for that day and invited her over for the afternoon and the evening meal. This gave them a chance to update each other on what had been happening.
Joan told them that she had 'enjoyed' her spell as a baby in dirty nappies etc, but did not wish to repeat it too soon. Peter pointed out that she could repeat the experience in the role of the nursemaid and she said she hadn't thought of that and would keep it in mind.
One scenario, which was new to both Peter and Helen, had Joan as a naked slave girl standing on tiptoe, with her hands tied above her head under a shower nozzle, with the streams of water alternating between icy cold and quite hot.
Joan said, "The periods varied so much that you couldn't anticipate when it would change over. That was bad enough, but every so often my mistress would come in and whip me with a martinet, either on my cold flesh or when it was very flushed. I can't describe the sensations that stimulated. You would have to try it out yourself to find out."
Peter said that they would certainly keep that new possibility in mind, but that it would have to wait until a possible future visit as they were now on their last week of luxury, before going home.
Another episode she had also 'enjoyed', but definitely didn't want to repeat was her time as a Victorian child with a very strict governess. At least, not with the same governess as before!
"She had the most lovely face with a really beautiful smile, but was one of the most sadistic bitches I have met here, and that is saying something. She had a genuine Victorian 'Governess cane', which I admit I had requested, but she really enjoyed using it and also had the most fertile imagination in dreaming up the most humiliating punishments imaginable. In fact, she did very little teaching, but spent most of the time punishing me and the other children in her class.
When she first made her entrance, she introduced herself as the new Governess, Miss Love, and gave us all a most beautiful smile, which seemed to match her name, but we soon found out that neither matched her nature.
She said she hoped we would all be very happy in her class and that she wanted to be happy too. We could make her happy by obeying her small list of rules. She then continued with a very long list of 'dos' and 'don'ts'.
"Now, if you make me unhappy by breaking any of my rules, then I, in turn, will make you very unhappy with this."
"That was when she produced it and we had our first sight of the special Governess quality cane. Within a very short time we had all had our initial taste of it as well."
Joan continued, "I was very surprised when she found an excuse to punish the first girl and she only gave her two strokes. When it came to my turn, I only got one, but it nearly made me jump out of my skin. It was a very lot more severe than any cane I had experienced previously and some of them had been bad enough!
"'Miss Love' would make a good tennis champion, with that forehand smash!
"Throughout the day, she continued to 'award' only a small number of strokes each time – never more than six -, but the accumulative effect was tremendous. She was also using a different technique for each girl. One was getting all the strokes laid parallel, another getting them criss-crossed and yet another in groups.
"Me, well she was using that first stroke as a sighting mark and she was putting every one of them on the same spot. It was soon very difficult for me to hold still for the next stroke on that same line and it was excruciatingly painful for me to sit down and try not to fidget after each new punishment.
" What made it worse was that, although I was supposed to be a young girl of about 13, two of the children were really that. A girl of twelve and another of fourteen. There was also a girl of sixteen and a woman guest who was also playing a schoolgirl, like me. The trouble was that she was just as vicious with the actual children, as she was with us – just like a real governess of that time."
Peter looked across at Helen and asked, "Does that description remind you of anybody?"
"Yes," said Helen. "The 'nurse' who strapped you onto the bike".
This led them into telling Joan about the scenario with Lady Sylvia.
When they had finished their tale, Peter said to Joan.
"Your comment about 'Miss Love' landing all the strokes on top of each other reminded me of a scenario I took part in on my first trip here. I was acting as a girl, 'Dora', who was a housemaid in a very large establishment in Edwardian times. You know now what that means. Tight uncomfortable corsets and everything done by hand. 'They' did universal labour-saving devices in those days – they were called maids!
"Well, I had done something to upset the dragon of a housekeeper. She said I had been insolent and 'sentenced' me to 'a day on my knees'. This didn't mean anything to me as such, because housemaids spent a great deal of their time on their knees scrubbing and polishing floors, but I guessed it meant something more than that, by the sympathetic and pitying looks from some of the younger maids.
"However, there was no point in asking them about it, because there was a complete ban on any maid explaining a punishment in advance to a novice. Any infringement of this rule resulted in both of the maids sharing the punishment for double the time, or getting twice the amount of whatever it was.
"The next morning I was woken up at 5.30, half an hour earlier than usual, and told to get ready, which meant washing in icy cold water. Then I was put into my 'uniform' for the day. Uniform? It consisted solely of one of those thick dull-red rubber aprons we knew as scrubbing aprons from other scenes. In this household, it was known as a punishment apron and signified that the wearer was undergoing an official punishment and not a casual one. That was the 'uniform' in total – not even the customary tight corset and no shoes.
"The apron had a very short neck chain, so that it fitted tightly up under my chin, but also the thick edges of the bib rubbed against my naked upper arms. The neck chain was positioned so that the ends of it dug into my collarbone. These three points made it uncomfortable to wear, but were no great thing in them, except that they really began to add up and tell long before the day was finished.
"Then, instead of being led off to a bucket and scrubbing brush as I had expected, I was taken down to the punishment basement, where I had to kneel down and was strapped immovably on to a whipping block. I was then told that I was to receive six hard strokes of the cane every hour, on the hour, in between my scrubbing duties.
"However, the maid who had strapped me down did not fetch a cane, but waited. Then my heart sank as Bertha entered the room, carrying her special cane. She was the Head Laundry Maid and was used for serious punishments, as she was a brawny woman, who was also a very skilled wielder of the cane. She had an awesome reputation of someone who could cane very hard, with rapid strokes, with an excellent accurate aim.
"She then gave me six slow, measured strokes, every one of which brought a loud shriek from my lips. I got the first three as parallel stripes on the top half of my buttocks and the next two on the underhang, with the last one expertly placed in the crease. Each one hurt badly, but the last one HURT. AND I was to get another six like that every hour!
"As it turned out, the rest of the beatings were not at all like that. At the next one, she laid six very fast hard strokes ALL on top of the first stroke she had given me an hour earlier. My God! Did they hurt! I can sympathise with you Joan.
"An hour later, it was six on top of the next weal down. Again all very fast. She maintained her reputation, as all of the fast strokes felt just as hard as the slower ones, which she was now using as sighting marks, and her speed of operation did not lessen her accuracy.
"You can imagine my trepidation when I was taken down for the sixth caning, due on the crease. I was right to be apprehensive, because that six were worse than the others. Sheer agony and then it was straight back to kneeling down and scrubbing without any let up.
"The fast strokes meant less time over the block and more time for scrubbing!
"After that session, she altered her style. Each set of six strokes were laid on top of one of the previous multi-weals, as before, but I didn't know which one was being aimed at this time and so I didn't know when to expect them in the crease, until it actually happened.
"Finally, at ten o'clock in the evening, when my scrubbing punishment had ended with my sore knees red raw (matching the colour of my punishment apron), and my aching arms feeling as though they were ready to drop off my shoulders, I thought I was finished, but oh no! This time, instead of being released, I was left there to muse on my sin of 'insolence' and wait for eleven o'clock, when Bertha came in to deliver the final set, as you have already guessed, accurately into my crease.
"From Bertha's fairly lowly position in the household as a laundry maid and her not being a housekeeper, I concluded that she was in fact a slave and had been given the job of punishing her fellow slaves, because of her skill. This skill had probably been honed by often being on the receiving end of the cane herself, especially in her early days on The Island.
"Since her being here in the first place, was caused by clients wishing to holiday in a slave environment, she was always pleased when she was given the opportunity to wreak some of her revenge on a submissive guest. That day it had been me and she had made the most of it. She normally resented having to get up early and having a longer than usual day, with her own laundry work being constantly interrupted every hour, but this was mitigated by the enjoyment of thrashing a hated guest.
"I was given the chance of one meal during the day. I had to eat it in the large main maids' room, where I stood at a small shelf at a side wall with my striped buttocks showing into the room, whilst wearing a placard reading 'For Insolence' on my back, as a warning to deter other maids. Although I did not enjoy the extra humiliation of showing off my bum to them, I was greatly relieved at not to have to sit down on it!"
* * * *
After her baby and school experiences, Joan had become a maid in various situations and had enjoyed these far more.
Joan said she had better explain the background to these.
"You see", she began, "I have wealthy parents and I have had servants round me all my life. I suppose that when I came on this holiday, it was to experience life from 'the other side of the apron' so to speak, and that is what I have basically been doing."
"I can understand that," said Helen, "but if you had such a strong idea of the fantasy you wanted to explore and experience, why did you appear so uncertain at the beginning of your holiday? So much so that the Management couldn't get any real idea from your drugged hypnotic sessions but had to ask us to help out?"
"I can only suppose that I was so shy from mentioning it to anybody as I thought it was such an unusual fantasy to want to do. Of course, I now realise two things. First that the Management can reproduce practically any fantasy you desire, and are not surprised at anything you might want to do and, secondly, that the maid fantasy is a very common one, much more so than I ever supposed."
They then told her about the possibility of becoming a cocktail waitress and wearing a really bizarre and outlandish uniform, which she also took note of.
"My current problem is that, after I go home in a week's time, they want to send me souvenirs of this holiday. The trouble is that I am still living with my parents, and their domestic staff, until I get a job, so I can't very well have these sent to me until I get a place of my own. I wonder if Fantasy Holidays will store them for me?
"You see, I have a legacy from my Grandmother which means that I do not need to work and so I haven't bothered to get a job since I left University, but I will have to soon, now that I have finished this holiday, to keep myself from going insane. After all, I am not ready to 'retire' yet and go on a permanent holiday at my age!"
At this point, Joan needed to go to the bathroom, which gave Peter and Helen time for a hurried consultation and they agreed.
When Joan returned, Helen said, "Look, Joan. An alternative is to have your souvenirs sent to us and we can then forward them once you have settled down. Also, Peter and I run our own business as consultants, which means we often have blank spots when we are free and you could visit us to see your stuff and stay with us for a time. How about that?"
Joan thought that a very good idea and thanked them for their help.
"You know, I was hoping we could keep in touch once we left here, because I feel we have become such good friends and could become even better ones."
Joan then gave them telephone and email contact numbers and they responded by giving her anonymous ones which would not give away who they actually were or where they lived.
Joan then went off to experience life in further maid situations and promised to keep in touch.
On their last evening there, they told Jenny that they had a very special guest for dinner, they stressed the words 'very special', and, as the time drew on, Jenny began to get quite agitated that the guest hadn't yet arrived. Eventually, the doorbell rang and she said, "Oh good. Your guest is here at last" and went to answer the door".
They heard her say, "Good Evening Madam" and the she led Carol into the room.
She said chidingly, " Why didn't you tell me it was Miss Carol who was your guest and then I would not have worried".
It was Carol who answered her. "It is not I who is their guest this evening Jenny, but you. I have just come to let you know that it has the Management's blessing for you to step out of your role as maidservant. Now give me your cap and apron. We have arranged for two maids from another sphere, who do not know you, to serve at the meal and they will be here in about fifteen minutes. Now enjoy your evening."
In a bit of a daze, Jenny handed over her cap and apron to Carol who then went off.
Helen then took her to the spare bedroom where a nice pretty dress waited for her.
She told her, "Carol came to confirm the arrangement, so that you wouldn't have any doubts or qualms about accepting our invitation. Now don't forget, no more 'Sirs' and 'Madams', we are now Peter and Helen for the rest of the evening."
Jenny accepted their invitation happily and had the kind of meal she hadn't had in years. In fact, she had never had such a good meal in her life before. Then she had another surprise during the coffee stage, after the waitresses had retired, when Helen passed her an envelope from Carol, which announced that she was promoted to become a Housekeeper from the next day.
"So no more caps and aprons for you, eh Jenny?"
"Well not exactly Helen," replied Jenny. "You see Housekeepers usually keep their old maid uniforms, and even wear them occasionally, to remind themselves of what has been in the past and what might happen again, if ever they get slack. They also usually keep canes in their rooms and ask other housekeepers to cane them sometimes as a reminder."
They then told her that they had also arranged for her to have another four weeks' holiday.
Jenny was thrilled with this generous present and then 'confessed' that she had met young man from Management during the previous holiday they had 'given' her and, now that she was also Management, there might be the opportunity for something more permanent to develop from that friendship.
"In fact", she added rather shyly, "Alan is due for another holiday quite soon and we were rather despondent that he would have to go alone. But now he won't have to" she finished happily.
They all agreed that the last evening had been a great success and next day, when they were leaving, Jenny came to see them off, dressed in her smart new grey suit as a housekeeper. She was accompanied by Alan, who had his arm protectively round her shoulders and was almost incoherent with his thanks for their help.
So, their second holiday ended on a particularly happy high note.
Once home, Helen and Peter soon got back into their routine and added their new acquisitions to their previous uniforms and equipment.
They kept in touch with Joan and several weeks later they received an email from her saying that she had not got a job yet and new accommodation, but asking if she could come to stay with them for a while to see her souvenirs? They readily agreed, as they didn't currently have any computer problems to solve.
They were still trying to keep their anonymity, so they agreed to pick Joan up at a certain point and bring her home. After a time, they stopped in a lay-by and Helen poured coffee for them all out of a thermos flask. Very soon after that, Joan was in a drugged sleep.
The coffee, which they had all shared, had been OK, but her cup had had the drug dried on the inside of it, which the coffee had dissolved.
Peter quickly then drove them home. The pickup point had actually been quite close.
A few hours later, Joan woke up feeling very muzzy. It was dark. Her first recollections made her think that she had been kidnapped or abducted. Being abducted in a similar fashion had once been one of her teenage fantasies, but after her experiences at Fantasy Holidays, she now knew that in 'real life' this would result in a lifetime of sexual slavery, and/or drudgery.
She tentatively moved her arms and legs to find that they were not strapped or chained in any way. As this was real life, she was very relieved that she was not chained up in a dungeon cell. At that point, she also realised that she was actually in a very comfortable bed. It was quite unlike a slave's rubber covered pallet.
She then realised that there was a bedside table with a lamp on it and switched it on. It certainly wasn't a dungeon cell, but a very pleasant bedroom. She got out of bed and went to the door, expecting to find it locked, but it wasn't. She still felt very woozy, but relieved, so she lay down again and was soon fast asleep again.
The next time she awoke, it was beginning to get light and she pulled back the curtains to look out of the window. There were no bars to her intense relief and it seemed to be a nice garden outside, surrounded by a very high wall. She laid herself down to think about it, but soon dropped off to sleep once more.
She awoke the third time to a light knock on the door and Helen entered with a cup of something. She was not dressed like a gaoler, either real-world or fantasy-world style, but was wearing a normal housedress with an attractive pretty plastic bibbed apron over it.
"Good morning Joan. I hope you slept well and had a good night. I thought you might like a cup of tea, but there is coffee, if you prefer."
"Tea will do fine thank you, but I would like an explanation about what is happening." She answered rather coldly.
"Yes, I expected that would be your first question. You see we keep our business and personal lives quite separate from our fantasy lives, which you are currently a part of, and we prefer to keep our anonymity for the moment. We will explain more when you come down to breakfast. It will be in about 30 minutes. Will that give you enough time, or would you like a bit longer to get ready?"
"That's OK, but I am still not too happy about being drugged. I'll see you at breakfast."
Helen went out.
When Joan came down, she found Helen cooking breakfast in the kitchen and Peter sitting at the table reading the morning paper. He was wearing normal men's clothes, but was wearing a ruffled plastic apron, which matched Helen's.
He greeted her warmly, which melted her bad mood a bit more and she asked, "Have you got an apron for me to wear too?"
"Of course, if you want one. Look in the cupboard over there."
She did so and found several aprons hanging on hooks, but one that matched those worn by the others and she took this down and put it on. At this, they both smiled and Helen came across to her and gave her a hug.
Peter got up and hugged her too. "Does that mean that we are forgiven for bringing you here like this?"
"Oh yes, I suppose so, but it did give me a bad turn when I woke up and realised that I had been drugged."
"I understand that," said Peter, "but there were three reasons.
"First of all, to keep our anonymity as Helen has already told you, secondly, to titillate your fantasies a little bit, and thirdly to warn you how easy it is for someone like you to be kidnapped. Don't forget, that is how some of Fantasy Holiday's slave 'recruits' get there. By the way, there is no chance that that will happen to you now, because you have already established yourself as a wealthy paying guest and, if they enslaved all their clients, where would their business go?"
By this time, Joan had forgiven them for drugging her and was now anxious to look at their set-up. They set off on a tour of the house. Peter and Helen left their aprons on and so Joan did likewise.
They showed her round the living part of the house and told her that their business half was separate. Originally, it had been two semi-detached houses. The doors to the business half were controlled by touch pads keyed to their DNA's. They also showed her the cellars and explained that the closed-off section was their dungeon, which they would show her later.
Next came a tour of the grounds and they indicated the 'stables'.
"You have horses?" asked Joan.
"No my dear, the stables are for human ponies, which, of course, are us. They have to be kept locked, because of the contract gardeners we employ. By the way, they come on fixed days and you will have free access to the gardens in any costume you like, except on those days. Similarly, we never dress up if there is any chance they might see us. We really are anonymous here, as you will find out.
"Later in the week, you can drive us round this all-weather path in a pony trap and you can experience being a pony yourself if you like. You didn't do that at Fantasy Island did you?"
"No," replied Joan, "that is one of the things I never got around to doing this time".
After showing her where everything was, they took her to the room next to her bedroom where her shipment from Fantasy Holidays was waiting for her.
Peter explained that she could either watch her videos on the equipment in her room, in private, or she could share them with Helen and himself.
Joan soon got engrossed in her 'unpacking' and they heard nothing more from her until Helen went to call her for lunch.
They were both very surprised when Joan came down to the dining room wearing one of her parlourmaid uniforms.
"I couldn't resist it. Is that all right?"
"Of course it is, my dear. You can do anything and wear anything you want, as long as the gardeners don't see you, and we will give you plenty of warning when they will be about," said Helen.
Joan then disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, until they called her for the evening meal. This time she appeared in one of her schoolgirl uniforms, complete with an old-fashioned pinafore.
She came in and gave them both a hug.
"I can't thank you enough for having these things here for me. I would have had to wait, perhaps for ages, if you hadn't. This is all so very exciting for me."
Peter then said, "We will give you a few days to get yourself sorted out and then, perhaps, suggest a few scenarios. Of course, after we have shown you our dungeon tomorrow."
"Oh yes, I would like that."
After dinner, they sat and watched the video of her time with the Victorian governess and they all winced as they watched her enthusiastic use of the cane. As soon as she came into view, Helen said, "we were right Peter. It is the girl who played the rubber aproned nurse when you were on the bike."
"Yes, I remember that well. Almost too well! Tomorrow evening we must show Joan that video of our time with 'Lady Sylvia'."
Before they went to bed, Peter explained that, when they had not played games during the day, he and Helen often caned each other.
He added, "Tonight we are going to give each other six hard strokes of the medium cane, but, if you like, and you don't have to, you can join in and we will each give the other two three strokes. You don't have to answer straight away, but can think about it for a moment."
"No, I don't need to think about it. I haven't been caned since I got home after my holiday and I would like to be caned again. In fact, I couldn't be caned at all for my last few days there, because I didn't want to have any marks when I got home. My maid there is used to seeing me with no clothes on and she would have been very inquisitive and worried about such marks."
"OK," said Peter. "I'll go first and then Helen and you can have your own back at the end. You will find the instrument of correction in there." He nodded towards a cupboard in the corner of the living room.
Joan went to fetch the cane and returned with a slender three-foot rattan cane.
"On the bare please ladies."
They both slipped their knickers off and Helen bent over in the approved position, grasping her ankles. Peter measured his stance and then gave her three wristy cuts across her buttocks. Helen gave a little yelp as the third one caught her low on the crease.
Then it was Joan's turn. Peter made sure he aimed higher for her, but otherwise didn't spare her.
He gave the cane to Helen and then dropped his trousers and under pants.
She aimed all three at his crease and succeeded on target with two of them. He managed not to yelp in his turn, but did jerk as the third stroke landed. Helen also aimed high for Joan.
Now it was Joan's turn with the cane. She was smarting from her six cuts but didn't try to do anything fancy in her turn.
"OK?" Peter asked her.
Joan nodded, but added, "OK, but could we do another round each, please? At least, could you give me another six?"
"Of course," said Helen. "We usually give each other a dozen, but didn't want to be too heavy with you for the first time."
So, the caning was doubled-up.
"Welcome. You are now a full member of Our Fantasy Club."
The next morning, Joan came down to breakfast in her plastic pinny and found the others dressed as 1930 housemaids.
Helen explained, "After we have shown you the dungeon, Peter and I are going to do some housework and then offer you the chance to drive a pony in the afternoon".
Joan offered to help them with the housework, but was told that there would be plenty of time for that after she had gone through the rest of her cases of souvenirs.
Nevertheless, Joan changed into a matching uniform before doing so and asked for ironing facilities, as some of her aprons and clothes needed pressing.
At lunch, Helen and Joan sat at the table in the dining room, while Peter served them uniformed as a waitress, before he also joined them for the meal.
"Did you cook this, Peter?" asked Joan.
"No. That is another secret we have to share with you. Mrs Curtis does most of the cooking here, especially when we have work to do, and we will introduce you after we have finished. You see she used to be housekeeper for a couple of dominatrixes and so nothing we dress in, or do, ever surprises her. She has seen most of it before. We were very lucky to come across her and she feels equally lucky in finding us for a comfortable situation to supplement her pension."
In fact, it was Mrs Curtis, dressed in a conventional cook's uniform, who brought the dessert course in to them and the introductions were made. What Peter said was borne out when she did not turn a hair at the way they were all dressed.
When it came to showing Joan the dungeon, she immediately wanted to try all the gadgets out at once, which of course wasn't possible, so they introduced her to their modified version of the wooden pony. After she had stripped off, her hands were strapped behind her back and she was made to sit down with the edge of a low plank of wood between her legs.
She then had another strap fastened from a belt to the plank, so that she could not rise up too high, and taking her weight on bent legs would be very uncomfortable and a strain. Then, to compound the discomfort, they fitted nipple rings to the plank with a slightly slack chain, so that when she raised herself, there was an extra pull on her nipples, in addition to the strain on her legs.
As they were about to leave her, Joan asked, "Say. How long am I going to be here like this?"
They turned back and a ball gag was strapped into her mouth, with the only comment, "Slave girls should be seen and not heard!"
As they left, they also turned out the light and she was left to suffer in darkness.
Actually, it was only half an hour later that they came to set her free. But by that time, she had had quite enough.
That evening, they came to their evening meal all dressed in the rubber versions of their school uniforms and were served by Mrs Curtis. Joan then found that she had another occasional role in their lives.
After the meal was over, she came back bustling into the room wearing a dreaded thick yellow rubber spanking apron. She was also pushing a small trolley, which had several items on it in threes. Three leather straps, rubber bibs, feeding bottles, and one bottle of caster oil (the synthetic, no bowel movement, kind) with three spoons and only one leather martinet. This was once the favourite spanking instrument of French mothers and governesses.
"Right children. Come over here to nanny."
She strapped their arms behind them, tied the bibs on and, one at a time, sat them on her lap to feed them from the bottles. It was the stuff they had met before, which looked like milk, but tasted like nothing on earth.
Then it was three spoonfuls of oil each and, finally, a good spanking until each of them was crying quietly.
The next day, it was back to 'normal'. They all did some housework in the morning, with Joan scrubbing the patio as her main contribution. Then, in the afternoon, they introduced her to pony carting.
Helen was kitted out in he pony girl harness. Joan found out that they had four ways of attaching the reins. Directly to the ends of the bit, or to nipple rings clamped on to each breast, with the reins threaded through the rings back up to the bit and vice versa. Or, of course, directly to the nipple rings.
After she had driven both Helen and Peter round the track, it was her turn. To her surprise, she found that the crotch strap between her legs also held in place a dildo and her long fancy tail ended in a butt plug, which she hadn't realised was used, and then there were the sensations they caused as she trotted round the track.
She had a further surprise when they temporarily removed the butt plug and pushed in a small piece of ginger before replacing the plug.
"They do this to carriage ponies too, to make them hold their tails up smartly."
Joan soon found she didn't need any further explanation!
Then, after Peter changed whips, she got another surprise. This whip had a trembler switch in its handle and, every time he cracked it, the switch connected and caused a bolt of electricity to surge from the butt plug in addition to the lash falling on her body. He was able to raise or lower the level of the shock, according to how quickly obedient she was in following his orders. She soon changed from the sloppy way she had started to run and began to lift her knees up parallel with the ground at each stride and run with some style and grace.
When they had finished the session, Joan was nursing her sore tits and rubbing at some of the weals on her body, particularly those on her arse.
Helen asked her, "Well what did you think of being a pony girl? Did you enjoy it?"
"Well, there was a lot more to it than I expected, but on the whole I enjoyed myself and will try it again. Maybe tomorrow?"
"No not tomorrow, I'm afraid. Our gardeners are coming tomorrow, so you will have to stay indoors out of sight, if you want to dress up. But we have to dress and act normally, just in case we are needed."
Joan decided to dress normally too, so that she could meet the gardeners, but she then spent the rest of the time they were gardening by having a final check though the material she had received from Fantasy Holidays.
Over the next few weeks, they played out variations on their fantasies, using the props from their holidays. Also, Joan had plenty of time to sample all the apparatus in the dungeon. She always referred to them as 'the toys downstairs', ignoring the matter of the pain and discomfort they were able to inflict. 'Toys' indeed!
They had a number of sessions, where one of them marched the other two round and round the pony path. Those being marched wore tight stiff leather corsets with a crotch strap, matching high collars and knee length boots. They each carried a leather pack on their backs filled with paper, which made them very heavy.
Of course, Peter wore a bristly ball bag, since he could have a dildo inside him.
Round each ankle was an anklet filled with lead ingots and a similar one round each wrist. They were ordered to march swinging their arms up to shoulder height and to use a high prancing step.
And then, of course, there was also the piece of ginger held in by the butt plug.
They very soon began to feel tired from the strenuous exercise, but a whippy crop applied to their naked buttocks got them going again until they wanted to drop.
Helen and Peter gradually began to trust Joan completely and allow her to be in charge of both of them at the same time, where she could lock them up. At first, they had been very wary of doing this and one of them was always free. Of course, there were always the safeguards of the audio password, which would open any lock and the fail-safe time switches, both of which they still kept as a secret.
They then spent a full week where Joan took the role of governess, with the scenario covering different periods. In all these, Peter played a young boy compelled to dress in clothes similar to his sister, complete with pinafore. Joan remembered the humiliations inflicted on her by her Victorian Governess and repeated these on her two pupils. They also allowed her the use of their 'Victorian cane', which she plied to very good effect.
But the most common scenario was the sight of three uniformed maids going about their duties dressed in uniforms of various periods. Joan now had her fill of seeing life from the other side of the apron.
A good time was had by all.
*********************************************
© 2002 by Rob Willson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.