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The Consequences by anyport I blame my father for all my problems. He gave me some fatherly advice when I was young, and I've always heeded it, the advice? 'No matter how much you're in debt, always pay your gambling debts immediately.' Innocent enough advice, you may think, and under normal circumstances, very sound. Unfortunately, it has become so ingrained in me, that I would never, under any circumstance, avoid payment of a gambling debt. As you'll learn, this became my eventual downfall. It started innocently enough, My live in girlfriend of 3 months, had a terrible habit of biting her nails, and even though she knew my love for long fingernails, she continued the habit. One night, as we sat watching TV I caught her having a nibble. "I thought you were growing your nails?" I commented. "I'm trying, but I keep forgetting." She shrugged. "Maybe you need some incentive." I suggested. We discussed various inducements, but none of them appealed to her. Then in desperation I suggested a bet, which led us to discuss the stakes. Money was no good; we pooled all our resources. Sex was out, because there was no winner either way. We had dabbled in bondage, and both enjoyed it, but we both preferred the dominant role, so, confident that she couldn't win, I made the following suggestion. "How about this, if you can go 2 weeks without biting your nails, I'll be your slave for a month. If you can't, then you're mine." Rachel looked skeptical, she knew the chances of her winning were slim, so she didn't want to make any rash promises. "Okay, but the slave has to be allowed to refuse anything he or she doesn't like." "No way, if we say that, then the master doesn't have control, there's no incentive unless there's a risk. It has to be total, agreed." She mulled the idea over, I knew I had her cornered, on the one hand, she professed her desire to grow her nails, on the other, she knew she couldn't stop biting them. I thought I couldn't lose. I either got a girlfriend with sexy nails, or I had her as my slave for a month. I sat there smugly, arms folded, a grin of self- congratulation on my face as I awaited her reply. "Okay, you have a bet. Starting from midnight tonight." Over the next few days, I checked her nails regularly for any telltale signs of biting, unfortunately there were none. After a week, I began to worry, particularly when she bought some nail polish and painted them for the first time since I'd met her. She was quite proud of her efforts, and I knew then that I was going to lose. At one minute past midnight on the 15th day, Rachel woke me in bed. "Go and get me a glass of water, and take off that ridiculous tee shirt, from now on you'll wear what I pick in bed." I began to protest when she pointed at the clock, then held her hands out for my inspection. 'Thanks Dad,' I thought to myself, as I climbed out of bed. I was allowed to sleep on my return, after I'd been instructed as to my morning duties, nothing too elaborate, breakfast in bed, iron her clothes for the day, and run her bath. I usually made her breakfast anyway, and often ironed a blouse for her when I did my shirt. So I wasn't too bothered. The next couple of days were fairly tame, I was wakened once in the middle of the night because Rachel couldn't sleep, and she decided she wanted sex. While she's only small, about 5'2", she's all woman, so making love to her was no ordeal at any time of the day or night. That night after dinner, when we were both relaxing - I'd cooked and washed the dishes naturally - Rachel sent me to get a variety of different coloured nail polishes from the all night chemist. On my return, she selected one of them, and told me to do her, now quite long, nails. I varnished her finger and toenails with four coats each, when they were dry, she decided we would have an early night and went to bed. I was locking up when she called me from the other room; I trooped in mumbling under my breath. "Before you come to bed, I want you to paint your toe nails with the same polish, four coats of course, and don't you dare smudge them. Then come to bed." I obeyed her command, and found out it was much more difficult to do your own toenails. I had to remove polish from my toes several times before I'd completed the task. Then I went into the bedroom and stripped off, presenting my feet for inspection. I was about to climb into bed, naked, as she'd decreed since the first night, when she stopped me. "You can wear that tonight." She said, pointing to a black see through negligee. It was one of her old ones, so she wasn't too worried about my damaging it. I pulled it over my head resignedly; it was far too short and very tight, particularly around the chest and shoulders. After looking me over, Rachel allowed me to climb into bed, but she wasn't finished yet. She reached into the bedside cabinet and pulled out some old pairs of tights. "You kept me awake half the night last night, with your tossing and turning, so I've decided to do something about it." So saying, she told me to lie on my back then tied my wrists together and secured them to the bed head. She repeated the bondage on my feet, pulling them down so that I was stretched out. "There, that should keep you still." She commented, and slid in beside me, as she pulled over the sheet, she noticed my erection. As I mentioned earlier, we played bondage games occasionally, and I always got turned on. "My my, we are feeling playful aren't we." She took my cock in her mouth, and started sucking. Before long, I was close to coming, when she suddenly pulled away. "I've changed my mind." She turned off the light and prepared for sleep. "By the way, if I suspect you've done anything to, shall we say, ease your frustration, I promise you you'll regret it. Do you understand?" I moaned a yes. "And before I forget, the polish stays on until tomorrow night, then you may do my nails again, in a different colour, and you can change yours at the same time." "Come on Rachel, I can't go to work with polish on my toe nails, what if someone sees them?" "Are you in the habit of taking your shoes and socks off at work?" She didn't wait for an answer. "By the way, from now on you'll call me Mistress Rachel, is that clear?" "Yes. Sorry, yes Mistress Rachel." I was starting to become a little concerned at the turn in events. Rachel was starting to take things more seriously, and I didn't like it one bit. The next night I was trussed up in the same manner, but in addition, Rachel decided I snored, so my mouth was stuffed with the panties she'd worn that day, and they were held in place by her tights. I think the next morning heralded the beginning of my real servitude. After releasing my hands - so I was able to free my own feet - I was sent to make breakfast. I started to remove the gag, but she said to leave it. "You always make too much noise in the morning. Incidentally, when I do permit you to remove it, you can wash the tights, but not the panties. Those you'll wear today, then tomorrow you can wash them, and wear the ones I use today." I wanted to protest, but the gag didn't make it easy, then I realised, I'd be wasting my time, so I was forced to accept my fate. I walked into the kitchen, my poor teased prick standing out like a flagpole in my negligee. Rachel had made me eat her pussy before she trussed me up the night before. Then, after tying me up, she'd taken me to the edge with her tongue again. I desperately wanted to come, but was understandably concerned about the consequences if I wanked myself. Rachel was obviously relishing her newfound power, and there was no telling what lengths she may go to if I disobeyed her. When I returned with her breakfast, she made me stand holding the tray, while she once again teased my poor tortured prick to shooting point. Again she permitted me no release, but promised that if I behaved myself, she would let me come that night. I was ridiculously excited at the prospects, and almost didn't mind wearing the panties. In fact, once I got used to them, I had to admit - to myself only - they were actually more comfortable than my regular underwear. Later that morning I was sitting in my office when my secretary came in. "Your wife dropped this envelope in at reception, she told me to wait and see if there's any reply." Preoccupied with an urgent job, I took the large envelope from my secretary, and tipped the contents out on the desk. I turned a bright crimson as a pair of black stockings and a black suspender belt fell from the opening. I quickly stuffed them back, but a glance at my secretary told me she'd seen exactly what was in there. I picked up the enclosed note, it read, 'Go straight to the men's room and put these on. Leave them on until you get home. Signed Mistress Rachel.' "Thank you Kerry, there's no reply, it's a little joke of my wife's." 'That bitch,' I thought to myself. No wonder she'd insisted I play my weekly game of squash after work, she must have planned this all along. I made the phone call I'd been about to make before Kerry entered, then went straight to the men's room and pulled the stockings on my legs. I had a little difficulty with the garter belt, as I was unfamiliar with the way it was worn. Rachel wore one sometimes, but I always left it on because it looked so sexy on her. On me, it looked stupid. I played squash that night, fortunately I always kept a tracksuit in my locker, so I wore the pants to hide my secret. My opponent wasn't too impressed, as I couldn't give him the usual close games, because of my restrictions. He kept asking me to take the pants off, but I said I'd forgotten my shorts, and anyway, I needed to sweat a little. He accepted my excuse, but not my bad game. We usually had a drink afterwards, but he said that unlike me, he hardly raised a sweat, so he wasn't thirsty. "Hello dear, you're early, how was the squash?" Rachel greeted me, her face showing her obvious amusement. "Lousy, Rod thrashed me every game thanks to these damned stockings." "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll soon get used to them." "You're kidding, you don't expect me to wear them again do you." I stormed. Rachel's expression changed from one of amusement to one of anger. "I expect you to do whatever I say, or are you welshing on the bet." 'Damn you Dad' I thought. "No Mistress Rachel, I'm not welshing." I replied, accepting my fate. "Good, by the way, while we're on the subject of the stockings, do you remember my instructions to you?" "Yes Mistress, you said to go to the men's room immediately and put them on." "And did you?" She asked, her fingers tapping on the arm of the chair. "Yes, of course I did." As soon as I said it, I remembered the phone call I'd made first, I was about to correct my statement, but Rachel never gave me the chance. "LIAR, you waited at least five minutes before you went." "How did..." Then I remembered, Kerry had been on the phone when I left my office. I thought she gave me a strange look as I passed her desk. "Well you have to be punished of course. Let's see, for not obeying instantly, well naturally you won't be permitted to come tonight. But the serious one is lying; I'll have to think about a suitable punishment for that. While I do, you can go and have a shower, then come down and make dinner. You may take the stockings and panties off while you shower, but be sure you put them back on when you're finished. Oh, and don't wear anything else, I want to see how you look. And shave those hairy legs of yours, they must look terrible through the stockings. Well, what are you waiting for, I'm hungry." I wanted to argue with Rachel, I was feeling pretty frustrated, both mentally and - with the latest news - sexually. But I went meekly to the shower instead, after all, what could I say. Much as I was tempted, I couldn't welsh on the bet, and apart from that, I had no bargaining position. I was just finishing shaving my legs, when Rachel came into the bathroom. She stood watching me for a while, then, "You may as well do the rest while you're there, I've always hated getting those little hairs in my teeth, and a hairy chest will look silly with these." She picked up the stockings and panties. "And hurry it up, I'm starving." She said over her shoulder as she walked out, giving me no opportunity to protest. I dutifully obeyed her, shaving every hair from my body; fortunately, I don't have a hairy back, so I didn't have to worry about that. I even did under my arms, I knew she would check, so I thought I'd be one step ahead of her. Sure enough, when I presented myself for inspection, it was one of the first places she checked. "I don't remember telling you to shave there, I take it you like the idea of being hairless, since you went to such extremes. That's good, from now on you can keep it that way, is that clear?" "Yes Mistress Rachel." I replied sheepishly, then I headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner. As I worked, I wondered how much more humiliation Rachel could heap on my head. We still had three weeks and three days to go to the end of the bet, and the way she was progressing, there was no knowing where it would end. My thoughts were interrupted by a call from Rachel; I went immediately to see what she wanted. "I bought this for you, to save your nice clothes." She held up a frilly white apron, which she then proceeded to place over my head, and tie behind my back. "There, now you can finish dinner." Head hung, I went back to my task, I didn't hear her move to the kitchen door, and was startled when she said, "Phil." I turned from the food, and the bright flash from the Polaroid camera momentarily blinded me. The camera whirred, then another flash. "Excellent, I've decided to make up an album of these, it will give us something to look at on those long winter nights when we're old and grey." She left before I could speak. At the time, it never occurred to me they might be used against me, but I wish it had. We ate dinner together, as was our custom. After I washed the dishes I had to do my duties with the nail polish. Rachel selected a shocking pink colour for that night, and she watched as I removed my stockings and applied it. Then replaced them when it was dry. "You don't have to wear the apron when you're not cooking, take it off. And I think you should wear a bra to go with your other clothes. Go and get the black lace one, from the laundry hamper." I returned with the bra, and despite the obvious size difference, Rachel managed to fasten it in place. The cups sagged - Rachel is particularly well endowed - so she stuffed them with tissues. I was instructed to sit at her feet, while she watched a soap opera on TV. One actor in particular appealed to her, and she made me eat her pussy right through the programme. She had several orgasms, and all I had was a badly aching jaw and a rock hard prick, with no guarantee of relief in the foreseeable future. After watching the late news, - It didn't turn Rachel on so I was permitted to watch with her - we went to bed. My hands were tied as usual, and my mouth gagged. I expected my feet to be tied next, but instead, Rachel turned me over on my face, then secured my feet. "I've decided to let you off with a warning for the lie, well, a warning and a spanking to be accurate. My nightie was pulled up to my waist, and my panties down to my thighs. Then Rachel - packing a lot more punch than the small frame suggested - reddened my behind with her hand. I don't know how long she continued, but I do know my behind was sore long before her hands. This was a whole new experience for me. No one, even my parents, had ever spanked me like that. As my punishment had begun, I felt nothing but resentment toward Rachel. What had started out as a game, was turning into more of a nightmare. But then, with the increased pain, a strange thing happened. Instead of an equal increase in resentment, I began to accept the inevitability of the punishment. It was as if I was trying to rationalise Rachel's actions. I had, after all, lied to her, and if the roles had been reversed, I would probably have done exactly the same thing. By the time Rachel had finished punishing me, I had turned the emotion round from one of anger, to one of acceptance. I really believed I deserved the spanking, and it frightened me. As I lay there, trying to control my confused emotions, Rachel took two more Polaroid's. I tried to hide my tear stained face, but she insisted I look at the camera. My feet were released and I was turned over on my back. The pain had subsided slightly by now, but I would still have preferred to stay on my stomach. Next came the nightly sucking to the edge of orgasm, and withdrawal at the crucial moment. Followed by a goodnight kiss on the forehead. Nothing much happened the following day at work. It was Friday, and I had a weekend of service to look forward to. I dreaded what Rachel might come up with, but it also excited me, and I spent half the day with an erection. Fortunately I'd worn my baggiest suit, to try and hide the telltale signs of my suspenders. But I caught Kerry looking a couple of times, and I think she suspected my undergarments weren't those usually worn by men. After lunch, Kerry came into my office, carrying a freshly cleaned dress. "Your wife asked me to pick up your dress from the cleaners, she said you would be sure to forget, and you needed it for tonight." I laughed nervously, "You mean her dress don't you Kerry?" She held up the black sequined evening dress, it was obviously far too long for Rachel to wear, and we both knew it. "If you say so, where would you like me to put it." I pointed to my coat rack, as I bowed my head to hide the embarrassment, pretending to read some papers. "Over there's fine thanks Kerry." The next time I walked through the office, I could feel Kerry's eyes burning into the back of my head. I couldn't wait to get out of there, and become an anonymous commuter. At least for a while, no one would suspect I had anything to hide. I usually went for a drink with the people in the office on Fridays, but tonight I just wanted to get away. I didn't know whether Kerry had mentioned anything to them, but I couldn't face the thought of their looking at me. "Ah there you are Phil, Kerry said you left early, aren't you feeling well?" I wanted to abuse her for the humiliation she'd caused me, but I had realised on the way home, it was all in my head, except for one idle comment from Kerry. "I'm fine, I just didn't feel like a drink tonight." "I'm glad you're home early, and I see you've got the dress, good. I decided to make dinner for us, a special meal. And we can both dress formally now you have your own evening dress. Why don't you go into the bedroom and try it on, wait, I'll come in and help you with your bra shall I?" Instead of the tissues, Rachel had a new idea for stuffing my bra. She'd spotted a packet of, almost skin coloured, balloons at a novelty shop. She quarter filled two of them with, of all things, cooking oil. Once they were stuffed into the bra, they looked, so long as you didn't look too closely, and felt very real. Once the dress was fitted round my chest, I had to admit it looked quite realistic. The dress was a little baggy in places, but it fitted reasonably well, not that I was thrilled about that, I just thought it might be of interest to the fashion conscious. Rachel and I chatted like the lovers we were, over an excellent dinner. The only difference being, as I needed to be reminded, I called her Mistress Rachel. "I almost forgot Phil, I decided to cancel your golf game for tomorrow, but don't worry, I made a booking for you on Sunday. I need you to help me with the shopping tomorrow." I hate shopping, and Rachel knows it, this was going to be her worst punishment yet. I thought, as I cleared away the dishes. I didn't realise how prophetic that thought would be. As we set off for the shops, Rachel seemed to almost flaunt her ever growing - scarlet today - fingernails at me, as a constant reminder of my folly in misjudging her willpower. We did all the grocery shopping; Rachel asked them to deliver, as we had other things to do. This struck me as unusual, normally groceries were all she bought on Saturdays. As we walked down the street, she stopped at one of those opportunity shops. "Let's go in here, you never know what treasures you find in these sort of places." She suggested innocently. After browsing around the shop for a while, we came to the women's clothing area. My blood froze in my veins as I finally grasped the significance of our visit to this particular shop. In our less affluent days, Rachel used to say they had the best range of women's clothes in the city, and she frequently bought outfits there. I knew that she intended to buy clothing for me, and I wanted to run from the shop as fast as I could. As I hesitated, an assistant, a woman in her mid to late forties, came over and asked if we needed any help. "Not at the moment thanks, we're just looking." Rachel replied. I decided not to run after all, it seemed she had no intention of embarrassing me. Oh God, how wrong could I have been? Rachel flicked through a rack of dresses, seeing nothing she liked, she moved on to another rack, this time finding a floral dress, which appealed to her. She took it from the hanger, and held it up tantalisingly. I knew what was coming, but my legs seemed powerless to move. As she approached me, I begged her with my eyes, not to do this. But she was unwavering in her determination to prove her domination over me. She slowly lifted the dress to my frame. Settling it against my shoulders, she instructed me to hold it, while she took a backward step, ostensibly to inspect the overall effect. But in truth, to enjoy my humiliation at her hands. Once she got started, there was no stopping her. She held up dress after dress, rejecting most, accepting an occasional one. She even solicited the advice of the stunned assistant, asking if she thought I had the colouring to get away with wearing a grey mini. Having selected about a dozen dresses, we moved on to the undergarments. Here I was instructed to model slips, both full and half. Rachel bought six, three of each. She asked the assistant if she had any panties, "I'm tired of him always wearing mine, it's time he had some of his own. She bought about a dozen pairs, in assorted colours and styles, including a pair of ridiculous navy blue knickers. "You can wear these with your schoolgirl outfit." She laughed. The assistant was becoming almost as enthusiastic as Rachel, whether at the thought of humiliating me, or at the prospect of what must have been an enormous sale, I never knew, nor at that moment cared. She suggested to Rachel, that some of the dresses may be a little small for me, and when Rachel moved to replace them, the assistant quickly indicated the foundation garments. They were in their element, holding corsets round my body, fastening suspender belts on me, and making me hold roll-ons next to me. They even found some bras with padding built in, and a gathering crowd looked on mockingly as they were fastened around my chest. I'd worn a sloppy sweater on purpose, so my oil filled bra wasn't too noticeable. But Rachel soon drew attention to it, by lifting my sweater and removing the balloons. After selecting several more articles, Rachel asked the assistant to total up the purchase. I breathed a silent sigh of relief; my ordeal was almost over. But Rachel had one more humiliation planned. "Do you have any shoes in his size Pam?" She was now on first name terms with the assistant. "Oh we're bound to have, let's have a look shall we?" I was ushered over to the shoe section, where, to my horror, there were hundreds of pairs of shoes in racks. "What about these Rachel?" When Pam held up a pair of 4" stiletto heels. Rachel could hardly contain her delight. "Phil, try these on, no silly, take off you socks as well." My stockinged feet and scarlet toenails were now on display for everybody. To this day, I still consider that Saturday to be the most humiliating experience of my life. Of course other things happened to me over the next weeks, as I will continue to narrate, but the first public humiliation, - like the first lover - is the one that you always remember. Rachel loves shoes, and in addition to the six pairs she bought for me, she found two pairs for herself. "Phil is going to enjoy licking these Pam, I don't know how I can thank you for all your help." "I do." Pam replied mysteriously. "You could invite me round for a viewing, a sort of fashion parade. That's if Phil doesn't mind." "It doesn't matter whether he does or not," Rachel said, "I'd love you to come round, how about tonight, say 7 o'clock. We could have dinner, then Phil could model his new clothes for us." She gave Pam the address, and ordered me to gather the bags, then walked out of the shop, I could feel everyone staring as I made a hurried exit in her wake. If I'd had any hopes of things getting easier over the next weeks, Rachel had just dashed them well and truly. Pam arrived right on 7. I'd been allowed to wear a black knee length dress, on top of my usual underwear. My feet were squeezed into the high heels Pam had first chosen. And I found it very difficult to walk, as I teetered over to answer the door. I hardly felt embarrassed at all, as Pam entered, commenting on my clothing as she passed into the room. I suppose I was used to her remarks, and accepted her as a co-tormentor with Rachel. I served dinner to the two ladies; I was permitted to eat in the kitchen, though I had very little appetite, as I anticipated the evening ahead. It lived up to, - or down to - my worst expectations. I paraded in one outfit after another, Rachel insisted I wiggle my hips like a real model, and at one stage, I went sprawling on the floor as my tenuous control of the high heels was momentarily lost. Incredible as it may sound, this was the most embarrassing moment of the whole evening, despite what happened later. But I'm jumping ahead of my story. When it was time to try on the grey mini, it was soon apparent that it wouldn't fit. This was the cue for Pam to suggest the red corset they'd both liked so much. Since it had a built in bra, the one I was wearing was removed. "He's not very hairy is he." Pam commented as they fitted the full- length corset to my frame. "That's because I insist on his shaving his body, as I told him, I don't like those little hairs in my teeth when I suck him." "You allow him to have sex then?" Pam sounded a little surprised. Over dinner, she had been appraised of the situation, and my slavery. "Of course, after all, I want him happy, and it's also a useful form of punishment. I get him aroused quite regularly, but he hasn't been allowed to come for a few days now. I think I may permit it tonight though, after all, he's been very good today, don't you think?" "Without doubt, and knowing you the way I think I do, he'll fill a bucket when you finally permit him to come." "We'll see." Rachel smiled. As they chatted, ignoring me completely, they tightened the corset around my body. It wasn't so much uncomfortable, as restricting. It felt as though my whole body was being squeezed, - which of course, it was - and the only problem seemed to be a difficulty in breathing. I've read articles about Victorian women who used to pass out because of their tight corsets. And I had visions of collapsing at any moment. I didn't of course, My waist was only pulled in about 4", whereas the Victorians used to get their waists down to ludicrous sizes. A side effect of the tight corset, was a fairly impressive cleavage. Padding was no longer necessary. Then, with their assistance, because bending was out of the question, I pulled the mini dress on. It actually fitted quite well, though it exposed the top of my stockings, making me look like a hooker from the neck down. Pam mentioned this. "Don't you think we should do something about his face, after all, he's dressed like a hooker, shouldn't his face be made up the same way?" Rachel laughed, and they set about transforming my face with very heavy make up. My hair is quite long, so they teased it up to a more feminine style, then, satisfied, they decided I could stay in that outfit for the rest of the night. I was sent into the bedroom for the nail polish. Rachel had no intentions of allowing me to forget the reason for my predicament, just because Pam was there. I spent the next half-hour painting Mistress Rachel's nails peach. Then Rachel said, "Under the circumstances, I don't think I can expect you to do your own toes tonight. So you may take the polish away. Wait a minute, Pam, would you like Phil to do your nails, he's becoming quite an expert." "I'd love it, are you sure you don't mind Rachel?" "I'm positive, Phil, start with her hands. You want your toes done as well don't you Pam?" "Yes please, but I'm afraid my feet may be a little smelly, I didn't have time to shower before I came here tonight." "That's okay, Phil will soon fix that, won't you Phil?" I nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?" "Yes Mistress Rachel." It was the first time I'd used her title that night, and the ladies exchanged knowing looks. Finishing Pam's fingernails, I turned to go and bring some soap and water. "Where are you going Phil?" Rachel asked. I told her. "That won't be necessary, you can use your tongue, that is, if you don't mind Pam." "No not at all." Pam replied, quickly disposing of her shoes. She started to remove her tights, but Rachel said I would do it, after I'd cleaned her feet. As I moved to her feet, I was revolted by the odour. It wasn't particularly strong, it was just that, well it was a stranger's odour. I managed to ignore it, after a few abortive efforts, and soon, I was lapping at her feet, trying my best to get between her nylon covered toes. Rachel decided I would do a better job if I removed the tights, so I obeyed. While Pam was not particularly attractive, she did have a certain quality, and when my hands came into contact with the top of her tights, I found myself becoming aroused. I pulled them down quickly, and returned to my task, fortunately neither lady had noticed my distress, and I was able to return to my licking without comment. Once I was aroused, the feet took on a whole new perspective, and I began to relish the musky taste as I ran my tongue between Pam's toes. I was quite disappointed when Rachel decided they were clean enough, and I should begin painting the nails. As I performed my duty, Pam, who was becoming far more relaxed, asked Rachel a few questions about my slavery. As she answered, Rachel, as was now the norm, took photographs of me working on Pam's toes. "But how do you know he isn't sneaking off when you're asleep, and, ermm, relieving himself." "Oh that's easy, I tie him to the bed every night." "You're kidding, I wish I'd had the courage to do that to my ex husband, he was hopeless in bed, and I would have loved to live out some of my fantasies with him. But all he ever did was sleep." "What sort of fantasies did you have?" Rachel asked, her curiosity piqued. "Well, it's a little embarrassing to talk about, but mostly, exactly what you're doing with Phil, but more with me forcing him, you know, catching him unaware and tying him up. I almost did it one night, but I was scared I may make a mess of the knot." Pam laughed nervously. "That was my biggest fantasy, just tying a man up." "Well that's easy fixed, why don't you practice on Phil?" "Oh I couldn't, I'm sure he wouldn't like it for starters, but I wouldn't know what to do anyway." I looked up from my painting, 'Damn right she couldn't,' I thought to myself, there was no way I was going to let Pam tie me up. She didn't win the bet, so I owed her nothing. "Of course you could, just start with something simple, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. And as for Phil not liking it. He's my slave, and as such, he'll do whatever he's told. Won't you Phil?" She had me there, according to the terms of the bet; I had no choice in the matter. I stood up in front of Rachel, having finished Pam's toes, I thought of defying her, but one look at that face and I knew she'd make me regret it. "Yes Mistress Rachel, whatever you say." I answered. "Good, when you put the polish in the bedroom, you can bring a couple of your old ties for Pam, there are plenty you can't use anymore. Well, what are you waiting for?" She snapped, as I hesitated. I quickly collected the nail polish, and raced into the bedroom. Returning with three of my ties. I handed them to Pam, then waited for instructions. Pam flushed as she held the ties. "I can't, I don't know..." "Turn around and kneel in front of Pam." Rachel interrupted. I followed her orders and knelt with my back to them. "Go ahead Pam, he won't bite." Pam leaned forward and took my left arm in her hand; she pulled it back gently, as if scared to hurt me. Then she tied one of the ties round my wrist. She hesitated, and Rachel gave her a few words of encouragement. I wanted to pull my arms away, but Rachel stood up beside me to take even more Polaroid's, and the expression on her face as she looked at me, was one of warning. Pam's confidence increased, and she pulled my other arm around, this time more forcefully. She bent it up my back, and brought the other one up to it, securing my wrists together. Then she wrapped another tie round my neck, and fastened it to the first. For someone who had apparently never done this before, she did one hell of a job of immobilising me. If I pulled hard on my arms, I would only succeed in choking myself. I waited nervously for the next move, hoping Rachel would decide that was enough. They examined the knots together; Rachel complimented her on her efficiency. "Don't you think Pam's done a good job Phil?" She asked. "Turn around." I shuffled round to face them. "Aren't you going to thank Pam for being so lenient with you, I'm sure I would have been far more aggressive if I'd been in her place." I started to say thank you but Rachel cut me off with a curt, "Not like that idiot, I'm sure she'd enjoy having her pussy eaten. Wouldn't you Pam?" I was horrified, "NO, I won't do..." With a lightning move that shocked the hell out of me, Rachel slapped me hard across the face. "I can see I've been far too lenient with you myself. You've insulted our guest, and you've insulted me. Believe me, you'll pay for that. Now do as you're told." I know this will sound ridiculous, but despite all that had happened that day, the way I was dressed, the way I'd been treated all night, and the way Rachel had spoken to me. That slap was the most embarrassing thing that had happened to me since my slavery had begun. It was as if I'd been a willing participant in everything that had preceded it, but now, Rachel was showing the world how much control she could exert. Still stunned from the vicious slap and all it's implications, I moved my head towards Pam's knees. Still unsure of herself, she separated them slightly as I moved closer and was given a smile of reassurance when she glanced at Rachel. I licked her knee gently, and she immediately opened her legs wider. "Shouldn't I take my panties off?" She asked Rachel. "No don't bother, he can work round them, after the way he insulted you, I have no intention of making anything easy for him." Rachel's words sounded an ominous warning in my ears; to accompany the ringing which her slap had given me. I worked my way up Pam's leg until I reached the crotch of her panties. Then, with some difficulty, I managed to force my tongue in the side of her panties and into her, now soaked, pussy. She moaned as I pushed my insistent tongue deeper into her. I have always enjoyed eating pussy, and have had quite a few in my time. So once I was there, it no longer seemed important who's pussy I was eating, and I launched myself into the work, encouraged by the moans and gyrations that accompanied my thrusting tongue. It was obvious Pam was unused to being eaten, and it was equally obvious, she hadn't had sex of any description in quite a while, because, in a very short time she was grinding and moaning in the final throes of orgasm. I tried to continue licking her after she'd come, but she pushed my head away as she became over sensitive. "I suppose you think that makes up for everything?" Rachel snapped, as she glared into my face, which was glistening from a mixture of sweat and Pam's juices. "Well it doesn't, not by a long way. Now get into the bedroom while I discuss your punishment with Pam." I walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. I've read stories of how the most frightening part of any punishment, is the waiting. I never believed that, until that moment. I waited 15 minutes for the girls to follow me in and believe me, by the time they arrived I was scared. "Pam wanted to forgive you, but I prevailed on her to teach you a lesson. I hope you learn from your mistakes, because I assure you, I won't be anywhere near as kind to you in the future." For a brief moment, I thought I was going to be let off, but my hopes were dashed by Rachel's' next words. "Tell him what we decided Pam." "I'm not sure I..." "Come on now Pam, we agreed, remember?" "Yes, all right, Phil, Rachel is going to bring me a cane from the garden shed, and I'm going to lay you on your stomach, pull down your panties, and thrash you. As I do, you're going to count the strokes out loud, if you miss any, we start again until we reach 20. Is that right Rachel?" She asked, as she turned to Rachel for support. "Almost, but you forgot about the thanking part." "Oh yes, after each strike, you will thank me and say you're sorry. Is that all?" Again she looked to Rachel who nodded, then they both left the room. I don't know where Rachel learned about this psychological business of making me wait, but I do know she was very good at it. I was shitting myself by the time they returned. I looked up at Rachel, begging her wordlessly not to do this. She was unmoved, and sat on a chair in the corner to observe the beating. After preparing me as she'd indicated, Pam raised the cane for the first blow. It was surprisingly gentle, and I was sure I could put up with twenty of these. "Thank you, I'm sorry, one." I recited. "NO you idiot, 'One, thank you Pam, I'm sorry I insulted you. Now start again, and this time get it right, and Pam, really give it to him, he won't break, and he deserves it for what he did to you." Pam brought the cane down again, this time much harder, the severity, coupled with the searing pain, took my breath away momentarily. But I recovered, and said my piece. After the sixth stroke, I forgot to thank her, Rachel fumed and the count restarted. By the time it was over, I was almost screaming, tears were pouring down my face, even though the area being beaten was now almost numb. Or maybe that was just some mental block my mind had used to relieve the pain. Either way, when Pam delivered the final stroke, I was a blubbering mess, and had great difficulty in saying my lines. "I suppose that will have to do," Rachel decided. "I'm not too thrilled with the way you said it those last few times, but lucky for you, I can see Pam is getting tired. Come on Pam, let's get a drink." To me she said, "You have 5 minutes, then I expect to see you in the other room." They walked out leaving me sobbing into the pillow. I dutifully emerged from the bedroom 5 minutes later. My panties were round my knees, and the girls laughed at the sight as I teetered in on the high heels, my hobbled knees making walking all the more difficult. The two ladies left me standing in front of them, as they discussed what to do next. A change had come over Pam, she was far more confident, I suppose once you've had a guy eat your pussy, then you've given him a hiding, there's little reason to be nervous around him from then on. They decided to have me try on some more of my underwear. So, after untying my hands, they told me to undress. "Slowly, let's see a bit of tease." Rachel demanded. I moved awkwardly as I tried to look provocative, in the way I imagined strippers do. I've never actually been to a strip show; so, apart from the things I'd seen on TV I had little to go on. As I dropped my dress to the floor, Rachel stopped me, "That's enough of that, you're hopeless. Come over here, If we wait for you to strip it'll take all night." When she unfastened my corset the relief was incredible. I felt dizzy when I was able to breathe properly for the first time in ages. Rachel and Pam put me into several more undergarments, every time I was dressed in a new corset, or roll-on, Rachel took photographs of me. She even had Pam take a couple of her standing over me in a menacing pose. The way she was taking the snaps, we would need several albums to fit them all in. Around midnight, Pam decided it was time to leave, she thanked Rachel for, as she put it, a night she would have fantasies about for years. Then she surprised me, by coming over to me and kissing me passionately on the lips. "Thank you Phil, I'll never forget you as long as I live." I was quite moved, I knew she was completely genuine in her gratitude, and it almost made up for all she'd done to me, almost. Rachel saw her out, I heard them swapping phone numbers, and, in a funny way, I was glad there was a chance I'd meet her again. Maybe it was that syndrome the psychologists talk about, where hostages sometimes fall in love with their captors, I don't know. I was far from in love with Pam, but I did feel quite fond of her. Rachel and I went straight to bed. I was wearing black corselet and fishnet stockings, which I started to remove. "Leave those on, and get into bed." She ordered. "Apart from the little incident, which I think you were fully punished for, you were very good today." As she spoke, she tied me up in my usual sleeping position. "How would you like that inside me?" She pointed to my hard on. "Are you kidding, I'd love it." She raised her eyebrows, "We'll talk about your lack of respect tomorrow, but right now I'm feeling pretty horny. I doubt you'll last very long in your present condition, so I'd better ease the pressure." She leaned over and took my erection in her mouth, she'd been quite right; I lasted about 10 seconds before I exploded into her mouth. When she'd milked me dry, she began licking my nipples and nibbling my neck. She knew how this always turned me on. She talked to me as she stroked my limp penis, telling me how much she was enjoying my slavery, and how she really looked forward to the next three weeks. As she continued, asking me how I'd enjoyed her treatment so far, my prick began to swell. Before long, it was fully erect again. Rachel wasted no time in making full use of my swollen cock. Climbing over my body, she quickly impaled herself on my erection and began pumping slowly up and down, all the time moaning with pleasure. Tied, as I was, I was almost unable to move, so she controlled the whole process. Gradually, she increased the tempo, her excitement rising to a fever pitch. It occurred to me, that in imposing celibacy on me, she had inadvertently deprived herself, of what I knew she enjoyed most, a good hard fuck. Before long, her body convulsed in wave after wave as she reached sexual fulfillment. She had three more orgasms before I was ready to come again, and when I finally shot my load, she screamed as one last orgasm pulsed through her body. We lay side by side, our breathing gradually slowing. Rachel stroked my chest and said. "You'd better get up early tomorrow, I want my breakfast before you go to golf." I was amazed. "You mean I can still go?" "Of course you can, I said you could didn't I." She kissed me gently, and turned over, switching out the light. "By the way, leave those on under your golf clothes. Goodnight." I knew she'd come up with something, how the hell was I going to play golf in this outfit. Well, I suppose it could be worse, she could have made me play in the full corset I'd worn earlier that night. I went to golf the next morning after serving Rachel her breakfast. She decided I should eat something before I left, and it turned out to be her. I explained my posture to my golf partners, as a bad back, for which I had to wear a special surgical corset. They were quite concerned; they even took the ball out of the holes for me, to save me from having to bend. An incredible thing happened, I won the day's event. Without going into technical detail, I'll just say that thanks to the corselet, I had to keep my back straight, and adjust my swing accordingly. I couldn't do a thing wrong. Every shot was straight down the middle; I've never played so well in my life. When I got home, I told Rachel what had happened. She couldn't stop laughing. "Maybe you'd better wear it all the time for golf in future." She suggested. She gave me a kiss of congratulations, then her expression changed slightly. "Now that you've had your fun, it's time to get down to work. Go into the bedroom and change into the outfit I've laid out on the bed. Then report back to me here." I was far too happy about my victory to let anything upset me today. Or so I thought, until I saw the clothes she'd laid out. It was a schoolgirls uniform, gymslip, white blouse, and those disgusting navy blue knickers she'd bought, and even a pair of long black stockings. My mood changed dramatically, I wanted to go back and call the whole thing off, but it had gone too far for that. I slowly undressed, and donned the outfit. I couldn't remember her buying it at the opportunity shop. Then I remembered this was what Rachel was wearing the first time we met. It was at a fancy dress party about six months ago. I remember thinking how sexy she looked, and asking a friend about her. It wasn't until two months later that I asked her out. Looking at myself in the mirror, I can tell you, Rachel looked far better in these clothes than I did. I decided to get her to wear them again when the month was up. Rachel was reading the Sunday papers when I entered. I expected her to laugh, but instead, she pointed to the floor in front of her, signaling me to stand there. "I've decided to teach you a lesson, quite literally. You will sit at the desk, and write out one thousand times, 'I must remember to give Mistress Rachel her correct title.' And make sure it's neat, or I'll have to think of another punishment. Well don't just stand there, get to it." 'My God' I thought, 'She's serious.' "Mistress Rachel, can't we do something else please?" "Okay, I'll give you a choice, the lines, or fifty with the cane, but before you answer I warn you, I can hit a lot harder than Pam. Well which..." Before she could finish, I was at the desk and writing. "I thought you might see it my way." She remarked as she picked up the newspaper. It took over three hours to complete the lines. My hand was aching so badly, by the time I'd finished, I could hardly hold the pen. Rachel looked them over then, satisfied with the work, she tore them up and threw them in the waste paper basket. For one horrible moment I thought she was going to make me do them again. But after a pause obviously intended to make me think that, she said, "Very good, now go and change into your sexiest underwear and make dinner, I'm starving." I was so relieved, I almost ran into the bedroom. She stopped me in my tracks with, "Haven't you forgotten something?" I turned to face her, my mind racing, what could she mean. Then it struck me. "Sorry. Thank you Mistress Rachel." She smiled "Your welcome dear." I decided to wear black stockings with red satin panties, matching bra, and a black suspender belt. I would have worn red, but I didn't have one. I put some low heels, and my apron completed the outfit. As I walked through into the kitchen, Rachel nodded her approval, and went back to the book she was reading. Once again, I was permitted to eat dinner with Rachel. We chatted as we had before the bet. I almost forgot my situation, but a glance down at my clothing, soon reminded me. I'd removed my apron, and was sitting there in my underwear. As I cleared the dishes away, Rachel seemed to be considering something, "I've decided, since you like that underwear so much, you can wear it to work tomorrow." I stopped what I was doing, and was about to protest. "Yes, was there something you wished to say?" She was almost daring me to argue. "No Mistress Rachel, thank you. Would you like coffee now Mistress Rachel?" "Yes, and get a cup for yourself if you wish, then come over here and rub my feet." Later that night, before we went to bed, I had to give Rachel a bath. I removed all my clothing so it wouldn't get wet, then I washed Rachel while she lay in the bath. I wore the black nightie to bed, and was rewarded for my obedience that day, with more incredible sex. I was beginning to enjoy Rachel screwing me, while I lay there helpless. It was as though I could receive all the pleasure without doing any of the work. The next few days were fairly routine, under the new regime that is. I earned no punishments and enjoyed sex with Rachel every night. My secretary Kerry had been making sly comments all week. Obviously she suspected something, and was fishing for information. On Thursday, an important client was in town for a short while, and it was necessary to cancel my squash booking. I was relieved in a way, as I knew I'd be wearing my tracksuit again, and I didn't enjoy the prospects. I called Kerry on the intercom, asking her to cancel my booking, and she made some comment about my skirt being in the wash. It had been a hard day, and I was in no mood for her remarks, so I called her into my office, and gave her a real dressing down. You know the sort of thing, 'If you want to keep your job here,' and, 'remember your position' etc, etc. The upshot was, Kerry left my office in tears. Maybe I'd been a little hard, but she had provoked me. I left the office shortly after; Kerry wasn't at her desk so I was unable to apologise to her. I got home about seven that night. The meeting had been a huge success, and I'd stopped on the way home for a bottle of wine and some flowers for Rachel. I walked in, and handed them to her. "Conscience pricking you is it?" She asked calmly. "I'm sorry, Mistress Rachel," - after writing the lines, I never forgot her title - I don't understand what you mean." "You know very well what I'm talking about," she flared, "I rang you up earlier, Kerry was still sobbing over the tongue-lashing you gave her. The poor girl was shattered." "Oh that, I admit I went a little far, but she had it coming to her. She's been making..." Rachel held up her hand for silence. I obeyed instantly. "I'm glad you feel her humiliation was justified, let's hope you think the same about your punishment. Now, get into the bedroom and strip." If the last two weeks had taught me anything, it had taught me not to argue with Rachel when she was in this mood. I stormed into the bedroom and pulled my clothes off. Then sat on the bed waiting. Rachel came in five minutes later. "Go to the toilet, you won't have the chance later." "But I don't need to..." "GO NOW." I rushed out of the room, I managed to squeeze a few squirts of piss out, and then I raced back to the bedroom. I knew better than to keep Rachel waiting. She was standing next to the bed, holding the full-length corset. As I approached, she spun me round roughly, and fastened the hooks at the back. Then she turned me round to face her, and without a word, she began tugging on the drawstrings. She pulled it in tighter than I'd ever had it before. I doubt it would have pulled in any tighter, no matter how she tried. She made me lie on the bed. "Make yourself hard." She commanded, pointing to my limp prick. I obeyed instantly, grasping my prick in my hand, I began pulling it. Despite my best efforts, fear was keeping me from getting more than semi erect. She stopped me. "That'll have to do, NO, don't let go." She picked up a roll of packing tape from the table, and taped my hand and prick together. Then she taped my wrist to my thigh to make sure I couldn't move it. She had me place my other hand flat against my other thigh, and wrapped the tape round both, from my fingertips to my wrist. I started to ask her what she was doing. But she slapped my face to silence me. Then to ensure my silence, she stuffed two pairs of panties into my mouth, and secured them with more tape. Leaving the room briefly, she returned with a coil of rope I'd bought. I intended to use it as a clothesline, but she had other uses for it. She made a loop, which she slipped over my head, and then she began winding the rope round my body, securing my arms to my sides. She cut the rope when she reached the bottom of my corset, then tied the end off. Slipping the loose end under my chin, she knotted it to my 'rope collar' and took it down my front. Every so often she looped it through one of the crosspieces, and tied a knot, then continued down. At the bottom, she fed the rope between my legs, to one side of my genitals, then standing behind me; she pulled the rope viciously up between the cheeks of my arse. Finally, she worked the rope up my back tying it at the top. She pushed me face down on the bed, then produced that hateful cane from somewhere, and began beating my behind. She'd warned me that she would hit far harder than Pam, and she wasn't kidding. I was writhing in agony when she finally tossed the cane aside and picked up the Polaroid. For some reason, she took three photos instead of the usual two. Then she left me there for a while. On her return she ordered me over to the bedroom cupboard. Opening the door, she thrust the clothes aside, and pushed me in. She took the packing tape, and, starting at my hands, she spiraled it down to my feet, wrapping my legs in the sticky paper, which took several rolls. When she'd immobilized me totally, she took three more photos then, as she closed the door she said, "Goodnight." As I heard the key turn in the lock. The full gravity of my situation struck me. She intended to leave me in this cupboard all night. Unable to move a muscle, and in a standing position. I wanted to scream out at her, but she'd made that impossible. Never in my life, before or since, have I spent such an uncomfortable, terrifying night. Thoughts such as, 'what if she dies, who will know I'm here.' Kept running through my mind. I don't know if I slept, but if I did it was only briefly. Rachel released me early the next morning. After untying the ropes, she took great delight in slowly peeling the tape off. It didn't hurt much; my legs were too numb to feel anything. After sending me to get her breakfast, she admitted I would be useless at work that day, and called the office, saying I had bad migraine. It wasn't entirely false; I did have a splitting headache. Before leaving for work, Rachel gave me my orders for the day. I was to clean the house from top to bottom, and have a gourmet meal prepared for her when she came home. She'd ring me during the day if she thought of anything else. I had a feeling she would. I slept for a few hours, longer than I'd intended in fact. It was about 10 a.m. when the phone rang. "Meet me outside your office at one o'clock, you're going to work this afternoon." She hung up. I raced round the house, cleaning it as best I could in the short time available. Fortunately, I cleaned it frequently, so it wasn't too bad. Then I showered and dressed. As I got to the door, I realised I wasn't wearing any female underwear, so I raced back in and threw on the first things I found. Black lace panties, matching bra and suspender belt, and black stockings. Then I realised; I was wearing Rachel's underwear. It was too late to change now; I just had to hope Rachel wouldn't notice. I was a few minutes late, but Rachel didn't seem to care. We went to a local restaurant for a quick meal, and she acted as though nothing had happened the night before. "You look tired, didn't you sleep well." "Not very, no. I was cold, and kept getting cramps in my legs." I replied. "Oh dear, maybe you should change your habits, I'm sure you'd sleep better if you had a clear conscience. By the way, I have something for you to give to Kerry." She handed me a padded envelope. I was about to open it when she said, "No, don't open it, it's a surprise. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll like it." We ate lunch, and Rachel said goodbye. "I'll ring Kerry later to make sure she likes her gift." Walking into the office building, I was dying to open the envelope but I knew she'd ask Kerry, so I left it sealed. I entered the office and was pleased to see Kerry hard at work despite my absence. "Good afternoon Kerry." "Oh, good afternoon Phil, I didn't expect to see you until Monday, how are you feeling." "Much better thanks. By the way, I'm sorry about yelling at you last night; I had no right to treat you like that. Oh, and this is for you." I handed her the envelope. "What is it?" She asked as she accepted it. "Open it and see." I said, as I walked into my office. A few minutes later Kerry walked into my office, I was a little surprised since she usually knocks before entering. As I looked up from my desk, she closed the door behind her. Then, to my surprise, she turned the key in the lock. There was a peculiar expression on her face as she sauntered slowly, almost provocatively, over to my desk and sat on it crossing her stockinged legs and smiling a peculiar smile at me. "Yes Kerry, what can I do for you." I asked. She handed me a sealed envelope with my name on it, and smiled silently as I opened it. "Did you like the gift?" I asked pulling a letter out of the envelope. She didn't speak for a moment, and as I read the letter, I felt the colour drain from my face. "So far, yes," She replied, "And I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy the rest even more." The letter was from Rachel and read: Dear Slave, By now Kerry has locked your door, so you won't be disturbed. You are to strip down to the underwear you'd better be wearing. Then you are to kneel at Kerry's feet beg her forgiveness and lick her feet until she decides to allow you to stop. I have informed her of the contents of this note, so she will know what you have to do. If you dare to disobey me, she will call me immediately, and I will come straight round to your office. And I guarantee you won't like the consequences if I do. Unless you wish to spend another night like last night, I suggest you obey immediately. YOUR MISTRESS Rachel. P.S. Kerry has copies of the photographs I took last night. I thought she May enjoy seeing what I did to you, now strip. As I'd been reading, Kerry had seated herself on the sofa in the corner of my office. I started to rise, then hesitated. She saw my hesitation and said. "I wonder if the girls in the typing pool would care to see these photo's?" I jumped to my feet pulling my shirt open as I rose. In no time, I was kneeling at her feet. She crossed her legs raising the top one to my lips. "I think we'll start with the shoes on, don't you?" I had no choice; I licked her shoes, covering every inch with my saliva. After I'd finished both shoes, I begged her to forgive me for my treatment of her. She just smiled and flipped her shoes off. "Now the feet, but more slowly this time, I want to savour this moment." She pushed her foot into my mouth and I sucked. Once the initial exposure was over, I quite enjoyed sucking Kerry's feet. It gave me the chance to admire her legs close up. Unlike Rachel, Kerry was a tall shapely girl, and very attractive. Not that Rachel was unattractive, she was beautiful, but as I said earlier, she was quite small. In all modesty, I believe Kerry and I could have had something going at one stage, but I made it quite clear, In a diplomatic way of course, that I never mixed business and pleasure. Several of the guys in the office had asked her out; in fact two of them, the office wolves, had had dates with her. They were both loud mouths and yet for some reason neither of them ever mentioned their nights out, or boasted about their conquests. I often wondered about that. I'd been giving the first foot all my attention for about ten minutes, and was ready to move onto the other. Just as I took it into my mouth, the phone rang. I hesitated; assuming Kerry would have to go to her desk to answer it. But she simply lifted the extension next to her hand. "Good afternoon, Mister Barlow's office... Oh hello Missus Barlow, - everyone at the office believed Rachel and I were married - That's very kind of you, Rachel it is. Yes, at this very moment actually, would you like to talk to him? Just a second, I'll get a pencil and paper. Okay I'm ready go ahead... Yes... Yes... Got that... Tonight, well I did have a sort of date, but why not, it sounds delicious... Thank you, maybe we'll save it for tonight... Oh yes, actually I have a few ideas, which may interest you... I look forward to it, around seven, oh and thanks again. Bye Rachel." "That was Rachel, she said I could take as long as I wanted with you, and when I'm finished you're to go home. She wants you to cook garlic prawns, followed by veal cordon bleu for dinner. That's another little secret you kept from me Phil, I didn't know you could cook. I look forward to finding out all your other secrets tonight, Rachel has asked me to join you for dinner." I didn't know whether to be pleased or concerned at the news. I definitely wasn't surprised though. Before long, Kerry reluctantly decided to permit me to get dressed. She decided I'd need time to do the shopping, and she didn't want to have to wait too long for dinner. As I wandered around the shops, I considered the enigma, which was Kerry. Now I thought about it, she had never struck me as the type who would go running out of the office in tears. In fact, before it happened I would have sworn she was the one girl in the office who never cried. Surely it couldn't be some elaborate hoax on her part. Or could it, I imagined I'd find out tonight. I got home about three, and prepared the prawns right away, I like to marinate them for a while before cooking. It's one of my secrets to good food. I'd just finished clearing the things away when Rachel walked in. "Is everything ready? Good I think you'd better go and have a little nap, I wouldn't want you embarrassing me in front of Kerry, by falling face first into your food just because you didn't sleep well last night." This was a rare treat, and I took full advantage of it. I was in bed at the drop of a hat. But then, the most ridiculous thing happened. I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, but there was no way I was able to fall asleep. This morning had been different somehow; it was akin to the way the sourest of stolen apples always tasted better than a bought one when you were a kid. I'd stolen that sleep without Rachel knowing, but now, well it was different. Then it dawned on me. For nearly 2 weeks now, I'd spent every night tied helplessly to the bed. It would seem I'd got used to sleeping that wa