Lightly proofed and edited by the reclusive Mike Ink.

The story of Jim and Samantha continues.

Three and a half weeks after the most absolutely fantastic canoe trip I’d ever had, my beloved Samantha sat me down on her couch in her apartment and dropped a bombshell. Sam spoke those words that have terrorized mankind throughout the ages.

“Jim, I’m pregnant,” she’d said to me.

And like the typical male I blurted out, “How’d that happen?” regretting saying it almost immediately.

Like a typical male, Samantha thought. I’d better hold my tongue here; this is serious. Jim has always known what to do. I’ll need his guidance more than ever now.

I knew Sam was taking birth control pills. I also knew that, taken correctly, they were 98 percent effective. Thinking back, I could remember at least one time she’d forgotten, taking two to make up for it. Sam silently watched as I ticked off the weeks since her last period on my fingers. When I had to use my second hand, I realized we were in trouble. I counted ahead.

“You were on your fertile time during our trip,” I said.

“It would seem so,” Sam answered.

The trip in the park’s wilderness had been so perfect. I sat there, remembering. We’d screwed at least two, often three times almost every day. I’d pumped so much cum into Sam she could have floated a canoe in it all. How could a few tiny pills compete against that? I began to smile, and Sam caught my look. I looked at her, her face cloaked with an expression of worry.

I slid off her couch and onto my knees before her. I took her hand in mine. I looked into her eyes and said, “Samantha McKinley, will you marry me?”

Sam’s eyes grew wide and then a little grin began in the corners of her mouth.

“Jim, quit fooling around,” she said. “This is serious.”

I acted surprised. “Who’s kidding?” I asked. “Look,” I said. “You have three choices here. You can get rid of it, have an abortion. You can leave me and go off to have the baby by yourself. Raise it without me, or give it up for adoption. Or we can be together as a family. I don’t want to lose you, Sam.”

“What about the baby?” she asked.

What about the baby. The memories hit me like a brick. I was suddenly unable to hold my gaze on Sam’s eyes and I looked downward. “My first wife and I,” I began, “we’d talked about starting a family, just before the accident took her. We were both twenty-nine then. We had our whole lives to look forward to.” I looked up. I felt the tears in my eyes, but I went on. “I know you’re still young and probably weren’t expecting to be a mom just yet, but there it is. You must realize how good we are for each other, Sam; I know I do. I want to be with you always. I want to have children with you. There’s a part of me inside you now, my child. Marry me, Samantha, stay with me forever.”

The seconds ticked by as Sam was lost in silence. I was staring at her tummy now, under the shirt she wore, picturing a little creature taking shape inside her. A miniature Samantha. Guenivere, Gwen for short. Yes.

“Guenivere, Gwen. Do you like that name?” I softly asked.

“What if it’s a boy?” Sam said.

A boy? “I don’t know,” I said. “What names do you like.”

“I had an uncle Claude who was always nice to me,” she said. “But that name’s kinda out of style now. My mother’s brother’s named Angus.”

“Angus Bradson? I don’t know.”

Samantha began to smile at that thought. Seize the moment; press on, as Mike would say. I did.

“Sam, will you marry me?”

Sam looked deep into my eyes. “Yes, Jim. I will.”

A 200-pound weight lifted off my chest and I could breath again. I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Thank you, Sam. I love you.”

“I seem to be madly in love with you too, Sir,” she said.

“In love, but not mad,” I said. “It’ll be right, Sam. I know it will.”

“I hope so.”

“No. Believe me, Sam; believe in yourself. You know everything’s going to be just wonderful.”

“Yes,” she quietly said. “It will.”

So that was that. Samantha went off to fix some tea while I was left with my thoughts. I’d only met Sam less than three months ago, and now, perhaps in a month or two, we’d be joined as one in marriage. Shortly after, we’d have a new baby to care for.

I called to her in the kitchen. “Have you told your folks yet?”

“Not yet,” she said. “My doctor’s doing another test to make sure. He’s going to call tomorrow.”

“So you don’t know that it’s certain yet.”

Sam came out carrying a tray with the tea and a plate of cookies. “I’m sure, Jim. I’m sure.” Sam put down the tray and sat beside me. “I threw up this morning.”

“Oh.”

“My period’s two weeks late.”

“I would say those are pretty definite symptoms, all right.”

Samantha turned to me and looked at me straight on.

“Jim,” she asked, “are you mad about this, about me getting pregnant?”

“No,” I said. “Of course not. Are you upset about it?”

“A little,” Sam answered. “I knew I’d want children someday. Just not this soon. I’m a bit scared.”

“It’s not something to worry about,” I told her. “Child birth is a most natural thing. Women have been having babies for ages now.” Sam waited for me to say more so I went on. “You’re young, Sam. You’re healthy; it’s going to be all right for you. I’m no doctor but I worked in a hospital for nine years now. I’ve seen things, heard things. You’ll be fine, believe me.”

“Is that where you learned how to give a girl such great orgasms?”

I laughed. “That’s where I learned where all the naughty bits were. The great orgasms come from you, darling.”

Over tea and cookies, we talked about what we were going to do. Sam’s parents lived in Winnipeg, a city about a two-hour plane ride away.

“I used to think I’d like a big church wedding,” She said, “with a big reception after, but since I moved here to Toronto, I lost touch with a lot of friends back home. My older brother works at the Canadian embassy in Greece. He’s married, has a Greek wife and two kids.”

“I’m an only child,” I said. “There’s a few aunts and uncles, cousins around. My parents moved to Florida three years ago. They’ve got a nice condo on the ocean. The U.S. Thanksgiving is next month; we could go see them. I guess you should introduce me to your folks too, sometime soon.”

“I guess you’re right.”

At least we made one definite plan that evening, Sam would give up her apartment and move in with me at the end of the month. Sam had not yet found a suitable job and I told her not to worry about it. My new job wasn’t going all that well, but my house is paid for, and I had insurance money from the plane crash invested wisely, so we would be all right for a while.

I hadn’t expected to sleep with Sam that night, but she asked if I could stay, so I did. I finished in the bathroom and got into her bed. Samantha came out wearing her bracelets with the chain connecting them, nothing else, and slipped under the covers with me, cuddling close. My hand found her hip, then slid down and around her to caress her flat little tummy. Her soon to be big tummy.

“Will you still love me when I’m big and ugly?” she asked.

I patted her stomach. “You’ll get big here, but you’ll never be ugly, Sam. I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

She rolled over on top of me with her hands up around my head, her chain laying across my neck. Wrapping my arms around her, I ran my hands up and down her back, down across her bum, squeezing those two soft, fleshy globes of her lovely ass. I began to feel the tension leave her body as she settled in on top of me. Her mouth was against my ear and she purred softly while I stroked her back.

The half anticipated sex never materialised, which was no great loss. Such a feeling of contentment washed over me lying on my sweetheart’s bed with her on top of me, and knowing that we’d made a firm commitment to one another that evening. Even though the choice had been rather hastily forced upon us, I had no regrets at all. I just prayed that Sam wouldn’t come to regret this decision. She’d fallen asleep on me, so I eased her off and onto her side. She stirred and grunted, but hardly woke, and I held her in my arms as I drifted off.

I was wakened rather rudely the next morning by the sounds of retching coming from the vicinity of Sam’s bathroom. I groggily made my way down the hall to see my lovely fiance with her head in the bowl, driving the porcelain bus. She’d not had the time to take off her bracelets, and one hand was on the rim, the other hand held her hair out of the way, the chain stretched tight under her neck. Kneeling down beside her, I gathered her hair up to hold it, and brought my other arm around her to steady her until she finished being sick. Sam sat back on her heels and I flushed the toilet, then I wet a washcloth to hand to her.

I sat on the edge of the tub. “Feel better?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, Jim, did I wake you?”

I helped her up as I said, “It’s all right, Sam. Don’t apologize. This will probably last for a couple weeks or so. Just morning sickness.”

I ran some water and cupped my hand for Sam to rinse out her mouth, then I kissed her and told her I loved her. I held her as we made our way back to her bedroom and we sat on her bed. Sam’s body still had a few traces of marks from that whipping session at the end of our canoe trip, and I asked her about them.

“Did your doctor see these marks on you?”

Sam giggled. “Yes.”

“And?”

“I told him I fell down,” Sam replied. “I think he knew exactly how these marks happened. I told him that it was OK, and he told me there was a good battered woman’s shelter nearby where I could talk to someone if I needed to. I got a little afraid that he’d report me, maybe get you in trouble or something. I said that we’d done something but it wasn’t anything I didn’t want to have happen. You know, he smiled then, like it was just something normal, and that was the end of it.”

“He probably has seen those kinds of marks before,” I said.

Sam lay back on her bed and I moved closer to kiss her on her tummy.

“So, Mrs. Bradson, when do you want to get married?” I asked. It felt weird calling her that, like talking to my mom or something.

Samantha looked lovely stretched out on the bed in the morning light. She had that radiant beauty that seemed so common in women who were with child, that kind of glow that I’d noticed before with the pregnant set. We started to make plans, but we were both still naked, and the touching began, followed by cuddling, stroking, and, well. Sex with Sam still had that calm peacefulness about it I’d noticed since her last session under the lash. It was stupendously intense, really wonderful, but there wasn’t the urgency about it that she used to have before. Maybe it was because she felt more secure now that she knew we’d be staying together. But perhaps, at least in small part, it was due to that wildly intense scene back in the wilderness a few weeks back.

After we’d finished, Sam made coffee while I called my boss at work, telling him I wouldn’t be in that day. “Personal crisis,” I said. Sam and I went down to see the building manager, who lived on the first floor. Samantha introduced me as the man she was going to marry, and that broke the ice.

“Please, come in, have a drink,” he said. It was kind of early, but we had a small one. When Sam said she wanted to break her lease, the man began the “Tisk tisk, I don’t know,” routine. I stepped in.

“Listen,” I said. "We both know how tight the rental market is right now. Surely you could save us the bother of sub-letting the place till the end of the lease. It would be one less thing we’d have to worry about.

“Please?” Sam added, turning those bright eyes on him, those eyes that always seemed to melt straight into my heart.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

I walked with Sam down the street to a restaurant on the corner for breakfast and we finished the plan. We’d visit with her folks first, then fly to Florida for a few days at my parents’ place. A quiet wedding immediately after, with a week in the Bahamas for a honeymoon. Samantha and James Bradson. That sounded good.

Sam’s landlord caught us on the way back, saying he had some people coming over, wanting to see the apartment. That was quick, I thought. I gave Sam a hand taking down her more erotic artwork, and we put her paintings in my truck. Sam packed up a few more things and took them down, while I called around making travel enquiries. Sam called her doctor to get the results of her pregnancy test. If there was any doubt before, there was none now. Samantha was with child. We toasted with apple juice to her good health, our good fortune.

I drove home that afternoon on a cushion of air. Having children around would be a major change in our lifestyles, of course. There wouldn’t be anymore trips quite like that last one had been, but with a child along for the ride, the rewards would be equally as great. Seeing things through a child’s eyes was something I’d been curious about. Kids look at things in a completely different way. Uncorrupted by the demands of modern life, they have that non-judgemental innocence that has always taken me by surprise, made me often seen the folly of so many of the ways of the adult world.

That child-like innocence stayed in the back of my mind the next day when I confronted the managing editor of the newspaper I was working for. I’d taken the job with the assumption that I’d be able to make some real changes in the operation. But I’d quickly learned that there was little money available to modernize the computer systems in the offices, despite what I’d been told. I’d done what I could with what they had, but there was little more I could accomplish under the present circumstances.

I had a talk with my boss. “Jim,” he said to me, “We’ve been very happy with the changes you’ve made so far. Everyone, who, where you’ve had a hand, has told me things are working a lot smoother now.”

“I can appreciate that, and there’s a lot more that I could do, but the funds just aren’t there to do it.”

“Taking on the new operation has caused some upheaval,” he said. “We’re working hard on finding new advertisement dollars, but until things even out, we have to move slowly.”

Child-like innocence. I smiled, as though I’d just found a shiny new quarter on the street.

“I’m getting married next month,” I blurted out.

“Well, that’s very good news. Blah blah blah.” I wasn’t listening.

“I could take some time off until things settle down more,” I said.

“Well,” he said, “we don’t want to lose you, Jim. You’ve worked hard to help…blah blah. Take some time to get to know your new bride, we’ll keep in touch.”

“OK,” Perfect. “Thank you, Sir,” I added.

I called Sam when I got home. She had the movers in and had wanted to surprise me by being settled into my place when I finished work. “I managed an extended leave of absence off work,” I said. “We’ll have time to visit the folks, get married, and have some nice time off.”

“How long?” she asked.

“Don’t know, a month perhaps. It’ll be good though.”

“They found people to take the apartment,” Sam told me. “I’m getting a refund for the two weeks left on this month.”

“Great. See you soon.”

I shifted things around, made space for Sam’s stuff. Emptied out some drawers for her. By evening, I had my girl happily living at my place.

We got an invite to Mike’s place for dinner on Friday. It was the first time I’d ever heard him speechless when I told him Sam and I were getting married.

“Jim,” he said over the phone, “that’s, uh, great. I…”

“Sam’s pregnant,” I said.

“Huh?”

Mike had composed himself when we got there and he greeted Sam and I at the front door. Sam wore a tight little green dress, and it wouldn’t be long, I thought, before she wouldn’t fit into it. She’d worn no shoes that evening. Barefoot and pregnant.

“Jim, you dog,” Mike said. “You don’t waste any time.” Mike took both of Samantha’s hands in his and kissed her on her cheeks.

“Congratulations,” he said to her. “I’m very happy for both of you.”

Liselle was there, taking Sam by the arm, escorting her into the house, gently touching her. Mike had opened a bottle of really good white wine and they toasted us, the happy couple. Lisa was conspicuous by her absence, and I asked about her.

“Lisa won’t be able to join us this evening,” Mike said. “She’s downstairs. Day eighteen for her, in the cage.” I felt Sam’s grip on my arm get a little tighter. Her excitement began to grow, and Mike immediately picked up on it. “Liselle, why don’t you take Samantha down to visit with your sister?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said excitedly. “Miss, would you like to see Lisa?” Sam looked at me with anticipation in her eyes. I motioned her to go with Liselle.

The two lovely ladies left to go downstairs, through the oak paneled basement rec room, to visit the dungeon. The hidden panel in the wall stood open, and at the top of the steps, Liselle casually removed her short dress to turn nude towards Samantha. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but clothing is usually not allowed for us inside.”

“Well,” Sam said, “I don’t want to break any rules.” With that, Samantha pulled her own dress over her head, then slid her panties down her legs to step out of them. She placed her clothing on the chair beside Liselle’s. The two girls looked at one another for a moment.

“Liselle’s really pretty,” thought Sam. She was an inch taller and her golden hair came down to her waist. Sam’s hair was longer but Liselle had slightly larger breasts. Liselle was a little thicker around the middle. Sam looked down at her own flat tummy. That will change soon.

The two went down the steps. The dungeon door stood open. The lights in the room were dim except for in the area of the cage. Sam could see through the glass panels that marked out the area, the cage’s occupant slowly rocking back and forth within its tight confines. As the two girls approached, Lisa let out a low, strangled groan. Samantha automatically reached for the comfort of another human, and took Liselle’s hand into her own. Liselle looked at Sam, Sam caught her glance, then looked down at her hand clasping that of the pretty blonde twin’s. She didn’t let go though. Rather, she gave Liselle’s hand a gentle squeeze. The two walked over to the cage. Through the opening in the glass panels, the two stepped onto the bare, grey, concrete floor of the cage area. Lisa must have seen a shadow move and she stopped her rocking as her eyes swivelled around to try to see who’d come to visit her.

Lisa was on her knees on a small piece of carpet on the cage’s floor. Around her ankles were solid looking steel shackles with a short bar extending to the sides of the cage. The ends of the bars were clamped to the base of bars on either side, bolted firmly in place. Her feet and legs were spread about twelve inches apart. The shackles fit tight around her ankles, allowing very little movement for her feet. Lisa’s thighs were bent back at an angle and her bum rested on a bar that went through the cage and was clamped in place on both sides. In the centre of the bar, where Lisa’s ass cheeks sat, was another clamp arrangement. Samantha, still holding Liselle’s hand, looked closer. On the other side of the central clamp, a rubber dildo was attached which extended into the girl’s cunt. Samantha felt her knees grow weak, and Liselle’s arm went around her waist to steady her. “Are you alright, Miss?” Liselle asked.

Lisa pushed back against the dildo, making it disappear up inside her, and let out a gurgling groan.

“I’m OK,” Sam managed.

Sam held onto Liselle’s arm to steady herself. Her fingers accidentally brushed against the blonde’s nipple. Liselle smiled, and they moved towards the front of the cage. Lisa’s body was horizontal inside the cage and a wide leather belt went from a top bar, down around her tummy, and up again to the top. The belt gave support to the girl’s body to relieve some strain on her back. Liselle knelt at the front of the cage, reached inside, and stroked her sister’s cheek. Sam felt her legs get weak again and so she knelt down on the floor beside Liselle.

Another bar went through the cage in front, clamped at the ends to the sides. A clamp arrangement similar to the one in back was fitted in front of Lisa’s face. The black rubber dildo there went into the girl’s mouth. Sam swallowed hard. There was a chain locked around Lisa’s neck, and attached to the bar in two places, keeping her from turning her head away from the stiff rubber phallus in her mouth. A clear plastic tube ran from a water bottle hanging at the corner of the cage, to the centre of the dildo in Lisa’s mouth. Lisa worked her cheeks, sucking hard on the rubber cock, which was hollowed to allow a trickle of water into the girl’s mouth. She rocked back, pressed her lips around the gag, then squirted out a small stream of water from the side of her mouth, catching her sister and Samantha on the legs. Sam let out a surprised squeak.

“She learned that trick last week,” Liselle told Sam. “You have to do something to pass the time in there.”

Lisa’s wrists were held in the same type shackles as those on her ankles, tight looking, solid steel. Her hands were fastened to the sides of the cage near to where her breasts hung down, the shackles firmly bolted in place to the cage bars. A third steel bar went through the cage, over top of her back, under her elbows, pinning the girl’s arms in place.

“I’d never imagined anything like this,” thought Samantha. “Eighteen days, did Mike say? My God.” She nervously reached out to touch the girl imprisoned inside the cage, nearly toppling over. Her head spun with the awe-inspiring sight before her. Once again, Liselle grabbed hold of her, the blonde’s muscular arms feeling strong and comforting to her.

“Miss Samantha, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sam said. “I…I just…” Sam put her arm around Liselle. Sam felt the girl’s soft hair, her soft skin rubbing against hers. Sam’s other hand drifted down, between her own thighs, and Liselle understood.

Samantha was trembling with sudden lust. She held tight to the pretty blonde girl, never once looking away from the equally pretty one trapped inside the steel cage. Lisa relaxed her worried look, as she too understood what was wrong with Samantha. She smiled at Sam around the rubber phallus, and began to rock herself inside the cage. Lisa took the dildo deep into her mouth, drawing the one at her other end almost out of her. Then she moved herself back until the rear one filled her pussy, with the one in her mouth just between her teeth, the neck chain taut under her chin. She opened her mouth a little, and stared deeply into Samantha’s eyes as she swirled her tongue around the head of the dildo. Then she rocked forwards again to take it down into her throat.

Samantha let out a low, throaty moan, and began to work furiously at her own throbbing clit. Lisa picked up her pace, rocking her body back and forth on the two rubber cocks that impaled her at both ends. Liselle smiled and brought her hands around Samantha, placing them on her breasts, to softly caress the stiff buds of Sam’s nipples. Sam pushed a finger up inside herself while she pinched and twisted her own pulsating clitty. It became something of a race between the two, between Lisa and Samantha, to see who would cum first.

Samantha could not tear her eyes off the girl in the cage rocking her body back and forth within the limits of her free movement. Lisa’s belly was bucking up and down with her exertions, slapping against the leather strap that supported her body. The bright silver chain around her neck tinkled merrily as she humped against the two cocks poking into her at either end. Lisa was twisting herself now, as much as she was able to, grinding herself back into the dildo filling her cunt. She began to cum, spit dripping from her mouth and the dildo there; pussy juice, churned to foam, at the rear one. A high squeal emanated from her mouth, abruptly cut off when she violently rocked forwards, driving the rubber cock deep into her throat. Liselle felt Samantha begin to tense. Sam pushed another finger into herself, then began to scream out as her orgasm grabbed her hard. She pushed herself against the girl behind her and she came like a freight train, never taking her eyes off that awesome sight of Lisa, trapped in the cage.

Mike’s ears pricked up as Sam’s screams of passion echoed up the stairs from the dungeon.

“What the hell…?” he asked.

“It’s OK,” I said. “Just Sam having an orgasm.”

I’d been chatting with Mike about our latest adventure in the woods while he worked fixing dinner. “I gave Liselle the night off cooking since she has to take care of her sister now,” he’d said. I was telling him how peaceful and calm Sam’s orgasms had seemed after that last intense whipping scene, how she had found such peace after it was done, and how that calmness had stayed with her afterwards. Apparently, something had shattered that calm. Sam’s howls of passion, echoing loud and long through the big house, attested to the fact. “Now what do you suppose the girls are up to?” I asked.

“Something good, it sounds like,” Mike answered.

He told me that cage time was generally isolation time too. “I think it works better that way. Being left alone and utterly helpless seems to work together to make the session that much more intense for the girls. We’ll go down after dinner to feed Lisa. I let Liselle take Samantha down early because she seemed so interested in that cage last time. It sounds like it still holds a certain fascination for her.”

After a while, Liselle entered the kitchen with her arm around Sam, holding her from falling down. Sam’s eyes had that far away look to them. She was lost in that special place that submissives enjoy visiting so much. Both girls were naked.

“Samantha,” I called to her.

Sam’s head swivelled around; her eyes found me sitting at the table, and she focused on me.

“Where did your dress go?” I asked.

Sam looked down at herself. I heard Mike chuckling over the roast pork.

“I…I don’t know,” she slowly said.

Samantha came over to kneel on the floor beside my chair, placing her hands and head on my lap. Liselle went to Mike to help with the dinner.

“Did you see Lisa?” I asked Sam.

She looked up at me. “Lisa’s in the cage,” she said with a goofy grin. “She’s very happy, master. I…it…It’s incredible, Sir.”

“Would you like to spend a little time inside it when Lisa’s done?” Her head lowered onto my legs and she began to melt. I felt her start to tremble as her passions rose again. Liselle heard my question and noisily dropped a stack of dishes on the dining room table in her rush back to the kitchen. Mike gave her a glance, but her eyes were on Sam.

“Oh, please, Sir?” Sam said. “Could this one have a turn when Lisa is finished with it? I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Well, Mike,” I said, “looks like you’ve got another customer.”

Dinner was excellent, made even more delicious by the sight of our two lovely and naked companions seated around the table. The good food helped to bring Samantha back to reality, or at least to a semblance of normality. Her thoughts, I was sure, were on the floor below us. On the girl downstairs, locked tightly in the cage.

We had dessert and coffee, then the girls cleaned up and Liselle fixed a plate of food for her sister. We all headed down to the dungeon. The floor behind Lisa was messy with pee and cum, so Liselle used a handy hose, setting the temperature to warm, before washing down her sister’s nether region. Using a small wrench, she undid the clamps on the front bar and the gag, disconnected the neck chains, then slid the bar out and removed the dildo from Lisa’s mouth. Sam held a glass of juice to the girl’s lips and we waited for her to gain her composure. Lisa’s voice was a bit horse from having the rubber cock in her throat for so long, but she seemed quite happy and pleased to see us all. Liselle told her sister about how Sam’s going to have a baby.

“Oh Mistress Samantha, I’m so happy for you,” Lisa said.

I watched as Lisa rocked herself against the dildo still in her pussy. Even without the one in front, she still wasn’t able to move completely off it. She humped back onto it a couple times, giving herself pleasure, pleased by the news of Sam’s pregnancy. Amazing, I thought.

The girls got busy giving Lisa her supper, and I watched Sam, my lovely naked Samantha, cuddling with Liselle, reaching into the cage to touch Lisa, stroking her softly. I could see the effect it was having on her. The scene was having a profound effect on me too. Mike gave me a shot in the ribs that shook me from my reverie. He gave me a wink and a nod, and we moved to another part of the room. In a low voice he said, “Your girl seems to have a deep attraction to that cage. I think we’ll have to give her some time in it.”

“Christ,” I said, “look at her. She’s almost ready to cum again.”

“Liselle was in pretty bad shape her last time in. She’d fought it at the end, banged herself up a bit. You think Sam could handle it?”

I looked over at the girls. Sam had her face pressed up against the bars and it looked like she was trying to kiss Lisa’s body someplace. She had both her arms inside, stroking Lisa, feeling her and the steel that confined her. She looked gone again, totally taken over by Lisa’s submission to her helpless state. I nodded towards the cage area.

“Check it out,” I said. “Does it look like there’d be a problem?”

Mike looked. Sam was trying to squeeze herself through the bars to get inside with Lisa. “What about the baby?” he asked. “Is she going to be all right?”

I smiled. “That won’t be a problem. A happy mom means a healthy baby. I’ve seen women come into the hospital all banged up, and the baby usually survives just fine. Even if the house fell down, by the looks of that cage, nothing’s going to happen to someone inside it. I don’t know how she’ll handle being in there for a long time, but she certainly seems to have her heart set on trying it.”

“Go get Sam out of there,” Mike told me. “I don’t want to get Lisa all lathered up. She’s still got a couple weeks to go.”

I went to get Samantha away from the cage. I had to pull her arms out, off Lisa, and I had to lift Sam to her feet. I had to gently shake her to break the trance she was in.

“Samantha!” I had to be firm; her eyes wouldn’t leave the cage. “Samantha. This is your Master speaking. Lisa needs some time alone now.”

“I…” She saw me. “I… Yes. Lisa needs time alone now.”

“Liselle!” Mike barked, “Get your sister fed and settled for the night, then join us upstairs.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Liselle.

I had to support Sam all the way upstairs. It seemed like a big part of her was left down there with the twins. It wasn’t until we were settled in the living room and she’d had a couple sips of coffee, that she started to come around. Samantha began to realize that she might have caused a problem downstairs.

“Sirs. I’m sorry if this one became overwhelmed and forgot her place.”

Both Mike and I smiled. How could you get angry with someone so sweet. “It’s all right Samantha,” Mike told her. “The device has had strange effects on several people. It can be a bit overwhelming. Lisa still has a while to go inside and I didn’t want her to get too excited, that’s all. It would just make it harder for her to endure her confinement.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Mike went on. “If you want a turn at it, you’re going to have to prepare yourself, Samantha. If you went in now, you’d just explode yourself in a few hours and have nothing left for an extended time. A few days are good; a week, or more? Depends on how you take to it. Do you think you could handle a couple weeks in there? Samantha?”

Sam’s eyes had a dreamy, far away look.

“I think we lost her again,” I said.

By the time Liselle joined us, half an hour or so later, Sam had regained some of her composure. Liselle sat down beside her, and had brought up Sam’s clothes.

“Lisa OK?” Mike asked.

“Yes, Sir. I left her to rock herself to sleep.”

“Good.”

We left Mike’s place around midnight, and on the way home Sam couldn’t keep her hands off me. She kept oozing over the console and trying to get into my pants. Very distracting. After an interminable drive, when we got home, Sam whipped her dress off and started molesting me. Of course, I immediately had to chain her down on my bed, and then I proceeded to give her a royal fucking.

I’d no sooner stripped off and lain on top of her when her passions reached a fever pitch. The end of my dick grazed against her clit and she came big time, squirting pussy juice on me and howling out in wanton lust. This was the Samantha I knew and loved, raw, earthy, and wildly passionate. I bore my weight down on her to hold her still and I screwed her hard and long. When I could hold back no longer, I blasted loose a huge load of cum up deep inside her. Fantastic. When I recovered, I unlocked her chains from the bed so she could use the bathroom. I would have locked her back up to the bed, but when she returned, I was snoring.

We’d booked a flight to see her parents on the last week of October. I hadn’t set foot near an airport since the accident, and I was a little apprehensive getting on the plane. But I knew you’re more likely to die driving to the airport than you are flying. Sam, and a couple drinks before we took off, helped to calm my nerves somewhat, and it was an uneventful flight. There’d been bit of fuss with the airport metal detector and Sam’s labia rings, but after she whispered in the security guard’s ear, he smiled and passed us through. We landed in Winnipeg around noon.

We hired a car and drove to the house Samantha grew up in, an older farmhouse just south of the city. It was a beautiful place, big trees around the house, open land, a small town close by. A nice, safe place to raise kids, I thought. Sam’s folks greeted us when we drove up to the house and stopped.

The McKinleys, Isabella and Robert, were older than I had expected them to be, late sixties, I guessed. The house was very nicely done inside, smelling of fresh baking. It wasn’t long before we were all seated at the big kitchen table for a hearty lunch. Sam had told her parents we planned to get married, but not the second part.

“We really love each other, mom, dad,” Sam began. “I know this seems sudden, but I know that we’re right for each other.”

Sam’s mother said, “I can see the way you look at one another that there is something strong between you.”

Sam went on. “We’re going to fly to Florida in a couple days to see Jim’s parents. We’re hoping to get married either there, or maybe the week after in the Bahamas. Just a small wedding, nothing too fancy.”

Sam’s dad shifted on his chair. “I’m sensing some urgency here,” he slowly said. “Is there something else, Sam?”

Here it comes, I thought. Sam looked down. “I’m going to have a baby.”

There was a deafening silence, but only for a moment. Sam’s parents looked at one another, and began to smile at each other. Sharing an inside joke, it seemed to me.

Isabella caught a nod from dad, and spoke. “Samantha, how old is your brother Adam?”

“Thirty-three next month, why.”

“And how long have your dad and I been married?”

“Thirty five years last May. Right?”

“That’s what we’ve said,” said Sam’s mom. “But we added a year to make it sound better.”

“You mean…? Does Adam know?”

“No. And don’t you dare tell him. Although it doesn’t seem to matter so much these days.”

“We had to get married,” said Robert, “it was the right thing to do, back then. It worked out well for us, for thirty-five, well, thirty-four years, right mum?” He stood up and extended his hand towards me. I got up to shake it. “You take good care of my little girl, Jim. I hope you both are as happy as I’ve been all these years.”

“I believe we will be, Mr. McKinley,” I said. “Thank you. You both have raised quite a lovely young lady here.”

Sam and I spent a couple hours in the afternoon, driving around her old hometown. The weather was grey and cool, but my spirits were bright and sunny. On the town’s main street, we stopped in at a jewellery store. They had a few engagement rings in a case there, one of which caught both our fancy. A nice diamond, not all that large, but the setting was both ornate and quite modern looking at the same time. I’d priced a few back home and this one was both reasonable and quite nice looking. Samantha liked it, so I bought it and the matching wedding band for her on the spot.

We drove back to Samantha’s parents place for dinner and she had her first chance to show off her new ring. We all stayed up late that evening, looking at old family photos and chatting about everything under the sun. Sam’s parents were really nice people, simple down home nice. Easy to talk to. I felt genuinely welcomed into their family.

Next day, Sam and I visited with some of her friends that she hadn’t seen in a while. A get together was arranged that evening for friends and neighbours to come over and celebrate Sam’s engagement and forthcoming wedding. Sam’s parents expressed a desire to attend the wedding ceremony.

“Give us a call when you get to Florida and we’ll come visit with you,” Sam’s dad told her. “Isn’t every day your only daughter gets hitched.”

The day after found us on a plane to sunny Florida. We landed in Miami, then took a train to West Palm Beach where my parents had their condo on the ocean. It was one of those condominium apartment buildings geared towards older and retired people. My folks took great pleasure in showing Sam and me around the building, and we were expected to ohh and ahh over the common rooms, and even the elevators, as though we’d never been in one before. But that’s just the way older people are. Their place was nice though, well suited to their lifestyle, and we could tell they were very happy there.

The scene with my folks went smoothly as well. They had been worried about me after the death of Susan, and were pleased that I’d been able to bounce back after all this time alone, and with a pretty young thing to boot. My dad took me aside after I told them they’d be grandparents in about seven months.

“You know, son,” he said, “there’s ways around this little problem now. You don’t have to marry this girl.”

“It’s OK, dad,” I told him. “We’re not getting married just because of the baby. We’re good for each other, and I really love her a lot.”

“You’d be a fool not to. She sounds smart and she’s pretty too. You two look good together. I’m happy for you kid.”

My folks didn’t really have room for us to stay with them, but I’d booked a room at a hotel a short walk from their building. We all had dinner out, then did the ‘pictures of me as a baby’ thing that parents love to do. It was late when Sam and I finally got up to the room and passed out on the bed.

As it worked out, we had the next morning to ourselves. Sam’s parents were flying in in the afternoon and I was going to use my dad’s car to pick them up. We’d both wakened early from the bright sunlight streaming into the room and Samantha turned towards me. “Wanna fool around?” she asked.

“OK.”

I hadn’t brought along any of my usual bondage paraphernalia, the above mentioned airport security, one reason. But I did bring along a couple handy lengths of soft, white nylon rope. Sam’s eyes grew wide as I pulled the bundle of it from my bag and I began to uncoil the pieces to lay them out across the bed.

I started by tying her wrists together behind her back, not too tightly, since I didn’t want to leave rope marks on her for our parents to see. I used a second piece to throw a clove hitch around each of her upper arms, just above the elbow. Then I drew her arms together with the rope. Sam shifted around a bit as her elbows got closer and closer together behind her. I kept watching for signs of distress from her, but none were forthcoming until her elbows were nearly touching together.

“Is that too tight, Sam?” I asked.

“Uh,” Sam moved a bit. “It’s OK.”

I tied a square knot to secure her arms in place. I moved her hair back over her shoulder and down, combing it with my fingers down her back and over her arms. Her shoulders were pinned back, making her chest stand out proudly with two little hard berries on the tips of her tits. I had her get up off the bed and I walked her to the big mirror in the room. I posed her in front of it, letting her see herself, lifting her hair to let her see her arms, wrapped in white rope, tightly bound and close together behind her. She smiled. I took her head between my hands, then kissed her with passion. I hugged her body tightly to me while I gazed at the beautiful sight of her reflection in the mirror.

Sam would have fallen if I’d let go, but I would hold her dearly always. I walked her back to the bed. I used the last rope to bind her ankles, wrapping it around them both three times, then around between. Again, I didn’t cinch it too tight, rope marks, but she was tied up tight enough. There was about a foot and a half of rope left dangling. Sam lay down on her tummy, face down. I raised her feet up and back until her heels touched her bum. I passed the end of the rope through the one at her elbows, pulled it up tight, and tied it off. “You’re not going to start making all kinds of noise now, are you?” I asked, knowing full well the answer.

“Ooohhh!” Sam groaned, the effects of the strict hog tie flooding her brain with a crazy mix of emotions. I’d need a gag of some sort.

In the bathroom, I wet a washcloth, so her mouth wouldn’t get all dry. On a hook were two terrycloth robes, thoughtfully provided by the hotel. With terrycloth tie belts. I pulled one free, then returned to Samantha. She saw what I carried and dutifully opened her mouth wide. I rolled up the damp cloth, packed her mouth full, then wrapped the cloth belt around her head and mouth a couple times, tying it tight. Sam settled back on the bed and squirmed around a bit in the tight confines of her ropes. I watched as she stretched her fingers out to grab her ass cheeks, pulling with her fingers and arching her back in an effort to reach herself. Her longest finger made it past the crinkled rose of her asshole and to within half an inch of her pussy rings, but no amount of straining could let her gain - that - last little - bit. Sam kicked with her feet to try to stretch her arms just that tiny bit more. Her high-pitched keening was sufficiently muffled by the gag.

I finally thought I’d lend a hand and I reached out to touch her rings. Sam’s finger found mine and she tried to grab my hand to mash it into her. But I’d have none of that. I withdrew my hand for a moment. It took three tries before Samantha understood I was going to take my sweet time on her, and she let me touch her without trying to grab me.

I flicked a finger over her rings, hearing them tinkle together, then I slid my finger through her slit and up inside of her. I saw Sam fighting to maintain her composure and I smiled. I bent my finger inside her, pressed down, and wiggled, tickling her right on her G-spot. My thumb stroked her clit.

I felt Samantha go all tense and three seconds later she went off like a rocket. Her legs shot out and I had to grab them before she dislocated her shoulders. Her cum, warm and wet, shot everywhere. I kept up my stimulation of her pussy though, having to chase her around the bed to keep my finger in her. Sam started snorting and blowing air through her nose and her movements began to slow. She was not getting enough air, I saw.

It might have been funny if she’d passed out, but my thoughts were on little Sam or Jim junior. Quickly I untied the cloth belt, unwrapped it, and pulled the washcloth from her mouth. When the gag came free, she gulped a lungful of air, then let it out in a long, loud, moan of ecstasy which was sure to wake anyone still sleeping on our floor. As luck would have it, people happened to be passing by out in the hall and I heard tittering from outside as Samantha groaned and moaned. When she realized that my finger was no longer stimulating her, she came down rather abruptly.

“Why did you stop?” Sam asked. “And where’s my gag?”

“You couldn’t breathe properly and I removed it.”

“Oh.”

I loosened the rope holding her feet to her elbow rope, then I untied the rope holding her elbows together, letting in slack slowly so her arms didn’t spring apart. The rope had bit deep into her upper arms from all the strain on it and she’d have marks there, probably for the rest of the day. But Sam had a blouse with long sleeves to hide them. I got her up on her knees with her face in the pillows and then I gave it to her, fast and hard, the way we both liked it. I no longer worried about the noise, since I figured the whole hotel knew what we were up to by now. The pillows muffled Sam’s cries somewhat, my rather loud grunts I just let fly.

After we’d relaxed a while and I’d untied her, we took a shower together, then went down for breakfast. We walked the short distance to my parents’ place to pick up the car.

I hadn’t seen what my dad was driving, hadn’t thought to ask yesterday when they showed us the garage in the basement of the building, we had just looked in and continued with the tour. The keys felt strange when he handed them to me on the way down in the elevator, but that didn’t register with me either. I’d expected a wagon or a (shudder) minivan. My jaw didn’t drop until dad pointed it out and we stood before the beast.

A white Cadillac Eldorado, circa 1970. Rag top. Mint condition it was, with less than forty thousand miles on the clock. “You be careful with her, son,” Dad said.

“I will. Don’t worry.”

Sam and I climbed into the thing and I fired her up. Purred like a kitten with sharp claws. I waited until we were out of the garage and around the corner before we pulled the latches and dropped the top. On the on ramp, I gave her some juice and we flew onto the highway. Detroit Iron at its best. Cruising down the highway like a big old dinosaur, as the song goes.

Sam’s hair was whipping all over and she had to tie it back. After a bit of fun, I kept it at the limit and we made the airport in practically no time. We began to notice many older cars like the Caddy on the roads; I guess being spared the winters we have back home cars lasted a lot longer here.

I parked near the back of the lot so the beast wouldn’t get its doors dinged, I hoped, and we went to check on Sam’s parents’ flight. We had about an hour to kill, so we grabbed coffees and sat down. “One of mum’s cronies knows a priest who’ll marry us tomorrow,” I said. “There’s a nice little chapel not far away, and there’s an outdoor area that overlooks the ocean.”

“An outside wedding?” Sam asked. “That might be nice.”

“I’ll call when we get back. It could be very nice. On the beach, maybe?”

“I’d get sand in my shoes.”

“So don’t wear shoes,” I said.

“Ya right. That should go over big with the parents. Standing barefoot in sand with a nice suit on.”

I had to laugh, picturing the scene. “Well, we’ll see.”

The arrival was announced and we went to greet Sam’s parents. I went out to fetch the Caddy and wheeled it around the front of the terminal, leaving the top up and with the air conditioning on. Isabella and Robert had never seen this part of the woods before, and seemed impressed by the lush greenery around, the sights of the ocean from the road. I took a side street that passed alongside a stretch of beach, then turned up a road and drove through a touristy part of town.

I’d booked a room for them, so we stopped at the hotel first so they could freshen up a little, then we all drove over to see my folks. As I said, Sam’s parents were easy people to get to know and it wasn’t long before we were all like old friends. Sam and I got on the phone to the priest and arranged a time to meet with him, then we all went out for dinner at a seafood buffet.

[part 2]

Samantha and I took a drive next morning to visit the chapel and meet the priest who would marry us. It was a rather small building and it was perched on a low, rocky cliff, overlooking the ocean. There was a lovely open-air terrace out back. A small and tasteful altar backed onto the ocean with benches in front, and the area was lush with green plants. Reverend Samuelson was a lot younger than I expected; he looked to be around late twenties, thirty at most. Tall and wiry with shoulder length sandy brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

“We do a non denominational type of service here,” the priest told us, “for people who’ve become disillusioned with big religion. People who may be stressed out from the hustle of modern life and are seeking a more relaxed form of worship.”

Sam said, “You have a very nice church here.”

“Thanks, it is a rather pretty spot. Our worship centers on the Earth, and God’s hand in the glorious creations upon it,” he said. “I like to focus on the everyday goodness all around us and how individuals, and society as a whole can, through simple things, become more in tune with the wonders of nature.”

“I have to agree with that,” I said.

“Please forgive me for asking, Miss, but you are with child?”

“Why yes, I am,” Samantha answered. “How did you know?”

“The miracle of creation shines brightly from within you, Samantha.”

Reverend Samuelson suggested an evening ceremony on the terrace. “I’ve performed many marriages at that time of day,” he said. “Twilight, the closing of one day and then the awakening to the next, a new day, a new life for you both.”

“That sounds nice,” said Sam.

Sam and I drove back to deliver the news to our parents. Then, after lunch, we left the old folks to chat, and we hit the beach for a few hours. Some time for us alone before the wedding.

The wedding was every bit as beautiful as we imagined it could be. Sunset in the background washing across the alter might have been a nice touch, but we were on the wrong coast for that. But the sky was flooded with gorgeous reds and golds that evening, the air, warm and calm, and the sounds of the waves breaking on the rocks below the terrace added a subtle yet powerful reminder of the continuation of human existence on this planet we call Earth. Samantha was moved to tears by the beauty of it all, as was I.

As Reverend Samuelson finished the ceremony, as the light in the sky faded away, small garden lanterns winked on amongst the plants that bordered the area. I turned to Sam, held her close, and kissed my lovely wife.

Dad drove us all to a fine restaurant for a late dinner and the celebrations continued well into the night. Envelopes of cash were handed to me by both parents, enough to pay for our honeymoon trip and then some. My dad dropped Sam, me, and her parents off at the hotel afterwards.

We all met up again next morning for the trip to the airport in my dad’s big boat, which he let me drive.

“Great car dad,” I told him.

“I bought it off Mr. Rosenburg on the sixth floor after he failed the eye test and they pulled his licence,” Pop said. “Nice eh?”

I gunned her a little to pass a truck, felt the big barrels open up and the tranny kick down.

“A big cream puff with a bite,” I said. “I love it.”

After goodbyes were said, after Sam’s folks caught their flight back to Winnipeg, Sam and I found a travel agent. We wanted a small cottage of some sort, private and quiet, on a beach. The lady said she had an idea, and placed a few calls.

“There’s a small resort on Cat Island that’s run by locals,” she told us. “It’s not very luxurious and there’s not much nightlife around, but the cottages are far apart and clean, hot water, T.V., and on a lovely stretch of beach. They have one open, if you’re interested.”

An hour later, we were boarding the small plane to Nassau. A twenty-minute flight, then an hour by ferry boat, and we were there. The owners were around fifty and looked like they’d just come from the Woodstock music festival, tie dyed shirts and all. Leon and his wife Rachel both had long, sun bleached hair, no shoes, and an easygoing peace about them that only comes from spending a lot of time in paradise. Leon took Sam and me to our cottage in his old beat up jeep.

“There’s a bigger resort on the other side of the island,” he told us as we wound through the thick jungle, “They have a place where you can go for eats if the mood strikes you. Call and leave a message and I’ll come pick you up, or you can walk, just follow the trail. It’s not too far. The cottage has a kitchen and there’s some food supplied. I’ll take you to the town later on if you want to get some things.” A little one-room house set into the trees. No lock on the door. Miles of beach at the doorstep.

“The town’s just up the beach,” said Leon, pointing. “Maybe twenty minutes walk. Ain’t much there but there’s a store and place to get a meal.”

“This is a great place you got here, Leon,” I said.

“Well thanks, Jim. If you need anything, just call. Have a nice stay.”

“Let’s go for a swim,” Sam said after we’d settled in.

Sam and I had a very interesting week on the beach at Leon and Rachel’s place. That first day we put together lunch from what was in the cottage, and around dinner time we were about to go out when Leon came by in his old beat up boat.

“Got some fish here,” he called to us, “want some?” Three nice fish, which I cleaned and Sam fried in butter and breadcrumbs, made us a fine dinner. Next day we took a stroll up the beach to town, passing a few other cottages along the way. In front of one place, an older couple were sunning themselves on a blanket spread out on the sand.

They were getting a nice overall tan since neither of them had any clothing on. We weren’t going to intrude, but the woman called to us as Sam and I passed by. We ended up chatting for a bit with the couple, who showed no distress at all at being caught naked by us. Turned out the guy had served in Vietnam with Leon and they came here for two weeks every year. They both looked fit and trim, the man’s wife was in very good shape, the grey hair on them both being the only real clue as to the couple’s actual age. And the woman was not quite naked.

Both Sam and I had trouble not staring. The lady had two shiny silver bangle-type bracelets that fit rather closely around her wrists. Another polished, flat band of metal was around her neck. The bracelets looked like they’d be too small to get off over the woman’s hands, and the collar, for that was surely what it was, had no catch or opening in it that I could see. There was a small but sturdy ring in the front of the collar that looked like it was part of the metal, almost as if it grew that way. From the ring a round medallion hung, a bright green stone in the centre of it.

But we weren’t going to intrude, so after talking with Pat and John for a few minutes, we got up to continue our walk. “Maybe we could get together for dinner some time,” I said to John.

“Drop by any time,” he said. “We’ll be here.”

It wasn’t much of a town at the end of the beach, more like a little fishing village with a few buildings around. But there was a store where we bought some fruit and vegetables , and a place to get a really delicious lunch.

A bulletin board on the wharf announced a festival coming up at the end of the week. A party fortuitously timed to close out our honeymoon. With bags of groceries in hand, we walked back to our cabin. Pat and John were still where we’d left them, on their stomachs this time, cooking their behinds in the sun. John noticed our approach.

“Pat and I are going to the resort across the island for supper tonight,” he said. “Would you two like to join us?”

Sam looked at me, but I was blatantly starring at Pat’s collar. Her hair had fallen away from it, and from the back, there seemed to be no opening or catch either, just a solid band of metal encircling her neck. Perhaps an inch wide and maybe a quarter inch thick, it wasn’t tight around the woman’s throat, but it surely was on there to stay. John saw me looking.

“Sorry, John,” I said to him. “Your wife has some rather nice jewellery. I think Sam and I would be interested in hearing about it. May we join you two for supper tonight?”

Pat’s hand idly reached out to touch her husband’s hand. The bracelet flashed in the sunlight. She said, “We’ll stop by your cabin around six. It’s only a short walk to the other side.”

Sam waited until we’d gone farther down the beach before she spoke. “I used to think it was only me who was like this. But then I met you, then I met Mike and the twins, and now those two on the beach. Did you see the woman’s bracelets? How close they fit around her wrists? And that collar, what’s up with that?”

“Same thing as those bracelets with the chain that you’ve got, I guess. I used to think I was the only one too. But then you start to hear things, you meet people that have the same kind of ideas, interests, as you do, and suddenly it’s not so weird after all.”

“Pat and John seemed to be very happy together,” Sam said, “how long do you thing they’ve been married?”

“I expect we’ll find out tonight.”

At first, when Pat and John walked up to our cottage and stopped in front, I didn’t recognise them with their clothes on. Pat had on a long skirt and a shirt, John, just shorts and a shirt. I wore the same, and Sam put on a short skirt with a belly-revealing top. We talked a bit on the hike through the forest about general things. The couple had been married thirty-seven years this past July.

“We got hitched just before I shipped out to 'Nam,” said John.

“That was a pretty rough war from what I understand,” I said.

“Don’t get me started,” he warned. “It was every bit the farce that you’ve heard and then some. Don’t get Leon started on it either, he had it a lot worse than I did. Made some good friends over there, though. Only good thing about it all.”

The resort on the other side of the island was one of those big multi-storied hotels with the swimming pool right by the ocean, in case you didn’t like salt water or something. Tennis courts, a small golf course, everything. An excellent dining room too. Casual dress seemed to be the order of the day, fortunately.

Sam was getting dizzy following Pat’s bracelets as she moved her hands around. Her interest in them was not lost on John, or Pat.

“I’m not wishing to embarrass you, Pat,” I said to John, “but my wife and I have rather a fascination with your wife’s rather unusual bracelets. Would you like to tell us a bit about them?”

“A buddy of mine from the engineering corps made them for us,” John told us. “The bracelets, and the necklace, well,” he looked at his wife, “it’s a collar actually, they’re a special grade of stainless steel. My pal Billy, he can weld anything that ain’t moving too fast. He did a set like that for his girl, and for a couple other friends, and I got him to do Pat here.”

“How long have you had them?” Sam asked Pat.

“Quite some time now. Nearly thirty years, right John?” John nodded. Sam looked stunned.

I asked, “So Bill formed the metal and then welded them on?”

“That’s it,” said John. “It’s kinda tricky, but he knows all the tricks. The collar was the tough one. He obviously couldn’t finish the weld underneath, so you can feel the seam in back a bit. Honey?”

Pat let Sam and I feel under her collar. The thing was a little heavy as I lifted it on her neck. I slid my finger underneath, between the hard, solid metal strip and the woman’s soft skin of her neck. I felt a slight, smooth, indentation where the ends were joined. I turned the collar back around to examine the medallion that hung in front. The circular pendant was gold with a silver design around the edge and a cryptic sort of lettering around the green cut stone in the centre.

“This is very nice,” I said.

“Take it off,” John told me.

It felt creepy touching this woman’s collar, this woman who was so obviously, owned, I guess is the best word, by her husband. The medallion attached to the collar by a nicely crafted snap fastener. I pushed the catch and unhooked it from the ring. When I moved it away from her collar, the ring stood out starkly for what it was. An attachment point. The ring was seamlessly a part of the collar, fixed vertically in place.

I looked at Sam. Sam was dreamy eyed, and she was staring at Pat’s collar. Pat saw Sam’s look, then she raised her hands up under her chin to clink her metal bracelets against the front of her collar. Samantha’s intake of breath was audible to us all.

I looked closely at the pendant in my hand, warm, from resting against the woman’s throat. The central stone twinkled, reflecting the lights in the dining room. It seemed to glow with an inner fire. The piece felt heavy in my hand.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“Picked it up in Bangkok when I was on leave. How much do you think it’s worth?” John asked me.

I looked at him. “I haven’t a clue.”

“The base is twenty four carat gold,” John informed me. “The design and the lettering is inlaid platinum. And the emerald is nearly three carats.”

I let out a soft whistle. “A lot, I guess.”

“Had it appraised again five years ago for the insurance company. You’re holding close to a million bucks there.”

“Wow!” both Sam and I exclaimed.

John added, “I carried that with me all the time I was in ‘Nam. It was my good luck charm. I got out of there without so much as a scratch, so I guess it worked. I just kept on thinkin’ “I’ve gotta get home and give this to Pat”. Read the back.”

I turned the medallion over. The back surface was worn along the lower edge, probably from being in contact with Pat’s skin for a long time. The engraving was faint and I held it up to the light.

“It’s starting to fade,” Pat said. “My lovely Patrice, my heart, my rock, all my love, Jonathan.”

“I should take it in and get the inscription redone,” John told her.

“Now, John,” Pat said, “it might break the spell if you alter it.”

“Ya, you might be right.”

After dinner, on the way back to the cottages, the older couple held each other close, like star-crossed lovers. Anyone could see there was still a deep attraction there between them after all those years together. As deep a feeling for one another as between Samantha and me, just starting out. I prayed Sam and I would still be so happy together at that age.

It was just beginning to get dark when we reached our cottage and I shook John’s hand as we said goodnight. Pat gave Samantha a hug. Sam took Pat’s hands in hers, then slid them down to feel the woman’s bracelets. I watched her hands linger a bit too long on the woman’s bracelets, feeling around them, hefting their weight. John couldn’t help but notice too.

He said to me, “If you and your pretty bride are interested, I could put you in touch with my buddy Billy. He’s getting on in years now, but he might be willing to do something like that for you.”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” I said, “thanks, we’ll let you know.”

Samantha was really hot that night over those two bracelets that Pat had. We went for a late night swim, hoping she’d cool down a little. We walked naked in the moonlight from the cabin, down the beach, and out into the sea. Of course, that did little to quell Sam’s desire any. In the water, she began to rub herself up against me. “Jim,” she cooed in my ear.

“Yes Sam?”

“Jim. Uh, those two bracelets.”

“You’d like me to talk to John?”

“Would you like it if I had bracelets like that on me all the time?”

“Yes Sam, I think that would be nice.”

“Thank you, master,” she said.

We fucked in the ocean, we screwed on the beach, then again later, in bed. Throughout it all Sam managed to keep her screams of ecstasy down to a low roar. I was proud of her, and completely done in afterwards. We slept in late the next morning.

We spent a lazy morning lying out in the sun, swimming when it got too hot, then back to the blanket for a while. We were starting to think about lunch when I caught the flash of sunlight and saw Pat and John strolling down the beach towards us. Leon was having a get together and they invited us to come along.

“If it’s no bother, that would be nice,” Sam said. Sam grabbed a shirt to throw over her bikini since the sun was getting fierce. Pat had a short sundress over her swimsuit. It was only a fifteen-minute walk along the beach to Leon’s place. We found Leon out back, stoking a fire in a brick barbecue. John called to him as we approached.

“Found a couple people on the beach who looked lonely,” he said. “Got something extra to feed them?”

“Ivan dropped off a bushel of crab this morning. I think there’s enough to go around.”

Leon hoisted a big iron pot onto the grill over the fire, then started filling it with water from a hose. Just then Rachel came out of the house carrying a big tray loaded with plates, glasses, and bottles of drink. I went to give her a hand, and when I took the tray from her, I saw something that almost made me drop it. I managed to mask my surprised look, but I saw Sam stare.

Rachel was wearing a very skimpy thong bikini. What caught my eye was a bright flash of sunlight at her waist. She had on, I assumed, some of Billy’s handiwork. A wide band of shiny metal encircled her middle. Rachel thanked me for taking the heavy tray and I turned away to set it on the table. But I had to look back at her, at the strip of metal around her tummy. She saw that I was staring, but I expected she was used to people looking.

“John told us about Pat’s jewellery,” I said to her, “is that more of Bill’s handiwork?”

“I had him make me this after I saw Pat’s,” Rachel said. Samantha had come over to join me; Leon was watching us. Rachel did a little twirl, showing off the piece, the sunlight sparkling off the metal band. It was one solid band of polished steel, maybe an inch and a half wide, and it fit her rather tightly around her waist. It had two holes in it at the back, around six inches apart, and one slightly larger one in front. John came to the table, opened a bottle, and began filling glasses. I had to sit down.

“Billy really does fine work,” I said. “John, my wife has expressed a deep interest in those bracelets that Pat has. If you could put us in touch with your friend, we both would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said, “I’ll give him a call.”

John handed Sam and I glasses of the drink, a coconut flavoured liquid, locally brewed and very refreshing. Leon joined us around the table while waiting for the water to boil. Sam and I heard the tale of Rachel’s unusually located slave collar.

Rachel started the story. “Pat and I were close while the boys were away. When they got back, Leon and I settled down here, on this island. It was a couple years later when Pat and John came for a visit, and Pat just had her collar put on. I really thought it was neat and Leon liked it too. We talked a bit about me getting one made, but we were having problems back then.”

“I was having problems,” Leon explained.

“Leon was wounded in the war,” Rachel continued. “It took us a long time to work through what happened to him over there. That’s why we came here, to get away from people, the troubles back home. Anyway, Pat and John came to visit again the next year and she had her bracelets then. Pat took me aside and showed me how the bracelets and the collar could be used, and told me how hot it made her feel when John would lock her hands to her collar at night.” Rachel suddenly looked up at Sam and me. “Oh, I hope you two know what I’m talking about here.”

“Samantha and I are into these sort of things too,” I said. “We both enjoy our little bondage sessions. Please, go on.”

"Well anyway, Leon and I talked about it, having me get something made by Billy. We talked about it and I had an idea that I thought he might like. I didn’t tell him right out, I thought it would be a nice surprise. Leon said, “Well you’re the one has to wear it, get something you’ll like.” He’s not really into the bondage thing like John is, so I did.

“I went back home with John and Pat and they took me to see Billy the welder. I thought my idea was weird, but he understood perfectly and showed me how it would work. He cut up some cardboard and had me hold the pieces together, and I thought, “Wow! This is really great.” So I had him do it.”

Sam and I were lost now, and it must have shown. Leon got up to toss some crabs in the pot.

“Honey, why don’t you get the salad and put on the other piece.”

“OK.”

Rachel disappeared into the house. Pat went with her. Leon sat beside me. He told me about where he was wounded in the war; how a piece of shrapnel had come through the side of a truck he was riding in. “Got me right where it hurts. So that was the end of that. Rachel and I couldn’t have kids after that, so that’s where she got the idea for the belt. She’s a fine woman for putting up with me all these years.”

The first batch of crab was done, and Leon got up to scoop them out and add some more. Pat came out of the house carrying a bowl of green salad and another with potato salad. Rachel carried herself. I’d read about these things, seen web sites devoted to the topic. Now here one was, worn by Rachel, who came to the table and sat down with a solid sounding thump. She shifted around a bit to adjust her most intimate areas to the confines of the chastity belt. Sam was stunned speechless. I gaped.

“My God, Rachel,” I said. “It’s beautiful.” Rachel still had on her string bikini top, but she’d traded the thong bottom for the other part of her belt. The metal matched the waist belt and flowed from it, down her front and underneath to emerge behind her, dividing into two, and joining the belt again in back. She’d looked embarrassed when she’d come out, but seeing both Samantha’s and my enthusiastic and admiring looks, she stood up to model the device before our wide eyes. I looked closer, oblivious to the goings on around me.

The lower part connected beautifully with the belt, fastened by a rather strange looking bolt. It narrowed where it passed between the woman’s legs and I could see a small opening she could pee through. In back, it opened a little wider over her ass, then the piece flowed back up her ass cheeks to become fixed to the back of her belt by two screw like fittings similar to the one in front. The whole thing was quite tight against her flesh. Rachel saw that I noticed. “I’ve put on a little weight over the years,” she said.

“Billy put it on her with big rivets at first,” Leon said. “That’s how she came back to me, locked away forever. I was really touched then, that she’d do that for me. She told me that if I couldn’t have her, than no one would.”

“How, uh,” Sam found her voice and tried again. “How long did you wear it like that?”

“Over ten years, wasn’t it Leon?” said Rachel as she carefully sat down again. “I’d gain a little weight and it would get uncomfortable, then I’d have to run on the beach to work it off. When I got older the weight became harder to lose, and that’s when it started to become a real problem.”

“Took a week to get it off her,” Leon told us. "I had to file off the rivets and then knock 'em out with a punch. Billy made those bolts for us after, so we could put it on and take it off. Without the crotch piece on, the waist belt sits up higher, so she’s not so bothered by it.

Halfway through the meal, Rachel started to look rather uncomfortable and she asked Samantha if she could give her a hand for a few minutes. In a little while they came back out, Rachel wearing her thong again, minus the shiny steel bottom part of the belt. I could see deep reddened marks on her hips and on her bum where the device had pressed against her flesh. The waist belt rode higher on her middle now, and she looked much more relaxed.

The lunch lasted most of the afternoon, a peaceful meal under the trees in Leon’s back yard by the seashore. Besides the never ending supply of delicious fresh crab and the salads, we had fresh baked bread with sweet butter and a bowl of cut up fruit on the table. Later on, Rachel and Pat brought out a pot of tea and a cake with chunks of pineapple baked into it. John came out of the house and sat with Samantha and me.

“I put in a call to Billy the welder but he wasn’t home. He’s got his shop in Oklahoma. I’ll try again tomorrow, if you two are still interested. I haven’t seen him for a few years now, but I imagine he still does custom work for folks.”

I asked, “How much would he charge me for two bracelets?”

“He won’t “charge” you anything,” John told me. “This sort of work is a labour of love to him. Slip him whatever you think it’s worth to you, he’ll appreciate it. Bring along a bottle of Jack Daniels, but don’t give it to him until he’s done, that way you won’t have to wait around for him to sober up.”

Our honeymoon trip just kept getting stranger and stranger. Late that evening we all piled into Leon’s jeep and he took us back to the cabins. Sam and I had our nightly nude swim in the ocean, then we went to bed.

“Master?” Sam whispered in my ear.

“Yes, little one?”

“Are we going to visit Oklahoma on the way home?”

“If you’d like. I’ll get Billy to make you a belt like Rachel had.”

“I don’t think a baby would fit through that little opening in the bottom.” Sam was quiet for a while, then she spoke again. “Rachel and Leon don’t have sex, you know.”

“I sort of guessed that,” I said. “Leon told us how he got hurt in the war.”

“He gives her pleasures in other ways. She really loves him a lot.”

“I know.”

“Good night, master.”

“Good night, Sam.”

We met the people in the cottage next to ours one day while walking down the beach. A young couple, around our age, from Timmins, a town in northern Ontario. They had two kids, a boy and a little girl. The wife had won an obscene amount of money in the lottery and they owned the sailboat that we’d seen anchored out in the water. They’d bought the boat in England and were living the life, sailing the seven seas.

Another day Leon told us a bit more about their life on the island. When they’d settled here there were only about twenty people living on Cat Island. Five years ago, they put up the big hotel on the other side and now there was an even bigger one going up at the southeast end.

“Rachel and I used to go for weeks without seeing another soul,” he told us. “The locals knew we’d come here for the peace and quiet and they left us alone. You could go around naked for weeks at a time without anyone bothering you. Everybody’d seen Rachel’s belt, and I look a lot scarier naked, so me and Rach could do whatever we liked. We started the cottages around ten years ago to pick up a few bucks after the V.A. money ran out, and it’s worked out quite well for us. The hotel coming brought more people, and it brought money here too. Folks got jobs building it, or workin’ there. Armand bought new boat and he runs tours around the islands, and there’s a steady market for the local farmers and fishermen too.”

John finally got through to Billy the welder. Billy’s son was taking over the business, but old Bill would be pleased to do Sam two bracelets. Sam was as happy as I was on hearing that. John drew us a map to Billy’s shop, just outside of Oklahoma City. “Should only take him an afternoon to do it,” John told me. “I think you’ll be pleased with the results.”

“I think we both will. Thanks John. We’ll go see him straight from here at the end of the week.”

I exchanged addresses with Pat and John, and we promised we’d keep in touch. Leon and Rachel too, and we told them that we’d try to come back to stay at their little piece of paradise some day. All too quickly our honeymoon drew to a close, and everyone on the island, and from neighbouring islands as well, congregated in the little fishing village at the north end of Cat Island for the annual festival. It was a great party, with a couple of bands providing the music. The food was fantastic and plentiful, and the drink flowed freely. Sam and I danced until we could dance no more. The festival continued long into the night when Sam and I staggered along the beach and back to our little cabin by the sea. We collapsed in a fit of giggles on the bed.

After a long goodbye to Rachel and Leon, Sam and I boarded the ferryboat to Nassau. At the airport I picked up a bottle of Jack at the duty free, then we caught the shuttle to Miami and a flight to Oklahoma City. We landed in the late afternoon, and the weather there was warm and sunny. I rented a car to drive into town. I stopped to call Billy Brown’s welding shop but got no answer, so Sam and I booked a room at a nearby hotel and then we drove around to see a few sights. I stopped at a bank and cashed a cheque. John said pay what I though it was worth. After seeing Billy’s work in person, Sam’s bracelets would be priceless to us, so I figured five hundred wouldn’t be too out of line. I got some extra cash to spend on food and stuff as well.

After supper that evening, I spoke to Billy. I said we’d met John and Pat in the Bahamas the week before, and that John had talked to him about us coming to visit with him.

“You’re the fellow wanted the bracelets made?” Bill asked me.

“That’s right,” I said. “I’ve seen some of your earlier works and thought they looked very nice.”

He asked if we had a place to stay and I gave him the name of the hotel we were at.

“Well, come on by in the morning and we’ll fix you up,” he said.

Next morning we drove out to Billy’s place on the outskirts of the city, out in farm country. A high wood fence bordered the property along the road, and when I turned the car in at the gate, I could see why. The yard in front held an ugly collection of rusted cars, rusted trucks, rusted barrels and big tanks, and rusted piles of rust that might have been farming machinery at one time or another. Goats and sheep grazed the grass around the junk; chickens patrolled the perimeter of the house. A mangy black dog announced our arrival. I parked at the side of the barn beside a rusty tractor. Billy came out of the house and crossed the yard to greet us. Bill walked with a pronounced limp and his mop of grey hair fluttered in the breeze. He looked to be around seventy, or eighty. Or ninety. I was further disconcerted when he shook my hand, and I noticed a couple of his fingers were missing.

“You must be Jim. And Samantha,” he said, taking her hand, “you’re the one wants the bracelets, right?”

“I saw the ones you made for Pat and I thought they were very nice,” Sam said to him.

Bill had taken hold of Samantha’s hands and was looking at them through his smudged glasses. He turned her hands over, felt around them, stepped back to look up and down at her. I stood there feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

Billy ushered us both into the barn that was his workshop. The inside smelled of machinery and grease and was dimly lit by dirty fluorescent lights. We were shown to the rear of the barn, to an area where a cluttered workbench stood. There, on the bench, shining brightly in the sunlight coming from a streaked window, was a steel rod about three feet long. Billy picked it up and held it before us.

“This is stainless steel,” he said. “The same kind surgeons use to make pins when they put a shattered bone back together. It won’t corrode, it won’t give you a rash of any kind like cheap jewellery can. It’s a little hard so it won’t scratch too easily. It’s not so hard you couldn’t cut it off if you had to, if you had an emergency of some kind.”

The rod was a quarter inch in diameter. Bill held it against Sam’s wrist. He looked at it, at her arm, at her, muttering to himself. He had her hold the metal rod while he went behind a shelf to rummage through a pile of bits and pieces. I became aware of many shiny pieces of the same type metal amongst the piles of clutter in the area, ends and trimmings from the man’s craftings. Bill came back with another piece of rod, a little shorter. When he laid the two together across Sam’s wrists I saw the other piece was a tiny bit thicker. “How much do you weigh, honey?”

Sam told him. He started feeling Sam up, around her hips, her thighs, her arms. Sam looked at me, and I was getting a little agitated at the man’s seemingly taking liberties with my wife. Bill must have sensed our unease, and he stopped to look at me. “This ain’t a part for a tractor I’m makin’,” he said to me. “These bracelets are going to become a part of this girl, hopefully for a long time to come. I’ve got to make the size right for her now, and I have to be convinced they’ll be suitable for her in years to come.” He turned to Sam. “They might be a bit uncomfortable for a little while, but you’ll get used to them soon enough. You have to be certain you still want me to make 'em for you.”

Sam looked at me again. I spoke. “Sorry Bill. I see you want to do your best here. I’m just not used to seeing another man touching my wife.”

“Well son, you’d better get used to it, ‘cause I’m gonna be doin’ a lot more touching before the day’s through.”

Bill was right. Sam ended up naked, standing in the middle of the old man’s dusty workshop while he sized her new bracelets. Old Billy got a charge when he saw Sam’s labia rings. When Sam told him she was going to have a baby, Bill said that changed things, and he scratched out some numbers he’d wrote down, then took some more measurements. He was using callipers and an old ruler and I saw the markings had almost become worn away from use. I made the mistake of asking him how he could read the measurements off the old tool.

He snorted. “I remember where the numbers used to be,” he told me.

I shut up after that.

It took a couple hours before Bill was satisfied with the reading he’d got from Sam’s hands and wrists, and other places that I couldn’t see had anything to do with making two bracelets, but he seemed to know what he was doing. Or at least he made it look like he did. Bill found a thick piece of steel bar and chucked it in an ancient engine lathe in the corner of the shop. With a great rumbling noise, the machine started, and steel chips flew as he turned the bar down to the diameter he wanted. Bill ground the gears of the big machine and made the chuck run slow. He’d settled on the piece of rod that was a tiny bit thicker than a quarter inch. He mounted a holder, pushed the piece of stainless rod into a hole in the round piece in the chuck, and started the machine again to wind the rod around the bar, forming Samantha’s bracelets in less than six seconds. Bill took the piece out of the lathe and over to a band saw to cut through the coils of stainless rod, then came back and handed Sam her bracelets.

“What’s next?” she asked, as she looked at the two rings of metal.

“We’ll get them on you and go have lunch,” Bill said. “After lunch, I’ll do the welds.”

Billy pried open the two rings and filed the edges of the cuts. He then had Sam slip the bracelets over her hands. At the workbench, Bill had Sam lay her wrist on a board, then he used a wooden mallet to bang the ring closed. He did the other one, then measured around the bracelet. He brought Sam over to a vice and opened it, put Sam’s arm in it, and closed the vice down on the bracelet. This went on for a while, squeezing and measuring each ring until Billy was satisfied they were both perfectly round. Then we broke for lunch.

In the farmhouse, Sam and I met Bill’s wife Betty. Betty wore the bracelets too.

“I cut her collar off several years ago,” Bill informed us. “Folks around these parts just could never get used to the idea. Old Bet wouldn’t part with the bracelets though. Seein’ them on her, feelin’ them on her at night, I’d miss 'em too. Show these youngsters the other two, Hon.”

Betty lifted the hem of her long dress. Two bracelets adorned her ankles, larger ones, and made of thicker rod than those around her wrists. She smiled at Sam and me, then dropped her dress and turned back to the stove.

Betty served us all bowels of thick, delicious soup along with still warm fresh bread and creamy butter. I talked a bit about the great time we had at Leon’s place in the Bahamas. I talked about Rachel and about the belt Bill made for her.

“She show you both parts?” Bill asked. I nodded, and he continued. “She’s a fine lady, she is. She came to me with this idea and at first, I thought it was great, with what happened to poor Leon and all. But it was the hardest thing I ever done. Not the makin’ of it, it was at the end when I was puttin’ it on her. When I was banging down those three rivets, I just kept thinkin’ “this girl’s pussy’s gonna be shut away for a long time now”. Me and the missus went to visit ‘em a year later. I took Rach aside and checked her over, I was worried how she could’a took to somethin’ like that 'round her all the time.”

Betty stepped in. “Them two was the happiest couple you ever saw. I don’t know how Rach ever stood that thing on her, but it seemed it brought the two of them together like nothin’ I ever seen, it did.”

“Yup,” Bill added.

I could see Sam was a little awkward negotiating eating her lunch with her new bracelets on. I could also see her eyes were on them almost all the time. Mine were too, for that matter. After a leisurely lunch, we headed back to the shop for part two.

Billy found a pair of heavy welding gloves, and an insulated sleeve, for Samantha. He had her put one sleeve and glove on and he tucked the cuff under her bracelet. He used strips of an insulating material and jammed them between the inside of the ring and the glove. He slid a thin plastic tube under the sleeve, positioning it under all the padding, in the area where the welding would take place. Connecting the tube to a regulator, he adjusted the airflow. An ancient sounding compressor somewhere in the shop wheezed to life.

“That tickles,” Samantha said.

“The air will keep things cool under there, darlin’. This all is going to be tight on you for a little while. You tell me if it troubles you too much.”

Bill used a clamp-like thing to press the bracelet tightly closed where the ends would be joined. He positioned Sam’s arm over a tank of water.

“If it starts to get really hot, you drop into the water. OK? If it’s not too bad, you wait for me to tell you. Don’t look at the flame either, it’ll hurt your eyes.”

Billy took off his glasses and put on a pair of dark ones. He took up the torch and lit it with a bang and a whoosh. He tuned the flame. Then he picked up a thin piece of filler rod and brought the blue flame down onto the bracelet around Sam’s wrist. The spot where the bracelet was cut began to glow red, then yellow, and finally a bright white. Separated from her skin by a thin bit of padding. Billy quickly worked the torch and the filler rod around the joint. He pushed up on the bottom of the clamp to raise the bracelet off the insulating padding and, working fast, he finished the weld on the inside. Then he shut off the torch valves and the flame went out with a pop. He set the torch aside and used an air hose to start cooling the metal down.

“You OK, honey?” he asked. “It has to cool slowly or the metal becomes brittle. You’ll get surface cracks then.” He took a few drops of water and let them fall on the red-hot weld. They popped and fizzled into steam. He blew some more air. Sam began to get agitated as the heat finally soaked through the padding. A final blast of compressed air and Billy plunged my wife’s arm into the tank of water.

Bill pulled the padding from under the bracelet and pulled the sodden glove off her hand. Sam had a nice bracelet around her left wrist.

“Her right hand’s a bit bigger than her left,” Bill said to me, “so I made that one a cunt hair big-oops, sorry miss. A little bigger than her left one, so they’ll feel right.”

Billy repeated the welding procedure with Sam’s other bracelet. With the welding done, he clamped one in the vice and used a small hand-held grinder to smooth out the welds. He used a variety of little stones and sandpaper wheels to grind and then polish the joints. Sam sat on the bench, her arm in the bracelet that was clamped in the vice, watching him.

Billy worked for over three hours, making the joints in the two bracelets perfect. He wrapped plastic around Sam’s wrists under each bracelet and used a polishing compound to make the metal sparkle. When he was done, you could not find where the bracelets had been welded, so perfect was his workmanship. We went out into the sunlight to admire Samantha’s new jewellery.

“They’re really nice,” Sam said to him. “Thanks, Billy.” She gave the old man a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you darling. I always enjoy addin’ a bit of beauty to an already pretty girl.”

Betty invited us to stay for supper but I declined. I was eager to get back to the hotel. Bill walked us to the car and I gave him the bottle. I also gave him the five hundred dollars. When I’d first seen his place, I had serious doubts about the man’s abilities to produce the things I’d seen, but now, seeing Sam and her bracelets flashing in the sunlight, I knew it had been well worth coming here. Billy Brown peeled off a hundred and gave it back to me. “Buy this girl a pretty new dress,” he said, handing me the bill.

“Thanks, Billy,” I said, shaking his hand, “you’re a true craftsman.”

We drove back into the city and I stopped at a shopping plaza. At a hardware store, I bought a medium sized brass padlock. We had a quick bite to eat in a restaurant there, then we headed back to the hotel. We both took a fast shower together. Sam sat down on the bed. I had her put her hands behind her back. The lock slipped easily through both her bracelets and I clicked it closed. It was just too perfect.

I lay on my back and I had Sam move herself on top of me, upside down. She had no hands with which to support herself so she nestled her face in my crotch. I feasted on pussy pie for dessert, lapping her slit and tinkling her rings with my tongue, pushing in as deep inside her as I could get. Sam moved her head around and got my cock into her mouth, then went down on it, taking it deep. I had my head propped up on a pillow and I could see her hands grasping her ass cheeks, her shiny new bracelets locked together with the lock. I stroked the length of her slit, then settled in to madly attack her clit with my tongue. I ate Sam through three huge cums, my face and hair drowned in her sticky juices by the time I’d finished. Sam was bobbing her head on my cock and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I reached past her ass and grabbed hold of her hands. I felt the smooth surface of the steel bracelets, and I came in a massive outburst into my sweet wife’s mouth.

A little later, Sam rolled off me and I reached for the key on the bedside table. I fitted the key and opened the lock. It came off her bracelets with a simple twist. Fast, easy, no fuss. Just perfect. We were both covered in cum, so we took another quick shower together. Sam’s new bracelets looked simply stunning against her bare skin. The polished, silver coloured steel against her skin, nicely tanned from our time in the sun. The two bracelets lent a kind of symmetry to her entire body that I found most pleasing to the eye, and the bondage applications would be only limited by our imaginations. The two bracelets slid around easily on her wrist, and I tried to get them off over her soapy hands, but I saw that they were too small to even begin to go over them. After we’d washed, I dried her off and looked closer at the two rings of steel. There was no way to tell where the welds had been made.

We got dressed and went out to a restaurant down the street for a snack. I had a coffee, Sam ordered a glass of milk, and we had a few flaky pastries to go along with it. That night in bed, I locked the bracelets together in front of her and Sam slept that way, her hands stuck together and upon my chest as I held her warm body close to me.

We had to fly to Atlanta to get a connecting flight back home. With delays and the time change, it took most of the day to reach Toronto. There, the weather was rainy, grey and cold, but no amount of aggravation could dampen our spirits after such a wonderful honeymoon as we’d just had. The hustle and the traffic on the drive home was now a novelty to me, something I’d almost gotten to miss over the past couple weeks.

At home, a ton of messages and e-mails awaited me. They’d wait until tomorrow. I did however phone Mike to let him know we were back, and to find out about Lisa.

“We let her out last week,” Mike said to me, Samantha listening in on the extension, “Thirty nine days.” I heard Sam’s intake of breath. “She was in really rough shape, but she’s doing OK now. How’d you two make out?”

I told Mike a little about the wedding, and our trip to paradise. I invited him and the girls over for dinner the next day. “I’ll do a roast on the barbie, no big deal,” I said. “You’ll hear about the trip, and Sam wants to have a chat with Lisa, I’m sure.”

“Great,” Mike said. “See you then.”

It was around the middle of the afternoon the next day, and I saw Mike’s Jag turn into my driveway and park beside the house. Sam and I greeted him and his two lovely companions at the door. I could see our friend’s eyes briefly flicker over Samantha’s new bracelets, then return for slightly longer looks. Mike took her hands in his to greet her with a kiss and I noticed one bracelet slip down her arm and bump against his fingers. He looked again at it, but made no mention. Our guests seated themselves in our kitchen and drinks were passed around. Liselle was the one to take Sam’s hands and look closer at her two bracelets. Mike then asked, and we told them about Samantha’s new permanent jewellery and the story of how she came to get them. Both Mike and his two girls were quite taken with the whole idea and I ended up giving Mike the phone number for Billy Brown’s welding shop.

“Old Billy’s quite the character,” I warned Mike, “and I’m sure he’d get a kick out of doing something for these two beauties of yours.”

We chatted about our trip and the wedding, Mike and the girls told us about Lisa’s time in the cage. I popped outside from time to time to check on the roast beef cooking on the barbecue. “Lisa wanted to stay in longer,” Mike told us, "she was totally out of her mind at the end. She couldn’t talk from having that gag down her throat for so long, she couldn’t even think straight. We started to get her out of there and she really got agitated about it. Being in there was all she’d known after all that time, and she didn’t want anything else but to be left alone inside that cage. Liselle and I got the two cocks out of her and we loosened all the restraints. Then we had to leave her alone for a while.

"Once Lisa’s restraints were loose, she had to start moving to support herself, and that’s when she started feeling it. All her muscles had gotten weak from not being used for so long and she started screaming from all the pain she was in. I tell you, Jim, it wasn’t a pretty scene. Liselle went in to try to help her and I was getting kinda worried, but eventually she got herself a bit more under control and we got her out of the thing.

“I carried her upstairs and put her to bed. She’d lost weight and she looked really bad. She had marks on her from the shackles and from where the parts of the cage had pressed on her. Her wrists and ankles had sores on them from rubbing inside the shackles and her knees had sores from the rug she’d been kneeling on. Her pussy was raw from the dildo there, and her throat was raw from the one in her mouth. She slept for a few hours, and then Liselle came down to get me. Lisa, tell these people what you told me that night.”

“It was the most incredible experience of my life,” she said, “being trapped inside that cage for so long.”

Lisa didn’t elaborate at first, and Mike gently prompted her. “Tell Samantha about how it made you feel, being in there.”

In a quiet, sometimes shaky voice, Lisa spoke. “The first couple days were fun,” she said. "I felt safe and warm inside the cage. Liselle was there, and Master would come to see me, to touch me in there. I could move a bit and the dildos would give me pleasure. Sometimes I’d get an itch, or something would start to hurt. I’d move around to try to get some relief and the dildos were always there, inside me, stroking me. Something would be itchy and I’d twist and move but I couldn’t reach it and I’d pull harder and I’d shift around as much as I could. I’d start to shake myself and there was nothing I could do about the itch, nothing I could do. I’d start cumming and I’d rock back onto the cock and I’d cum again. I’d cum…

"Later on, things didn’t hurt so much but I couldn’t shit too well with the big dildo in my pussy. Sister would hold the pan and I’d try, but I couldn’t, and then later on it would come. Master wouldn’t allow the rear cock to come out, only the one in front, so I could eat. I didn’t want sister to have to clean my mess all the time, and when she’d come to feed me, I could stretch forward a bit more and I’d try to shit then. I couldn’t get the cock all the way out of my pussy, but I could go a bit easier, so it was better.

"Some time later you came, Miss Samantha, you came to visit me and it made me happy to see you. I remembered that you touched me inside the cage and it made me feel very good, since sister had been warned many times by Master that I should be left alone in there and not be touched and stroked like you did to me. But then you had to leave when Master saw and got angry with us. Sister fed me my dinner and then put the dildo back into my mouth, and I was left all alone after, just a lonely little slave girl and the hard steel that held me so tightly inside the cage.

"It was starting to be not so much fun anymore then. Master would come and touch me and say what a good girl I was, but then he’d go away and I’d be all alone in the big empty, silent room. Just me and the little steel cage around me. The two dildos weren’t making me feel good anymore and I couldn’t get the one inside my mouth out and I couldn’t get the other one out of my pussy. I’d try to turn my head and push backwards to get the rubber cock out of my mouth but the chain would dig into my neck and I couldn’t move back far enough or twist my head enough to get it out. Then I’d have to move forwards again and it would push deep into my mouth and go down my throat a little.

"Master left for a week and he’d told sister not to bother me except for mealtimes which were twice a day. I began to get very sad then because I was left alone for such a long time then, just me and the hard steel around me. Just a sad little girl locked up tight inside a cage. I just lay there stuck, hanging inside there for long, lonely times. I didn’t hurt anymore, I couldn’t feel myself much at all. Just the two cocks inside me, rubbing me every time I moved a little bit. I would squeeze them, first the one in my mouth and then the one behind me. Then again, and again. Faster and faster until I started to cum. I’d cum and cum, I guess until I fell asleep because I’d cum so many times.

"Master came back from his trip and he told me that I’d beaten the record, but I didn’t understand what he meant by it. Master and sister had their supper with me that day, downstairs beside my cage. Master fed me my food and I ate from His hand. Later on, He touched me and He made me cum three times.

"I had become a part of the cage that surrounded me, the cage that held me so tightly. We were one. But then they started to take away the cage that had been with me for so long; they, Master and sister, began to take me away from my cage. I started to feel pain again as the cage that had become part of me was loosened and I began to fall down, since it no longer held me tightly embraced anymore. Master later said that I acted very badly then, and I apologized to Him for it, but at the time I didn’t know what was happening to me, only that my cage wasn’t making me feel good anymore, only hurting me.

“I’d been inside the cage for thirty nine days.”

I was hoping that the roast hadn’t caught fire, but I couldn’t leave the room while Lisa was speaking. Over a month, locked into a tight little cage, how could anyone stand something like that? Samantha had hung on Lisa’s every word, and I could see in her eyes that she understood exactly how Lisa could have stood being held immobile for so long inside the thing. And Mike too had such a look of fierce pride over his girl surviving her ordeal so well. There was little question that Sam wanted to try some time in the cage, and I hoped that we could do it before our baby growing inside her got too big, making it impossible for her withstand it. She was determined to try Mike’s cage for herself, but she was also worried about the baby, about if it would cause problems if she was locked inside the cage for a while. We talked about it in bed, later on that night.

Samantha’s belly was beginning to get a bit bigger, and whether it was because of her pregnancy, or all the great food we’d stuffed ourselves with on our week in the Bahamas, I was unsure. I stroked the little soft bump of her tummy with my hand. Samantha’s hands were behind her back, her bracelets locked together behind her. I’d attached the end of a long chain to the lock on her bracelets, the other end was locked to the headboard of my bed. Our bed.

“I think we should talk to your doctor,” I said, “about what could happen if you spent a long time in Mike’s cage. He’ll probably tell you not to do it, but at least we’ll get some facts and then take it from there.”

“I don’t want to do it if it might cause problems for the baby,” Sam told me.

“How long do you think you could stand being in there?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I’d like to try for as long as I can. After the baby’s born I won’t be able to do it.”

I thought for a few moments. “When he’s a little older, I could watch him while mommy goes on a little vacation.”

Sam looked at me and smiled. “Yes, I guess that would work.”

I pulled her close in a big hug. Samantha couldn’t hug me back, but that was OK

“I love you, Samantha.”

“I love you too, master.”

[End Chapter 4 “The Ad”] dino@canoemail.com