Fettered Frolic


Traci and Debby, two young, beautiful girls working as waitresses while waiting to be discovered by a modeling agent, go to a night club one Friday evening and meet two handsome men. The men invite them to spend the weekend at their home, built against the rocky foothill of a mountain. Little do the girls realize the bizarre and shocking games the men play with naive girls they snare in their secret lair. The men have converted their abandoned silver mine into a fiendish labyrinth of game rooms and cells, turning it into a fun and games s*x paradise. Their discovery of the truth, and the multitude of s****l adventures they are compelled to participate in opens a whole new world of exotic orgasms and intense pleasures for them. Follow Traci and Debby from pleasure chamber to cell to group games as the whores chase after ever new surprises. When danger rears its hideous head, they confront their worst nightmare. What happens next? Read Fettered Frolic and all will be revealed. The most tragic mistake a reader can make is to assume it’s just fiction.

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Chapter One-1
Chapter One Table Service Debby and I sat at the table, silent and watchful. We were at the narrow ends, with the length of the table between us. Our two male companions sat at the sides enjoying our company; conversing, laughing politely, attending to our every need. The food was delicious and varied, expensive and perfectly prepared. From a distance it would appear to be a normal social occasion. Then you would begin to notice the odd things that were happening. With courteous attention the men would pick up our fork or spoon, dip it into the food, and place it carefully in our mouths. When we glanced down at our champagne glasses, the men raised them slowly to our lips while we sipped. Debby and I never touched our silverware or napkins. We kept our arms stretched straight out horizontal and level to our sides, our hands always beyond the corners of the polished wood table, quite unmoving, never using them. We couldn’t. Our wrists were cuffed to the silver chains secured to the strong metal poles rising from the floor, ending level with our shoulders. The tension on our wrists was just short of painful, but uncomfortable enough to be a constant reminder of our vulnerable predicament. Under the table our micro-skirted bare legs were spread wide, our ankles cuffed and chained to the ring bolts in the floor, positioned wider apart than the classic design table legs. Our blouses gaped open, shamelessly refusing to conceal our lack of bras. The half-exposed nakedness of our generously jutting breasts delighted the two handsome men dining with us. When there was a momentary lull in the conversation I looked across the length of the table and spoke softly, “I’m sorry I got you into this, Debby. It sounded like a fun idea when we were giddy with champagne, but now...” “It’s OK, Traci. Mark and David don’t look evil, just mysterious, and a little bit scary. Being held captive for a while is kind of dangerous, but—golly, it’s exciting. Do you feel it, too?” Her lip trembled as she tried to smile. “I’m scared, but gee, I’m having fun.” Mark and David laughed quietly along with her nervous giggle. “She’s right,” David said. He leaned toward me, lifted my chin slightly with his fingertips and kissed me with a long, lingering tongue massage inside my mouth. He sat back in his chair, but his fingertips remained. They traced the curve of the heavy, leather collar locked around my neck, then drifted down to feel an erotic path between my shivering breasts. His mouth tightened to an almost cruel seriousness. “You are too trusting, my naïve and pretty little captive, and now you are both the helpless prisoners of wicked and cruel villains.” I thought I heard more than a hint of taunting in his voice. The safety of their promises was fading, but I didn’t want to accuse them with only my imagination as evidence. Besides—I tugged at my restraints—it was useless, Debby and I were too late to say no! “Are you girls too warm with your clothes on?” Mark asked. Debby nodded, her face flushed with champagne and embarrassment. This is the reason Debby and I agreed to be kept prisoners and defenseless. Debby is so shy and inhibited, but she has a healthy desperation for s*x. Me, too. She never could have an orgasm with that dork of a boyfriend she clung to back in Iowa. She and I wanted s*x with real men who knew how to give a woman orgasm after orgasm, and being chained this way we don’t have to feel guilty, just squirming helplessly while enjoying the excitement of being ravished. Well, here we are, about to get our wish. We asked for it, and I hope we didn’t make a terrible mistake. We took a huge risk, handing our bodies over in captivity to a couple of strange men we met only a few hours ago. David leaned over toward me. “How about you, Traci? Are you comfortable?” He touched my shoulder and I felt the tremble in his fingers. I guess I was trembling, too. With only the light from the two candles on the table, this basement room was as dark and intimidating as a dungeon. This Friday evening had started out so ordinary... *** A tall, good-looking man with dark hair was dragging a willing Debby across the night club dance floor toward me, a victorious grin on his face. “Traci,” Debby said, “This is Mark. He and his friend David want to dance with us. How about it?” She tossed her gleaming black pageboy hair and the sparkle in her eyes matched the facets of light reflected from her scandalously short blue-sequined cocktail dress. “Sure,” I replied. Traci and I had both lost our wimpy boyfriends - such as they were - when we moved to northern Arizona three months earlier. With the terrible loneliness I felt, and the wine buzzing in my head, I welcomed the attention. David was waltzing solo behind them, a light-haired, artistic, tall and muscular type. He was dressed in a rich dark, claret color turtleneck and black slacks. “May we?” he asked, extending his hand politely. “Sure.” I stood up, noticing how he stared at my legs, almost their entire length showing below the hem of my red velvet dress. It was even higher and more daring than Debby’s. My face was flushed with the cocktails and naughty thoughts swirling in my head. A few dances later we four were sitting together in a dim corner, a lone candle making our faces appear to float in the darkness. Debby’s raven black hair stroked her neck, complimenting her ruby cupid’s-bow mouth. My strawberry-blonde pelt nuzzled my shoulders and bare back. I casually brushed it back and licked my lips absentmindedly. I was reeling from the masculine scent of cologne and dancing with the press of a hard-muscled male body against mine. I could feel it…and so could Debby; something animal, something sexually magnetic, some secret male power these men had. Debby and I glowed in the aura of attention these mature, handsome males showered on us. They were real men! Not like those pimply pizza boys whose imaginations always pawed at our breasts and lifted our skirts. I was dreaming fantasies about David and I... “Dave and I haven’t had dinner yet,” Mark was saying, “how about you ladies joining us? Are you hungry?” “Famished,” I replied. Debby blushed and nodded, smiling. David reached in front of me and squeezed my hands gently in his. “Mark knows a fantastic place for us to eat. Nice and private, and we can be free to enjoy ourselves without worrying about who’s watching and listening. “Where is this place?” I asked. “Let’s have another drink before we discuss it,” Mark said with a smile. He and David glanced at each other. I know that look... The waitress brought an ice bucket with champagne, and the men toasted Debby’s beauty, then mine. David put his arm around my shoulders and I snuggled against him. “Mark and I have this place about fifteen miles from here up in the hills—a nice house—and we have a live-in Italian cook. She makes everything taste...well...you’ll just have to find out for yourself” “Oh, gee,” Debby said with the slightest of alcoholic slurs, “I’d like that, but...I don’t know if we should ...” “Listen,” Mark said, his voice a mere whisper, “I think I know what you want to say. What would you say if I told you there is a way to make it OK—make everything that happens my responsibility—Dave’s responsibility. Dave and I have everything arranged for you to enjoy the most wonderful weekend of your lives. We would have total control over you; everything you do, and everything you feel. And since you would never have the opportunity to make a decision, or have the freedom to prevent what happens to you, you would never have to feel guilty or ashamed of having the fun of being unable to control what you are doing and feeling.” “Doing and feeling what?” Debby asked. “Let’s have another bottle of champagne while I explain my idea,” Mark said. It was crazy! It was wild! But Debby and I looked at each other, tipsy grins on our lonely lips. “We agree!” Debby said in a husky voice. “Great!” Mark’s voice was so masculine and sexy he made my belly tighten. Damn, I’m horny! My knees were weak as we left and walked to their car. David opened the rear door of the Lexus and Debby got in with Mark. I rode in the front with David, my dizzy head resting against his shoulder. He shoved a CD into the player and soft, enticing music lulled us to perfect contentment. The trip through the shimmering suburbs and out into the wooded hills of northern Arizona was a magic carpet ride. Are we nuts? But they are so handsome and polite. I looked out the side window and saw a star plummet from the velvet canopy of sky down into the hills where we were heading. I wish - I wish - I wish for this to be OK. It’s got to be OK! I’m so horny for a man, and so is Debby. We’re going to enjoy this—I hope! David was talking on his cell phone. He was saying something about clothing styles and sizes. *** Even in the dark we could tell this was no ordinary house. It was more like a one story mansion crouching against a cliff in the rocky foothills. Hardly any windows, and those were tiny, and the flat roof made it look too much like an asylum. Mark’s Lexus pulled into the driveway cut through the rock and soil of the hill, and a windowless steel garage door rolled open. Not up overhead, but sideways, into the hillside. David drove the car inside and the door rumbled shut behind us before the light came on. I shivered when I heard the barrier lock thud into place. “We don’t like nosy neighbors,” David said. What neighbors? There wasn’t another house within five miles! “Hey,” I said, “my seat belt won’t release and my door won’t unlock.” David turned and smiled at me. “Just a precaution in case you changed your minds and decided to leave before the excitement begins.” Ting-a-ling-a-ling! The goose bumps alarm was ringing silently in my head. Nah, he’s just kidding—I hope. David reached his left hand under his seat pressing something. Debby’s and my seat belts popped apart, and the door locks released. Mark was already outside, opening the door. We stepped out onto the dark blue carpet and I felt the brisk rush of an air-conditioned breeze. In the wall to our left was another door, metal and windowless. There was no handle or knob. It was opened from the inside by a short but curvaceous Spanish-looking girl of about nineteen; barely older than Debby and I. She had long, shiny black hair falling behind her to her waist and was wearing a skimpy, backless maid’s uniform of crisp black satin. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra, with only the gauzy white top of her lace-trimmed apron to barely cover her generous breasts. The frilly lace trim of her flared skirt was at least three inches above the tops of her sheer white stockings. Shiny white satin garters held them up. Gleaming black stiletto heels flattered her tiny feet. “Come in, Senioritas,” she said in a heavy accent. “This is Consenta,” David said. “She takes care of the house when we are away.” He hugged me, “And she takes care of Mark and me when we are home.” Her genuine smile showed two white rows of perfect teeth. “Wow,” I whispered to Debby, “introduce me to her orthodontist. “Not on our meager waitressing wages,” Debby whispered back. “I wish I could afford her cosmetic surgery, just look at her vivacious t**s!” We went inside, through a foyer into the hallway. Through one archway I saw a kitchen big enough for the Ritz Hotel. “That’s Lucrezia, our Italian cook,” David said. “M-m-m-m, smells like dinner is almost ready.” “Can I freshen up a bit?” Debby asked. “The dancing and champagne have made me...” She turned to Consenta, “...do you have a bit of deodorant I might borrow?” “Oh, Senioritas, we have thought of that. Both of you and Masters Mark and David will enjoy a hot shower before dinner.” “Separately, of course,” David said. “One bathroom for you, a separate one for Mark and me.” “Come, Senioritas, I will assist you.” Debby and I waited until the men disappeared around a turn down the hall and we heard a door open and shut. Then we followed Consenta around a turn in the other direction. The bathroom was bigger than our apartment, the sunken tub larger than our bathroom!

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