Allison's Adventures in Wonderland: Chapter IV

No Walk in the Park

Hungry to get at his auburn beauty, he jerked the covers of the far bed to the floor in one motion before helping her gracelessly onto it. As she lay back, he made his way to the foot of the bed, knelt between her feet and pushed her bent legs so far apart that her thighs nearly made one continuous straight line, knees hovering just inches above the bed, heeled feet digging into the mattress either side of his shoulders. Between them he plied his craft, tongue dancing on her rubbery, erect clit, still hiding under panties he’d been too rushed to remove. His oral repertoire also included sucking and biting her erect little nubbin through the fabric, mixing his saliva with the dampness she contributed from the inside. Lovingly he worked, motivated by her excitement, wanting to bring her to climax.

She lay flat on her back, still wearing her dress, eyes closed, oblivious to everything else around her. Her universe had shrunk to a single spot which, even when engorged to its maximum, was no larger than a pencil eraser. The time had long passed when she remembered gripping the bed sheet in tight fists. She writhed in pleasant agony upon the bed; there was no other word to describe it. Her head lay facing left, her chest heaved, her breath caught irregularly, and her hands tugged at the sheets as her back bowed under his oral assault.

He’d had orgasmic women before, but this one looked primed to go far beyond his normal experience. Something different was building, something which made him excited and a bit nervous at the same time. However, before he could process more, her breathing took on a new dimension, she bit her bottom lip, lifted her hips off the bed, grunted twice, pulled the sheet free as her hand moved to her mouth, and then squirted hot clear liquid forcefully enough to produce a short stream even through her underwear. As this pooled on the bed, her body wracked hard to the left, her hands went to her crotch, her legs came together, and she lay on her side, back still locked in a rigid arch. There she shuttered, twitched, and dribbled Jill juice in tempo with her contracting gash.

He rubbed her legs as she continued to jerk and spasm, lost in the moment. Eventually she rolled onto her back and he moved beside her where he placed a hand under her head and held her wet hands in his until she was calmly back in the present. Lovingly he kissed her and waited for her to speak, determined not to interrupt her sexual Shangri-la. Soon she looked at him with a sweaty smile and let out a soft “wheewww” as she blushed and covered her face with the backs of her hands. With her skirt still above her waist and her knees bent unconsciously to keep them out of the puddle, she propping herself up on her elbows, spread her legs slightly, and surveyed the wet spot; some parts of which still contained standing liquid. Dropping back in a thud, embarrassed, she said laughingly, “Please, don’t let me do that again.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning dawned bright and fair; light streamed in through the cracks in the curtains, and Allison awoke in fine spirits. It was one of those mornings when she found herself instantly, fully awake. She had slept like the dead. Her hand instinctively made to reach for her peach as it had done nearly every morning of her post-pubescent life, but rope soon bit into skin, holding her in check, reminding her that she was in fact bound, not just to her bed, but to the will of another. It was the tug which brought her back to reality, to a soreness she noticed under her sheets. Her bare trim felt like it was covered with a dull burning rash which extending from thigh to thigh and half way to her navel. Conscious of this fact, she contritely recalled what had caused it. Embarrassed by her behavior the evening before, she decided then and there that she’d go without her own pleasure if it truly pleased him for as long as he enjoyed it. She had to confess that she found the idea arousing. She could only surmise that it came from her new found desire to please him no matter what he asked. One thing she knew for sure; as long as he would have her, she wanted to serve and please him. She secretly hoped it would be for a very long time.

At that realization, she relaxed, reveling in the comfort of her resignation to the will of another.

Not a superior will, but a strong one, a comfortable, secure, and most importantly, a caring one.

Now at peace, a full morning bladder pressed itself upon her awareness. Hearing no one in the house, she called out for her Sir. Hearing no stir, she smiled and waited; content to wet the bed if necessary knowing she pleased him. However, long before that became necessary, she heard the back door shut and his now familiar foot fall advancing down the hall towards her room.

~~~

We enjoyed a leisurely stroll through the woods and fields on our way to town that morning. Just on the outskirts of which she asked, “Sir, will you please remove the leash and collar? I’m a bit self-conscious about others seeing me this way.”

I refused. “You are my pet” I explained, “It’s time everyone else knew it too.”

Embarrassed, but without any resistance she walked on. Her hands, nervous, almost conscious, clasped themselves behind her back, wanting to prevent revealing any of her firm, rounded derrière as her skirt bounced joyfully in cadence with her youthful strides.

We made our way first to the tailor’s shop to pick up her dress. He had it already wrapped in brown paper for us. He presenting me with his bill and I paid him. However, before we could leave, he noticed the leash and nonchalantly asked if I wanted to see my girl in the alterations before taking it home. Shaking my head, I replied, “I’m sure it’s fine as long as you shortened it to match the ones I bought last week.”

Absent mindedly putting my payment in his pocket, he ventured, “Let’s just say that I took the liberty to umm . . . enhance the design . . . more in keeping with the young lady’s . . . aah, station, shall we call it.” At this he lightly fingered his shirt collar with two fingers as though scratching his neck to indicate hers.

Not understanding the tailor’s intentions and comfortable now to be in town, out of my confined cottage and shop, Allison insisted she try it on too. One can only imagine that such a vivacious young lady would want to prolong such an outing as much as she could.  So, without any further thought, she took the dress out of its wrapping and looked at the tailor, asking by the very act where she could change.

The tailor, recognizing her eagerness, smiled like one who knew an inside secret then gestured to a tri-paneled folding screen in a back corner of the shop. “There’s a mirror back there too so you can see how it fits” he added smiling at her back as she turned away from us.

Released from the leash, she disappeared behind the flimsy privacy partition.  After a few muffled shuffles, she flung her green dress over the top of the screen. More shuffling ensued. Before the tailor or I could begin a conversation, we heard her gasp in horror. The tailor chuckled. Being the only one in the room now still left out of the prank, I asked, “What?”

From behind the screen we heard Allison yell, “What the Hell have you done to my dress, you moron!”

“What’s wrong my dear?” I asked perplexed while the tailor grinned satisfied.

“He’s ALTERED my dress! That’s what’s wrong” she complained, nearly shouting.

“Come on out and let me see. If you don’t like it, I’m sure he’ll be glad to . . .”

“NO!” she interrupted. “It can’t be fixed. The bumbling idiot has totally fucked it.”

Going back to the screen I looked in and found her leaning against the wall with her hands folded over her chest, cupping her breasts, face red, nostrils flared with rage.

“Let me see” I said, motioning for her to approach.

“There’s nothing to see, that incompetent bastard has trashed my dress” is all she would say.

Still puzzled, I advanced and quietly whispered, “Give me your hands, Allison.” She closed her eyes and dropped her shaking hands enough for me to see the cause of her anger.  

The tailor, in a veritable stroke of practical genius, and acting purely on a whim, had removed the bodice of her dress, at least the bust part of it. Beyond that, it was just the way I’d ordered it. To wear it though meant my young lady would be essentially topless.

I smiled and took her by the only hand I could grab before she withdrew it and said, “Come, let’s let the tailor see his handiwork.”

Blushing and begging me not to do it, she managed to partially cover her bare breasts with her free hand before being very reluctantly drug from behind the screen. Once out in the open, I moved behind her quietly. Pushing her forward gently, I found her other hand also and secured it loosely behind her back so the craftsman could enjoy the results of his risky work. At the sight, the tailor let out a whistle. “Very nice, if I say so myself” is all he uttered, beaming from ear to ear.

Knowing she was looking for any opportunity to break away and change out of her sartorial nightmare, I released her sweaty hands but took her firmly by the shoulders, and refused to let her move. I held her thus for a few moments to let her get her bearings, then added, “I’d like you to wear it today for me, if you don’t mind, Allison.”

~~~

Finding her hands free once again, they instinctively covered her pert breasts. However, she realized that the Hatter had not meant it as a request. Thus, remembering last night’s discipline and this morning’s surrender to his complete control, she lowered her hands, placed her trust in his judgment, and then, red with shame, nodded assent. Seizing the opportunity to demonstrate her subservience in a public, tangible way, without a word she reached back for his coat pocket, found the clasp end of her leash, and secured it to her collar.  Probing again, she found the handle, and without looking up, offered it to him, saying softly, “I’m ready, Sir.”

~~~

Before we left, the tailor wrapped up the dress she’d removed and handed it to her. She took it without making eye contact. I thanked him for his work and creativity. He nodded in recognition and smiled his approval. “If this works out well” I added, “I might have you alter the other two the next time I’m in town.”

“Drop ‘em by any time” he said with a wave as we opened the door to leave.

Moving out onto the open street, the cooler air once again made her nipples point as if straining for some unseen goal, pulled by an invisible chord. They stood out proud and perky, making me proud to be leading her along for the town’s people to enjoy. Widgie, isn’t she beautiful? So pretty, neck so small, breasts so alert – alive! Humility suits her well.

As we made our way down the crowded thoroughfare, she would wince as she caught people, men especially, looking at her nubile nips, particularly since her little buds stood out so prominently on display for the first time in her life. Once while making our way through a small pack of people, she covered her breasts with her hands protecting them from the prospect of being handled. Seeing this, I reprimanded her. “No, Allison, I want your titties on proud display for everyone to enjoy. Don’t cover them again or I’ll have to take action to prevent it.”

Blushing once again, she dropped her hands to her side as we continued walking and replied, “Yes, Sir.”

Before reaching the end of the main street, we entered the leather smith’s shop. The proprietor had made the excellent collar and leash she wore. As we entered, the smell of all things leather soothed us with its comforting, hushed smell. We made our way to the bench where the smith, a middle aged man, plied his trade in silence. Hearing us enter, he did not look up until he reached a good stopping place, at which time he asked what we needed. Detailing to him that I wanted some nice cuffs for her wrist and ankles with metal loops for binding, he paused to take some measurements and mentioned he could have some ready in an hour if I’d be in town that long. I confessed that we could tarry that long, but that I had one more request which I wanted to discuss privately.   

Wordlessly nodding discrete assent, he looked from her to me, directing me with his eyes to a rafter Allison could not reach; he then stood and shuffled to a corner of his shop out of ear shot. There he waited as I tied off her leash, leaving her bound by the neck, chest calm, hands clasped behind her back. Kissing her lightly on her forehead, I asked her to wait patiently, then joined him in the corner and described to him what I wanted.

  ~~~

He has left me here tied by the leash like a dog. Now he stands with a man I’ve never met, who now knows that I’ll be bound by my wrists and ankles at times. It won’t take much stretching of his imagination to realize that this bare-breasted girl, parading around town in a collar and leash will someday, and likely very soon – and often – be stretched to her limits, shackled naked to the four corners of a big bed and used very roughly. God, this is making me so wet. I can feel warm cream seeping down my thighs. I hope we go home after this and he decides to try out the cuffs while fucking me senseless. Oh, how much I need to cum. I don’t think he realizes that where I’m from girls do it all the time. I certainly did. I’m so soaked I can smell myself! . . .  I wonder what the smith’s gesticulations mean. First around his waist, then between the legs . . .  now holding both hands there against his lower abdomen . . . he’s clearly not referencing his own genitalia . . . . My Master is smiling and nodding. Apparently, the smith has done this before.

~~~

Leaning in close, he asked in a hushed tone, “What else can I do for you, Sir?”

“I’m hoping you can also make my pet a firm chastity device. Have you ever done such a thing before?”

“Oh, Yes, many times” he beamed. “I’ve made almost all of them for the young ladies in town. I even made one for my mistress. She’s never escaped it yet” he said adding a wink. “Typically the older generation insists on metal ones, ‘Iron Maidens’ they call ‘em, but they rust and need much more care. Besides, with the leather they won’t chafe or blister once broken in. And while they can grow quite soft and comfortable over time, mine are tight and thick enough to prevent any intrusion or stimulation from the lusty lass wearing it. She won’t be able to tamper with whatever you have in mind for her I quite assure you.”

Satisfied with his pitch and hand descriptions of the apparatus, I ordered one for her. “Can I pick them both up today?” I asked hopefully.

Doing quick mental calculations while rubbing his chin he said, “I don’t see why not. I have many of the parts premade, all I’ll need to do is get some close measurements and cut them to fit. Why don’t you and your . . . what did you call her . . . pet?” he asked reluctantly, “get a picnic lunch up and enjoy a few hours in the park once I get some measurements?” he suggested turning to go get his measuring tape.

“Thanks, we will.”

Over his shoulder he called back a bit louder, “Oh, and don’t for get to purchase a lock before you leave if you want it to stay in place.”

I simply nodded making mental notes. I returned to Allison who was standing silently, shifting from foot to foot in wonder at what was about to transpire. The smith went to his bench, acquired what he needed and turned to join us.

As soon as he had crossed approximately half of the distance, he stopped and said, “Bring her into this small room. I do all my measuring here. Sometimes the ladies like their privacy you know” he added with a smirky wink.

Untying her leash, I followed the smith and lead her into a small room where cuffs hung by a chain from a rafter; two others were bolted to the floor. “Have her reach up and I’ll fasten her writs if you’ll bind her feet” he said already grunting at the reach over his head.

Allison asked, “Is all this really necessary?”

“Not all submit to the belt willingly, young lady” he said as he dispatched his task with the speed and detachment of one who’d done this many times before.

In short order we had Allison completely immobilized. Once done, the smith drew up a short three-legged stool to get a proper view, asking me to lift her dress so he could measure properly. “I’ve done this over loose fitting dresses before” he explained to me, “but the results are always a little disappointing. However, if her panties fit tightly, the numbers will be close enough for me to adequately compensate for them.”

I winked at him as I moved behind her and whispered in her ear, “If her panties fit tightly . . . .”

Her exposed posture raised her skirt enough to place at eye level her pink comb hanging delicately between her legs. Helping to complete the task, I slowly lifted her skirt above her waist and clasping my hands on her stomach to hold it there, revealing her bare bottom half to a total stranger. She trembled and closed her eyes tightly.

Letting out a sharp whistle the smith looked at me in shocked amazement, adding, “So the stories are true about the girls you hire for your shop.”

“I didn’t hire her, and she didn’t get that working in my shop.”

The smith just looked dismissively at me as he turned to his task. Beginning, he half cleared his throat in near disgust. Looking down, I could see why. She had soaked her entire crotch and thighs nearly to her knees. Something was clearly arousing her.

“My dear, why are you so wet?” I asked whispering in her ear.

She just blushed without a word.

Finding a towel, the smith wiped her glistening saddle seat and began measuring her. “Can you lift her dress any higher?” he queried, “I need to measure her waist above the hip joint.”

Trying, I finally said with a tone of resignation, “I’m sorry but because of the cut of the dress, that’s as high as it will go.”

“Then it’ll have to come off if you want this done right” he added aggravated at the time this would take.

Kissing her lightly on top of her head, I said, “Just relax, Allison, this won’t take but a minute.”

She looked back at me in pleading, nearly desperate tones as I began unbuttoning her dress from behind. A tear trickled down her left cheek as I unfastened each wrist cuff, one at a time, so she could remove her arms from the sleeves. Once completely freed the dress fell to about her knees in a hush of cloth. By now she was noticeably shaking so I held her just under her breasts, nuzzling her neck to comfort her.

Making small talk as he measured her around the waist, the smith asked, “How did she get this nasty rash if she doesn’t work in your shop?”

“I didn’t say she doesn’t work in my shop, I merely said I didn’t hire her. And how she got that is none of your concern” I added as he quickly ran one arm between her thighs to measure her front to back.

Often he had to touch her between her young legs. This made her shudder at first just from the shock of a stranger touching her most intimate parts. However, he deduced from her wetness how horny she was and took fiendish delight in accidentally stroking her nub as he measured. He’d measured enough young aroused ladies to know what the device was for. Once he had measured everything twice he ended with a not so accidental handling of her bean. At this prolonged touch, Allison laid her head back against me, her mouth opened, and her breathing loud enough for us both to hear. Then, before I could object, he stopped.

“Well” he said wiping his fingers on his towel, “she’s drenched again, shall I wipe her?”

“No, leave her that way. I like it” I added.

“You know she’ll attract every dog in the county” he said.

“I’ll take my chances” I assured him.

Putting his stool against the wall he said, “Ok, I have what I need to get started. Come back in a couple of hours and we’ll do the fitting.” Turning to go back to his bench, he stopped, looked back at her blistered pubes, and then with a raise of one eyebrow, shook his head in resignation before reiterating, “See you in a few of hours.”

After he left the room I circled in front of her. She was the model of feminine perfection bound there before me naked, dress hanging in folds at her knees, her skin pale except for the blood rash which stood out in stark relief. Her inner thighs were visibly moist again from the experience and I could even smell the wet pussy wafting through the air. I resisted the urge to fondle her myself. There would be ample time for that back home. Instead, I reached over her head and released her hands. Squatting, I released each ankle in turn. As she moved her feet to a more comfortable position, her dress finally fell in a cascading heap onto the floor. I made my way behind her so that once in place I could button it back for her. Reaching down to retrieve it left me once again, face to ‘face’ with her edible posterior. The temptation was just too great. I had to enjoy it on the spot. I placed both hands on the sides of her hips and buried my face into her fleshy mounds, licking between them until I heard her draw a deep breath. Keeping one hand in place, I urged her forward with the other until she was bent over, holding her knees with her hands. I grabbed the smith’s stool which placed her tight pucker right at eye level. Aroused by such an impromptu opportunity, I dug my tongue deep inside her sphinctered hole.  

She began gasping as my lingual muscle probed her privacy. I licked and bit and tongued her until we heard the smith approaching, interrupting our play. He never entered the room but we both knew we needed to take our play elsewhere lest we be discovered in such a compromising act.

Pulling up her dress, I helped her arms through the sleeves, adjusted the fit under her nubile breasts, and buttoned it. I took the dangling end of her leash as I moved in front of her to tell her I was ready to go. However, before I could get one word out of my mouth she grabbed me, placing one warm hand on each side of my face and kissed me deeply, sucking my tongue into her mouth. She let out a muted Mmmm as she breathed through her nose sharply against my face, tasted herself on oral intruder.

When she stopped, I regained my composure and told her that it was time we left. “I know, Sir” she said letting her hands fall to her side.

As I lead her to the front door, I looked back at her and noticed that she once again had unknowingly covered her titties with her hands. With a gentle, “Ahem” in her direction she castigated herself with an audible “AAARRH!” Then replied, “I’m sorry, Sir. It’s just a natural reaction. I’ll get over it in time.”

Opening the door, I said, “I know, but to prevent you from hiding your tits until I can bind you, get on all fours for me and I’ll lead you around like my pet until we come back.”

With a look of staggering unbelief, she slowly and very self-consciously knelt, feeling hard earth under her bare knees. Then in a moment of surreality, she placed both hands on the ground, noticing how differently gravity played upon her body in such a humiliating position. She felt the air circulate around her bare bottom and realized that anyone behind her could see her derrière and bald muff since her dress was far too short to hide them. Exposed this way, she crawled like a pet through the streets of town, unable to cover her nakedness. However, having been handled naked by a stranger and ass licked by her Master had left her slippery with lubricant, glistening in the day light for the curious to witness.

I walked her down the street until I found a shop where I procured locks and sundry hard wares. Having taken care of all the business we needed, we bought a small lunch of fresh fruits, bread and some cold meat. Satisfied that we had nothing left but to eat and wait on the leather smith, we made for the park to enjoy the warm afternoon sunshine and have our picnic.

Once there, I took her for a ‘walk’. She thanked me for the chance to crawl along in soft grass. The street hurt her knees she complained. I enjoyed leading her through all the grottoes and coves of the park, nodding as we encountered passersby. Soon we found a bench under a shady tree where few were apt to amble and I took a seat. She remained on all fours near my feet. Looking up at me for instructions, I simply told her to ‘sit’. She did, just like a cat or dog would have. Her pet training is going along splendidly, Widgie!

I spread my handkerchief over my lap and placed the food for our lunch on it.  Seeing this, she repositioned herself to face my lap. However, instead of letting her eat from the cloth, I broke her food into bites and tossed it onto the ground. At first she reached for it, but before she could touch it, I smacked her hand and told her firmly, “No! A pet eats with all her feet firmly on the ground.”

“You want me to . . . ?”

“Yes, eat on all fours, ass in the air. Surely you’ve watched your cat eat. Mimic him” I told her.

Resigned to her fate, she first sat back on her haunches, thighs resting on her calves, and then leaned forward to rest on her forearms. In spite the bite sized morsels it took her a few tries to get the hang of eating like an animal. Since we did not have a bowl, I gave her drinks from my bottle.  Although sometimes I was overly ambitious from a general lack of practice and it would dribble down her chin. Again, her instinct was to wipe it off with her arm. Nevertheless, I quickly denied her this right too. “Your cat doesn’t do that does he?” I asked. She just nodded and continued, water dribbling off her chin.

We soon finished and I tidied up our things into one small bundle. This left us nothing to do except wait for the time to return for her fitting. In the mean time I had her lie back and spread her legs obscenely. I wanted to see not only my handiwork of the previous night, but also to enjoy the moisture today’s activities had created. As I suspected, she was sticky with creamy, white, girl grease.

Every time she heard someone nearby, she attempted to close her legs. However, I prevented it by holding her knees apart with my feet. “If someone ventures by” I told her, “they’ll just see my pet sprawled on the ground enjoying an afternoon in the shade. Surely you’re cat enjoys this position while napping.”

She admitted, “He can be quite undignified in his choice of sleeping positions, Sir.”

“I expect the same from you, my pet.”

We relaxed this way for most of the afternoon, until I feared falling asleep myself. So, rousing us both, I told her we needed to get back to the shop. Glad to be able to close her legs, she quickly got back up on all fours and said with some relief, if not exactly enthusiasm, “I’m ready when you are, Sir.”

“Then before we get back to the shop, why don’t you take care of business like a good pet. I don’t want you soiling the smith’s floor while he’s trying to make delicate adjustments to your new belt.”

Blushing she asked, “You want me to pee out here for you?”

“Yes, right over against that tree would be fine” I said pointing to one adjacent to the walking path.

“But Sir, girl pets squat. Can’t I find a secluded spot?” she pleaded.

“No, I want you to hike your leg for me . . . facing the path.”

“Oh, my” is all she said before crawling red-faced to the nearby oak and hiking her leg to relieve herself.

 ~~~

As we entered, the smith rose from his bench and ushered us immediately into the small room again. “Strip her completely this time and shackle her for me while I get her belt” he said opening the door to the ‘fitting room’ without making eye contact.

She and I entered, she looked at me pleading, but I just told her to turn around. Once she was naked and bound hand and foot, he came in carrying a variety of things. Pulling up his stool, he poured a small amount of an oily substance onto his index finger then carefully pulled her clitoral hood back and applied it directly to her still puffy nubbin, holding his finger there until she began to move.

The gel’s effect was almost instantaneous. She began whimpering and thrusting her hips shamelessly, gyrating in nearly every direction simultaneously. The smith just looked at me and smiled. “So far, so good” he said.

Then, he quickly attached the belt portion around her waist. It was so tight that it seemed to dig into her flesh. Snapping it into place he aligned the buckle with her navel. Once secured, he took a long, irregularly shaped piece, which terminated in a small chain, and reaching between her newly slickened thighs, attached it to the rear of the belt, ignoring her breathy pleas for mercy. Satisfied that it was well seated, the smith let it dangle as he dabbed yet another cruelly generous dose of the gel onto her now throbbing bump. She nearly screamed this time, her hips taking on an involuntary life of their own. In one final act, he lathed it all over her puffy girl lips then slapped her hard there.

Wasting no time, he took the loose end hanging between her quivering thighs, deftly attached it in front to the buckle and held it in place until I could secure it with one of my locks. The design was ingenious; one lock rendered both parts impenetrable. Bending down to check the alignment of the weep hole, with a nod of satisfaction, he said, “Perfect! I don’t think I’ll need to adjust a thing.”

“Now” the smith said between heavy breaths as he righted himself onto the stool, “let’s free her and see if she can get to it.”

Nodding, I reached up and undid her hands while he released her feet. Instantly her hands went to her screaming crotch. She rubbed and pulled at the housing of her new prison, but to no avail. After just a few minutes she was on her knees, legs wide apart, head down in earnest concentration, sobbing as she tried every imaginable angle of entry – only to be denied in the end.

The smith took me into the other room to settle my account. We left her struggling, naked and alone to make peace with her new companion. As I paid him, we heard her sobbing in frustration. He just smiled, handed me a small bottle with a wink, and said, “Something for the girl.”

Once the sounds of her fussing stopped coming from the other room, I figured she’d made peace with the rage between her legs, and so I returned to claim her. She sat heaving, sweating against the wall with a look of resignation on her face. “Come on, Allison” I said. “It’s time to go home.” With a gentle but noticeable blow from her nostrils, she stood. I helped her dress then attached the cuffs to her ankles and wrists. Like the chastity belt, they fit perfectly. I then bound her hands behind her back, forcing her young titties alertly to the fore. Then taking a short chain, I hobbled her between her ankles. With her face awash with dried tears, bare-chested, locked in a snug, new chastity belt, capable of only the tiniest steps, and led on a leash; blushing, she made her way through town as we went home.