A Hand Overplayed Ch. 02

Reaching back into his bag, Lance extracted a long metal chain that was immensely thick and several feet long, on the end of it sat a small section that could be pressed in while a piece of metal on the adjacent side allowed the opening to be locked if need be. Lance pressed in and placed the section through the hoop on Brittany's collar, clipping it on he turned the stainless steel cylinder until it covered the part that clipped, locking the chain into place.

Brittany couldn't believe what was happening, she had always heard stories about men who put women in chains or collars, and of course everyone had seen 50 Shades of Grey, but she scoffed at the notion of it ever happening to herself. As a matter of fact, she had never even took part in a sexual act where she didn't feel like the one with power, even during her "kinkier" moments in bed she was the one who made the demands. A request to be choked here, or a slap on her ass there, but always at her instruction. The idea that someone could take that power away from her had never entered her mind, her thoughts swelled with emotions that made the feelings of pleasure so far down seem but mere cinders in a burning campfire. Ever present but so far removed from the intense part of the flame they could not be noticed as of yet.

"Now I want you to listen carefully" Lance instructed looking deep into the emerald jewels of Brittany's eyes, "I'm going to unlock the stockade on your neck, then I will allow you to stand up and stretch for 5 seconds before you will sit back down, is that understood whore?" Brittany nodded in agreement as she replied.

"Yes I underst..." without warning her answer was interrupted by the sharp pain of an electrical current just to the right of her belly button. A jarring scream expelled from her throat followed by violent contractions of her ab muscles as her heavy breaths hastened. "What was the first fucking rule, whore!?" a bellowing Lance fired back, his tone causing the hair on her neck to stand up. Brittany's once so expertly brushed face was now a mess of tears, sweat, snot, and drool. To have seen her posing in her bathroom mirror the evening prior one would hardly believe it was the same woman. Desperate for it all to end Brittany nodded in compliance before her delicate voice stated her response, "Yess Sssirr, I understand".

Lance nodded in satisfaction that she had learned her lesson, before moving on he reached into his bag and picked out a white cloth towel, using it to wipe the collection of body fluids and makeup from his captive's face. The results cleaned up most to the mess but resulted in some spots left behind as well as smearing the remains of her ruby red lipstick, Lance stopped short of cleaning her up further as he found the mildly trashed look suitably ironic for such a superficial individual. Brittany sat frozen, awaited his next move with baited breath.

Lance reached up to the edges of the stockade and fidgeted with the ebony tinted iron latches that were holding the wood in place, with a twist of his finger Brittany felt the boards pop open and the sensations of confinement in her wrists finally fade. She lowered her arms and immediately felt an ocean of relief in her sore muscles, with no time to waste, she stood up and began moving her limbs about for them to enjoy their newfound freedom. Lance began counting aloud intently, "One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi..." not wanting to allow his count to hit five Brittany quickly sat back down on the bench. Staring straight down the metal length of the chain as it led back to Lance's hand, making the way he stood over her all the more imposing.

In Lance's other hand was a thigh length boot made of black leather, Brittany did not recognize the type, it had intricate woven laces along the front covering a zipper with a padlock rigged through them in a manner that were it closed the boot could not be taken off. The heels were incredibly large, as large as they could probably be made Brittany guessed, with toes that seemed to point straight down walking in such a thing seemed impossible. Lance casually tossed the boot toward her while maintaining his hold on her leash with the other hand, "put this on" he commanded. Brittany reached down and grasped the piece of footwear, opening the top up for access she placed her foot in and pushed it through, when her heel planted firmly against the bottom she adjusted the rest of the boot to fit. Squeezing her foot into the pointed section was a chore indeed, although it had fit much more comfortably than she imagined it would that didn't change the discomfort of having her ankle and foot contorted in such a fashion. As she laced up the boot, she found herself having an even greater degree of difficulty setting her foot down comfortably. Lance tossed the second boot in front of her without saying a word, the implications clear, Brittany took it in her hand and followed the same steps she had for the other. By the time both boots covered her legs Brittany could find no position to sit them that would relieve her calves, ankles, and feet causing her to fidget her lower body terribly. Lance gently tossed the open padlocks so they landed in front of her.

"Now lock them on, whore." he decreed. Brittany, whose legs returned to trembling due to the awkward way her feet sat, picked them up and looped them through the intended spots on the pair of boots. A sharp clasp radiated through the room as she closed them, sealing her legs inside of their new prison.

Lance tightened his grip on the metal chain that functioned as her leash, walking over toward her he seemed to pull the chain tighter with each step. By the time he stood above Brittany there was almost no slack in it, forcing her gaze up to him as she meekly blinked her eyes like a scared doe. "Now get down on your knees, whore." he spat in flat, uncompromising tone. Brittany took a deep breath as feelings of disgrace took hold of her, being forced to crawl on the floor like some animal, could this really be happening? The sight of the electro wand nestled into a holster device that sat on Lance's belt snapped her out of her thought process, shaking due to fear and her continued inability to find a comfortable position for her legs she slumped down to the floor in front of him and sat on her knees. Finding that if she wanted to avoid the locks pressing into her shins she was required to keep her thighs slightly spread, leaving her loins fully exposed. Lance looked down upon his prize and spoke.

"I've decided to start your stay here walking will be restricted from you, you see upright walking is reserved for people who enrich society, parasites like you crawl around on the ground where you belong" a shell shocked Brittany stared with bloodshot eyes and quivering lips as he spoke. His words cut deep, for the first time she began to question to herself if the lifestyle she had chosen was partly responsible for her finding herself here. Wondering if his orders had even been heard Lance abruptly barked, "is that clear whore?".

Looking up to him Brittany stammered, "Y...Yes sir, it's clear" the will all but gone from her voice. A smiling Lace looked down and replied, "good, so repeat it", Brittany couldn't believe what she was hearing. He actually wanted her to repeat that? She could barely imagine such a humiliating statement about herself, much less say it allowed, her heart rate quickening back to its prior heights she wiped her dry tongue against her lips before taking a deep breath to respond.

"I don't walk, walking is for people who make society better and...and i'm a parasite who deserves to crawl on the ground..." she finished hardly able to withstand the current of shame piling onto her. This had been the most humiliating ordeal of her life, she had never in her wildest nightmares imagined she'd feel such embarrassment.

"At least your ears work as well as your lying mouth" Lance chastised, yanking on the chain he pulled her toward him, Brittany crawled along the soft carpet as she had been commanded. The positioning along the floor having been the closest her legs came to relief since the boots had went on. Lance led her over to one of the cages tucked into the far end of the room, the tug of her leash aiming her head forward and unable to glance at much else. When they arrived Brittany shuddered to think of the inevitable, when he said "new home" this had clearly been what he meant.

The floor of the cage appeared to be covered in a soft leather, overall it stood about four feet in height leaving no room for someone to stand, a small pillow sat inside of it. Lance reached up and unlatched the door, opening the entrance. "Inside, whore, this is where you will be staying for the foreseeable future" Brittany stared in horror at his command. A cage? A fucking cage. She couldn't even process the thought, but with her exhausted body and broken spirit she could do little to resist. Ducking down through the entrance, Brittany crawled into the cage as told. Her leash began to follow inside before Lance looped it through one of the many large holes that composed the structure, and feed it back out. Taking the last few lengths he tied it to a metal post that sat outside the cage before producing a new lock and placing it on the latch of the cage door. With a metallic snap Brittany was sealed in, closing her eyes as that very new reality dawned on her.

Lance walked over to a section of the wall a few yards away and pressed it, the panel dispensed back and slid to the side revealing a hidden doorway. Lance looked over at his hopelessly bound plaything. "I would get some rest if I were you, you have a long night of training coming up" his exhausted victim only able to respond with a pathetic sigh, smiling Lance ascended through the doorway and out of sight before it closed up and slid back into place.

Brittany slumped down in her cage sobbing, too many emotions going through her to process them all individually, eventually her cries faded as she drifted off into sleep from her exhaustion, the last thoughts on her mind pondering what Lance had planned for her later that evening.