The Box

Lesbian
2006-06-07

The Box-- by jessicablank
It started out as a room.
Cindy stood in the center of the room.   A tight, leather cuff encircled each wrist.   A tight, leather shackle encircled each ankle.   The chains dangled from the ceiling and the floor.   Holding her arms up, widespread, over her head.   Holding her legs far apart.
Cindy wasn't sure what else was in the room.   Constantly, she heard Linda's voice.   Commanding her to sleep.   Commanding her to obey.   Commanding her to watch the lights.   The pretty, flashing lights.   They sparkled.   Glittered.   Flashing colors.

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    Bright red and blue sparks, before a golden background.   Flashing, flashing, flashing.   Sleep.   Obey.   Bright green sparks and yellow, before a deep, crimson red.   Sleep.   Obey.   Sleep.   Obey.
The young blonde hung from the arm chains, her weight supported by them.   Her mouth slackly open.   Breathing so slowly.   Slowly.   Her sun-bronzed hips swayed with arousal.   Slowly to the left.

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    Gently to the right.   Feeling her wet pussy lips slip and slide over one another.   Feeling them pucker open when her hips thrust forward.
Sleep.   Obey.   Sleep.   Obey.   Cindy listened to Linda's voice.   Listened to her Mistress' voice.   The twin of her own voice -- if she could remember.   If Cindy could remember HOW to speak, any more.   All she could do was listen to Mistress' voice.   Sleep. . .

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   Obey. . .   Watch the flashing colored lights, and sway her hips.   Pussy so wet and dripping.   Watching the lights, projected on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor.   Everywhere she looked.   Flashing, flashing, flashing.   Sleep. . .   Obey. . .
Later, Cindy found herself in smaller and smaller enclosures.

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For a while, it was the bathroom.   Chained in the shower.   Linda liked that.   She watched her slave react to the recorded voice.   Sleep. . .   Obey. . .   Watched Cindy gaze mindlessly into the waterproof TV camera in the shower wall.   Watched the tall, slender, tanned body swaying back and forth.   Sometimes rising up out of trance just enough to try impaling her hairless cunt on the shower handles.   Then Linda would trail her fingers through Cindy's long hair, tugging gently on it, dragging her head back just a tiny bit.   That always forced Cindy down into a deeper level of trance.

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    Sleep. . . Obey. . .
The box in the dining room was originally of wood.   Not simple pine, but fine-grained walnut, a cabinetmaker's work of art.   Enclosing Cindy in darkness.   Confining her in a kneeling position for hours at a time.   Her only stimuli, the flashing, sparkling lights in the grilled opening at the front of the box.   And Linda's voice on the speakers, repeating, repeating, repeating.   Sleep. . .

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    Obey. . .
And the toys.
Sometimes, Linda would open a little door in the box, perhaps the one at the back, and through it she would push a long, thick dildo into Cindy's dripping cunt.   In. . . out. . . in. . . out.

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  . .   Twist.   One full turn around.   Then again in. . . out. . . in. . . out. .

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  .   Then Linda withdrew the dildo.   And closed the box.   Once again locked inside, Cindy watched the flashing lights, listened to the repeating hypnotic voice.   And pressed her hips back, trying to impale herself on a dildo that was no longer there.   Sleep. . . Obey. . .
Linda opened another door at the back of the box.   This one a little higher.   She dribbled warm oil into the crack of Cindy's round bottom.   Letting it trickle down the cleft of her ass.

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    Sometimes, Linda followed this with a butt plug -- or a long, tapered dildo -- spreading Cindy's anus open.    Slowly, irresistibly.   Farther in. . . and farther. . . and bigger. . .   Till Cindy's hips began to buck.   Till her knees and ankles spread wide, within the confines of the box, and her ass pushed against the back, trying to get more.   And Linda removed the dildo.   Closed the door.

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    Sleep. . .   Obey. . .   Sleep. . .   Obey. . .
Linda decided she wanted to see everything.
Money was no object.   Cindy and Linda, poor little rich girls, now in their twenties, had all the money they could ever need from Daddy's estate.

 

    Linda could afford to equip the Mediterranean beach house with any comfort they wanted, anything she needed to subjugate Cindy to deeper and deeper levels of mindless servitude.   Contorting Cindy's body into any configuration, programming her mind in any way Linda found interesting, entertaining, stimulating.
The clear, Lucite box rested on a little platform, about three feet off the floor, attached to a short pole in the middle of the dining room.   The centerpiece of attention, spot lights illuminating it from the ceiling.   It was tiny, for what it contained.   Three feet long, two feet wide, a foot and a half tall.   And what it contained. . . was Cindy.   Curled up with her arms at her sides, her legs tucked underneath, feet together, toes pointed down.   Compressed within the box.   Like a big question mark, squashed down a bit, with her toes just above where the dot would have been, directly over the pole.
So suggestible now, Cindy needed only a small, spinning crystal before her eyes.   She watched the crystal, as it reflected the beams from the spotlights in the ceiling.

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    So pretty.   Blue and red and green flashing into her eyes.   Tiny speaker buds in her ears received a wireless signal, and continually repeated Linda's voice, at a subliminal level.   Commanding her to sleep. . .   Commanding her to obey. . .
A click in the back of the box, the swiveling of a plastic door on its hinges, the gentle sound of plastic scraping against plastic -- and Cindy felt cool air between her legs, around her pussy.   Linda reached in and rolled the spiked wheel over Cindy's clit, digging the little points into the moist, tender flesh.   Sleep. . .   Obey.

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  . .   Cindy was now completely unable to move her limbs, but her hips pressed backward, and her dripping vulva opened like a flower to the stimulus.   Sleep. . .   Obey. . .   Her eyes hardly seemed to blink.   Watching the crystal.   Watching the flashes of color.   Watching the red, the blue, the green.
Linda withdrew the wheel and closed the door.   She set aside the toy and opened another door on the underside of the box.

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    Cindy's plump, hard nipples protruded underneath.   Linda lifted the two clamps and quickly clipped one on each nipple -- first the right, then the left.   Red and white wires led down from each nipple to an oblong, black box, with buttons and a little dial.   Linda twisted the dial to midrange, then pressed the button.   The shocks to Cindy's nipples caused her to grunt, wordlessly, and twitch inside the Lucite box.   Linda released the button, twisted the knob to full range, and pressed the button again.   Cindy squealed and jerked inside the plastic box, and her eyes went wide -- still staring at the crystal.   Sleep. . .   Obey. . .   Sleep. .

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  .   Obey. . .
Oh, sometimes Linda let Cindy out of the box.   After throwing a few latches, she could open the entire top and side, and ease Cindy out.   Slowly. . . careful not to strain Cindy's stiffened limbs, careful not to let her lose her balance and fall.   It took a half hour to get Cindy out.   And almost an hour to get her back in, positioning each limb so carefully, gradually squeezing her into place, mindful not to let Cindy's smooth skin get pinched when a panel was swiveled closed.   Sometimes Linda took her out for a shower, or a little walk along the beach.   Cindy never seemed to notice.   Her mind remained deep in trance.

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    Sleep. . . Obey. . .   Her body always on the edge of orgasm.   Linda enjoyed keeping her slave in the box, for days at a time.   She could even feed Cindy without removing her, one tiny bite at a time, and then a brush of Linda's finger against the slave's clit. . . then another bite. . .
*           *           *          *          *
Linda heard the doorbell and picked up the remote control from the coffee table, switching the TV to show the security camera view outside the locked gate.

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"Helloooo. . . " a voice sang.   "Is anybody home?"  A voice Linda hadn't heard in a couple of years, but a familiar one.
"Anita!" she replied through the intercom.   "How are you?  Let me buzz the gate open. "  Linda pressed another button and the mechanical hum and clack carried through the microphone.   While her old friend swung the gate open to enter, Linda set down the remote, made a few quick arrangements to the decor, and opened the front door.   Anita was only halfway up the long, wooden stairway that led up to the house, so Linda started walking down the steps to meet her.
"How are you, darling?" said Anita, as they stood on a weathered stair and hugged, kissing the air near each other's cheeks.

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  "It seems like forever since I saw you last!"
"Come on in," replied Linda.   "I'll put on a pot of tea and we can catch up!"
*           *           *          *          *
Anita took another bite of the chocolate biscotto, set it down, and ran her hand over the elaborate lace tablecloth.   "This is really beautiful work," she said.
"It was my grandmother's," Linda explained, holding up the teapot.

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    Anita nodded, and Linda refilled her cup.
"You seem to have kept a lot of the old things," Anita continued, then waving her hand at the big screen TV and other electronics around the house, "while going totally twenty-first century techno on everything else. "
"A creature of contrasts, that's me," Linda laughed.
Anita took a sip of her tea and looked up at Linda, pausing for a moment.   "What about Cindy?  I thought you two both lived here?"
"Oh, we DO. "  Linda picked up her tea cup for another sip.   "Cindy's out for a couple of days. "
"Too bad I missed her," Anita replied, swirling her cup in a gentle circle.   She watched the tea leaves settle at the bottom.   "Nobody sees you two much, any more. "
"We're down at the beach almost every other day. . . " Linda began, then paused.   "Oh, you mean of the OLD crowd.

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  . . "
"Ouch!" Anita said.   "You make me sound like an antique!"  She set her cup down.   "You and Cindy used to be such party animals. "  She laughed.   "RUTTING little party animals!"
"We're two little homebodies these days," Linda said, setting her cup down.
"We miss you," Anita said.   "I miss you.   Both of you. "  She leaned forward, folding her arms, elbows carefully just at the edge of the table.   "I really wish I could have caught you together. "
"Maybe another time," Linda said, folding her hands.
They looked at each other for a moment, not moving.
"Well," Anita said, "I guess I'd better get going.

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    Big party tonight, and I need time to get ready. "  She stood, setting the folded linen napkin next to the cup and saucer.   "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come?  I can bring a guest. "
"Ohhhhh," Linda demurred, also standing, "can't make it tonight.   I wish I could have. . . "
"Right," said Anita.   "I'm really sorry I missed Cindy. "
"I'll tell her you dropped by. . . "  Linda accompanied Anita as she walked toward the door.   The woman seemed in a hurry to leave.
"No need to see me out," Anita said.

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    "I can find my way down all those stairs. "  She reached toward Linda and gave her a brief hug, then pulled back.
"Are you okay?" Linda asked.
"I'm fine -- I just need to rush off. "  Anita shrugged and smiled.   "Even Cinderella's fairy godmother needed TIME to work a few miracles, before the ball!"
"Another time, then," Linda said.
"Another time.   'Bye!"  Anita gave a little wave and started down the stairs.
Linda watched her from the doorway, then went to retrieve the remote control.   She returned to the front of the house just as Anita reached the bottom step.   She buzzed open the gate and gave Anita a final wave as she walked through and pulled the gate shut.   Then Linda stepped back into the house and pushed the front door closed.
She wondered why Anita had really come to visit.
Especially that mention of "Cinderella. "  That's what Anita used to call them -- Cinderella and Linderella.

 

    Of course, they had both stopped waiting for Prince Charming years ago!
*         *         *          *
Linda took the teacups and saucers to the kitchen.   Then she lifted the big, floral centerpiece from the dining table and put it on the buffet shelf where it usually sat.   Finally, she removed the lace table cloth and padded cover, and carefully set them aside in the corner -- revealing the Lucite "table" that encapsulated Cindy.
"Miss me, honey?" Linda said.   She opened a cabinet and pulled out the big, black dildo again.   She flipped a latch, swiveled the panel open, and gazed at Cindy's wet pussy, dribbling juices almost constantly.   She slowly pushed the dildo between Cindy's labia. . .   Deeper. . .   Deeper. . .

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    All the way to the base, then Linda slowly began to draw it out. . .
"So, Cindy IS here, after all!"
Linda jerked upright, releasing her hold on the dildo, and turned to face the intruder.
"I walked back inside before I shut the gate," Anita explained.   "You really should be more careful about security, since you seem to value it so very highly!"  She smiled.   Linda saw that she was holding a gun.   "Now, what are you doing with my little Cindy?"
She waved the gun sideways, and Linda stepped backward, toward the living room, holding her hands up.
"That's right, back off nice and slow. "  Anita looked at the thick, black dildo, partially embedded in Cindy's cunt, and grabbed the base.   "Mmmm. . . THAT'S the Cindy I remember.   Always having such fun with her toys.

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  "  She slid the dildo out, admiring the slick, shiny coating of Cindy's juices.   Cindy moaned with pleasure, feeling the shaft slide out of her body.   "Ohhhh, yeah!"  Anita said, pushing the dildo back in.   Cindy pushed her ass back, trying to open herself even more, though she couldn't budge an inch.
Linda backed further into the living room, next to the couch and the coffee table, hands still high in the air.
"Hold it right there," Anita commanded.   "I don't want you calling the police or anything.   Just stand there, and stay still. "  She pulled the dildo out again, watching Cindy's ass flex inside the clear plastic box.   Again, she pushed the shaft inward, filling Cindy's pussy and making her moan again. "How long have you kept her like this?" she asked.   "You dirty bitch!  No wonder nobody ever sees the two of you, with her locked up like this, and you playing your little games!"  She slid the dildo out, and Cindy squealed, her hips wiggling inside the tight enclosure.
"Please. . .

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   stop. . . " Linda began.
"I want you to tell me how to unlock this thing, and let her out of here!" Linda demanded.   She pushed the thick, black phallus in again.   Cindy jerked and grunted.
"It's not locked," Linda replied.
"Not locked?"  Linda stroked the dildo out again.   Cindy began to moan, her voice almost sounding like she was singing.
"She likes being in there.   It was her choice!"
Anita pushed the dildo into Cindy's wet slit again.
Fifth time.   Cindy's trigger.   She had been conditioned to orgasm on the fifth consecutive stroke.

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    And Linda had been teasing her for days!  Two strokes, and stop.   Four strokes, and then rolling the spiked wheel over Cindy's clit.   Always on the edge, never quite there, never quite that final slide of rubber inside aching flesh!  And now, within seconds, Anita had thrust the rubber cock inside her, one, two, three, four. . . and FIVE!
Inside the box, Cindy shook and moaned, making the Lucite enclosure wobble, squealing in ecstasy, squashing her ass cheeks back against the walls of the box, trying to impale herself deeper on the thick rubber dildo.
Anita stared at the box, the gun lowered, forgotten -- distracted for a moment -- as she watched Cindy cum and cum and cum, thrashing around inside, moaning and squealing, crying with release.
And in that moment, Linda grabbed the remote off the table and pressed a button.
"Put that down!" Anita commanded, swinging the gun back upward.
Linda set the remote back on the coffee table.
"Come over here," Anita waved the gun toward the box, where Cindy's spasms were lessening, her cries of ecstasy becoming quieter.   "Open this up and let her out. "
Linda walked over to the box, mindful every moment of the gun pointed at her.   She undid the latches at the side of the box, and at the ends.   Then she pulled the side downward on its hinges, and swiveled the top upward.

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    The box resembled a small, transparent grand piano, its top lifted for maximum volume.   Linda started to pull on Cindy's arms, feeling her muscles still twitching, shivering.
Anita continued to hold the gun, but her eyes were fluttering.   She was finding it very hard to keep them open.   Very hard to think what she next wanted to demand.   What order she wanted to give Linda.   She wanted to sit down.   She wanted to lie down.   Eyes wanted to close.   She just wanted to do what she was told, and not think.   Just sit down.   Close her eyes.   Go to sleep.
Of course Anita didn't know -- couldn't know -- about the subliminal sounds, playing through speakers set in every room in the house.   "Sleep.

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  . . Obey. . . "  Just under the threshold of conscious hearing.   Their timing was staggered, one room to the next, so they seemed to echo.   "Sleep (sleep, sleep, sleep). . . Obey (obey, obey, obey). . . "  Linda's first try at programming Cindy, twenty-four hours a day.   Until she set up the wireless ear buds.

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    Even though it was her own voice, Linda was feeling sleepy, too.   But she knew what was happening.   After all, she was the one who had pressed the button on the remote.   The remote that seemed so far away.   "Sleep (sleep. . . sleep. . . sleeeeeeep). . .   Obey (ohhhhhhhbey. .

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  . obey. . .   obeeeeeyyyy. . . )"
Anita's gun still pointed at her, Linda gently eased Cindy out of the box, while Anita quietly sat down on the floor, legs crossed.   She was trying so hard to keep her eyes open.   The gun drifted to one side, and her eyes gradually closed.   She shook her head, forcing them open, pointing the gun again.   Trying to remember which woman was Cinda, and which one was Lindy, they looked so much alike.   Anita blinked slowly, smiling at her mistake, almost giggling.   The gun drifted lower. .

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  . lower. . .   So heavy.   So hard to hold it up high.   So very high.   Better to hold it lower.   That was easier.   Even lower.   So hard to lift her gun, and point her eyes.   Waiting for someone to tell her what to do.   Anita's eyes closed.   The gun dropped out of her hand, and her jaw fell open, exposing her pink tongue.   She seemed to wave back and forth, in rhythm with a barely-heard song.

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    "Sleep-eep-eep. . .   Obey-ey-ey-ey. . . "
Linda guided Cindy into a standing position and tapped her forehead, then the right cheek, then the left cheek, and finally kissed her lips. . . so gently, so affectionately.
Cindy opened her eyes, smiled, and said, "Hello, gorgeous!"
*         *         *          *
Anita awoke to find herself on the floor, in a kneeling position, her legs spread wide.   It would have been incorrect to describe her as naked, even though all her clothes had been removed.   Each leg was bound separately -- shiny, silver duct tape wrapped around and around from her knee up to her crotch, holding the lower leg tightly against the upper leg.   All she COULD do was kneel.   Her arms were bound behind her, elbows straight, both arms wrapped from wrist to shoulder with more and more yards of duct tape.

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    The posture thrust her bare breasts forward, as if offering them to be squeezed and sucked.   Another strip of tape covered her mouth.   Immobilized, helpless, silent, Anita opened her eyes and looked up at the two identical women sitting on the couch, clothed in light summer dresses, both sipping tea.
The woman on the left had her dress hiked up to her waist, showing off her smooth, tanned legs, and the fact that she wasn't wearing any panties.   The woman on the right had stretched one leg out across the couch, her foot firmly placed against the other woman's hairless pussy.   Her toes flexed and curled, teasing the ring that had been pierced through the exposed clit.   Flipping it up. . . and down. . . up. . .

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   and down. . .   The woman on the left was making the tiniest rocking motion with her hips, her eyes drifting closed with every wiggle of the toes between her legs.
Anita knew them well.   She recognized the tiny differences between the twins.   She knew the woman on the left was Cindy, the one on the right was Linda.
"I haven't seen you in sooooo long," Cindy said.   Anita's body jerked with her surprise to hear Cindy speak.   She was so certain Linda had brainwashed her somehow.   Of course, she was right about that fact -- but not the reason behind it.
"You seemed to be under the impression that Cindy needed to be rescued," Linda began.   Cindy giggled, and spread her legs wider, pushing her pussy onto Linda's toes, getting them wet with her juices.   "Of course, I needed to make sure you didn't hurt anybody. "  Linda reached down beside her and lifted Anita's gun.

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    She shifted it to her other hand, pointing it up at the ceiling.   She reached down again, and held up the clip, now carefully separated from the gun.   "Nasty things," Linda said, wiggling the two shiny metal objects.   "The effects of a split-second decision can be so. . . permanent!"  She set the gun and clip down on the table.
Cindy started to make little grunting noises, pumping onto Linda's toes.   Linda withdrew her leg, causing Cindy to say, "Awwwww. . . "  Linda stared into Cindy's eyes and tilted her head, nodding, in a way her twin instantly understood.   Cindy pressed her legs together and resumed rocking, more quietly now.
Linda turned back to Anita and leaned forward, her elbows on her sun-browned knees.   "Cindy and I have an arrangement.

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    I am her mistress, and she is my slave. "
"Only until the end of the year," Cindy exclaimed.   "Then we switch. "
Linda smiled a secret smile, then continued.   "You interrupted our fun.   Cindy was soooo disappointed.   You need to make it up to her!  And I realized that we need to make it crystal clear to you. . . that Cindy's desire to remain here is genuine. "  Linda shifted forward, moving closer to the tape-bound woman.   "So we were thinking. . . it might be amusing, if Cindy had someone else to control for a while.

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  "  She reached out, lifting up Anita's chin.   "What do you think, 'Nita?  Would you like to stay for a week, as Cindy's sex slave?"
"A fortnight!" Cindy exclaimed.   Linda glared briefly at her with disapproval.   "Awwww, c'mon, Lin!"
"Two weeks, then," Linda offered, looking back into Anita's eyes.   "Unless you're not interested. . . or busy. . . You seem to be all tied up. "  She grinned, lopsidedly.   "You wanted to see Cindy again.   So what do you say?  Wanna play, for two weeks?"
Anita looked up at Linda, her least favorite twin.   There always seems to be one that's a leader, and the other twin follows.

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    Linda impressed her as being tricky somehow, always something up her sleeve.   The wicked stepmother to Cindy's Cinderella.   But it WAS a chance to spend time with Cindy again.   Sexy, slutty Cindy.   She looked up at Cindy, then Linda, and nodded her head.
"Oh, goody!" Cindy cried, standing up and clapping her hands like a little girl.   She opened a drawer in the end table and pulled out something.   A leash, with a dog collar.   Cindy strode forward and crouched in front of Anita.   She deftly looped the collar around her neck, buckled it in place, and stood up, holding the leash.   "Now, 'Nita girl, time to start your training!"  Cindy giggled.   "Follow me!"
Anita couldn't think how to move, even to crawl after Cindy, with her legs bound up and her arms tied behind her.
"Ohhhh," said Linda, "you can move!  All you need to do is lean forward. . .

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   and walk on your knees. "  Her eyes took on a wicked look.   "And if you lose your balance. . . " she looked up at her twin, "well, it's up to Cindy.   Whether to let you try to stand on your knees again, or make you crawl like that on your belly!"  She leaned closer to Anita's ear and whispered, "Take my advice. . . DON'T lose your balance!"
Cindy jerked the leash, almost forcing Anita to fall over before she had moved. "C'mon, 'Nita slave!  I want to lock you up someplace nice and tight!"
"She's untrained," Linda cautioned, as Anita struggled to her knees, wobbling.   "She won't fit in the box. "  She grinned.   "Not right away, anyhow!"
Cindy watched her new slave swing her left knee a few inches forward, the carpet abrading the delicate skin of her leg.   Then she wobbled again, swinging the right knee forward, a little higher.

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    It landed on the floor with a thump that hurt, and jarred Anita's body all the way to her head.   "That's okay," Cindy replied.   "I'm sure she'll fit in the shower stall. "  She looked up at Linda, the wickedness in her eyes a reflection of her twin's.   "Turn on the remote, and you can watch on the TV. "
Anita swung her left knee forward, tears forming in her eyes from the effort, the pain, the humiliation.   What HAD she gotten herself into?  She could feel the leash tugging on her neck, threatening to pull her too far forward, threatening to make her fall.
Cindy stopped tugging, then crouched down in front of Anita, changing her hold on the leash, grasping it just a few inches from the bound woman's face.   She spoke softly. . . but there was an edge in her voice that made Anita feel like she might lose control of her bladder.   "If you're REALLY good. . .

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   I might ask Linda to let you stay longer. . .   Maybe a month. . . "
Anita felt Cindy's fingers caressing between her legs, one long, slim digit stroking gently along the cleft of her pussy, up to her clit, and stopping there, possessively, unmoving but pressing gently against the fleshy button.   She gazed up into Cindy's eyes, and found herself moaning through the tape.
Cindy smiled, stood up, and tugged gently on the leash.   Walking slowly toward the bathroom, hips swaying, the summer dress swishing back and forth.   Listening to the thump. . . thump. .

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  . of her slave's knees behind her.   Her very own slave's sore, aching knees.
They were going to have such fun!
*          *          *          *          *         *
Read more free stories by jessicablank and MzDominica's other slaves athttp://www. mzdominica. com/blog/
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