The following fiction is a collaboration between Myself and Herself -- a rather pushy bottom, "but adorable", she says.The following fiction is a collaboration between Myself and Herself -- a rather pushy bottom, "but adorable", she says. ------------------------ As She Likes It ---------------------- Part One The gag didn't hurt, exactly. But it held my face in ways that were strange to me. Sweat was rolling down my forehead, onto my breats and beading on my nipples as they were held unnaturally high in a black satin push-up bra. The bra was already soaked. I couldn't recall where the rest of my clothes were. I'd managed to retain my black silk panties and my too-high heels -- I suppose he liked how I looked in them. The bathroom was unusually large, even by Manhattan penthouse standards. It was brilliantly white, and mannish. The only softness I could sense was in the big white towels. I could only imagine their softness. I longed to dry the sweat from myself with one but that pleasure was denied me. If I stayed up on my toes with my face pressed against the bathroom door I could almost forget about the heavy leather collar locked around my neck. The handcuffs were another matter. He had cuffed my hands behind me, back to back, and I stupidly tried to twist my wrists against the steel. He had added a strap that ran from the links on the cuffs to the back of my collar. As long as I held my wrists in the middle of my back I could spare my self the pressure against my throat. Looking back on it now I realize that a unusual wave of sexual excitement passed through me for the first time. It intensified a few moments later when I managed to turn my head past the chain that ran from the collar to the heavy silver hook near the top of the door. I wasn't ready for what I saw in the mirror. The red haired woman I saw looked a lot like me, except she was trussed and humiliated -- teetering against a bathroom door in nothing but her underwear, her buttocks gleaming under the heatlamp. |