This is a work of fantasy and does not attempt to accurately portray queer or BDSM relationships, it is meant for harmless smutty fun. The author does not condone nonconsensual activities of any kind. Please read with caution regarding your individual triggers.
Ellie was laying on top of the softest sheets she had ever felt in her life. With her eyes still closed she stroked the soft cotton with the back of her left hand delighting in the smoothness of the fabric, her body and sensations waking before her brain. It was as if she had been sleeping for days, and she had needed it too. Ellie worked at least ten hours a day at the office, commuting daily from Queens to Manhattan taking years off of her life, and ultimately she still had to log in when she got home most days leaving her burnt out, exhausted, and being paid less than half of what she was worth. It would be such a nice change of pace to see her friend from college again when they came up for the weekend. Go out to a show, retell the same old stories, forget about work, maybe even-
Ellie's heartbeat quickened. She had been going out to meet her friend at Penn Station. She had taken the train to Manhattan, exited to the street, and then, from God knows where, she had been grabbed. Strong arms pulled her down, a cloth clamped over her mouth, her eyes bugged out while her screams for help were muffled. She remembered the loud slam of car doors as she was pulled into a vehicle, her ability to scream slept with her consciousness, and everything had drifted into darkness.
Ellie tried to sit up in a shock, but her arms jerked, staying in place, punctuated by the sound of metallic chain link clangs as she tried to bring them to her sides. Looking frantically up at them, Ellie could see and feel her wrists clamped inside of thick metal bracelets, each attached to a long metal chain that stretched beyond the bed's ornate headboard to some unseen and unbudging tethering points in the wall. Trying to move her legs proved that they too were restrained with her ankles tied together and tethered to something just out of her sight at the foot of the bed. Her body had been forced into a perpetual 'Y' formation without any ability for the following 'M' 'C' or 'A'. Oddly comforting amidst the quickly dawning panic, was the realization that she was still wearing clothes. The same spring dress, black nylons, and blue converse shoes that she had been wearing on her way to meet her friend.
When she had been kidnapped.
Okay, maybe not being stripped naked was a low bar to clear. Ellie was still panicking.
Ellie's brain raced to lucidity, her eyes now shocked with adrenaline taking in every clue they could. This wasn't her room, obviously. Her miniscule Queens apartment with its flimsy Ikea nightstand, lumpy mattress, and barely-lit-by-fairy-lights room was nothing like this expansive space she was in now. A chandelier hanging above her branched out in a flower pattern, an ornately carved nightstand with drawers made out of a dark wood, maybe mahogany, sat to her side, and the mattress she laid on was clearly one of those expensive types that adjusted to your body so that it was never too soft or too hard. In fact, Ellie's back didn't hurt after waking up, maybe for the first time in years.
Ellie pulled with her arms as hard as she could but barely had enough slack to make a shock to the chain, it was fruitless, mostly just making that same clattering of individual metal links tinkling against each other. She tried to pull with her legs, wiggling her feet, that restraint was only rope as far as she could tell, but it was looped around her ankles over and over and was of a thick, strong cord and she only managed to make the bed frame groan and the mattress squeak with her struggling. Ellie started to panic. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, taste the cold air in her hyperventilation, see the room with its perfect clarity turn to a harried blur of every single true crime podcast, late night documentary, and terrible news headline she had ever seen in her life.
Then there was a sound. A voice. Ellie froze. It came from somewhere beneath her. Was she on the second floor of whatever building this was? There was an exchange, something quick and muffled through the floorboards, and then footsteps. They started as faraway beats and quickly became louder, closer, rising from below. They were stairs, certainly, and turning from the vague stomp of a step to the clear click of a shoe as the noise came right up to the other side of the door of whatever gaudy bedroom this was, pausing before entering. Right on the other side of the door.
This was it. Rape. Murder. Some horrible man who never spoke to women enough when he was younger and now he took out his frustrating inability to get a date by preying on vulnerable women new to the big city. An incel, a coward, a miscreant. The kind of man that was the reason that she never went out at night without company.
"You won't-" Ellie croaked, her throat was dry but she knew she needed to give at least a show of a fight, "you won't get away with this!" Her normally deep voice came out hoarse and nervously high pitched, it was pathetic. "I have a job! I was meeting a friend. People will know that I'm missing, and you'll- you'll be tried! And thrown in jail! And-"
The doorknob jiggled. It clicked, turned, and the door opened, just a crack.
Ellie's words froze in her mouth. Her throat seized up. She could feel her eyes watering. So much for putting up a fight. She would be killed right here and now, wouldn't she? She would never see her parents again, never get that promotion, never get to ask out any of the cute girls or guys in the office. This was her fate instead, to be taken by some horrible man who believed that women owed-
"Ellie?" Asked a calm, deep and sultry female voice. "Ellie, don't say such awful things." The door pushed open, and a striking face, and body, strode into the room. The woman's black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, no nonsense eyeliner painted her penetrating brown eyes, and a thin tasteful gold chain necklace close to her neck. She paused, hands on hips, looking down directly at the restrained woman on the bed before her. "I've taken care of everything, Ellie darling. You don't have to be so concerned."
The woman walked forward with purpose. She looked young, close enough to Ellie's own age, but was dressed like the C-suite employees that Ellie ran around all day trying to please, the kind of women that Ellie fantasized about in those early sexuality-questioning days after watching
Mr. and Mrs. Smith
. This woman wore a silky white blouse, a few of the top buttons undone giving Ellie just a glimpse at a lacy black bra. Her light brown skin was darkened by leggings poking out from underneath a black skirt, her legs coming to a point in black heeled calf boots. Ellie guessed that she was small, maybe even a full head shorter than Ellie, but it was hard to tell with the woman's heels and Ellie judging the height from the angle of being tied down to a bed.
She was, seemingly,
not
a hulking incel with a vendetta against women.
Ellie was so caught off guard she tried to sit up again, only to be pulled back again by her bondage. "Wha- who?"
The woman held up her palm in a stop signal. "I understand that you've been under a lot of stress lately. That your work," the woman's mouth flicked with distaste, "that your work and your slumlord of a building owner have made life difficult on you lately." She exhaled through her nose. "But it's okay, it's okay now. I forgive you for not trusting me. I'm sure this is a shock, but none of that, your old life, matters anymore." She walked towards the bed. "I'm here. We're here, together." The woman's boots clicked against the hardwood floor as she came to Ellie's bedside. Her eyes were brown, and her smile was- sincere? She reached towards Ellie's face.
Ellie flinched, tensing her arms and legs against the restraints, trying to pull away from the stranger's hand. Images flashed through her mind of all the ways that someone tied to a bed could be touched and tortured.
The woman paused, her lips pulled together tersely. "Ellie. Let me take care of you." She reached out again, and Ellie saw the hand descend on her in slow motion, imagining its possibilities.
"No!" Ellie recoiled into her pillow, and saw the insanity flare in the woman's eyes. "Wait, I mean... go slowly. Please?" The woman stopped, and the cold determination, the raw... something in her eyes subsided. Whatever deranged fantasy this girl was living in, Ellie needed to play into it. She took as deep a breath as she could to slow her pounding heart, and managed a very nervous smile. "I'm... tired. Stressed, right? Why don't you just... why don't we just talk for a little bit? Maybe tell me more about what's happening? Please?"
The woman sighed, blowing minty air into Ellie's face. She combed some locks of her hair out of her face, and then smiled widely, Ellie couldn't tell if it was forced or not. "Yes. Of course. We can go as slowly as you need, Love." Then, faster than Ellie could react to, the woman leaned down and pecked Ellie's soft lips with her own.
Ellie, stunned, felt the fluffy phantom remains of the kiss while the woman reached over and behind Ellie and pressed something against the wall behind the bedrest, giving Ellie a direct and close-up view of the woman's ornate black bra and shapely white blouse.
"Montgomery?" The woman said, speaking into a call box. "Would you be a dear and bring up a chair for me?" The woman's eyes flicked down to Ellie for a moment, and then she clicked the button again. "And bring the collar too."
Collar?
Ellie swallowed. The woman was looking down at her now, her just-kissed lips slightly parted, and her eyes were far away while looking down directly at Ellie's open body, that raw gaze Ellie had sensed before returning. The woman's hand drifted down from whatever intercom she had been using on the wall to the soft flesh of Ellie's exposed and restrained right hand. She touched the back of Ellie's hand, and with her index finger swirled over her skin in a small circle before tracing the metal cuff around her wrist and trailing the fingers slowly down the underside of Ellie's arm. The motion sent shivers up Ellie's spine, doing more than just tickling, and Ellie could feel herself get warmer and her cheeks turn redder as the fingers got closer and closer to-
"Please." Ellie said with a great deal of restraint, the touch felt good, but she needed to keep her head in the game. "Just... just talk for now."
The woman smiled, and after a pause, pulled back her hand. "You're right, there will be plenty of time for that later." The door opened again, and the woman looked over to it. Ellie exhaled. She couldn't let her emotions get the best of her. She needed to stay sharp if she wanted to figure this out, if she wanted to make it through this.
Walking through the open door was the walking stereotype of a Victorian butler. His white liver-spotted skin drooped down from his face in jowls, he squinted behind thick glasses, and he wore a neat and tidy black and white waistcoat down to even the white gloves. Ellie's first thought, that this man might join in on her torture, was quickly replaced by her more hopeful second thought, maybe he could help her, but both were quickly dashed away when he refused to even acknowledge Ellie's existence. He didn't so much as glance at the young woman tied to a bed being loomed over by a Hollywood level model of a woman. He walked up to the bed and handed the woman a smooth wooden box just under a square foot in size, only saying the words: "Your Ladyship."
"Thank you Montgomery." The woman said, taking the box and letting Montgomery scurry back out. Ellie eyed the box, the word
collar
