The plate wobbled, tottering on the edge as the shelf shook, the stack of expensive-looking crockery starting to shift. Hannah threw herself forward, flailing at the topmost plate with a mittened hand, pushing herself forward and wedging herself beneath the shelf. Metal creaked to her side, a sudden terrifying "crack" sound as the supporting bracket gave way. The shelf lurched, plates scraping against the wood, sliding close to the edge.
She braced her back, hunching herself over at an awkward and uncomfortable angle, trying to support the shelf with her body. If any of the plates were broken, then Miss Coerator would probably punish her! It was uncomfortable, the wood heavy and prickly against her bare back.
Time ticked by. There were no clocks, no way for her to tell how long she had maintained this position for, sweat starting to tease and trickle over her body. At least the vibrator currently inside of her seemed to be passive! She carefully moved one hand, hearing the scrape of plate-on-plate until it slid onto the stack. The weight and pressure were poorly distributed, one shoulder having to bear most of the strain, quickly growing tired. She grimaced at the camera, the light showing it was on - for all the time Miss Coerator had been teasing and buzzing her, why couldn't she be watching when she actually needed help!
And of course, the fat red ball in her mouth meant she couldn't call for help or do anything other than make muffled and wet mumbling noises. She shifted slightly, trying to make the position more comfortable, the plates above her starting to move, the grating, sliding sound swiftly accelerating. She moved back to her earlier position, the sounds stopping, everything going silent except for her breathing. The corset was tight around her waist and stomach, the edges poking into her uncomfortably, further straining her breathing.
Where was Miss Coerator? It felt as though she'd been in this position for hours, her arms aching from the strain, the other bracket starting to warp and creak from the extra weight. One of her legs started to shake from the strain, the plates beginning to slide again, before she managed to alter her position to arrest their movement, at least briefly.
The lock clicked, the door opening and Miss Coerator stepping in, Hannah glad to see her for once. She grunted from behind her gag, trying to express urgency and a need to be helped.
Miss Coerator quickly stepped close, reaching out and moving the largest stack of plates to safety, then the next and the next, until the shelf was clear. Only then did Hannah let herself relax, the shelf tilting, sliding to the floor as the other bracket gave way. Miss Coerator approached Hannah and gave her a kiss on the forehead. 'You are a clever little thing, aren't you, my dear? Excellent work, I would have been most upset with you if the plates had been broken. Good girl!' She smiled at Hannah, giving her a pat on the head. 'I suppose it's scarcely worth doing much more work in here.' The shelf had pulled away from the wall entirely, exposing a chunk of raw plaster and brick. 'For that, I suppose you deserve a treat. Cook has been busy, so I think some nice food, hot and fresh. One of the advantages of being all the way out here is the easy access to ingredients, I suppose. And I should introduce the two of you, as it seems you may be here for a while. Collar up.'
Hannah tilted her neck back, submitting herself to the leash again. She wanted nothing more than to overpower Miss Coerator and release her bindings, but with her hands bound, she would lose any confrontation, and doubtless face harsh punishment, if not permanent exile to the dungeon. So she let herself be led away, Miss Coerator locking the door behind them.
'Watch yourself on the stairs, my dear, they are rather steep. Although you are adjusting well to the heels - I shall have to exchange them for higher ones.'
Hannah managed to stop herself from making a grunt of denial through her gag. They were already staggeringly high, any higher and she'd be walking on tiptoe! Her calves felt like they were on fire whenever she stopped moving, thanks to having to keep her legs tense all the time.
The leash was only short, forcing Hannah to follow closely behind Miss Coerator. Today she was wearing a red blouse, sheer enough that Hannah could just about see a black bra-strap through it, and a black leather skirt, tightly outlining her buttocks. Her scent was strong and vivid, starkly distinct from the general odor of dust in the rest of the house. 'Down here.'
They turned down a tight spiral staircase, that would have been a challenge normally. As it was, Miss Coerator had to support her, letting Hannah lean on one shoulder to make it around the tight curves and narrow steps. 'If you dribble on me, I will be upset, so do kindly show some self-control.'
Hannah kept trying to swallow, tilting her head to stop dribble welling up around her gag, managing to keep herself from dripping as they wound their way downwards. The area of the house they entered looked... not modern exactly, but at least refurbished sometime in the last fifty years, with institutional-green paint flaking from the walls, exposed pipework running along at head-height.
'This used to be the servant's quarters. Now there are so few of you, it is mostly empty, but the kitchens are still here, and would be troublesome to move. I do have plans for the space, but the main house comes first. Once you, my dear, have done your part, of course.'
They came to an open door, with several crates of fresh vegetables stacked up outside, very fresh to judge from the dirt still on them. Sounds of chopping and cutting, along with soft metal clanks, could be heard from inside, as Miss Coerator pulled Hannah forward into the kitchen.
It was an old-fashioned kitchen, with a large metal stove putting out an impressive amount of heat, pots and pans hanging from the walls, along with a fearsome array of knives, peelers and other items of kitchenware. Next to the stove was a woman, currently stirring a pot of broth, the steam richly scented with herbs, potent enough to overpower even Miss Coerator's scent. In the center of the room was a large wooden table, covered with more bowls, chopped herbs, frying pans, as well as all the required ingredients for a full English breakfast, making Hannah's mouth water.
Like Hannah, the cook was also restrained, although far more strictly. A heavy metal collar was clamped around her neck, a chain running from there up to the ceiling. It connected to a track, four lines running out from a point in the center of the ceiling, clearly showing the range of the cook's movement while the collar was in place.
She was also wearing a special outfit, although hers was shiny latex, the top white, with full sleeves coming down her arms, hands also sheathed, although at least she was allowed her fingers free, Hannah noted with a tinge of jealousy. From behind, she showed a clear hourglass figure, a corset compressing her waist. Her skirt was knee-length latex, tight enough that Hannah could just about make out the lines of a chastity belt beneath it. She was also wearing heels, securely locked onto her legs, although not as high as Hannah's were - Hannah wasn't sure if she was proud of being able to manage in them, or annoyed that another servant was allowed to wear more comfortable footwear.
Miss Coerator clicked her fingers, the cook turning around, chain clinking as she did so. Her face was distorted by a gag, a circular metal panel over her face, engraved with thorns and a name: "Janet". The panel was partially open, a narrow, black slot allowing access to her mouth.
'Janet has been here long enough to earn, as you can see, her own personal gag.' Hannah tried, not entirely successfully, to suppress the pang of jealousy she felt. 'As she needs to taste-test what she prepares, I allow her to have some access to her mouth. And she is always very appreciative of being given a treat.' Miss Coerator produced a boiled sweet from her purse, placing it on her palm.
