After Mistress left, it took Jen a while before she was confident enough in her body to attempt movement. She could feel herself trembling, even shivering slightly as she came down from her high, streams of sweat cooling her body, the cool air of the cellar running over her. Waves of pleasure still roamed through her body, looking for somewhere to break, and she knew she had to be careful with her movements, careful not to arouse herself and give herself release. Mistress wasn't there to see her, but Jen knew that she would know when she returned if Jen had taken forbidden pleasure, taken the release that wasn't allowed in this cellar.
She rose carefully from the chair, noting now just how precarious her position on it had been, how slim the cushions and bars that supported her had been, how much she'd relied on Mistress' bonds to keep her on it. She could see her sweat covering it, steadily dripping down to the floor below, reminding her of the flow she could feel between her legs. She walked in unsteady circles, her legs barely supporting her, still strained and exhausted from her ordeals before. The rest of her body had the same feeling - the muscles stretched and strained from her hoisting, the nerves still tingling from the pleasure Mistress had delivered in the chair. The combination of strain and delight mixed within her body, each reinforcing the other as she walked, trying to centre her mind and return herself to some semblance of normality.
She concentrated on her clothes, what little they were, feeling how closely they fitted her, how much a part of her they had become. She almost failed to register that she wore Mistress' collar now, the band of leather round her neck merely registering as thick skin to her senses, its touch, like Mistress, feeling part of her soul. The gauntlets around her arms were warm and tight, fitting her perfectly. When Mistress had bound them with rope and chains, it had felt to Jen as though the bonds were part of her arms, tied directly into her, her skin not slipping at all within the tight leather. The ankle cuffs were the same, snug against her skin, just an extension of her, letting her be bound to the hard stone below as though it was entirely natural.
She found that concentrating on that helped to control her, reminded of her subservient place beneath Mistress, that her body was merely Mistress' tool, nothing more. As she thought on this, she heard the noise from the door, the rough slide of the bolt, then a metallic echo as it was dragged open. Quickly, instinctively, she turned to face the door and dropped carefully to her knees, lowering her head and resting her hands in her lap as the door swung open. She heard Mistress walk towards and around her, then stand behind Jen.
'Sit up, my dear.' Jen stretched up slowly, feeling the back of her head touch Mistress' hands as she raised it. Before she knew what was happening, Mistress' hands moved quickly, around her face, Jen feeling something soft against her skin and then blackness as she went beneath the blindfold again.
'Now stand up.' Jen brought herself to her feet, carefully, gradually, manoeuvring herself by sense rather than sight, her strained body quivering slightly as she forced herself up, desperate to not slip and embarrass herself before Mistress. Soon she managed it, standing straight, sensing Mistress watching from behind her. As she stood there, Mistress moved around her, taking her hand and leading her silently across the room. As before, Jen's other senses heightened to compensate for her current blindness, hearing the slap of her feet against the bare stone, feeling its contours beneath her feet as she walked.
Mistress stopped her, twisting her around to face in a certain direction. 'Spread your legs for me, dear Jen, as far as they were before.' Jen followed the command, moving her feet steadily across the stone until she felt the iron rings in the floor against them. As her feet stopped, she sensed Mistress crouching, again binding her feet to the rings. She heard movement then, Mistress walking around the room, gathering things, positioning something in front of her, the sound of a rope being threaded through a ceiling ring before her. Mistress walked behind her and spoke.