Mia unlocks the cell door. A languishing Jasmine stirs, once again her plumped body slowly struggling to dismount the low stool and crawl forth. Mia beckons in holding up the oddly shaped boots. Jasmine knows she is to be walked.
“She’s a little sluggish after a nice long milking. She expressed nicely for me,” Mia explaining the lassitude. “Depletes much energy... letting down in abundance. But she’ll perk up for you.”
Out the cell door, Jasmine moves to Mia, the prodigious tongue protruding to lick her hands. Mia smiles, giving a signal and Jasmine knows to further bend her right knee, calve rising to present her curled foot. As Mia slips the boot in place, Lesley notes the shape perfectly aligns, the curvature of the interior arch matching that of the foot.
“Custom made from molds. Quite expensive... but will last almost a lifetime,” Mia explains in tying in place.
Booted right foot returned to the concrete, as the left foot lifts, Lesley inquires.
“What happened... to her feet?”
“Gloria Lamont had me engage in an ancient Chinese custom. As added security, to assure the girls could not wander off, we performed foot binding... reshaping the foot by binding such that the toes are pressed to the heel. Over time... along with a little help from some taps with a wooden stick, the feet reshape.... such that only with special footwear can a girl stand and walk”
Lesley is horrified! It dawns that with hands locked into the thumbless mittens, the boots cannot be donned without assistance... apparently most times withheld.
“Okay Jasmine, to the wall, I want you upright... slowly... practice keeping your balance until I finish readying you for a nice evening walk. And you have permission to speak to Miss Lesley.”
The readying goes deftly. As Jasmine places her covered hands on the wall, using for balance as she rights herself at the waist then props up on right boot than left, Lesley realizes for the first time the plumped, naked and hairless girl is not only of great girth but tall. As she stands, boots essentially placing her on her toes, her bald head rises well above that of Lesley. At five foot nine, Lesley approximates Jasmine’s natural height at six foot... possibly more. The restrictive neck collar, forcing Jasmine to maintain perfect posture, head and face up, augments the presentation. Jasmine is a giantess... a captured beast.
Steadying herself, finding her legs, Jasmine knows to carefully slip her hands from the wall, support no longer needed, arms lowering. Mia guides her wrists back behind her, gently but firmly pressing to bend at the elbow, then pushes upwards using a short strap of leather to connect together the mittens and secure the hands to the back of the steel neck collar.
Next comes the anal hook. Lesley finds herself blushing as the shaft is introduced to the gluteal cleft and the smooth hemispherical tip finds its way past an evidently tight sphincter with a quick but convincing push. Next, another short strap of leather connects the loop at the top end to the bent elbows.
Testing, satisfied that Jasmine is well trussed, Mia next grasps the leash and hands it to Lesley. Jasmine knows to turn and face her master, smiling demurely as Mia reaches for the small bells.
“It is important... for the psyche... that a girl always feel under control... owned,” Mia lectures, hands working quickly to hook a high pitched chime to each nipple ring, then stooping, flicking about the ungainly strips of labial flesh to attach a pair to the labia rings as well. “With every step Jasmine will feel the anal insertion, hear the bells, and feel such grazing her nicely stretched pink parts.”
Lesley notes the look on Jasmine’s face... it is a pleasant look... one of agreeable surrender. Then Mia pauses in her explanation, hands right and left going to the enormous breasts, fingers flicking the nipples to bring forth sonorous chiming. Lesley then notes the pink has turned to crimson, announcing to all that the glands have recently been suckled... and suckled. Indeed the girl grimaces though Mia’s touch is slight.
“So, understand the sensual input. She will see your guiding leash hand, feel the anal penetration, hear the many bells... and with a few steps smell the fragrance of her own arousal. Other than the day Jasmine arrived on Shelter Island, she has not been vaginally cleansed. No douching... we like a girl to smell natural. With her response to your controlling hand... that will become evident as her cunny becomes wetter and wetter and she brings herself into a nice sexual froth.”
With the proximity, for the first time Lesley notes indeed that within the confines of the cinder block structure, the air is filling with the scent of feminine arousal.
“And you may ask about the fifth sense... taste. Well... that is very limited... being fed from a gastric tube. But what she is permitted to taste... it’s... well... guess that’s best discussed at another time. Perhaps afterwards. When you return just remove the tethers then slip off the boots. She’ll crawl into her cage for you. I’ll be back later to cuff and bind her for the night.”
There comes a pause, Lesley speechless in once again being overwhelmed.
“It’s your task to clip in place the leash, Lesley. It’s symbolic... and it’s best to establish your governance quickly. Never ever let it go free. If you need to rest, make sure it is well tied off. She must always feel captive... sense the surrender and capitulation. Though keep in mind that in being deeply set into the cartilage of the septum the nostril ring will not tear away but the agony of a strong tug can be excruciating. So she will be most obedient for you. But if direction is not followed use this,” Mia stepping away and returning with a short whip. “It’s a quirt. Since Jasmine is not expecting... use it freely."
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