Plymouth and Deborah (MF+/F+) *FINISHED*

[BlissfulMisery]

In reality most of this just wouldn't happen of course. So many red flags as you pointed out there's just no way.

More like a red flag factory

As for the chapter...

Again more of Brooke wrestling with her emotions and memory. Getting close to... something. Wanting to find that balance, that truth, but it just not coming to her. A section that is more important then it seems at first glance, despite not that much of relevance actually happening.

I'm scared, worried and yet moments later I'm cursing the slowness of time.

A great way to encapsulate her mixed feelings.

You have got to be the worst/best submissive I ever met.

Stephanie is not wrong there

Plymouth, I'm, not that good?

An interesting line. She literally sees herself as the two different personas. Hints of that earlier (post-accident that is, obviously this was the case before her memory loss), but I think this is the first time it is spelled out so clearly.

As for 'the idea'... I will take a guess that she will try to use her Plymouth/Domme personality to try to bowl over Stephanie, get her tied up, and give her a little 'interrogation'. Finally get some straight answers.

Would probably work well on Deborah, but Brooke does not know that, given her memory loss, and either way, might not work so well on Stephanie...

Or perhaps I am totally off the mark

Either way, should be interesting.

[RopeBunny]

Thank you both for the comments.

Two chapters below, everything playing out.

Enjoy.

[RopeBunny]

Steph and Deborah.
and Brooke.
and Plymouth.
002.

Half formed half crazy plan aside, as I already said, in the end they sank themselves.

The plan, like my head, is still full of holes as I climb off the Hayabusa, locking it to a lamppost with a length of thick chain from my messenger bag.

Locking.

And fuck me I hope, please, to be unlocking. Un. Locked? Before sundown.

Hole, problem one.

"Welcome back."

There's no way I can out Domme Steph.

"Afternoon."

So I don't, won't, even try. I could be a Domme, I have, and may still have to be before all this is played out. But I can't see charging into battle being a winning tactic against either of them. Too casually sure of the power they hold.

Holding said power, over me, whether I wish it or not.

Added to which, not to be mean or nasty. Because she looks quite sexy in my opinion. Steph's a big girl, and yes I'm likely packing more muscle from all the years shifting wood, but in a straight up fight.

A, rope fight if you like.

Her overall bulk would prove too much.

Luckily she doesn't answer the door dressed, nor outwardly displaying any signs of being in that particular Plymouth dooming mindset. Baggy grey drawstring jogging trousers paired with an equally oversized white tee. Very clearly she's braless.

"I was beginning to wonder...."
"Whether I was coming?" Stepping inside, guessing the answer as I shrug off my largely empty bag, placing it and my helmet, my leather jacket near the door.

Turning, Steph locking the door and turning too bringing us face to face. She nods.

"Well." I shrug, looking around pointedly, suppressing a shiver.

I'm here now.

Here. Right in the fucking lions den.

"Is she hiding?" Managing to keep my voice light, playful, as we wander through into the kitchen. "Going to jump out all," I wave my arms, "'surprise' and then you'll what." Somehow despite the building nerves I manage a laugh. "Double team me to death."

Steph laughs back. Clearly not in Domme mode yet. Which is.

Good? Right?

"No she really is gone, until." Eyeballing the clock. "A couple hours from now at the earliest. So." Stepping around me, passed me and.

Bollocks.

One hand so casually but not held out as she passes, extended fingers brushing across the front of my fitted tee, across my breasts.

Nothing I can do about the shiver that time, which Steph sees.

She- double bollocks -grins.

"How about a drink before we turn you into a pretty trussed up naked gift?"
"Sure." Screwed. I think I might be.

F. U. C. K. E. D.

Except.

Glancing at the table, thoughts of sitting although it feels an awful lot like surrender to sit down. And I see.

Sudden spark of things coming together. Dots connecting and closing up hole shaped problems two to eight, or eleven. Or however many I'd actually thought up on the ride from the lay-by to here.

Given my original thought had been nothing more then: try to get Steph talking before, or ideally without, getting myself bound and gagged. Try for as many answers as possible and hope Steph doesn't somehow Domme me into being that wrapped gift along the way.

"Here." Stepping up to the counter, coming alongside Steph and gently placing my hand atop hers as she places the kettle on its base. "Let me. Please."

Head flash turning to me on that last word, my voice deliberately calm and on the quieter side.

"Take that tee off." Sliding, Steph crosses her arms and takes a half step back.

Better view.

"And your bra."
"Okay." Small nod, feeling a tingle despite all I'm doing, hopefully, is playing along.

Unless Steph- shit -decides not to wait after all.

"And my jeans?"
"No." Shaking her head as I pull the stained tee and black bra underneath up and off in one movement, F cups bouncing as they pop free. Settling.

Steph eyes me up, I stand with head slightly lowered, hands clasped behind, hoping her blood isn't up.

Walking the edge. If she chooses to continue I'm fucked.

"Soon." A smiling nod, and Steph sits down. Behind her back I silently exhale.

Close.

Flicking the kettle's switch which feels like starting a timer. I take a deep breath.

Plunge in.

Coming up behind Steph I place a hand on each of her shoulders and begin massaging, putting my strength behind it, kneading and pushing down. Not dominant, showing attention.

"Ahhhhhhh." Posture relaxing arms flopping off her lap, Steph wriggles on the wooden chair, leaning her head back to look up at the ceiling.

I lean in, underside of my breasts rubbing teasingly against Steph's lips as my hands slide down onto her own chest.

Back up to her shoulders.

And Steph reacts perfectly, pushing her chest off the chair, eyes half closing head still angled back, tongue flicking across my retreating breasts.

Getting aroused.

Twice I repeat the move, each time showing her chest more attention, finding and running a quick circle of her nipples through the tee, and on the third go I stretch all the way down, taking the hem and tugging.

Lifting Steph's tee up even whilst coming around to sit in her lap straddling her.

Steph lifting her arms up, properly into it allowing me to half strip her.

Sat on her lap I lean in, kissing her whilst rubbing my chest across hers, nipples brushing.

Steph shivers, I go in for the kill.

"I use this down the woods."
"Woods?" Not all here, slow blink mouth still half open. I lean in and kiss her again.

Kettle beginning to boil, making noise enough soon to shatter the moment.

Hurry the fuck up Plymouth.

"Where I work." Making the fact a teasing whisper, a distraction as I pull the long piled chain off the table, not thick but hardly a child's thing. It comes, rattling noisily.

"Nothing this thick though." Musing still light and teasing, leaning in pressing my erect nipples into hers. Steph biting her lip as I wrap the chain around her body and arms, just below those giant breasts.

"You could," another kiss. More distracting just a short while longer until it's too late, "easily pin me naked to a tree with this."
"Yes." Husky, not even. Clearly because she doesn't comment on the fact despite trying and failing to push her chest into mine. Steph is too into kissing me to realise I'm, quickly because I need it done before she wakes up, binding her to the chair.

It's a long chain. Wrapping it several times around her body, below then above her chest, I use one of the padlocks atop the table to prevent my binding coming loose.

Then, running my hands over her, and somehow she isn't aware what's happening, I wrap her wrists to the tops of the rear chair legs, and her ankles to the bottoms of the front ones.

Securing her in place with a further three padlocks at strategic locations.

Standing, stepping back. I'm just slipping my tee back on- fuck the bra -when Steph's eyes refocus.

She blinks. Frowns. Looks down at her nakedness, up at me. Wriggles. Which makes plenty of noise but achieves nothing despite the chain not exactly being a great means of binding.

"Well." Quick laugh. "Shit."

I'd been expecting anger, shouting. Steph somehow trying to assert her dominance despite being chained up.

I hadn't been ready for acceptance.

I laugh too.

"So," as I sit down opposite her, "what now?"
"We talk." Crossing one leg to rest a booted foot on my knee. "I think I'm owed some answers."

Silence back, Steph looking thoughtful.

"You," slight disbelief, "really don't remember?"
"No." Scratching the scar on my head. "I don't even remember Carnival, had to find Deborah's picture in a book to learn that much."
"Not my picture?"
"No." Her tone, small tease at the edges. I nod, guess. "Because you aren't from Carnival?"

"I'm not." Nodding. "It isn't my place to tell you Deborah's. You'll have to." Looking down at herself, another quick laugh. "Get them from her yourself. But. You've known her longer then me, and I guess some of hers is ours. So." A shrug.

I wait. Steph continues.

"Alice."
"Who?"
"Right." A nod. "I never bothered to learn how but Deborah was Alice's slave. Like." Fixing me with a look. A Domme look.

Making me shiver inside and out, and had Steph right there demanded freeing, I would've despite it spelling my own capture.

"A real slave." Missing the moment, Steph keeps talking. "At some point you became her slave too."
"And you were...?"
"Alice's friend." Smiling. "She let me come around and play sometimes. Alice loved submitting too, so."
"So you got to play with all three of us?"

Wow, three slaves. What a trip that must've been.

"Somehow." A shrug, which is fine I don't care about every detail either. "You got free, with Deborah. But you."

"I?" Because she'd just, closed up. "What?"
"You missed me." Looking me in the eye. "You came to find me, wanting to submit." Showing me a small smile. "To me."
"Right."

Which explains why it, the garage, felt right. Must be at some point I've submitted to Deborah too. Must be, surely, that she was a. My. Domme, before becoming Alice's slave.

"So you came." Looking it seems through me, into her memories. "And." Licking her lips but not suggestive, more like taking a moment. "We had fun, I thought. But after you left I didn't hear from you."
"Because," more guessing, "of the crash?"
"Seems like it." A nod.

"I'll cut out a bunch of details and just say, Deborah and me got together, and, well. We both cared about you. So. We looked, and eventually we found you. Plymouth." Very openly eying my chest. "Working again, looking amazing as always."

I start laughing as the pieces slot together. Mad. Crazy.

"You could've just come said hi." Shaking my head. "Instead of all this tricking me back into slavery shit." Suddenly sobering up, glaring at Steph. "Because that's the goal, right?" Fighting, succeeding, this time, to keep my voice level as I feel the anger bubble. "You both want me back, as a slave."

And to her credit, I suppose, now the plan's laid bare, and clearly failed because there's no way I'll allow it. Now I know the trick they were trying to pull there's not a chance in hell of my arousal overriding my common sense.

"We were drunk." Quiet, looking at the floor. "We got drunk and," eyes back to me, a helpless shrug because no doubt she knows it's all over too, "the idea just kinda snowballed."

I leave her there. I get up without another word and walk out, collecting my things and closing the door behind me.

Still lacking a whole field of holes worth of answers, but. I no longer care.

I'm out. Done.

I'm sure when Deborah returns home Steph will fill her in.

[RopeBunny]

Epilogue.

"Excuse me Miss," smiling ear to ear though she isn't looking up and my stupidly fake accent is, somehow, fooling her, "can I get a Whopper."
"What?" Having not noticed me enter, nor looked up as I walked the length of the largely deserted interior, McDonald's at midnight. Morgan finally looks up.

"Oh."
"And a very good evening to you too pretty lady." Leaning across the counter to plant a kiss on her surprised lips, the male coworker beside Morgan getting an eyeful as my F cups puddle on the surface.

We retreat outside, Morgan owed a fag break, to talk.

Where I tell her everything. As much of everything as I know anyway. Wanting to be honest, to explain. Because, I really can't see Deborah or Stephanie coming for me again, but.

Knowing what I'm discovering about my love of bondage, my complete lack of restraint when it comes to setting limits and playing safe, for all I know there are others, and.

"I just want you to know that...."
"That." Smiling, blowing a plume of smoke over my shoulder as she steps closer, jamming her free hand into my jeans. Morgan's skin is cold against the warmth of my butt. "At some point some crazy stranger might try and kidnap you."
"Pretty much."

We both laugh, despite it being, crazy and bizarre, a possibility.

"Don't worry B." Kissing me, taste of ash in my mouth as I respond. "I'll come rescue you."

Not that I'd expected her to leave, there's something growing between us, something good. Fun. But.

I'm glad I asked.

[RopeBunny]

As for 'the idea'... I will take a guess that she will try to use her Plymouth/Domme personality to try to bowl over Stephanie, get her tied up, and give her a little 'interrogation'. Finally get some straight answers.

Reading my notes again

So.

The end.

A strange thing this story. Twists and turns.

Originally I had an itch to scratch, I wanted to delve back into Plymouth as a true slave, proper hardcore level stuff whipping and the cage.

The ending was going to be Plymouth and Deborah, some form of happy ever after for them both. But.

I had enough of the slave stuff and so wrote the accident as a form of clean break, and, since that point I've been angling towards Plymouth breaking free.

Morgan an unexpected bonus, working and slotting in well.

I'm sorry if the ending is somewhat abrupt. As I said I'd had enough, wanted things wrapped up smoothly but without taking fifty chapters.

Plymouth isn't over though.

I'm beginning a fresh new story, no more Deborah or Stephanie, going back to the roots of just her being a model and having fun.

I hope you'll all join me.

And.

Thanks, as always, for reading.

[GreyLord]

I am looking forward, @RopeBunny, to Plymouth returning to being a bondage model and just having fun. You had a great excursion. But, for me, the beginning was the greatest.

[BlissfulMisery]

Reading my notes again

I would not say that I guessed it perfectly - the scene ended up more Brooke tricking Stephanie into an interrogation. But close enough I suppose

"Is she hiding?" Managing to keep my voice light, playful, as we wander through into the kitchen. "Going to jump out all," I wave my arms, "'surprise' and then you'll what." Somehow despite the building nerves I manage a laugh. "Double team me to death."

I actually really liked this set of lines. It is not anything 'special', but it is a fun little bit of dialogue on her part that stood out (in a good way!)

I'm sorry if the ending is somewhat abrupt. As I said I'd had enough, wanted things wrapped up smoothly but without taking fifty chapters.

It is indeed a little abrupt, but it does wrap things up sufficiently. Ultimately if you were getting bored with the concept, better to just stop rather then drag it out.

Plymouth isn't over though.

I'm beginning a fresh new story, no more Deborah or Stephanie, going back to the roots of just her being a model and having fun.

I hope you'll all join me.

I am sure whatever you end up doing next with Brooke/Plymouth will be worth the wait!

Thanks, as always, for reading.

You are welcome - it is always a pleasure

And I am sure it is for many others, even if they often seem a little shy in voicing their appreciation!