Janice knew now what she'd suspected all along, that the steel cuffs were for her wrists. Now she also knew something much more important. The timer had been started before they were fitted, and was therefore not relevant in her case. The two-hour limit did not apply, and obviously she had no chance of escaping from locked manacles. The uncertainty made her more nervous, but also more excited, and she was struggling to control her breathing as Clementine and Polly approached her together. Her short-sleeved blouse was no obstacle, so the cuffs were quickly locked onto her wrists. Each had a swivelling 'O' ring, and Clementine gently drew her hands behind her back and, with a separate padlock, joined them together. Janice had not for a moment thought of resisting, but she knew that her life had just turned a corner. She just didn't know what lay ahead. For the moment she was glad that she'd submitted to being restrained without fainting or even trembling noticeably, but the older woman had noticed her anxiety. 'Do what you want now', she told her. 'Watch the others, or wander around the house. Everywhere is open to you.'

Still getting used to the feel of the cold steel- for her MP had always roped her- she felt at a loss. She'd expected to be mastered; to be seized and ravished immediately, possibly by both women at once. Failing that, perhaps they would lock her away somewhere for later use. Now she had no idea what to do. The three couples were hard at it now, with one of the bound women's top having been torn asunder down the front, and her temporary 'dom' pulling her generous breasts out of their lacy bra. The others had less enticing mammaries, and attention was concentrated more on their lower regions, with skirts pulled right up, panties discarded and fingers feeling for moist openings. Janice was excited by what she saw, but knew it would be too frustrating to watch it for two hours, and decided to go exploring. She always liked to look around people's houses, and this was a very unusual one, with the old farmhouse and its modern additions skilfully blended. The walk through the kitchen and into the hallway gave her the opportunity to get into the rhythm of walking with her arms confined, something she'd never had to do in her own little flat. She tried to monitor the way her shoulders moved, and to dampen any tendency for her breasts to swing, for the quarter-cup bra that she'd chosen did little to control them. She'd dressed quite provocatively, for some reason emboldened by the knowledge that no men would be present. A very light, white thin blouse that buttoned down the front went well with a short, flared orange skirt, with only tiny panties and the bra underneath to offer a second line of defence. She wore no tights or socks, but was breaking in a new pair of very high-heeled, 'fuck me' shoes that did nothing to improve her gait, now she was denied the use of her arms for balance. They were bright red, intended to increase and underline the impact of the orange skirt.

In the hall she spent a minute or two preening herself in a full-length mirror. She'd never seen herself in bondage before, and thought she compared favourably with many of the models she'd seen on the internet. If she pulled her elbows inwards her breasts were forced forward, the nipples poking through the fabric and almost begging to be tweaked, and she felt that, if any stray males were lurking in the shadows, she'd be seized and used without a second thought, and she wouldn't even try to object. There was a big lounge on the other side of the hall, but it was in almost total darkness, so she gave way to the temptation to descend a broad flight of shallow stairs that might have been designed to be negotiated in bondage. Just once she teetered precariously and escaped falling by sitting down abruptly, taking the last few steps on her bottom. The light in the lower hallway was dim, but she could see through the open doors that all the rooms had some illumination, so she set about exploring them.

The layout of the building was unusual, for the original house had been built on the edge of a low but sheer limestone face. When extended, the bedrooms on the upper floor had been kept, and the lounge and dining room had picture windows installed to take advantage of the view down the valley towards the coast. The main changes were below, where the existing cave-cellars had been hollowed out and reinforced with steel props, and two large en suite bedrooms created that could, if desired, be used as studio apartments. The result was a five-bedroomed house, but in addition four of the stables had been converted for guest accommodation, two having their own kitchens. Janice didn't know any of that then, and as she turned left into the largest and more luxurious of the two suites, she was entering terra incognita. In the half-light she skirted round the furniture, noted the huge four-poster bed, and made for the window with its deep surrounds, cut directly into the limestone.

It was a cold, clear night, and the nearly full moon illuminated the farmyard and the slopes beyond it. She stood looking out for several minutes, spotting the occasional movement that she thought might be a fox, a badger or even a humble rabbit. She found the view so absorbing that for a short time she almost forgot where she was, and the other people in the house, and her restraints, against which she jerked hard when she felt two hands grasping her shoulders. 'So you found my little abode, my dear, and you got to me without falling down the stairs. That has to be a good sign.'

The voice was deep but female, and the hands relaxed their grip enough for her to turn around and see the stranger. The mixture of artificial and moonlight gave her an eerie, heavily shadowed appearance, but she was a very handsome woman of at least forty, the laughter lines around her eyes picked out by the light. Her features were symmetrical and her lips wide and full, and her hair was short but neatly trimmed into a bob. Janice was held too close for her to assess her figure, but she had the impression that she was neither very fat nor very thin. She was smiling, looking straight at her with an unwavering gaze, giving the impression that she liked what she saw. 'You're as pretty as Clementine said. Alexa: lights up to half, please'.

The LED lighting in the ceiling responded to her voice, and the level increased smoothly until it was still quite restful, but enough for them to see one another clearly. Janice was drawn to her confidence, her maturity and the quiet authority that she took for granted. As she gently turned her from side to side, Janice felt controlled, almost owned, an impression that was much stronger when she stroked her fingertips over her nipples, causing her to flush bright red and suddenly perspire, so her face was covered in beads of sweat. Praying that her anti-perspirant was as good as its manufacturers claimed, she gathered her wits enough to speak. 'It's terribly warm in here, ma'am', was all she could manage.

'It's the heat pumps', came the matter-of-fact reply. 'Clementine's very keen on sustainable energy.' Her hand settled on the left breast, feeling its shape through the thin material. 'We have a water mill and solar panels too, so we never have to burn anything. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable, dear. Let's get this off you.'

She didn't bother undoing the buttons, but with two very strong hands, simply tore the front of the blouse open, sending them flying in all directions. She had a pair of scissors hanging from her own waistband, and with them she quickly sliced up the back, enabling her to remove the shreds completely. Back in front, she pulled the bra away and cut through the front, between the breasts, and pulled it away. 'I know you busty girls like some support', she said, 'but not in company, please. You never know when someone will decide to grab a handful, and wire isn't at all sexy.'