Chapter 3: The Vacation

Moira and Graham opened their eyes together as their alarm clattered metallically on the nightstand at 8 a.m. Sunday.  Graham was, as always, the first out of bed and went to the bathroom to shower, shave and get ready for a day of rest with his "supercharged bride" of 15 years, Moira Edna MacPeak, 33, mother of two teenaged boys recently enlisted in the Royal Navy.

"Graham, do you have the keys to these?" Moira called out to her husband in the bath.  "Can’t hear you, Mo," came the reply.  Moira swung her chained ankles out of bed with an unaccustomed tinkle of stainless-steel links on the carpet and shuffled/staggered into the bathroom to join her husband.  Graham was shaving when Moira crept in behind him, put her hands and arms around his chest and snuggled against his back.

Graham’s manhood grew as he felt Moira’s soft, 36-C breasts flatten against his muscular back and her turned around and kissed her passionately on both cheeks, leaving little traces of SuperShave on her cheeks.

"Keep those chains on for breakfast, Moira, and let’s see how you, or rather, we react to them.  It’s so far, so good, ‘init?"

Moira agreed; after all, they had not hindered their lovemaking; if anything, it made sex much more intense, just as Isabel said had happened to her, and she was just as content to keep her ankles chained Sunday morning -- maybe the afternoon, too.  

Moira finished in the bathroom and shuffled back into the bedroom to get her dressing gown and clinked out into the kitchen to make their breakfast -- juice, bacon, tomatoes, toast, cheese and marmalade and coffee -- while Graham scanned the Glasgow and Edinburgh Sunday papers for news, stocks, bonds and mutual funds quotes and the classifieds.

Graham sipped his coffee and munched on toast as he turned the pages of the Edinburgh weekender, then set it down and turned to the Glasgow Sunday classifieds for entertainment.  His eyes soon fell on 061 - Personals and he glanced down at the display ads for companions, dog sitters, plant waterers and assorted other requests.

The ad he was hoping to read was near the end of the three columns of display text.  His eyes widened as he read:

"Moira, read this," he said as he sat the classified section down in front of her.  Moira set down her coffee cup and looked at the ad.  She read it the second time.  And a third.

Finally, she said: "Well, that’s very interesting, Graham.  But who on earth would refer us?  This isn’t Playland, you know.  We would have to know what we are getting into before we would decide on anything.  You know I like to be informed about everything before we make any plans."

"Well, first of all, Moira, I’m just curious whether you would consider participating in such a fantasy weekend in the first place.  If you choose not to, well, we’ll just forget we ever saw the ad.  But do you think you would like to spend a weekend, chained in a dungeon, with me, for a weekend?  It sounds kinda sexy and exciting for me."

"Mmm, I don’t know," Moira replied.  "I’ve only worn this chain overnight and I don’t know if I’m ready for a weekend in chains or not.  Let me think about it."

"OK," Graham replied.  And he let the matter stand.

Moira stood up with an unaccustomed little rustle of her ankle chain to clear away the breakfast dishes, put them in the sink and turned to go to the bedroom to get dressed.  Graham held her by the hand as she moved past the table and said: "I hope you decide in the positive, Moira; I think it would be a fun way to spend a weekend."

"Mmm, I’ll let you know what I think," Moira said as she leaned forward to give her husband a peck on the cheek, affording him a quick, cock-hardening glance down the delicious, deep cleavage the new nightgown gave her, before continuing to the bedroom to dress.

She was about to sit on the bed to unlock the padlocks securing the chain to her ankles when the thought occurred to her:  Isabel Metcalfe has full-time experience in chains and would likely be as good a reference as any, if she consented.  Moira unlocked the two brass locks, put the chain and locks neatly under her pillow and pulled the wrinkled nightgown over her head.  She chose a tight T-shirt, jeans and sandals to wear today and decided she would go braless, for the first time ever, all day.  And the rest of her life.

Dressed, well almost, she thought, she went back into the kitchen to join Graham, her breasts bobbing "like two puppies under a blanket," as Graham would say, under her light shirt. 

Her nipples poked enticingly through the thin material of her white ‘T’ and Moira was pleased with the way her body was responding in a youthful way.  Graham put the paper down to watch her walk in and she knew she had his attention as she sat down at the kitchen table.

"Let’s do it," she announced.  "I ought really to talk to Isabel and ask if she could supply us with references.  She has bondage experience, she probably is well-known to the bondage community by now, even thought she may not realize it, and she is something of a resource person for me.

"Why don’t you give them a call tomorrow, Monday, and get some more information and I’ll talk to Isabel.  Maybe she and Peter might like to come along, too.  What do you think?"

Graham thought it was a wonderful idea and said he would call the number in the ad first thing Monday. The rest of Sunday passed uneventfully for Graham and Moira: Moira did some housework, Graham mowed the lawns and both watched some afternoon TV before Moira started getting supper ready.  Monday was a national holiday and the two looked forward to a luxurious day of rest at home.

At bedtime, Moira undressed as Graham watched her from the bed.  Both were again turned on as Moira slipped the nightgown over her head, sat on her side of the bed and locked her ankle chain on her trim ankles once again.  And their passionate embraces resumed unabated. Passionate sex two nights in row was doing wonders for their relationship.

Next day, Moira’s ankles were slightly chafed and tender from the overnight clutch of chains but she didn’t care.  She sat at the kitchen table and listened while Graham made the call to the Ball-More-All fantasy hotel/dungeon in northern Scotland. 

Depending on the results of his conversation, she would call Isabel and get her feedback and recommendation.

"Hello?  Hello?" Graham began.  "My name is Graham MacPeak and I’m calling with regards your advert. in the Sunday newspaper.

"Yes.  Yes.

"I’m 35 and she’s 33; married; no, we don’t do drugs; happily married for 15 years and just starting to experiment well, you know, with eh, ah, bondage.

"No.  Yes.

"I am sure we can provide references and your rate of 75 pounds for the weekend, all inclusive, sounds quite reasonable.  Let me discuss these details with my wife, Moira, and we will get back to you.  Is it possible another couple could join us?  You have adjoining dungeon cells?  Well!

"Yes?  You would like the women to be chained on arrival?  Oh, my.

"Let me call you first thing tomorrow.  Yes.  Moira and Graham MacPeak.

"Thank you; we’ll get back to you.  Goodbye."

Moira leaned over the kitchen table, allowing her nightgown to fall away from her bosom slightly, as Graham hung up and looked intently at his wife.

Graham gave Moira the details of his conversation with the proprietors of the hotel/dungeon on the north coast of Scotland: it was a 100-year-old hotel done over to suit the B/D crowd; it had eight small chambers done over as dungeon cells, complete with chains, cots and shackles galore; all cells were centrally heated; upstairs was a suite of deluxe hotel rooms with adjoining full-service restaurant/bar and lounge for pre- and post-"dungeon time."  Guests had to be referred by someone active in the bondage scene and who was known to the Scottish B/D scene; the price was 75 pounds/couple for a weekend, which included 24-hour access to the cells, deluxe accommodation upstairs and introduction to the hotel’s extensive, expensive array of bondage gear which comprised mainly shackles and chains for the bodies and limbs of women of all ages (20 - 75). 

There were even provisions for chains to be fitted on clients -- male or female -- for periods of up to one year, provided medical and legal waivers and release forms were signed, Graham told Moira, but Moira was too busy thinking what she was going to ask Isabel later today.

After supper, Moira slipped out of the kitchen, got undressed and locked her ankles again in the 24-in. chain as she had the previous evening. 

She put her dressing gown over her chained nudity and joined Graham in the living room.  Graham was delighted to see his wife again in chained ankles and wasted no time in getting her in the mood again.  Soon, the pair were mock-wrestling like teenagers on the living room couch, smothering each other alternately with weakly-applied half-nelsons, interspersed with passionate, deep kisses, until Moira could take it no longer.  Moira’s chain snubbed her legs at virtually every move but she was growing to enjoy the hindrances they placed on her movements.

"To bed," she ordered jokingly.  "Yes, ma’am," Graham replied.  And the pair moved their action into the bedroom where, once again, the chains proved to be a powerful stimulant for renewed sexual energy.

This night, Moira got on top of her husband and proved she was still the capable lover she was 16 years ago when they first experimented with different sexual positions.  Moira loved the way Graham’s manhood slipped so gently into her warm, tender vagina and she took the initiative tonight by using pelvic-thrusting technique to bring him to a shuddering orgasm in just 10 minutes.  Her own climax followed moments after, with Graham gripping her breasts firmly in both hands,  and they continued to clutch each other fervently bathing in the warming, soothing effects of sexual afterglow .

They were soon asleep with Moira still on top, impaled by her husband’s semi-rigid cock.

On Tuesday, Moira made her big phone call to Isabel to ask if she would write or phone Ball-More-All, the bondage "entertainment centre" Graham had contacted,  to supply a character reference for them.  Isabel was at first surprised but soon agreed to recommend them unreservedly to the proprietors. 

She told her friend she would say that Graham and Moira MacPeak are of sterling Scottish character; that Moira has a growing interest in safe, sane, consensual bondage; and that the couple had consented to engage in bondage activity in an informed, mature way provided it would be conducted in a private, safe and comfortable environment. 

Moira was delighted to hear the wholehearted endorsement Isabel had agreed to provide and offered that she and Peter might care to come along as well on a fantasy weekend.

"Could you discuss this with Graham?" Isabel asked Moira carefully.

"Certainly, Isabel, and I am sure Graham will agree. I think it would be lovely if you two were to come along with us.  I understand that the hotel would like us women -- er, that means me -- to be in chains before our arrival. Maybe you could help me prepare, provided we are accepted?"

Isabel said she was confident the hotel would accept them as guests for the weekend and told Moira to press on with her plans.

Moira’s next step was to inform Graham, when he got back from work that day, that Isabel would provide character references to the hotel and that she had invited Isabel and Peter to come, too.

When Graham called to confirm the arrangements with the hotel next day, he was delighted o hear that Isabel had, indeed, telephoned character references that were accepted fully and that Isabel had taken the initiative in requesting reservations for four -- for herself and Peter and the MacPeaks -- and that she was going to "pay the lot" from an advance of pay she recently received from the University of Edinburgh.

Michael and Sheila, the hotel proprietors, had read all the news reports of Isabel’s recent kidnapping and desert exploits in bondage and considered her to be a welcome guest -- and resource -- to their enterprise.  When Isabel asked about how she should be bound prior to arrival at the hotel, the owners informed her that her present shackles would be more than adequate and that, perhaps, Mrs. MacPeak could be similarly attired?  Isabel said she would pass on that little detail and Moira reluctantly accepted to be bound in chains for the trip to northern Scotland at the end of August -- three weeks hence.