I never knew that I had so many questions until the evening of that party. Not being long into my wrestling career at that point, it immediately struck me as odd that someone of Katalina's caliber would have any interest in me at all. Naturally it was just to find a performer for her daughter's... well, now OUR daughter's... birthday party. As far as wrestling went I had nothing to offer her considering our respective levels of experience. In fact, considering my run-ins with her partners at the time, seeing her approach me had me immediately looking over my shoulder. AND hers. But when she made her request I didn't think twice. It filled me with a strange mix of fear and excitement for reasons I couldn't put my finger on.
The party itself, though, was inconsequential. The children were entertained and their bright smiles were a wonderful sight to see. However, I noted after a time that Katalina herself wasn't present and where it shouldn't have concerned me beyond the fact that she was, for the evening, my employer... I felt the need to seek her out. Whether she wants to detail how that part of the evening went is up to her. The point is that our conversation that night led me to the aforementioned questions. Questions I never knew I had. Questions I suddenly needed the answers to. Needed them like I needed air. The whole of my life saw me locked in rationality and logic. Every minute, every second, had purpose and I was determined to make the most of them. Impetuous or spur-of-the-moment words and actions... they were dangerous and I avoided them scrupulously.
But not that night. A fire was stoked in me and I simply... had to know.
Zoey Anne Madigan
@MagicalMadigan
____________________________________________________________________________________
A GIFT
ELEVEN HOURS AGO
“Why am I doing this?”
Zahara mentally pounded the same, five-worded query into her brain silently for the umpteenth time in as many minutes. Upon leaving a well-tucked Katalina Star in her bed, a pink Hello Kitty ball gag tucked neatly between her lips, covered by the blankets swathing her beautiful body, the young magician had gone back to her hotel room. Her spare key rested on Katalina’s nightstand as she departed, bidding a good-bye to Holly, Ariel and of course the darling Makayla on her way out. That was the first time she asked the question of herself, barely a mile from the house, pulling to a halt at a red light. She tugged her right sleeve up a little, her fingertips tracing over the quickly-fading marks the leather cuffs had made on her fair skin. The young woman lifted a hand then, feeling the same indentations at the corners of her lips and upon her cheek where the ball that now filled Katalina’s warm mouth had rested hours ago.
*BEEP!*
The impatient blare of the car behind her reminded her that life went on and the light was in fact green. Muttering an apology that the other driver could in no way hear, Zahara pulled through the intersection, heading toward town. She had another ten minutes before she reached the hotel and every pause in her path was another moment that she spaced out. It was with great relief that she pulled into the hotel parking lot and shut off the rental, just laying her head back against the seat with a sigh.
“Why am I doing this?”
THE PRESENT
In the present, she was perched on the edge of the king-sized hotel bed, staring at herself in the mirror across the way. What she saw made her smile a little: a dark-haired beauty in her favorite stage attire, consisting of a black one-piece unitard with a shape not unlike a bathing suit. Over such a crisp white shirt with a ruffle in front, the collar bearing a sequined purple bow tie, that same color matching the buttons and cuffs of her black jacket as well as the band around the base of her top hat.
“That’s probably going to fall off,” she mused quietly to herself, eyes raising to look up at the hat.
Taking it off, she set it briefly aside, white-gloved hands tracing about the brim. She smiled again, the contentment overtaking her massive case of nerves. Her wand sat next to her on the bed but that...was mostly there for show.. Still, it felt comforting to have close at hand, especially considering the myriad other items spread out near it on the bedspread.
“‘All the way or not at all’ right, brother?”
Nodding to herself, to her reflection in the mirror, Zahara turned and retrieved the first of the black leather cuffs from nearby. Leaning over, she buckled the first about her right ankle, the conditioned, smooth leather feeling pleasant against the textured nylon sheathing each of her legs. Little black stars were scattered all about the stockings, one of her favorite pairs. Without giving herself time to worry, she snatched up the matching cuff and locked it about her left ankle. The sparkly purple heels she wore seemed to shine a little brighter with the polished steel of the cuffs near them. Finding one of her keyed padlocks, she locked the cuffs together and just like that her legs were connected.
Lifting them, she examined the sight before her and felt a thrill shoot through her body. It took a couple of deep breaths to calm her once she set her legs back down, reaching now for a wide leather belt with several steel rings at various points all around it. This was one of the easier parts, she told herself, buckling and locking the belt into place, making sure she had the rings positioned as she wanted. Next up, she retrieved the leather wrist cuffs and paused. Gazing upon her fair, recently-washed skin, she could no longer make out the marks from Kat’s cuffs. It made her sad for a split-second, until murmuring to herself that she was “about to make more anyway” and buckled the leather into place.
“Why am I doing this?”
“Because you want to.”
“But does she want me to?”
“Guess you won’t know until you try, will you?”
She could do without the internal argument with herself, forcing herself to focus on continuing her task, simultaneously hoping that the letter taped to the door would be there for Katalina to find upon her arrival…
...if she came at all.
NINE HOURS AGO
Lugging her gear back to the room, Zahara was thankful for the elevator. In her current state, the stairs wouldn’t have been kind. The party had been wonderful and the children were all very sweet, but she’d been on her feet for hours, not to mention that little interlude with Kat in the basement. Standing in her room’s shower with hot water blasting down, pouring over her bare flesh, she thought back to that moment with a sweet smile. Kat, so down on herself, looked like she needed reassurance which Zahara had thought she’d given not minutes prior. And, truly, how much solace could a cuffed and gagged woman offer, after all?
Taking the wine bottle away and looping her cuffed arms around Kat, Zahara had intended to give her the best hug she could, wanting to still her friend’s worries. Next thing she knew, Kat was snoring against her shoulder and the young magician had to wiggle her way out of the restraints. Not that she was in a huge rush, standing there for a couple minutes with Kat held up against her, enjoying the moment. It had taken the better part of fifteen minutes to get free but once she did Kat had been taken to bed. Zahara had forgotten about the collar until she was in the process of tugging off Kat’s boots before draping the blanket over her but, in the end, decided to leave it where it was. Currently it sat on her own nightstand waiting for her.
It was the only piece that didn’t mark her skin. No, the mark that bronzed leather left was intangible and far deeper.
“Why am I doing this?”
Snapping from her reverie, Zahara turned off the water and reached for a towel, rubbing the water from her body as she stepped out onto the mat. Towel wrapped above her chest, she returned to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the collar. Reaching forth to touch it, she drew her hand back after a second, shaking her head.
“I’m just being silly...right?”
Nodding in response to herself, she pulled on her favorite champagne-colored satin nightgown but couldn’t shake the mental image of Kat from her mind, the moment where she buckled that collar around the magician’s neck. Looking upon it a second time, she finally allowed herself to pick it up. Tentatively, she buckled it in place, fingertips stroking the surface and bringing a soft smile to her face.
And just like that, off went the lights and under the covers Zahara went. Curling up beneath the blankets, she giggled softly to herself, imagining Kat doing some squirming at that moment and savoring the shiver that rushed through her insides at the mental image.
“She’s going to get me for that, probably. No, definitely. She definitely will. And I can’t wait.”
THE PRESENT
And that collar still rested about her neck even now, just visible above the collar of her shirt. Zahara felt it plainly, tempted to touch it but needing to keep her hands busy before her nerve melted away. Would Katalina think her crazy for keeping the collar on, not to mention for doing what she was doing? Who knew? All Zahara knew was that the sensations from the previous evening were too strong to ignore and this...this was the only way to deal with them for now. Sleep had been fitful and nothing she did distracted her. In the end...this was the only way. A second shower, some time in front of the mirror accenting her appearance then donning her favorite stage costume...and now here she was.
By this point she was sitting back on the bed, a leather strap buckled tight both above and below her knees. Another pair she’d managed to wrap above and below her chest, something that made it stand out more than usual. Zahara was athletic, not busty, but with those straps holding tight she had quite the profile. And once she pressed those locking rings together, she was stuck. They teased her from the sides of the belt, begging to be linked to the rings upon her wrist cuffs.
She huffed a little, the only sound she could make at that point with her mouth filled so well. It was as she said to Katalina, that her collection was nowhere near as extensive as the Domina’s. All of this...it was stage gear. Very real, very effective, but only ever used for her shows. The gag was makeshift: a packing of soft cloth muffling her beneath layers of black tape and a wrapping of a single bandage over the adhesive. On top of all this, a purple sash that made it look more visually appealing though it added little to her silence which was already all but complete. Zahara had only to lower her head, push the padded leather blindfold into place and press the rings together...and she’d be stuck until Katalina arrived or, if need be, she freed herself.
And that would take at least an hour if not more.
“Why am I doing this?”
“You know why.”
“Yeah, I do…”
A tug here, a pair of metallic clicks here...and Zahara could do little but lie back on the bed. A few tugs and struggles told her what she already knew: that she was good and stuck. Her last glance at the clock showed it was almost 9am. Perhaps she should have called Kat before doing this. Instead, she could but hope that the Dominatrix was an early riser. In her head, she no longer questioned herself and instead recalled the words of Katalina during her restraint…
THREE HOURS AGO
...just as she had when writing the letter that was taped to her door, awaiting Miss Star’s eyes.
Dear Katalina,
Yesterday has yet to leave my thoughts and I get the feeling that it may never do so. Part of me doesn’t want them to, though I’m certain that you already know and understand that sentiment. I do hope you managed some rest last night, that my wrapping wasn’t too difficult to wiggle out of. Sometimes I forget that escape artistry isn’t everyone’s thing. Still, you looked quite content for what that’s worth. Content...and lovely.
From the time I arrived back here at the hotel I’ve been asking myself whether what I’ve planned on doing, and at this point have done, is right. At best it’s an invitation and a transfer of power that I may not yet be ready for. At worst it is a situation that could turn against me at a moment’s notice. Yet with what has been awakened in me, and the words we shared, ‘all the way or not at all’, I feel that this is the only way to express what I’m feeling inside.
You have a choice, Miss Star. There’s no wrong answer, only the one that’s right for you. There’s no need to detail the nature of that choice, because the moment you lay eyes on what’s within this room, you’ll understand better than you could were I to try and ineffectually word it the same way I did yesterday. What I have done here I have done in an effort to explore the new sensations awoken within me and, in a sense, plead for more of your knowledge and understanding in my trying to discover the truth of it all.
If nothing comes of this, I will understand and continue to treasure the moments shared between us as I endeavor to find my own way forward. If you are accepting of what you find, my promise is that you will find me an attentive and eager student for what you may teach me. Regardless of which outcome occurs, you will always have my thanks for last night and a friend who will be there whenever you need her.
Sincerely,
Zoey Anne Madigan
THE PRESENT
Hearing is the only sensation left to Zahara now. She has no sense of time, surrounded by darkness, her mobility limited severely. There is only what she can hear beyond her and within herself. The pounding of her heart against her ribcage, the heaviness of her breaths...and after what feels like an eternity, the click of the door’s lock opening.
The moment of truth had arrived.
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