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Taking the day off of work had its benefits. For one, the grocery stores weren't too much of a hassle. Helga did take note of all the middle-aged ladies and the few men that seemed to stay home while their other halves worked, though it wasn't as crowded as she expected. The pig also noticed those very same men and women giving her sideways glance as she pushed her cart by, probably transfixed on her leather jacket and jeans didn't scream 'suburbia' like they were used to seeing.

She paid them no heed as she checked her shopping list over. Normally she didn't need a list whenever she scoured the isles, but she wasn't shopping for just herself anymore. Ever since her punky vole moved in she had to start paying for two. Something that was taking a noticeable, but thankfully not unreasonable, bite out of her budget.

An annoying voice echoed from behind her, squeaking, "Beep beep," before a shopping cart bumped against Helga's rump. With a deep breath, she turned over to whoever found it funny to collide with her. Seeing a small sheep with square glasses and a floral dress led to the pig sighing instead.

"Hello, Dawn," Helga said as she turned back around.

"Helga? Oh is that you?" Dawn said with an air of confidence, "I didn't see you behind your ass."

Helga chuckled as the sheep rolled her cart next to hers, "You've seen it up close plenty of times."

"Sure," the sheep leaned into her cart handle, "Back when it was two pants sizes smaller."

The porcine woman said nothing as she grabbed a cereal box from the top shelf. Checking the contents, it seemed decent enough. No extra sugar, good for cholesterol, whole wheat, the usual shit people ask for with their health garbage.

"My, my, you really are taking this seriously."

"Huh?"

Dawn pointed to Helga's cart, filled with an assortment of fruits, veggies, fish and eggs, etc, "I've never seen you in here with more than a basket and that's usually for beer."

"Well, that's on my list."

Dawn rolled her blue eyes, "Adorable. Point being, you've never bought me so much as a drink when we dated."

"Fucked," Helga corrected her, "And you seemed pretty content with my piss."

The sheep's cheeks flushed red as she put her head down and whispered, "That was one time, and I was drunk, horny, and willing to experiment."

Helga grinned, "Not anymore? Has married life with Harper been dry ever since the little ankle-biters came in?"

"We've found what we like. And you'd be amazed at how much better it can be when you have to hold it off every now and then."

She was going to disagree, but then she remembered Amethyst's desperate face last morning, "I'd believe it," Helga grabbed a box of cheap beer off the isle, "I've had her locked up for about a week."

"Oh?" a devilish grin took shape across Dawn's face, "So, what can you tell me about this mystery pet of yours?"

"That she's mine and has potential."

Dawn bumped her cart against Helga's, rattling the contents of both, "Oh come on, Helga. Everyone's been in the dark for too long. You haven't even shared a picture."

"That's because," Helga said as she pushed the cart away, "I'm not introducing her until I know we're ready."

"You're buying food for two, how is that not ready?"

"It's..." Helga scratched her head, "It's a thing. That's all."

"I could always just ask Tom. You two always share details." she said with a huff.

"Tom's not a gossip."

"I could ask Franny."

"Tom won't let Franny gossip."

"You have to give me something!" she whined as they reached the self checkout, "I wanna have at least something for my imagination."

"Don't you have Harper for that?"

"Just because I'm married doesn't mean my mind is tied down. Harper understands. So come on, give me something juicy."

Dawn wasn't going to shut up. Helga knew this because she had a habit of shoving a gag in the sheep's mouth whenever they fucked. Her self proclaimed 'gift of gab' was one of the many reasons Helga wasn't sad when they decided to not share a bed anymore. The pig should just walk away and let her friend metaphorically blue balled.

But she also loved to brag.

Helga grinned, "She'll be meeting Betty tonight."

"Betty?" Dawn's eyes widened, "You're bringing Betty?"

Helga nodded, "She's ready."

The sheep caressed her tush, "Poor girl doesn't know what she signed up for."

Helga shrugged before she grabbed her groceries, "No, but I made sure she's ready."

***

Who's Betty?

That thought echoed throughout Amethyst's mind since yesterday morning. Her fingers twirled a black mechanical pencil as her art history teacher lectured on, the bear's accent so thick she only got the third or fourth word of every sentence. At this point, she only came to class for attendance. Most of her studying was from reading than class notes.

She said she doesn't have others anymore.

Peaking over to the slides, the vole saw that today's subject was theatre masks in ancient Greece. Apparently, masks were what allowed actors to portray a character, rather than just simply act. The mask made you someone else, like her hood.

_Maybe she's not a sub. _

She shook her head, snapping herself of any erotic thoughts. With the belt still blocking her, any new thoughts would only add to the floodgate of frustration building up. Helga promised to take if off today, and that promise is what led Amethyst to check the clock on her phone every five or so minutes.

Is she...sharing me?

It was growing harder to push that idea out of her mind. The two inch wide plug in her ass didn't help. Helga had never expressed sharing her, but Amy had seen the pictures in the album and stories along with it. She heard of the double-teaming she'd done to subs before, or how some parties submissives were passed around like toys. Did she want that? The gnawing at her lip didn't dismiss it, but what she found hot and what she found right were two different things.

She smirked at herself for that. She was living as an older woman's would-be gimp. If there was a line, she most definitely crossed it. Still, she knew that Helga respected the safeword, so she would stop if Amethyst didn't want it.

But does she want to share me?

The beeping of the teacher's own phone brought her back to reality. Students were already packing up and moving on. As she followed suit, her phone pinged a text message.

"Class done?" from Helga, "I'm in the parking lot. Waiting on you."

Now? Amethyst raised her finger to type something back, but a phone call from her mother stopped her. She let her phone vibrate while she thought about Helga's message. What was so important that she had to get picked up? The vole was perfectly able to drive her Kia, and she had her keys this time. Sighing as the message went to voicemail, she put her phone in her purse and headed outside. The autumn winds were a quick reminder that she shouldn't have forgotten her jacket back at Helga's, walking through with her Misfits tee, designer ripped jeans with a studded belt, and leather boots with a high heel.

Clutching her arms close, she made her way to the parking lot to find Helga leaning against her black Indian motorcycle. The older woman's leather jacket looked like armor to the vole, matching the gritty look from the leather workboots and dark jeans the pig wore.

Her mistress smiled, "You ready?" she asked while tossing a full covering bike helmet to Amethyst without warning. The vole almost dropped the orange helm, catching it a foot away from the ground.

Lodging the helmet between her arms, the vole asked, "Ready for what?"

"Well, we got an errand to run. Then, I'll introduce you to Betty." The pig said as she sat on her bike. Helga turned around with a finger pointed and asked, "You don't have any big assignments or anything due soon, right? Nothing to study for?"

She had a Physed test but Amethyst wasn't worried about that, "No, but I can I ask you something?"

"Sure, best now then on the bike," Helga reasoned as she leaned from her bike, "What's eatin ya?"

"You...you wouldn't share me with someone, without asking, right Mama?"

Helga raised a brow at the question, "No? You don't have a collar yet," she snorted. Looking at Amethyst's expression, the pig straightened up, "No, I wouldn't share you with others without asking. Why do you ask?"

Are you serious?

"Then, who's Betty?"

Helga sighed as she got off the bike. The older pig's stocky form towered over the beanpole vole, casting a shadow with her dominance.

"Do you trust me?"

Amethyst blinked, "What? Of course, I do. Why else would I be wearing a chastity belt?"

Helga lifted Amethyst's eyes to hers, "Do you trust me?"

The vole swallowed as she looked deep into her dominant's green eyes. There was no anger, nothing that made her shiver like she had done something wrong. "Yes, Mama."

"Then don't worry about Betty," Helga ruffled the vole's hair, "she's a surprise."

"But-"

"Ah," the pig put a finger to Amethyst's mouth, "No more buts. We've already wasted enough time." She looked over the vole one more time, "Where's your jacket?"

"I forgot it at your place."

The porcine woman rolled her eyes as she took her jacket off, revealing the chains and sword piercing a skull tattoo on her right arm, and the thorns enveloping a skull on her left. "Put this on," she handed her jacket to Amethyst, "And lean in whenever I turn."

The plug nestled in her ass was the least of her concerns as Amethyst held on for dear life. She'd seen people rid backseat on cycles before, but she was starting to question their sanity. Her only protection from the wind was Helga, the jacket, and her helmet. The gusts were the most constant noise above the roar of the engine. The vole didn't even need to hear the engine. Instead, she felt the vibration humming through her body.

Her grip around Helga's waist tightened. This would have been exciting if not terrifying.

Legs were shaking when they finally parked. Her hands were bracing Helga's shoulders for support as she struggled to stand still. Her dominant chuckled as she turned off the ignition, "Did my bitch like riding bitch?"

"What?" Amethyst shouted more than spoke. The vole covered her mouth immediately, ears flopped as she looked to see if anyone else noticed her unadjusted volume.

Helga's chuckle turned to laughter. She pointed to the back seat of the bike and said, "This is called the bitch seat," she pressed a fat finger between Amethyst's breasts and leaned in, "Bitch." she teased. Blushing, the vole turned to see where they parked.

Several stores and banks littered the roadside, with busy traffic and slow lights covering the actual road. The grey and cracked lot had only Helga's bike, though if Amethyst had to guess there was definitely more parking in the back of the buildings. The store in front of them was unassuming aside from how black the paint was, and the tinted windows that had the writing The Leather Den painted in red.

"This a sextoy shop?"

"Yep."

"Oh, ok-wait what?"

Helga pushed her vole along, "Technically it's called an adult toystore or some shit, but this is where I go to get my gear. Tom gives me a discount."

"Tom?"

"My ex. You might like him."

Amethyst stopped at the door, "Him? I thought you were gay?"

"I am. I've also been on this earth longer than you and didn't grow up in this lovely little thinskinned but thankfully accepting culture. So yeah, I used to fuck dudes. Now can you stop asking questions and get on in. I don't like to keep friends waiting."

A simple metal bell rang as Helga pushed open the tinted glass door. It only took one look for Amethyst to reassure herself that this was indeed a sex shop. Couldn't have been more obvious with the gimp mask over the model head, the wall of dildos, another wall of S&M gear, and several stands of DVDs and VHS's that she had to assume were porn.

The VHS's probably didn't sell well anymore.

A tall ocelot stood alone at the counter, filing at his claws with more interest than any new customers. At a glance, Amethyst noticed that he was wearing only a leather vest and a thick black collar, though the black counter hid anything from below the belt. She shifted her view to the rest of the store as the ocelot nonchalantly turned his gaze to them, catching the faintest glimpse of his blue eyes before focusing on a wall of gags and restraints.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the definition of butch," the ocelot's tone carried a friendly demeanor despite the insults, "And," he pointed to the vole, "did she finally bring along the bitch I've heard so little about?"

Helga's heavy hand patted against Amethyst's back, "Amethyst, meet Frank. Frank, Amethyst."

"It's Franny, honey," the ocelot corrected as he waved to Amethyst, "Is that really her? I was expecting someone a little more, femme, to make you a matching set."

Amethyst gave him the middle finger before Helga could respond. The ocelot just smiled and stuck out his tongue, "Guess you needed someone on your level, Helga."

A heavy laugh came from the pig, followed by another heavy handed pat against the vole's back. The impact nearly tossed her to the floor, but luckily Helga caught her by the scruff of her jacket.

"Seems pretty fragile," Franny commented as Helga helped Amethyst stand, "Tom's in the back."

Helga smirked, "Where else would he be if he's not fucking your loose ass," she said, holding Amethyst put before walking off, "Play nice with Franny. Tom filled down everything but his bitch's tongue so it's all he really has."

She nodded as the pig walked off. Taking a deep breath through her nostrils, she exhaled as she tried to count out the types of gear she saw. Amethyst had never actually been in a sex shop before, having always bought her toys online through prepaid gift cards so her mother never noticed. The smell of leather and latex was overpowering, reminding the vole of Helga's own basement dungeon. She took another breath at the memory, this one haggard as she subconsciously reached for the belt under her jeans. This was the last day of this accursed prison.

"First time?" Franny asked, holding his head in both hands as he rested against the counter while watching the vole. His tail playfully curled behind him, while his eyes stared down at her like a different kind of predator.

She nodded, which got a clap out of him, "Really? Well if you're nervous I know how to fix that. Just ask me a question, and after I answer I'll ask you. Sound fun?"

It sounded like a good way to kill a few seconds, so she nodded.

"Great. Ask away."

"How long have Helga and Tom known each other?"

Franny sighed, "Longer than I've known Tom. Back when being out and proud wasn't so 'socially acceptable' they used to date, pretty sure Tom got Helga into the whole biker life. Long story short, they realized that neither was really straight and decided to be each other's beards for a while until they officially broke it off. Probably some of the most amicable ex's I've ever known," he stuck his tongue out, "Almost makes me wanna hurl with how well it works."

Amethyst took a peek at the backroom door as he talked, curious to what exactly transpired behind the black wooden entrance.

"So, Amethyst, is that your real name or is it some stage name for some ear-piercing cover band? Oh, is it a stripper name?"

"No, no, and no. Tom got Helga into biking?"

Franny rolled his eyes, "Jeez, you could answer better," he muttered, "Yeah, he introduced her to the culture. Though after they officially broke up Helga went off to form her own little gang, can't remember the actual name but it had something to do with valkyries or something you'd find in metal lyrics."

"Why?"

Franny shrugged, "Hell if I know. They never let Tom 'officially' join but he's pretty much an honorary member, which makes me his plus one. But you're more likely to see them hang around a bar or someone else's place than riding the highway and causing a ruckus. Turns out having a real job takes time out of people's weekends."

"Now," he leaned in closer from his countertop with a chesire grin across his face, "On a scale of one to ten, how bad does Helga smell down there? I can't imagine she takes proper care of it."

Amethyst answered with a scowl and another middle finger. Franny rolled his eyes and leaned back, "Leave it to the dyke to find another crude bitch."

The backdoor opened before she could respond. "Hey, cunt, we're ready for ya so get your ass in here." Helga shouted from across the store. Franny's smile at Helga's call felt more embarrassing than if Helga had shouted that across a public restaurant. Ducking her head, she imagined Franny waving her off as she skedaddled across the store in her black leather heeled boots.

Helga grabbed her vole by her shirt collar and dragged her in when she reached the door. After it slammed shut, Amethyst felt her Mistress's thick grip against her ass as she was turned to face a wide raccoon with a greying beard. The raccoon's eyes were hidden by the light bouncing off his round glasses. She noticed wrinkles across his face, while his arms carried more toned muscle than his aged face would suggest. Unlike Helga or Franny, he didn't wear any leather, or anything remotely fetishistic, instead opting for a collared long sleeve black and blue plaid shirt and light jeans that she noticed from what she saw of his sneakers under the desk. The biggest feature she saw was a necklace of small keys around his neck, a more full version of the key Helga wore around hers.

The raccoon extended his hand, "You must be Amethyst, I've heard so much about you."

"Yes, I can't say the same about you, Tom is it?" she asked, meeting his hand. Despite the callouses and roughness of the raccoon's hand, his grip was soft. Looking over his face, she was reminded of warmth exuded from a mall Santa. Maybe he played the role from time to time.

Tom nodded, "Yes, though I'm not surprised. Helga doesn't like to share too much if she's not sure. Though I imagine she's getting there." he peered over to the pig, "Right?"

Helga flushed a little and turned her head away, "So, you got it ready?" she asked aloud while focusing on a picture of a feral cat hanging desperately from a branch.

"Yeah, it's in the back. Give me a second." he said as he headed out the back door.

"Strip and present yourself," Helga ordered as soon as Tom left. Amethyst didn't question her mistress, carefully taking off Helga's leather jacket and handing it to her before discarding with the rest of her clothes. Soon the vole was standing with her chest out, hands behind her back, and naked except for the chastity belt.

The porcine's thick hands fondled the vole when she was finished, tightly rubbing against every nook of Amethyst's exposure. "Good girl," she whispered, her hands massaging the vole's breasts, "Mama was expecting some hesitation. Why didn't you?"

"We're indoors, Mama," Amethyst answered in the midst of the teasing, "And you trust Tom."

"That's true, I do," she replied as she pinched the vole's nipples, elating a soft squeak from her, "But you just met him. What if it was someone I didn't know? Would you still follow?"

The vole kept a tight grip on her hands so Helga could keep toying with her body, "Yes, Mama."

"And why's that, cunt?"

"Because you'd be there," she answered, biting her lip as Helga twisted her nipples.

"And I wouldn't let anything bad happen to my personal cuntlicker, would I?"

Amethyst shook her head, "No, Mama."

"That's a good girl," Helga cooed as she squeezed each nipple between a finger, "I can't wait to pierce these. What would you suggest, bitch?"

"Rings, Mama."

The pig kissed hard against the vole's neck, leaving a hickey, "I do love rings. So many ways to play with them."

"Ahem."

Helga and Amethyst stopped their play to see Tom standing back behind his desk with a black bag in his hand, "While I always love a good show, I think we should speed this along. Now get naked."

The pig and the vole blinked, "She is naked."

Tom pointed to the belt, "That needs to come off."

"Seriously?" Helga grabbed the belt, "This thing is super thin, and it even leaves her ass open. Look," she turned Amethyst around to parade her ass like a piece of meat. Not that the vole seemed to mind.

"You can put back on over it. Now quit whining and get her naked."

"Was saving this for tonight," Helga mumbled as she pulled off her keyring necklace. Amethyst's blue eyes followed in suspense as her mistress plugged the key into the lock and turned. Like every night before they went to bed, the vole got to feel freedom from her stainless steel prison. Except this time there was no edging, no damned gooning before the belt was locked around her again. The warm office air braced against her now bare crotch, her folds twitching at the sensation as Helga had Amethyst lift her leg to get the belt off. Her privacy was fully cast aside at the demands of her mistress and her friend, and they treated it so casually.

She smiled in her humiliation. If this was life as a slave, as Helga's slave, then the vole had found her bliss.

Tom handed the bag over to Helga, "There's a dressing room in the back, down the hall on the right. Don't fuck in it."

"Right," Helga said with a wink. Tom's warm expression turned sour for a second, "What? It's not like you're cleaning it." she responded.

"Don't. Fuck. In. It." He repeated.

"Fine, fine," Helga relented, "Wasn't going to anyway," she slapped across Amethyst's rump, "We have a better place for that, tonight."

Amethyst kept her arms clasped behind her as Helga pushed her forward. Held by the scruff of her hair, the vole couldn't help but smile as her porcine mistress directed her along like a prisoner. Reaching the room, the two found several stalls akin to what they'd find in a clothing store. Once inside, Amethyst took note of the tall mirror stuck to the wall, the tiny bench built into the stall, and the few hooks to hang items.

Helga propped her vole in front of the mirror. Shifting through the bag, the pig smiled as she pulled out a pair of black elbow-length gloves, a shiny black bodysuit with studded areas around the breasts and crotch that looked removable, a pair of thigh-length black buckle style boots, and a full head mask.

The vole's heart pumped wild as she watched Helga inspect the gear from the reflection. Her mistress seemed confused but satisfied with the clothing. Amethyst shifted her gaze to herself as Helga turned to her.

"Arms out."

She followed, as with every order as Helga slowly strapped the gear over Amethyst. It wasn't all leather, and it was tighter than the suit she wore during their first session, but with every piece tied in, Amethyst felt more relaxed. In the stiffness of the leather, the vole felt freer than she had been in her own fur. As Helga enveloped the hood over the vole's head, she felt her worries dissipate.

The breath of her mistress fluttered the vole's heart as she whispered, "Take a look and tell me what you see."

The vole gazed into the mirror and was stunned. She'd looked at her reflection in the hood back at Helga's, seeing the object she was happy to be. But this hood shaped with her head better. It still hid who she was, but she could see herself more clearly. The suit didn't cover her whole body like the other, gaps between her gloves and boots revealed the soft brown fur of the vole underneath. Yet, it didn't ruin the effect. The old suit hid her from the world, letting her out in every sense of the word. Wearing just the hood let gave her a sense of that, if only because putting the whole suit on alone was a hassle.

But this suit exposed and hid her. Touching the leather pads over her breasts, she toyed with the studded buttons that allowed it to cling over her breasts. So easily they could be exposed, and she'd welcome it.

"I see...an object, Mama."

"Really?" Helga grabbed the vole's chin and pointed her back to the mirror, her own head hovering over the shoulder, "Because I see a slut. A desperate little whore who dreams of a hand around her throat," Helga wrapped her arm around the vole's neck, "while she's fucked by someone who doesn't give a fuck about her pleasure."

The pig started to grind against the vole's leather-covered ass, "Because she loves it. She craves that abuse and wants a firm hand across her face every day to remind her just how much of a pathetic little cuntlicker she is. Under all that desperation, I see someone who's been so pent up for so long that they're ready to pop. Someone just begging to be themselves."

The vole's breath fogged the mirror as her arousal flourished. She felt Helga nipple on her ear before she continued, in a soft whisper, "But under that, I see someone with the most beautiful smile. Someone that makes me feel lucky whenever I wake up and she's in my arms. I see you, Amy. And tonight I'm going to make you mine."

As soon as Helga's grip loosened, she was on the pig. She forced her tongue into the older woman's maw, forcing her own need down her mistress's throat. She couldn't take it anymore, praying for the leather pad over her crotch to break off as she grinded against Helga's pantleg.

"Ah, ah, ah," Helga cooed as she pulled her sub off, "Not here, cunt. I love the enthusiasm, but I have plans tonight and I need you all hot and bothered for that. Now, let's take these off so we can get going."

Amethyst stopped Helga's hand from reaching the buckles, "Seems like an awful lot of work to just take this off and put it back on again, Mama. Maybe I could," she hugged the hand and looked up to the older woman's fiery green eyes. Pouting her lips through the hood, the vole crossed her legs and bent herself to show off how the leather formed around her waist, "walk out in it? Save us the trouble of putting it back on."

For what may have been the first time since the vole knew Helga, she saw flush form across the pig's cheeks as shock filled her eyes. A confident and oh so sadistic smile etched across her face, sending pleasurable chills down the vole's leather covered form.

A high, practically giddy, laugh escaped Helga's lips as she grabbed her leather vole's face and shoved her against the stall wall. Faces inches apart, the swine's heavy breathing matched the rhythm of the vole's heartbeat. Amethyst expected her to ravish the vole's mouth, she practically begged for it with her open smile.

Helga took a deep breath, and let the vole go. Sorting through the bag, she pulled out the belt she had freed Amethyst from earlier. Her smile was still present as she turned, belt in hand, but it was more subdued. Rather, the look of someone proud rather than someone filled with need.

"You really have no shame, do you?" she teased, opening the belt to make sure it was ready, "But don't worry, Mama lost hers a while back. I'm sure Tom has a spare pair of sweatpants around."

***

The ride to the Leather Den was one of the more terrifying experiences of her life. The ride back to Helga's was one of the most exhilarating. Hidden behind the face covering biker helm, large leather jacket, and grey sweatpants was a slutty gimped up vole riding along with her mistress. Amethyst considered flipping the visor at neighboring cars whenever they hit a redlight, to give them a little hint of what was really sitting on the btich seat. But this was her second time on a motorcycle, so her arms never left Mama Helga's waist.

Once the garage door closed, Helga pulled Amethyst in so fast that the vole dropped her helmet. Calloused hands hastily pulled off the jacket, flinging it over the bike in lustful frenzy as Helga propped the vole onto a nearby counter. Tools fell to the concrete floor as she removed the grey sweats, revealing the belt trapping the vole's privates and thigh high boots that wrapped themselves oh so tightly around her legs. Amethyst eyed the key around Helga's neck, waiting to see her strong hands wrap around it to unlock her needy privates.

That didn't happen. Helga pulled her from the counter and gave a firm slap across her exposed ass.

"March, little cunt," Helga ordered, gripping the vole's scalp tight and pushing her forward. Directed down to the dungeon, Amethysts new boots clacked against the wooden stairs as she descended into their playpen. Pushed to her knees at the floor, Amethyst rested both hands behind her head like she was getting arrested as Helga let go. She puffed her chest out and waited, like she had been taught in when in Helga's care.

Helga hung straps from hooks in the ceiling, each close enough to form a small indoor hammock of sorts. With a wave of her hand, Amethyst was front in center before her, only to be picked up and laid out against the indoor swing. Her legs were lifted and spread wide, giving an open view of her holes, and the belt blocking one of them, down below as Helga locked her ankles above her.

"Mama," Amethyst tilted her head back to get a look at the bindings around her ankles, "I can't take the belt off this way."

"I'm not taking the belt off."

"What? But you said-"

A heavy but playful slap across her ass interrupted her. Helga pulled the vole in by the back of her neck and smiled, "Oh, I'm taking it off. After our little session. Remember, you're an anal only slut until I wrap a collar around you."

After restraining Amethyst's hands above her, Helga took out the blindfold attachment for the new hood and clipped it over. She smiled under her hood, opening her mouth to comment only for a hole filled ballgag to be shoved in.

"Comfortable? Nothing giving any cramps?" Helga asked with sincerity as she playfully pushed the vole. Amethyst shook her head, her fingers playfully twitching as she tried to gain some semblance of space.

"Good. Now you just stay right here while Mama gets everything ready."

Helga never left the room, at least that's what the vole assumed since she didn't hear any steps on the stairs. She heard that if you take away one sense, the others grow stronger. Having been blindfolded before, the vole started to believe there was truth to that. While her hearing didn't become superhuman, her sense of touch grew more noticable. Every breath she took was a struggle against the tight leather around her body. Saliva coated the plastic gag as her tongue ran against it, feeling over the holes that let more air come through.

Then there was the plug. The big, black, silicone plug that Helga replaced with a bigger size almost every day. She could feel it filling her as she hung, blissfully frozen in her ass for anyone down here to see. The vole wondered if she could force it out.

Would she even want to?

Music started to play from the corner of the room. Heavy guitars with a mixture of modern tones bounced off the walls. The singer sounded familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint the song lyrics.

"I did a little digging," Helga said as her hand gripped the plug, "Figured you'd like some of your kind of music in this. This song was just too obvious to not use."

Soft whimpers escaped the vole as the plug was pulled from her hole. Helga shoved it back in quickly, getting a gagged squeal, before pulling out completely. The vole's tail hole gaped open, returning the feeling of emptiness to the bound girl.

"Remember your first time here? How tight this little hole was when I fucked you?" Helga teased as she pressed two fingers inside. The vole took soft nasal puffs as her mistress pushed a third finger in without resistance.

"Now look at it. A little over a week and I can fit three fingers without lube. Nice and loose, like a buttslut should be. My buttslut."

The vole cried out through her gag as Helga pulled her fingers out. With a snort, the pig patted the girl's ass and she said, "Don't worry. Mama's gonna fill you up nice and good tonight."

There was the splurt, something from a bottle. Helga's fingers pressed against the vole's loose hole, only this time with something cold enough to make her spine shiver and her asshole tighten. Soft cooing from Helga let her relax again. With both rough hands on the vole's hips, she felt something press against her hole. Something that started to spread her wider than any plug.

"Just relax, my little cunt," Helga murmured, "relax and show Mama that all that training has paid off."

She inhaled as the toy pushed further into her. Teeth pressing against her gag, the vole exhaled and focused on the background noises. The squishing of the toy in her ass, the straining of her limbs against the bonds, and the music playing in the background vibrated throughout her as she centered on the lyrics.

Yeah it's okay, dominate me

Teach me not to misbehave

I can be your slave

Helga's hips hit against the vole as the second verse started. Steady but haggard breaths pushed through the holes in her gag as the vole hung there, letting her ass accommodate the massive toy inside her. So much of her body screamed to push it out, to get away from this unnatural full feeling.

Those screams were silenced as Helga's words reached her, "Good girl."

Strong grips on her sides, the vole felt the toy slowly pulled out and pushed in again, never vacating her bowels as Helga slowly fucked her hanging gimp. She hung her head back with the thrusts, losing herself in the build up behind her covered snatch.

"I knew you were an anal slut," the pig snorted as she upped her tempo, "And if you weren't before, Betty sure proves otherwise. Most people beg me to stop after halfway, but you just buckled down and let her slide on in."

The pig's hand brushed against a leather covered cheek, "You know, I bet I could keep you like this. All gimped up and locked away in my basement. Just need to give you a little mat and a bucket and you could move on in. And every day I'd come down to abuse my hooded cunt until sunrise." Helga pulled the gag off, "Would you like that, Amy? Would you like to be my basement gimp?"

"H-harder," the vole whimpered, "Harder!"

The thrusts turned to pounds as Manowar hit the playlist. The pig's hands dug into the leather as the vole began to swing with every fuck. Moans, squeaks, and screams escaped the gimp's lips as her pleasure built up. She was close, just like on her first day she was ready to burst and Helga hadn't touched her pussy once.

"I'm not letting you go now, Amy. I'm making this little move in permanent, and I got the perfect collar to wrap around your throat," The thrusts stopped and Helga pulled the vole closer by the hanging gag around her neck, "Your training isn't over, but you've earned your collar, slave."

"Ma-" the vole was silenced as Helga forced her tongue inside. The pounding sped up again, while the pig's warm breath and heavy tongue pushed the vole's into submission. She was so close. No more stress, no more worries about appearances. The vole was Helga's now, and all she needed was to climax to seal it.

A doorbell rang. Helga ignored it as she plowed through. It rang again, and she ignored it. By the third bell, she growled and let go of Amethyst, pulling Betty out in the process.

"Goddamn motherfuckers can't take a goddamn hint," she grumbled as another bell rang. The vole squealed as a heavy hand smacked against her belt, "Hang tight, slut. Mama needs to go tell someone to fuck off."

The vole let her head hang back as Helga headed up the stairs. Her asshole gaped open, begging to be filled as she smiled under her hood. This was better than any goddamn trophy.

***

"What kind of stupid jackass," Helga mumbled to herself as she haphazardly detached Betty from her waist. The big purple dildo flopped to the floor, splattering a mixture of lube and Amy's juices against the wooden finish before Helga crossed over her carpeted living room.

"Whenever I'm having a good time. Whenever I need my goddamn privacy, there's always some stupid ingrate who comes by. It's the goddamn middle of the fucking night, people have shit they wanna do."

She briefly considered picking up a bat, but the pig felt that if violence did happen then Helga would hand to feel her hands wrap around the throat of whatever moron decided to bother her. Reading the door, the pig's grip nearly ripped the knob as another bell rang.

"What?!" she roared at whoever stood in her front yard, "What the fuck do you want?"

"I want," a soft brown furred vole dressed in a midnight blue business suit with a skirt instead of pants looked up to Helga with stern if aged indigo eyes. Blonde hair tied into a ponytail hung from the vole's head, with arms crossed and black heels tapping rapidly as Helga's own heart froze at the realization.

"To see my daughter."