The Chef
Copyright© 2025 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 13: Hoping in Wonder Woman
Mistress Celeste assisted Yvette with her restraints shortly after we returned from breakfast and got dressed. She came to our room to share that the day’s agenda had changed. Unfortunately, we had lost another couple the previous night.
But, the two remaining couples, particularly the women, had excelled during yesterday’s activities. These activities included a variety of challenges aimed at testing their limits and deepening their connections with their partners. To include being hogtied, blindfolded, and locked in ball-gags for part of the evening.
Much of the original agenda was intended to help the women continue to adjust. Still, the Mistresses felt they could move faster in their training. So, they decided to revise the day’s schedule and would announce the changes at breakfast in about thirty minutes.
Mistress Celeste outlined the new events to us, which would focus on intimacy and restraint, including activities in the bedroom. And with the loss of two couples, the Mistresses wanted to know if we were interested in participating in today’s bedroom-related activities.
Yvette smiled at me.
“I’d be okay with that, as long as it’s behind closed doors,” she said. “I don’t want to participate in any group activities.”
She paused, looking a bit embarrassed thinking about yesterday evening. “I was fine with being hogtied last night and with the activities originally planned for today, but I’d prefer to avoid any group activities that focus on intimacy.”
Mistress Celeste nodded, a smile on her face. “There will be some activities like yesterday, but those focused on intimacy will be private sessions with Mistress L and me. The other couples will be in their own rooms and won’t even know you’re participating.”
With a warm smile, she added, “The sisters are both dominatrices; their specialty lies in events like this alongside private sessions, helping couples fulfill their potential. As they hinted at Sassy, they occasionally train other doms. Still, those opportunities are rare and by invitation only.”
She chuckled lightly. “I think the idea of anything even resembling Studio 54 would be appalling to them.”
Yvette chuckled lightly, but her expression soon turned serious.
“There’s one other thing: I just can’t be restrained to the bed, wall, or anything else,” she said, her anxiety evident. “I—I just can’t be attached to anything. But aside from that, I’m open to trying new things.”
I watched as Yvette’s anxiety skyrocketed within seconds. The mere thought of being handcuffed to the bed or tied to anything caused her to start breathing heavily. I gently held her.
Yvette was clearly having a panic attack, transported back to the courthouse, sitting on that bench. I glanced at Mistress Celeste, my expression conveying a sense of urgency that she couldn’t misinterpret.
Mistress Celeste leaned in and whispered, “What helps her when she’s like this?”
Then she added, “What can I do to help?”
I whispered back, “The jacket, the leather cuffs, and the muzzle.”
Michelle nodded thoughtfully.
“A forced frogtie?” she asked, maintaining a whisper.
I nodded.
“Yes,” I replied quietly, then asked, “Did you bring anything like that?”
Mistress Celeste shook her head.
“No,” she said. “But I’ll tell the sisters what’s going on. They’re understanding and know what it’s like ... especially Liora.”
She gently sat Yvette down on the bed.
“I understand,” she said soothingly. “I would never allow anything like that to happen to you. I saw the concern in your eyes when you first saw our bed at the studio. It was clear that the hardware on it made you anxious.”
She continued calmly, “For me, it’s being blindfolded. Just thinking about it—and putting the women in them—I didn’t show it, but I really struggled with it.”
I noticed Mistress Celeste shiver slightly.
“We all have our limits, and that’s okay.”
Yvette nodded and exhaled deeply.
“Thanks,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. It just freaks me out so badly.”
“Like I was just telling Ben—I know you overheard us—I’ll inform Mistress L that you can’t be restrained to the bed or anything else,” Mistress Celeste explained, gently placing her hand on Yvette’s cheek.
“We both love you. We’d never hurt you. And I’ll be the one restraining you, so I’ll be able to sense if you’re not comfortable.”
She then emphasized, “But you need to tell me if anything makes you uneasy or causes you anxiety or stress.”
Yvette nodded, her expression much calmer.
In a quiet voice, she said, “Okay. I feel safe with you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me. That’s why I agreed to help this weekend—because I knew you would be the one touching me.”
Mistress Celeste, deeply moved by Yvette’s words, smiled warmly and embraced her gently.
“Sebastian and I never had children,” she confided softly. “It wasn’t him—it was me. I was terrified of having a child like myself. I just couldn’t bear it.”
Taking a deep breath, she added, “So, meeting the two of you has been a blessing. You both feel like my own.”
Mistress Celeste then turned to Yvette, giving her a reassuring hug. “Why don’t you both stay here and rest? I’ll come up later to check on you.”
“No,” Yvette replied. “I’m okay. Really—I’m fine.”
With a playful smile, she added, “Besides, I think Harlot and Vixen might miss Yvette not standing near them in her bracelets and punishment chains. Yvette gives them comfort. At least it makes them feel better that they’re not as chained up as I am.”
Mistress Celeste smiled.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think you’re right.”
She then added, “Last night, while we were helping Harlot settle for the evening, she asked Mistress L how many years you had been kept in restraints because you seemed perfectly comfortable in them. She seemed to think that it came completely natural for you. That you liked being ‘kept.’”
She continued, “She was a bit awed by your ability to walk in those heels with your wrists chained to your waist. She mentioned feeling like she’s putting on a show for everyone, especially with how much her hips sway in heels when her hands are cuffed.”
Smiling warmly at Yvette, she added, “She asked if she would eventually be able to walk as well as you, and if she’d ever feel so comfortable in handcuffs that she wouldn’t even realize that she was in them.”
Yvette chuckled softly to herself. “What was she told?”
Mistress Celeste smiled as she recalled their conversation. “Being restrained comes naturally to you. Your body is designed for bondage, both physically and mentally. Because of this, the only way for you to truly feel free—and, more importantly, safe—is to be kept restrained.”
She continued, “Mistress L explained that some people find a sense of liberation in surrendering control, and for you, it seems to create a profound connection with your own boundaries and desires.”
Gently caressing Yvette’s cheek again, she added, “I know this isn’t a surprise to you. Deep down, you know this. You were meant to be submissive, bound. That’s when you seem to be the happiest.”
Mistress Celeste’s voice softened, conveying a deep sense of understanding and acceptance. “Embracing that part of yourself can be empowering, and it’s okay to acknowledge it. It’s okay to accept it. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
She looked into Yvette’s eyes, reassuring her that recognizing her desires and boundaries was a valid part of her identity, one that could lead to greater self-awareness and fulfillment.
“And this includes having limits,” she stated gently. “Knowing what feels right for you and what doesn’t is just as important as exploring those desires. It’s all part of the journey.”
We headed downstairs, and as promised, Mistress Seraphine explained the agenda changes to the couples, who seemed receptive.
Vixen had some questions about being restrained in the bedroom, as her experiences so far had only involved handcuffs the night before and the leather cuffs from last night. Harlot, on the other hand, remained quiet, seemingly absorbing everything around her and processing the information in her own way.
The rest of the day unfolded as outlined at breakfast, featuring activities designed to deepen connections and explore boundaries. Mistress Liora led a session that morning centered on the use of a leash designed to foster a deep level of trust between the couples.
The submissives—the women—felt safe and secure with their partners, allowing them to explore their vulnerabilities in a safe environment. This enabled them to express their desires and boundaries freely, fostering deeper emotional connections and heightening their overall experience.
Right after lunch, the private sessions began. As Mistresses Liora and Celeste escorted Harlot and her partner to their room, Yvette and I remained in the common area with the other couple. I engaged in small talk with what I found out was Vixen’s boyfriend while the girls spoke softly, just above a whisper. Their conversation was intimate, and I could only catch snippets of their discussion.
“Are you really only willing to embrace this if he marries you?” Yvette asked, raising an eyebrow.
After a moment’s contemplation, she added, “But the bond you’ll share after your experiences this weekend—and even afterward—will be so profound that marriage won’t even matter.”
“You’re right,” Vixen replied. “But what if I fully embrace this lifestyle? What if I become so accustomed to being bound that I feel a constant need for restraints? What if they become the only way I feel safe and secure? If intimacy relies on bondage, how will I ever feel fulfilled without it?”
She paused as she considered the implications. “I worry that I might lose the ability to connect without those physical boundaries.”
I could see that her mind was racing. “What if I get physically rewired for it? I mean, it’s already happening. This morning, I just turned around and put my hands behind my back. I didn’t even wait to see how Mistress C wanted me. I didn’t even think about it.”
Her eyes widened with realization and concern. “It’s like my body is starting to anticipate this dynamic without me even consciously choosing it. What if I lose the ability to interact normally, to be spontaneous? What if this becomes my default state?”
She then added, “And let’s not even get started on the physical repercussions. Imagine me realizing one day that I can’t go without pantyhose or that I can no longer walk in anything less than five-inch heels because my feet are essentially crippled—like the practice of foot binding. Here I am sitting with you right now in this tight skirt, fitted shirt, hose, and stilettos. My hands are forced behind my back with these bracelets, and the crazy thing is, I often forget I’m dressed this way—not to mention that I call handcuffs ‘bracelets.’ I lose track of the fact that my hands are restrained until something reminds me—like when I struggled with the leash earlier. I had to consciously remind myself that I was in these stilettos with my hands cuffed behind me.”
I watched Yvette’s reaction as she absorbed everything Vixen was sharing. She remained silent, creating a space for Vixen to express her thoughts fully.
Yvette’s calm demeanor encouraged Vixen to continue, letting her voice the concerns swirling in her mind without interruption. It was clear that Yvette was processing the complexity of the conversation, carefully considering each point as Vixen navigated her feelings.
Sighing heavily, Vixen continued, “What if all of that happens, and he decides to leave? What are the chances I’d find someone who loves me for who I am—not just someone with a bondage fetish or who wants a woman who dresses like a Barbie doll? I’d just end up as an object or a trophy.”
Her voice trembled with vulnerability as she laid bare her fears. “I don’t want to lose my sense of self in this. I want to be valued for more than just my appearance or what I can offer in a scene.”
The weight of her concerns hung in the air, revealing the deep conflict.
Turning her gaze back to Yvette, Vixen said earnestly, “So yes, I’m only willing to go through with this if he marries me. At least then, if it all falls apart...”
Her voice trembled as tears welled in her eyes. “I’ll have financial security and some semblance of a life. I’m just a girl from the Midwest who barely graduated high school, and the only thing going for me is that I’m pretty. I found a nice guy with money who loves me. And I really, really love him, even with his quirks and his need to keep me like this.”
She crossed her legs, staring down at her pantyhose-clad leg and stiletto heel, grimacing as she adjusted her hands in the handcuffs. “I’m willing to embrace his needs. But I need to ensure I’ll be okay too—so I’m not left one day selling myself just to get by.”
Her vulnerability was raw, revealing the reality of her situation.
Yvette, deep in thought, nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. But I could see she was emotionally affected by the conversation.
“And what happens when I find myself pregnant?” Vixen asked softly, still lost in thought. “It’s going to happen—I’ll be bound during sex from now on. What do I tell my children? How do I explain to them that their mother has to sleep in bracelets? And what happens when we’re older, and this lifestyle no longer fits us?”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she continued, “It’s about finding balance—embracing this in a way that lasts, just like a relationship should. It can’t just be about emotion; it must be sustainable, practical.”
As Vixen spoke, Mistress Liora and Celeste entered the room, signaling that it was time to go. She stood up and glanced at her partner, encouraging him to rise as well.