Limits: Chapter 2

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#3 of Limits

Everyone's packed up and loaded into the car for a trip to the UP, where Rebecca gets to learn about Fudgies, Amethyst and Jewel get to explain some of their roots as Michiganders, and Helga gets to force herself to stay awake through sheer anxiety and stress. Fun times for all around!

You can find the story up to chapter six on my Patreon and Subscribestar. Credit to Terra for the Michigan details. Thumbnail by LiteratureBDSM.


Today was the day.

Helga was up before her alarm went off. She carefully slipped out of bed to avoid waking either Amy or Rebecca, the pig made a quick pot and went about double-checking all the equipment for the trip. She had a jittery rumbling in her stomach that she hoped coffee would subdue. It did not, but it helped her stay alert.

She originally considered just packing everything into her trunk. Really squeeze it all in there. Though the more items she got, the more she realized a small trailer was necessary. Especially for the large cage she checked off her list. Several dildos of various sizes, four batches of hemp rope she'd made sure to have cleaned the previous day, bondage hoods to remove identity, gags, shovels, gardening tools, the list went on. A lot of it wasn't even hers, but equipment borrowed by her ex-girlfriend who shipped it from California. Apparently being a pornstar manager/agent meant Lorraine had a lot of spare gear lying around.

Not to mention the stuff Helga didn't expect, like the special gopro collars Lorraine had sent over. The plan was to record the weekend from multiple angles, using various cameras and stands to watch her girls perform tasks, then splice them all into a convenient video. Sort of like making an erotic documentary for memory's sake. Amethyst suggested having gopros so they wouldn't need to set up a camera at every scene, having gotten the idea from various pornos she'd watched.

Still, the collars with inbuilt ones were a shocker. Helga held one between her hands, running a finger along the cold metal. While leather wasn't naturally soft, it had a comfort to it. A warmth. Like a sharp hug. These would give no such embrace, acting as reminders of the wearer's place without love. Taking a deep breath, Helga exhaled, put the collar down, and checked it off the list.

Then she went over a third time. By then the sun had risen, painting the sky in pinks and orange lights.

Amethyst had been awake when Helga went to check. The vole smiled as she rose from the covers, brushing her asymmetrical green-dyed headfur aside. "Morning, momma," She said with a coyness reserved for play. Helga wanted to smile back, to play along with her girlfriend's bratty nature. She sat against the bed at the tan-furred vole's feet instead, her shoulders slumped.

Rebecca yawned and rubbed her eyes. The blue-furred pitbull rose up against the rays of light that slipped through the blinds. It still amazed Helga how much muscle the pitbull lost since she quit fighting. Her arms weren't twigs, but the lack of weight training slimmed her down and filled out her thighs. Morning cardio could only do so much. "Morning," She said, blinking once then twice to get her bearings. The girl's red headfur laid loose and scraggy from the evening's sleep. "Something wrong?" She asked Helga.

"No. I just did our equipment check." Helga didn't bother mentioning how many checks she did. No point in freaking either of her girls out. "Everything's in order." There was a pause, her attention focused on the two girls half her age that lived in her house. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect to find herself so lucky. "Last chance. You sure you both want to do this?"

Rebecca smiled and nodded, holding out her hands with her wrists together. "Of course, Mistress. Ready when you are."

"Why are your hands out?" Helga asked.

The pitbull stared back, "Aren't you going to cuff us for the ride? Or me, since I'm the bottom of our totem pole?" She asked before turning to Amethyst, "We're starting today, right?"

The pig cradled the bridge of her snout, and snorted with exasperation as she processed what the dog said. "Rebecca, it's a seven hour trip. There's no way I'm putting either of you girls in bondage on the ride there. Did you expect I'd lock you both in the trunk or something?"

Rebecca's clipped ears furled, "Well...I mean, we're going hardcore today, so I thought we'd be starting hardcore."

"No." Helga felt her tone slap the girl across her face as Rebecca's shoulders fell. Taking another breath, the pig relaxed her muscles and continued, "Girls, I love you both, but we're not starting this exactly today. We're just heading down there and getting everything set up. And there's a lot to set up, so shower, get dressed, and, Amy, call Jewel to tell her we'll pick her up."

"We getting breakfast on the way?" The vole asked, planting a kiss against Helga's lips. It was short, barely a blip, but the pig imagined it lasted for at least a minute.

"Yeah, saves us time." Noticing the rhythmic target Amy gave away, Helga slapped the vole's bottom as she passed. "Don't take too long. I want everything set up before dinner and seven hours is a lot of time on the road."

Packed and ready, both girls were pushed into the backseat. Any complaints were met with the argument that Jewel knew the way better cause it was her family's cabin. Not that Helga needed the directions. She'd spent last weekend visiting it when the badger gave her the a-ok to use it. It was a quaint little place, no neighbors that Helga could see or hear. Had a small beach and a dock with no boat.

"So, you think Alex is going to be fine alone this weekend?" Helga asked Jewel upon picking her up. The badger didn't look nearly as tired as her girls, or the pig's reflection. Hopefully that meant there wasn't an argument between her and the wolf.

"It was a...discussion." Jewel looked back to her apartment, "But in the end, Alex decided that she was being clingy and figured a weekend to herself wasn't the worst idea. And I'm just a phone call away."

"Cute." Helga took the girl's backpack and slipped it between the backseat, "You two take care of this."

"I can keep it between my legs." Jewel argued, not wanting any trouble.

Helga didn't notice any, "Trust me, you're gonna want some space with this ride." One trip to the nearest fast food chain later, and they were off. The smell of greasy eggs or sausage sandwiches, and a black coffee filled Helga's car.

Driving seven hours in a car was a different experience than driving seven or more on a bike. Helga was used to the wind scraping against her body and the sun shining down on her. An overall sense of freedom that the car sorely lacked with its confined spaces. Not to mention the constant need for stimulation for her three passengers. The first hour they ate their breakfast and talked about anime. The second, Rebecca went on a rant about the latest horror movies while Amethyst scrolled through her phone. The third was spent with Jewel asking exercise tips from either Rebecca or Helga, the latter of who preferred to focus on the drive due to her caffeine wearing thin. She found her fingers tapping at the wheel in no particular rhythm just to keep her juices flowing.

Having never seen the countryside of Michigan, Rebecca found herself glued to the window. The pitbull didn't start talking about it until they reached the Mackinac bridge, which Jewel explained was one of the longest suspension bridges in the world. "Fifth." Helga emphasized. "Before this, they had to use a ferry to get to the upper peninsula."

"Or the You Pea, as the locals call it." Amy chimed in.

"Wait, so Michigan is a state but isn't connected? How does that work?" Rebecca asked. Jewel decided now to go on a vast history lesson of the Great Lake State. Or the Mitten state as Helga heard it called. She preferred living in the lower peninsula. The U.P., because Helga refused to view it as anything else, was a bit too...isolated for her liking.

And that isolation grew more apparent as she drove. After passing Castle Rock, the highway stretched onwards for miles with only trees and sparse drivers for company. Trucks built for hauling, off-roading, and, in the pig's own admitted stereotypical view, carrying dead feral deer carcass across the side. Not enough people to cause traffic, and she was all the more thankful for it. Helga didn't need more time with her thoughts. They were already a hot drill burning into her skull. If it weren't for her jacket, she'd swear someone would comment on her drenched pits.

By the sixth hour, they'd taken off the highway and stopped at a rustic little grocery market with a gas station across the street. "Ok, I need to get some groceries. Who wants to stretch their legs?" Everyone raised their hands. The first step out of the car was a sweet yet tortuous heaven as their muscles strained from movement. Rebecca defaulted to stretching her legs and curling forward to touch her toes. Only Amethyst could do the same, and she grinned mischievously to Helga as she did so.

"So, what are we getting?" The vole asked.

"Some veggies, hopefully. Fruits too." Helga already had the protein powder she needed. "Probably something for dinner tonight."

"You didn't pack anything for tonight?" Amethyst asked with a raised brow.

"No, Amy. I got a bit too busy packing everything else that I just plum fuck forgot." Stuffing her hands into her coat pockets, the hog trudged her way into the store. "But I'll leave that up to you and Rebecca," she said with a cattier tone than she meant. "Or maybe Rainbow's got an idea for what to eat. Whatever you make is fine."

Oats, black beans, carrots, whatever Helga could find close to her list she bagged into the shopping cart. One of the wheels kept scratching against the floor in rebellion against the other three. Helga ignored it for around five minutes before looking down to find which one it was. Seeing the left wheel closest to her foot being the perpetrator, the pig decided to casually kick the damned thing throughout her hunt for soluble fibers. And maybe some sugar. The shakes had to be drinkable.

Then again, the slave fantasy didn't care about whether the drinks tasted good.

Helga stopped at the brown sugar in the baking aisle. The sow closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Fucking fantasy bullshit." The pig muttered. She grabbed a bag of the stuff and tossed it into the screechy cart.

"That's a lot of..." Rebecca squinted into the shopping cart, noting the plastic bags covering the veggies, "...fresh produce? Got something planned?"

"More or less. Where's Amy?" Helga asked.

The pitbull pointed over her shoulder before dropping a rotisserie chicken, "She andJewel are over by the counter. We were about to buy this chicken, but they got into a conversation with the beaver up front. He asked if we were fudgies or trolls, and both of them got upset."

The pig smiled at the pitbull's confused tone, "Yeah, I suppose locals would be upset at that."

"Huh?" Rebecca raised her brow.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or just needing a distraction from her own thoughts. Either way, Helga decided to school the New Yorker. "People in the UP call themselves Yoopers. Since we had to cross a bridge to get here, we're called trolls. Fudgies are people who only go to the U.P. to get the fudge they sell in special shops near the bridge. Basically tourists."

"Is...is this like the town called Hell?" Rebecca asked incredulously, "Is Michigan just a weird state?"

Helga snorted. "Every state's weird. Kentucky's got a boner for horses, Rhode Island won't shut up about their special claim chowder, Ohio fucking sucks, California's on fire most of the year, the existence of Florida itself," Spending her twenties on the road had told Helga that no place was as special as it claimed to be. Everything was just weird and fucked. All that mattered was where she put her roots. Leaning in, she asked, "You don't have any weird history about NYC?"

"Just that eating a bagel was a no-no from my dad." Rebecca crossed her arms, scowling at the memory, "Something about it being equivalent to a quarter of a breadloaf. How come Amy never brings this stuff up? Or Jewel?"

"Cause they live here?" In the pig's experience, the locals don't bother explaining their customs until people start asking. "Did you ever ask why some people call Michigan the Mitten State?"

"The what?"

Helga held her palm up flat, "The Mitten State. Lower half of Michigan looks like a Mitten. Some people can even use it like a map." She trailed her finger along her open palm, showing off the road they'd taken, "It's actually really useful, so long as you're familiar with geography." Rebecca didn't ask anymore questions. Either because she was dumbfounded by the realization of how weird the state she now called home was. Or, more likely, was reading her palm to grasp the distance they traveled. They found Amy and Jewel at the front counter, their dialect thicker than usual. The only other time Helga had ever heard the vole devolve to saying 'Tanks' over 'Thanks' involved using her own tongue and...

She shook her head. Now was not the time.

"What brings you trolls out here?" The beaver asked, casually scanning each product. "Ya visiting the local HOMES?"

"The what?" Rebecca asked.

"The great lakes," Jewel chimed in. "Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie and Superior. But we're not going to any of them. The lake my family's cabin is on isn't on a map."

"Wait, seriously?" Rebecca's ears perked.

"Oh, tat ain't so rare." The beaver smiled, "Lots of lakes in the yoo pea. Be a pain to map em all out." Helga kept silent, wanting nothing more than to get back on the road and have everything prepped. Their cashier did not share the sentiment, "So, if you ain't out here for the HOMES, what ya out here for? Going feral hunting? Fishing? Takin a vacation from troll life?"

"We're on a private trip." Helga explained, pulling at her shirt collar. When did supermarkets get so hot?

"Gotta lotta beans and veggies here. You plan on getting some moose meat in the hills? I'd take a good rifle for that. My friend Joe got into a heap of trouble thinking he could take down a moose with a Winslow. Now, I told him it weren't gonna work. Being a moose himself, I was sure he could tank a shot from far enough away. Oh but he weren't hearin it, no siree. Said he'd take a bow and arrow to it if he could, somethin' about a tradition or somethin' don't rightly know. But he ended up in the hospital with a broken leg and arm, lucky him and-"

"We're not hunting moose." Helga snapped, "We're out on a private trip and we still got plenty of ground to cover." She slammed her wallet against the counter, "How much do I owe you?" Too much she muttered under her breath on her way out. Their cashier was taken aback by the display, and Amethyst stayed to apologize. Something she made very clear when they got back into the car.

"What was that?" The vole asked, her tone mixed between worry, care, and accusation. "He was just telling a story."

"We have a schedule." Helga gently pushed the vole back into her seat, "Now buckle up, all of you. There's still another hour of driving left and I am very tired." Hence the energy drink she just popped and guzzled down. Amethyst crossed her arms and squinted at her girlfriend, but said nothing about it the rest of the trip. Only time she spoke up was helping Jewel answer another of Rebecca's questions.

How one girl could be so enthralled by the State of Michigan, Helga couldn't understand. Every state had enough beauty for it to blend together eventually. After an hour and a half of highway, backroads, and second guessed directions, the four found themselves rolling up to a single cabin on a lake. Helga got out to stretch first. The cool forest air brushed against her face as she breathed in the sights.

Despite the cabin's size, Helga figured it wasn't rustic enough to have only one room and an outhouse behind the walls she didn't see. It did give a feeling that the walls were once made from the surrounding trees before being replaced with stylized wood. "My great-great grandparents built it." Jewel explained as she helped unpacked. "Then my grandparents rebuilt it. My mom has talked about rebuilding it again, but my dad's been on the fence about it. Honestly, I don't think he wants to attempt it while my grandma is still kicking."

"Granny Frig is still alive?" Amethyst asked Jewel in shock.

The badger nodded, "Despite her complaints, she found herself liking Florida with her new husband. Though visiting the village they live in is like walking into a...is stepford the right word for it?"

"They're designed with old people in mind." Helga chimed in. "When you get older, you start having more back and knee problems so stairs are a hazard. Bunch of one story homes work in that favor. Having a more uniform design makes it faster to build, easier to schedule." She'd put in enough drywall to know some basic construction secrets. "Rainbow, mind showing those two around? I got some stuff to unload."

Not two seconds after opening the trailer did Helga find her girls at her side. Both carrying smiles, though Amy's was more of a casual smirk while Rebecca stood straight and attentive. "We can help." The pitbull said, "Please, you've been driving all day."

"I don't..." Helga scrunched her eyebrows in frustration and shook her head, having accepted defeat. "Fine, fine. After you put your stuff in the house."

"You afraid we're gonna catch a surprise, Mama?" Amethyst asked with playful snark.

She smiled back but stared daggers at the vole, "No. Just given what this weekend is gonna be about, I want you girls to have as much relaxation as possible before we start. Now unload in the damn house already." Watching her two lovers leave, Helga fought, and failed, the urge to yawn before pulling out a large cage from the back of the hauler. Light enough to carry alone, large enough for two people to fit in if they were ok with having no room to move.

For a moment, she just stood there with her fingers looped in the bars. Her girls were going to sleep in this. No blankets, no pillows, just their bodies bound to each other for warmth. A dangerous affair that, even with the baby monitors she brought along, had the pig on edge. Shaking her head, Helga rattled the thought away and carried the cage out to the backyard to bring it to the basement.

She continued to have flashes and worries throughout the set up. Every piece of equipment was a reminder of what her girls would participate in. Helga checked the ropes to make sure they were still soft. She gave her girls the task of cleaning the toys until they shined if they didn't want to just sit around and soak in the sun. By the first hour there, Jewel had set up the wifi and the next hour was spent learning how the damn collar gopros worked. Helga made a few calls to Lorraine to make sense of the directions. The signal was adequate. If an emergency happened, Helga figured she'd be doing the driving anyway.

The sun had begun its descent by the time the trailer was emptied and everything was set. Helga looked over the cabin again, breathing in the atmosphere as she noted plans for the next day. The garden needed to be rewalled, weeds needed to be pulled, and she'd spent at least half an hour finding logs to chop for firewood. Not that they needed firewood, but hard labor helped fit the fantasy. "You sure no one's gonna pop in on us?" Helga asked Jewel.

The badger nodded, "Is that why you asked me out here?"

"Partly." Helga scratched her head, "Know any good hiking trails that are just as remote?"

"Miss Foley-"

"Don't." Helga interrupted, "It's just Helga."

The badger nodded, "Helga, we're about three miles out from any other cabin and most people visiting don't come by this time of year." She pointed westward, "My family liked to trek around this lake. We used to have a rowboat, but my cousin sank it on my fifteenth birthday."

"He sank it?" Helga asked, "The fuck for?"

"Fireworks." The badger's answer came too casually for Helga to grasp. "Really, it was dynamite fishing. Not being able to get actual dynamite, my cousin thought fireworks were the next best thing."

"I...I don't mean to sound insulting, but does your cousin have all his fingers?"

"Not for lack of trying. He's a chef now." Jewel smiled, letting it slowly fade in the silence between them. "Are you alright?" She asked.

Helga brushed it off. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Amy says you've been snippy today, and she knows you better than I do." The badger pointed out, "You don't have to hide your stress, you know. I'm sure they'll understand if you want to push it off."

They would, and that was the problem for her. Helga couldn't quite help but feel guilty if she brought them all the way here to say 'Sorry girls, pack it in, I got cold feet'. Not just for fear of disappointing them, but herself. She sighed and shook her head, forgetting for a moment that Jewel would see her disagreeing. In reality, the pig was...she was tired. "I'll catch up on sleep tonight. We're all going to bed early anyway, gotta be up before the crack of dawn."

"Seriously?" Jewel asked. Helga ignored her and walked inside. "Like, crack crack of dawn, or right when the sky gets bright? Hello?!"

The heavenly smell of whatever Amethyst was cooking hit Helga when she opened the front door. There, head over the stove, stood her girlfriend wearing an apron over a black shirt and skirt. Helga wrapped her arms around the vole, sinking her nose into the girl's dyed green sidecut, and sniffed.

"Smells good." She said, straddling Amy. "As does the chicken."

"Cute." Amy leaned into the older woman, "I wanted to try something easy for the first night. Can't fuck up stew."

"You say that like you fuck up a lot. But I love your cooking." A little white lie, one that Amethyst caught immediately by her smile, but said nothing. "Where's Rebecca?"

"In the bathroom. Can't you hear the shower?"

She shook her head, "No. Why's she taking a shower now?"

"Cause we aren't gonna have one for a few days? Or do you plan on hosing us down?"

Helga laughed softly, "I can't give away all my plans..." Hugging the vole tight, she whispered, "You know I love you, right? That nothing I do will say-"

"I know." Amy didn't let her finish, "I'm a big girl, I can take it."

The pig knew that. She feared it. Both her girls were tough, and Amethyst loved to pull the brat card. But in the set up they had planned, would Helga keep herself restrained or push past their limits? She'd been playing for years, so she knew deep down she could control herself. But the doubt still lingered, perched on her shoulder like the devil.

At dinner, Helga laid down the final rules. "First off, tell me your safewords." The pig commanded.

"Pineapple," Said Amethyst.

"Watermelon," Sounded Rebecca, chipper in tone.

Nodding, Helga added, "Mine will be Banana, and," She turned to Jewel, "Rainbow's will be Avocado."

"What?" Jewel blinked, "Why do you and I have safewords? I never agreed to be a slave on this trip."

"Safewords aren't only for submissives." Helga leaned her elbows against the table, interlocking her fingers together while she explained. "People like to think the dominant has all the control in play, but it's the submissive who has the final say. When something is too intense, where the dominant is worried things might go too far, the top needs a safeword to put an end to it." She looked to her girls as she spoke, noting the concern in their eyes and the tight grip of their hands together. She was happy to see them taking it seriously.

Then guilt hit her, because of course they'd take this seriously.

Jewel's confusion didn't waiver. "Ok, but why do I specifically have a safeword? I'm not a submissive or dominant, I'm a third party."

"You're also recording this event," said the pig, "And I want to give you an out if you feel uncomfortable."

"But my discomfort shouldn't stop you all from playing." Jewel said.

"Jewel, it's ok." Amethyst spoke up, "Helga trusts you, we trust you. She just wants someone who is, well," holding her fingers in quotation marks, "Normal, in case we're going too far. We've never done something this intense."

Helga bit her lip, realizing her mistake. "I should have brought this up earlier." She admitted with regret, "I've just been so busy getting everything ready, that it slipped my mind. No, not even that. I figured this was a fine spot to bring it up and I realize now that it really isn't." With a deep breath to calm her shaking, she finished with, "You do not have to record us if you do not want to. You've already done enough by setting up the wifi and stands. We can avoid you if you'd like."

She watched the badger ponder the new information, so intently that Helga didn't react to Amy or Rebecca's grip on her hands. "So, why avocado?" Jewel asked, sounding accepting of the position at least.

Helga smiled and let loose the tension in her breath, "It's a berry, like all of ours."

"It's a berry?" The badger raised her brow, "Really?"

"It's an expansive food group." Helga nodded, "Moving on, you two." The subs turned their attention strictly to Helga. Amethyst slouched casually into the table, whereas Rebecca had her back straight and chest out like they were already in play. "In your collars, you are not Amethyst and Rebecca. I'll be calling you Green or Red during this affair."

Rebecca looked to nod in agreement, but Amethyst didn't share the sentiment. "Seriously?" She asked, judging her girlfriend's choice, "Our hair colors? You couldn't think of anything better?"

"I had to pick something identifying," Helga said, "And I couldn't use numbers, or else Rebecca would act like there's a hierarchy between you two during this." The pitbull nodded in agreement. Their regular dynamic alone had enough of a hierarchy, with the pitbull on the bottom and loving it. "For this play to work as we want it, you both are going to be equals."

"So why not just keep our names?" Amy asked, "Or better, not let us have any names?"

"Because slaves don't need names." At least, not in the fantasy, "And you ever try calling people out when they don't have a name? If I shouted 'Hey, you, get over here!' while you're doing different jobs, how are either of you gonna notice without stopping your task? It'll just ruin the flow." Her words were more defensive than she intended. She didn't want to discuss the topic more than she had to. "Do you have a better idea? Cause I'd love to hear it."

Amy opened her mouth before she thought of anything, leaving it hanging agape in silence. "Ok, fair." She relented, crossing her arms and sinking into the seat, "But I hope you plan on using those color names as little as possible." Rolling her eyes at this, Helga nodded and continued discussing safety for the next hour. After that, they had one hour left to relax before everything changed.

Jewel's cabin had an older chimney. Wooden logs crackled inside the flames, their warmth basking over the pig as she clutched her two girls close on the couch by the fire. She pulled them close like blankets, smothering herself in their scent as the three sat in silence. Jewel had taken to her room for privacy, no doubt calling her girlfriend.

Five minutes until start, after final bathroom checks, Helga took a deep breath and softly whispered to both her girls. "I want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you both and am so lucky to be with each of you."

Rebecca nodded, but Amethyst just laughed. "Stop worrying, Mama." She teased with affection, "We know this is just play. We won't forget that." Helga had Jewel record that for her own mental safety.

The hour came upon them. Helga sucked in air through her snout and exhaled. "Strip and face me," She ordered without feeling. Both girls nodded and took to their feet, slowly stripping out of their clothes until nothing but the chastity belts on them remained. Helga pulled the keys from around her neck, inserting and twisting into both locks to free both girls from their metal prisons.

"Eyes forward, arms behind your backs." They followed instructions to perfection, though Amethyst's mouth twitched in the struggle against her grin. Helga pulled a duffel bag over and started latching piece after piece of gear. Leather ankle and wrist cuffs tied tight enough, leather hoods to mask their identities, and then the special metal collars she locked around their throats. "Does anything pinch?" She asked. Both submissives shook their heads. "Good. Good."

For a moment, she stepped back to appreciate the two hooded girls. One, a tanned-furred vole whose green hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail outside of the hood. Her lanky body used to sitting around made all the more enjoyable by the finger-wide nipple rings hanging from her chest. The other, a blue-furred pitbull with extra meat on her bones from laxed exercise. She still showed muscle from her old fighting career and carried no piercings. Like her fellow submissive, she had her red hair bunched up behind her hood. Both eyes stared straight into the void, chests tight with a slow rise and fall for every breath.

For the first time since she started this trip, Helga's smile felt genuine. This was really happening. "Basement. Now." She ordered, seeing no need for a leash when a command would do. The two gimps nodded and marched to the basement door, keeping their hands behind their backs as if locked in place. Deep in the cellar, with a cement floor and extra carpets Helga brought for warmth, the two stopped at a single cage. Spacious for one, but tight for two.

Stuffing each mouth with a rubber ballgag, the pig opened the cage from the top and directed each girl to lie side by side on the small cot lining it. They laid flat, facing each other's feet. Helga pulled them closer to bind their hands behind the other, their lack of a blanket solved by shared body heat. "Sleep well." Helga jeered, locking blindfolds across their masks. They nodded to her, speech muffled by the gags. Helga knew their wishes and thanks well enough.

Stealthily, she left a baby monitor next to them. Back in her own room, Helga turned hers on and placed it right beside her alarm clock.

The weekend had begun.