My whole body ached, and my jaw throbbed painfully. I had been confined in a cage beneath the shade of a mighty oak tree for several hours. Thankfully, the weather was pleasant, with only a gentle breeze, and Captain Mighty's shade provided some relief.
We ought to add a few cushions to the cage before using it again. The bottom was constructed from the same lightweight bars as the rest of the structure, a practical design but hardly comfortable for extended use.
As the sun made its way lower in the sky, and dinnertime approached, Alice Number Two came to fetch me.
"Hey there, little birdy! How was your afternoon? Mine was great," she cheerfully greeted me as she approached the cage.
“Mmhmph gmph mm nnph nf hmrm,” I tried to convey my plea, hoping she would understand my tone.
“Owww, my birdie wants out? Or would you stay a bit longer? I don’t mind!” She teased, and to my horror, she began to turn away, apparently ready to leave me locked.
“Nn! Pmmnphm, N nmmn phn gmph nnph!” I cried out as best I could through my gag. I couldn't endure another minute in the cage.
“Alright, alright, just messing with you. Dinner is almost ready, and we don't want it to get cold,” she replied, returning to unlock the cage.
Exhausted, I almost tumbled out, with my clone barely managing to break my fall. She helped me to my feet and removed my gag. I worked my tired jaw, adjusting to my newfound freedom.
“Thank you. This was much harder than I expected,” I said, my speech still challenging.
“It's okay. let's get you cleaned up. You're covered in drool, and you stink. let's get you to the shower,” she said, clipping a leash to my collar.
We walked inside and proceeded to the second floor. Alice Number Two fastened my leash to a decorative handle on the side of the bathtub. It was mostly a symbolic gesture, she didn't bother restraining my hands, but we both knew that I wouldn't dare to touch it.
“Alright, take some time to relax and get yourself cleaned up. I'll be back in forty-five minutes,” she said as she left me alone.
I turned on the water, setting it to nearly the hottest it could go. I slid into the tub without waiting for it to fill up. As the hot water slowly enveloped my tired body, I felt the tension ease. It was pure bliss. A few minutes later, I felt less fatigued and very relaxed.
As promised, my clone returned a little over three-quarters of an hour later, just as I was finishing drying myself. She was dressed in a sleek black dress, not something I'd choose to wear around the house.
“You look fancy. Is there a special occasion? Remember, you can't leave the premises,” I cautioned.
“Don't worry, I'm just getting ready for our session later tonight. You're going to enjoy it,” she replied with a sly grin.
“I'm not sure how much more I can take. That cage really did a number on me,” I said with a yawn.
“I promise it won't be too much to handle, certainly nothing like yesterday,” she assured me, tugging on my leash as we headed toward the kitchen upstairs."
My clone prepared fish with mashed potatoes for dinner. While a glass of white wine would have been a nice addition, I adhered to my strict rule of no alcohol before bondage, and it appeared that my clone had inherited the same discipline.
“So, how has work been in the past six months? Is Richards still in charge?” Alice Number Two inquired as we enjoyed our meal.
“Oh, no, he retired about a month ago. Jim is currently at the helm, but he won't be sticking around for long either, so I'll soon have a new boss. In fact, he's scheduled to start on Monday,” I replied.
Michael Richards was a good man who had been reluctant to step down, but his age had begun to catch up with him, and his retirement had been inevitable for some time. We shared a strong professional relationship, and I considered him my mentor. It was sad to see him go, but it had presented an opportunity to quietly obtain the experimental version of the software.
“That's a shame. I liked him. Hopefully, the new guy will be at least half the manager he was,” my clone remarked, steering my thoughts back to the present.
"Well, the commotion did help me get my hands on the experimental version of the software for your remote," I mentioned.
My clone squirmed in her seat, clearly reminded of something. “By the way, have you played with any of my settings yet? I can't be entirely certain, but at times, I can't help but wonder if I'm not exactly the same as… you… or, well, the me from my memories,” she pondered.
“No, I've kept everything at factory settings. I only updated the remote, and since no changes were made, there were no instructions sent to the Neuralock,” I assured her.
“You promise?” she asked with a hint of hope in her voice.
“If it helps, bring the remote from upstairs. I can't share the password, but I can demonstrate that all settings remain untouched,” I offered.
“Could you? That would provide a great relief to know for sure, not that I don't trust you, but, you know…” She looked uncertain. I nodded, and she hurried upstairs, leaving me alone with my food.
Alice Number Two returned with the remote in hand. I accepted it and entered the password with the screen shielded to prevent her from seeing.
I accessed the settings menu and turned the screen toward her. She meticulously examined it and visibly relaxed. Her smile returned, and she happily resumed her dinner."
“We should really come up with a name for you,” I stated. “What if someone were to visit? Even domestic servant clones have names, and it will be easier for both of us to maintain our cover.”
“I know, I’ve been thinking about it, but I haven’t found anything I truly like. I’m so used to Alice that nothing else feels right. And before you make any suggestions, I want it to be a name that truly feels like my own,” she replied. I couldn't help but notice that something in her body language was not quite right. She wasn’t telling the whole truth.
“Is something bothering you?” I asked.
“No,” she replied. “It's just that I’m conflicted about this. Choosing a new name feels like a step away from our shared identity. It’s as if I’ll become more of my own person and less of a copy of you. I hope you understand what I mean.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked.
“Yes and no. It’s both exciting and scary. It's a lot to process.” The subject was clearly making her progressively more uncomfortable, so I decided to drop it for now.
We finished our meals in silence. My clone appeared deep in thought, likely consumed by her minor existential crisis, while I wondered what she had in store for me tonight.
After clearing the table, Alice Number Two locked a set of wide metal figure-eight cuffs around my wrists, each pointing in the opposite direction, effectively positioning my hands behind my back with my elbows at a ninety-degree angle. These cuffs were lined with soft material inside, and though they held my wrists close together and my elbows at a right angle, I had grown accustomed to having my hands restrained, so they didn't bother me too much.
We then made our way into the basement. In the center of the dungeon stood a contraption that my clone had evidently chosen for our session tonight. It was a padded bench with a leather strap in the middle, mounted on four sturdy legs. Each of the back legs featured a padded shelf with manacles designed to hold the ankles of whoever was trapped in the device. There was also a donut-shaped massage table pillow at the front with a collar to hold the restrained person's head in place, along with another set of manacles attached to each of the front legs.
Alice Number Two led me to the contraption and instructed me to lay down on top, face down. She locked the collar around my neck and tightened the leather strap around my waist. Then, she helped me adjust to a more comfortable position and secured my ankles as well. She didn't bother securing my hands to the device and left them cuffed behind my back.