Claire awoke to the smell of coffee and light filling the room. The fire was out but she was cosy under her blanket.

The thick leather collar felt heavy this morning, and she ran a finger around inside it to try and get more comfortable.

She tried to take stock of her surroundings. Her mattress was in front of a heavy cast iron wood burner, which had warmed her up on arrival last night. The other side of her mattress was a brown leather sofa, and she recalled with a thrill the activities before she fell asleep. It felt like a dream, but here she was still locked to the fireplace by a chain.

The room was small, with just a window behind the sofa, and a door on each side wall. She recalled passing through lots of rooms on the way in, but couldn’t see much through either doorway.

There seemed to be kitchen noise through the lighter of the two openings, but she couldn’t make out the conversation.

Claire tested the chain that secured her to the stone fireplace, and was shocked when it came loose where she'd clearly seen it locked securely last night. Had she ever really been locked up?

She rose to her feet and crept towards the kitchen, the voices becoming clearer as she approached. The couple who'd what? Kidnapped her? Not exactly. She'd signed up for the course and everything seemed to be tailored exactly to her fantasies, right down to the man's feet resting dismissively on her chest as she came. She shuddered a little at the thought, and suddenly felt dirty.

She realised the conversation had stopped, and froze.

"Come in Claire," came the deep voice of the man who'd greeted her so brusquely at the station. The voice had a quality that made it seem impossible to resist. She wondered briefly if he'd practiced that, and then straightened as the woman came into view.

She was wearing nothing but a pale pink t-shirt, with the word "Feminist" in curvy script across the front, neatly bracketed by the shape of the woman's hard nipples. She beckoned, and Claire stepped into the light filled kitchen.

One side of the room was all windows and the views were of open fields with bare, bleak-looking hills in the distance. There was a level deck outside the windows, dropping away to a large garden that seemed to blend into the landscape.

Claire smelled toast, remembered that was sometimes a sign of having a stroke, and wondered if this was all some weird, vivid hallucination.

Then the toaster popped, and she snapped out of her reverie. The man handed her a coffee, and started spreading butter.

"We should probably introduce ourselves," smiled the woman. "You may call me V, or Mistress if you prefer. This is Tom, but he also answers to Sir."

"Um… pleased to meet you," Claire's inherent politeness spoke for her, despite the whole world of things she felt she ought to say for herself.

"Did you sleep well?" asked V, "We don't like to make it too uncomfortable for first timers."

"Er yes, remarkably well thanks," managed Claire. She was a little thrown off by the seeming normality of the whole situation, not helped by the weight of the chain in her hands.

"Do you feel like a feminist this morning?" asked Tom.

"Er, no, I wouldn't say so. Not since I've spent the night chained to a fireplace, masturbating for strangers and and now standing naked in their kitchen. That doesn't seem like the sort of thing a feminist might do."

"Good point," he smirked, offering her avocado for her toast.

Claire nodded and smiled her thanks.

"But," he went on, " you really did seem to be having a good time. And all that stuff is in your search history already. Submission and degradation need not be against feminist principles if you enjoy them."

"Watch this," and he clicked his fingers.

V dropped to her knees behind him and pulled down his green pyjama shorts. With not a second's hesitation she grasped his arse cheeks in both hands and pushed her face between them, moaning as she presumably licked his asshole.

"You see, she fucking loves doing that, and she's the strongest, most impressive woman I know. Doesn't make her any less of a feminist."

V nodded, smiling eyes looking up at Claire before she nuzzled her head in deeper, making him grip the counter to hold his balance.

"Anyway," he went on, slightly flushed now, "you're here for a week and actions speak louder than words. The basic premise of the course is we… fuck… we show you that feminism isn't necessarily incompatible with… Jesus Christ… with being submissive or being into… oh God, yes… being into humiliation."

V pulled her shining face out from between his hairy arse cheeks, "You're free to go, of course. We'll sign off on your CPD points and never tell a soul you were here."

She spanked his cheeks, and her tits wobbled beneath her Feminist t-shirt, now stained from m to n with strings of spit.

"Or," she grinned, "get down here on your knees and suck his beautiful cock," and she buried her face deep again, humping the air as she twisted and turned to get deeper.

Claire looked down. His cock really was beautiful. Thick and straight and veined and pointing straight at her. He smirked at her and bit his lip.

Then the woman popped her head out again, a string of spit hanging from her chin now.

"Your stuff is in there," she waved a dismissive hand before returning it to a strong, hairy thigh, " nice to meet you." Then she lunged back in, and Tom squeaked in pleasure.

Claire took a deep breath, looked once towards where her bag apparently was, and dropped to her knees.

Sir’s cock was thick and hard, and a drop of precum was already bulging on the end of it. Claire lunged forward, decisive in her decision to stay and see where things went, and wrapped her lips around the shiny head.

A hand landed on the top of her head, and she swivelled her eyes upwards to look at him.

“Good girl,” seemed all he could manage while experiencing all this stimulation.

Claire flicked her tongue side to side on the underside, and he actually yelped and thrust his hips forward. She felt suddenly powerful, and went to work.

She slipped her fingers through his trimmed pubic hair, sliding her thumb beneath his balls and her fingers around the base of his shaft. They didn’t meet, not even close, and the thought made her want to serve him, to show home what she could do.

She sucked a little deeper, almost gagging as his throbbing hard cock filled her mouth. She pressed the flat of her tongue against his frenulum and twisted his head, and was rewarded with a strangled noise of pleasure and another thrust that made her gag a little.

Claire pushed down the gag reflex and started to stroke him with her tongue and lips, finding a rhythm and feeling in control of the situation. She’d sucked a lot of cocks at uni, and prided herself on her skills even if she was a little rusty now.

She was just feeling comfortable, like she could easily manage this man and make him cum, when she felt a pull on her collar. She lifted up a hand to feel the chain still attached to it pulled tight, forcing the cock deeper into her mouth.

Then another hand reached out and pinched her nipple, twisting hard, and suddenly she wasn’t in control any more. She struggled to breathe, and noticed that with each desperate inhale her nose was tickled by the man’s pubes.

“Could she really fit that much in her mouth?” she wondered.

She gagged again, and the tension on the chain was released. She pulled back, eyes streaming and strings of hot drool hanging from her chin. Tom stroked her face, tenderly, and then was turned around by the other woman’s hands on his hips.

He smirked back over his shoulder at her, then the chain was pulling her forward again. She realised what was happening, but could do nothing to stop it.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she thought as her cheeks made contact with his hairy arse cheeks, slick with spit from V’s enthusiastic rimming.

Claire stuck out her tongue, and tentatively explored the shape of his asshole. It was like a little round donut, complete with the hollow in the centre, and tasted of coffee.

A hand found the back of her head, and she was pushed unceremoniously deeper. She decided it wasn’t so bad at all, and threw herself into the task, licking and kissing in ways she thought would feel good.

His arse was strong, and a few times her face was squeezed as he tensed and humped, and Claire guessed that V was doing something similar to the frenulum teasing she’d done. She wasted no time in shoving her face eagerly back in each time it was forced out. If she was going to lick this stranger’s ass, she was going to make sure she did it to the best of her ability.

Soon, the humps became more frequent the tension in the chain tighter, pinning her in place. She held on, breathing when she could and flicking her tongue as deep into his ass as it would go.

Then she felt what must be his orgasm, his hips bucking and humping and his ass cheeks tensing and squeezing.

Then the chain was released, and he was pushed aside, and V was pulling her back in again, kissing her deeply and pushing his cum into her mouth with a swirling tongue.

Claire had never been kissed like this, not by anyone, and she did her best to match the intensity and energy as the world around slipped away. The taste of cum and coffee and this woman’s soft lips, probing tongue and hot body pressed against her, and for a moment her mind emptied.

There was a soft cough above them, and they broke the kiss. As Claire sipped coffee and ate avocado toast, she looked at her hosts and decided she’d made the right decision. She would stay, and see what was in store.