Mrs Susannah Johnston was important, and she looked it. It was a little warm for such formal clothes but there were standards to maintain, reputations to be upheld.

Susannah, Chairperson of the Mayfield Welcomes Good Neighbors and dressed in her neat blue suit with its 'Welcome, Good Neighbor,' button, stood at the door of number 142 Mayfield and knocked smartly. She held her special greetings basket in one hand and had that confident look of a good neighbor who was here to help, come what may.

That was their little motto: Neighborly, Come What May.

What came though was not what she expected.

The blonde nine year old girl - dressed in a bright yellow sun dress - who opened the door to Mrs Johnston was smiling just as brightly. There was no hint of anguish or distress in her delightful face despite the fact the child had thin steel chains at her wrists and ankles. Chains that tinkled as the girl brought her hand up to brush a stray wisp of hair from her cute face, chains that glinted in the late afternoon sunlight.

'H-Honey -' began Mrs Johnston, staring at the little girl.

'Hi,' grinned the girl. 'I'm Maysie. My mom's not in at the moment.'

Mrs Johnston recovered her poise. 'Your mommy is... I mean, are you okay?'

The girl seemed a little puzzled. 'Sure I am.' Then her small crease in her brow cleared. 'You want to come in and wait? Mommy'll only be a few minutes.'

'It's just that you're...' Words failed the woman. in all her forty one years she had never seen anything like this.

'Oh, I'm chained.' The small girl leaned forward conspiratorially, not in the least concerned. 'I'm not supposed to wear them when Mom's out.' Maysie's voice was a stage whisper, followed by a snicker.

Then, mock-seriously: 'I'm not always this naughty.'

'I-I'm glad to hear it, er...,' breathed the woman, unable to take her eyes off the silver links that connected the child's ankles and wrists. 'Um, Maysie.'

'Please come in and wait and I can go and take these off.' Maysie stepped back and without a trace of self-consciousness, she indicated the small clasps on the leather cuffs at her wrists, and a gesture to show the ankle cuffs were the same. 'It's easy,' she chuckled.

It would be fair to say Susannah was in a fog as she stepped inside the house. She'd been in before, when the Sobell's lived there but it was always good to see how the house was when the new folks moved in. A quick glance showed they were alone and they didn't have much, well nothing expensive. No antiques at any rate.

The child was skipping towards the stairs, chains tinkling. Almost pleasant. 'Honey, Maysie,' called Susannah after the child, switching her attention back to the girl. 'Uh, your mom and dad.'

'I haven't got a dad. Jus' me an' mommy,' said the little girl without any sadness. She was already making her way up the stairs, the height of the risers just enough for her to have to stretch the ankle chain tight. It was as if the ankle chain was made to just that length...

Susannah snapped her mind from that strange thought, troubled by it's unexpected appearance. 'Your mom,' the woman began again but her voice was tight and it was little more than whisper. Already Maysie was up the stars, out of earshot. Or pretending to be.

The door opened behind Susannah and she turned, horrified at what she might see next. But it was a young woman, smiling, putting down a shopping bag. Normal. No chains tinkling or gleaming.

'Hello,' said the woman as she kicked the door shut. 'I'm Zara Little. You are...' she glanced at Susannah's button. 'Ah, yes. The welcoming lady. Mrs Sobell said you'd stop by soon.' The woman's voice sounded a little edgy as if she didn't quite approve of a lot of neighborliness. She flicked a glance at the empty stairs. 'I guess May Elisa let you in.'

'Who?' It was the first thing Mrs Johnston had said to the young woman and she suddenly realized it was the best greeting from the leading light of the MWGN as she liked to call their group. She blushed a little. 'Uh, I'm sorry. Hi, I'm Susannah Johnston and I'm the chairperson of-'

'I know,' said Zara, a small smile but a defensive one. A grimace, perhaps. 'May Elisa is my daughter. Maysie as she prefers. I guess you already know I am a single mom.' The woman moved past Susannah towards the kitchen. Susannah understood if she wanted a conversation she would have to follow. She hastened after the newcomer.

'I'm sorry. I didn't realize you weren't home. I called round with uh, this as a welcome gift.' She held the basket out towards the younger woman who was depositing her groceries on the side.

Zara Little made no move to take it. Embarrassed, Susannah put it down on the table. It seemed suddenly pathetic, without the welcoming speech. The one that Susannah always rehearsed for any new family. She also felt unwelcome, which wasn't a feeling she was used to. In fact, this young mother looked as if she was waiting for the older woman to leave.

Susannah felt lost. If she left now she wouldn't get to say the important things, like child behavior rules on Mayfield and keeping a tidy lawn and that dogs weren't welcome and...

'Mrs Johnston. I hate to be rude but I still have a lot of unpacking to do. It was good of you to call and ( a merest pause) welcome us to the neighborhood. Rest assured we aim to be good neighbors. Even though I'm a single mom.'

There was a note of suppressed anger in Zara's voice in the last part, as if she had encountered hostility before because there was no Mr Little around. She half turned away. Interview over.

'Oh, hi again,' said Maysie from the hall doorway, cheerfully.

Susannah started. She was scared to look if the child had her chains on. But she was just there in her bright yellow dress and no sign of anything untoward, save for the slightest - almost imperceptible - mark on one wrist as if the cuff had been a tad too tight.

'Uh, hi, Maysie,' said the older woman, her voice cracking in a mixture of shock and relief.

The little girl was normal and untroubled. She skipped past the woman and to her mom's side, bent on examining the contents of the grocery bag. Looking for something she liked.

Susannah Johnston retreated, mumbling something about letting herself out.

---

The woman stood in her own kitchen, unsure what to think. It wasn't just that there was a single mother at number 142. Hey, she was up with the world. These things happen. They shouldn't... but best not to judge too much. There could be a good reason. Probably.

And she had to be a nicer person than the previous woman who lived there. Mrs Sobell was trouble. And her sons were just too loud...

Susannah shook herself out of what had been and faced up to now. She had seen the little girl wearing chains like some... like some slave. She felt suddenly warm and took off her suit jacket.

For a moment she stood in her plain white blouse and considered taking that off too. Foolish really, but she didn't know why. But she did know her duty as a good neighbor. She must call the Police and tell them a child was being kept a prisoner in her own home.

Halfway through dialing 911 she stopped. A prisoner? Well, not exactly officer, the child had taken them off herself true but... She hung up, turning things over in her mind. Then Susannah picked the phone up again. Hadn't that Zara Little said she would chain her daughter up? Another pause. No, she hadn't said that. The girl, Maysie, had. Damn, the woman cursed. She really didn't know what to say and anyway, it would never do to have to cops here on Mayfield. It was such a respectable neighborhood. The MGWN saw to that, under her able guidance.

But then if she didn't call and something happened, what would she say in her defense? That she didn't notice? Would that mean the end of her as the chairperson? Susannah shuddered, worrying over the loss of her status. Her photo in the papers, on TV. The Good Neighbor Who Never Helped.

Lord, she felt so warm too!

The top two buttons on her blouse came undone. Then the third.

Her hand went back to hovering over the phone. She should call her friend, Karen. She didn't do anything but release a fourth button on her blouse.

There was a small knock at the door. Grateful for the interruption, she went to the door, forgetting how undressed she must look. She hesitated as she opened it, suddenly worrying that Darlene Thorson or even old Mrs Ginlay would be there, wanting to know what was the newcomer's house like. What she'd seen.

But she opened it anyway and saw Maysie standing there, with the welcome basket in her hand.

'Mommy says it's better if you have this back.' The small girl darted a look over her shoulder, over at the blank-looking number 142 across the street. 'It's uh, very kind of you, she said. But we don't need it.' The child looked back at he old woman but wasn't looking at her face. She was staring at the woman's open blouse, the cleavage between the woman's large bust. The edge of her white bra peeking out. Maysie snickered. 'You look undressed!'

'Oh, it's nothing, I'm just hot.' The woman grabbed the two halves of her blouse and dragged them together. She was hot now, as she blushed. Shed never done anything like that before. Even her husband Jake rarely saw a sight like that.

'It's okay. I don't mind.' The small girl chuckled, not maliciously. 'I like them. They're big.'

A wave of shock went over Susannah. A child talking to her like this? 'Maysie... this isn't...' Nor for the first time in the past half hour words failed her. She held her blouse closed with one hand and took the basket. But she didn't close the door, didn't shoo the child away. Maysie was standing, just smiling.

'Yes?' asked the woman, embarrassed a little by the child's smile. The silence between them.

'My chains,' said the girl, her face now serious. 'You won't tell my mommy will you?'

'Well, I am not sure.' Mrs Johnston tried her best chairperson voice. Dignified and reserved. 'I don't think it's right that children should be a -' She stopped herself saying "slave" She groped for the words. 'You shouldn't be wearing... it's not right.'

'You mean my chains?'

'Uh, yes,' breathed the woman. Hotter than before. She concluded the weather must have suddenly changed. Chains. Changed. She blushed at the word association.

'Usually mommy says I can. But when she goes out sometimes. I slip them on.' Another glance across the road. 'I'm not supposed to. Not without her being there.'

'No,' agreed the woman, unsure what she meant. She struggled with a question fora few moments. 'Listen, Maysie. Why does your mom want you in chains?'

'Because ropes take too long,' said the girl as if it was obvious. 'But I have to go now.'

'Maysie, wait -' began Mrs Johnston, but the little girl was skipping towards the gate and the street. 'Uh, tell your mom...' She hesitated. Tell the woman what? That ropes did take too long?

Mrs Johnston saw the girl cross the street and then she closed the door. She felt strange and regretful.

She felt even more so when she opened the small note that someone had put in the basket. A letter in a child's handwriting.

---

Susannah sat and read the note for the tenth time. Simple, straightforward but vibrant.

"Dear Mrs Jonson," it read in its neat but distinctly child scrawl. "I like my chains. I hope you dint mind me. Mommy says I have to ask for them. Love, M." there was a little picture of a smiling girl in a yellow dress, something like a chain between her hands, and one up to her neck. The radiant sun was shining, over her yellow haired head. But the child had scribbled over the smile on the girl's face with some red crayon.

For the tenth time Susannah felt a wave of what she could only conclude was the onset of middle age and women's problems. Or sexual excitement.

She was aware her blouse was open, her nipples hard in her white lace bra. Her legs had drifted apart where she was sitting and idly her other hand had strayed to the hem of her blue skirt. She wanted to do something that was wrong. But she couldn't stop.

Desperation welled in her. Respectable middle aged women shouldn't be thinking about little girls tied up or in chains. Susannah felt both swept by guilt and the flames of a strange, dark lust.

The woman fought it of course: she had no choice. After all she meant something in this community. People looked up to Mrs Susannah Johnston, to her position. She had respect, people trusted her, sought her advice and approval. They listened to her because she was filled with common sense. If someone said: "Mrs J, there's a child in chains who likes being restrained, who wants to be bound and punished and..."

With a gasp of horror the woman realized she had her hand inside her skirt, that she was scrabbling at the crotch of her surprisingly wet pants. With one swift move she threw her skirt back down, blushing at her lack of control. Her lust.

The woman stood and tidied herself, fastening her blouse and making sure her skirt was straight. It wasn't a moment too soon. A knock at the door sent her to answer it.

It was perhaps the last person she expected to see: Mrs Little. Maysie's mother.

'Mrs Johnston, I'll get straight to the point. My daughter said she wrote you a note. In the basket. I'd like it back please.' The young woman was flushed, almost angry looking.

'Mrs Little... I don't know what you mean.' Susannah felt as if she was about to lie and stopped herself.

'A note to you. From May Elisa.'

'Oh that!' She gestured dismissively. 'It was nothing. Just a thank you for the gift basket. It was very sweet of her. Neighborly, you could say.' she added with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

'But I'd like it back,' said Zara. 'She shouldn't be writing notes like tha -' She stopped herself.

'I'm afraid I can't. You see... it's, um, gone. I read it and put in the furnace, with some other papers.'

'You have your heating on? In this weather?' Zara was incredulous.

Susannah shrugged. 'Some of us feel the cold more.' It made her sound older than she was, but then her clothes and hairstyle made her seem that way too. Yet she still thought, even at 41, she was a good looking woman. Not as attractive as Zara, stood in front of her with her long chestnut brown hair and slim figure but, better than most who crossed the dividing line of forty. And she had a bigger bust too than Mrs Little. Indeed, she pushed it out that fraction more as if to demonstrate some superiority.

She couldn't be sure but Susannah thought she saw Zara give the woman's heavy chest an imperceptible glance, as if she was... what? Impressed?

Zrara though had her eyes very definitely on the older woman's face as she spoke. 'My daughter has some odd ideas,' she said. 'Sometimes she shares them with strangers. They don't understand.'

'I'm not a stranger,' said Susannah as levelly as she could, feeling this was some slight. 'I'm a neighbor. A good neighbor. We care for our neighbors in Mayfield.'

'I'm sure you are. And some people want to keep themselves to themselves.' Zara turned to go.

'Mrs Little... a moment.'

Zara stopped and turned back. Something glinted briefly in the very corner of the young woman's eye.

'We don't have to be enemies,' said Susannah. 'I know what it's like, moving someplace new and not having friends. Not knowing anyone who... well, understands.'

'Understands?' the glint was a there again, a fraction bigger. It was, of course, a tear. The younger woman put her hand up to her face, as if brushing stray hair from her cheek, but fingers spread as if trying to catch the small teardrop innocently. 'What is there to understand?'

Something tore at Susannah, seeing this woman so upset. So pretty, too. And holding some secret inside her. Yes, she'd seen that on Mayfield before. Barriers and walls, fences to hide behind. Neighbors did that.

'I can help,' said Susannah softly, not knowing where the words came from. Or even what they meant.

'Help? In what way?' Zara looked both hopeful and defensive. Someone ready to snatch their hand back as they reached for safety, just in case it would pull them to a worse fate.

'That note. It was... Please, can you come inside for a moment, so we can talk?'

'Maysie is on her own. I don't have anyone else to look after her.' Zara was hovering on an edge.

'Then may I come to your place. I won't take too much of your time.'

The younger woman considered the request, looking smaller, helpless. Someone who didn't know who to trust, not knowing what the answer was. 'It's okay. We're okay. On our own. I have to get back,' she said.

Susannah saw more than just her turning. She could see a stout fence going up between them.

'Because Maysie might be chaining herself up?' Susannah had blurted the words out, surprising herself.

Zara's face was crumpled into both anger and despair as she turned back to look at Susannah. 'You know?'

'I know that...' Susannah faltered, for a moment unable to say what was deep in her, locked away in a secret place surrounded by fences and walls and moats. She summoned up the courage, scared Zara would step further down the path, away from her. 'I know that I wanted to do that to myself when I was ten.'

Zara stared, disbelief etched across her other emotions.

'I lived with my mother too, when I was Maysie's age. I hadn't got a father. We had a potting shed, where I hid myself. Where I did it.' The walls in her had collapsed. No one had heard this before, not even her husband. Susannah was aware she was wringing her hands together.

'Did what?' Zara seemed to have a fresh glint in her eye. Both eyes now.

Susannah gulped, repressed memories spilling out, jostling to be heard. 'I-I chained myself up. Like Maysie.' Her voice was odd. Distant, really, as if it was someone else a long time ago.

Zara stared at the woman. Suddenly she turned and fled.

---

At the Little's door, Susannah could hear her heart beating hard inside her. She knew she should be home, fixing her husband's dinner. making the home ready for him. Isn't that what all good wives did?

It had been nearly an hour since Zara had fled from Susannah's door, obviously upset. Nearly an hour where she had agonized over what to do, whether to let it be or try to talk to the woman. The talking bit won out. Just.

The middle aged woman knocked, in rhythm with her thumping heart.

The door opened a little. Maysie peeking out. Susannah tried to see if she was back in her chains. She wasn't.

'Honey,' said Susannah gently. 'I have to see your mommy. It's important.'

For a few seconds Maysie didn't move. Susannah, heart in mouth, expected her to close the door. It didn't. It opened wider, Maysie letting her in.

'Mommy's busy right now,' said the child.

'I have to see her,' repeated Susannah as she stepped into the Little's home, Maysie closing the door behind the woman. 'Where is she, sweetheart?'

'In her room,' said Maysie. She didn't move, or indicate any direction.

'You mean her bedroom.'

'No,' said the child. 'Her room. Where she has to stay when... um, when Aunt Elena says so.'

'Aunt Elena?' A strange dread came over Susannah. There was something scary about this.

Maysie leaned forward a little. 'She says we have to have a room. She called earlier, and said it was time.'

What did the girl mean? The woman blinked. It was somehow scarier than she imagined. 'Where's this room?'

'I'm not supposed to tell anyone,' said the girl. 'But I think you're nice. You won't tell anyone will you?'

'Of course not, honey. I'm a Good neighbor. Good Neighbors never tell what they shouldn't tell.'

'Okay,' said the child with a nod. 'It's out the back.'

Susannah understood at once. When the Sobell family owned the home they'd built a romp room on the end of the garage, to contain the kids everyone said. Now it was... Susannah gulped and headed out after Maysie.

The romp room had a padlock on the door. A heavy padlock, closed. 'It needs a key,' said the little girl helpfully.

'You locked it. Your mom's in there, right?'

Maysie nodded.

'Honey. Did you chain your mommy up?'

'No!' protested the child. 'She did it herself.' A pause. 'She has to. Like I have to.'

Susannah felt her cunt turn to hot liquid. She gave a small gasp, then recovered her poise.

'I need to see her,' said Susannah. 'I won't hurt her. Can you get the key for the lock?'

Maysie pouted but didn't move.

Susannah felt helpless. Then she understood. 'Uh, I promise I won't release her. Not until Aunt Elena says so.'

Maysie grinned. It was the right thing to say. She reached into her dress and fished out a key on a silver chain. Without hesitation she unlocked the padlock and pushed the door open. But she didn't follow the woman in.

The romp room was bare. Empty save for a young woman sat in the corner, huddled up, chains from her neck and wrists and ankles attaching her to a large eyebolt set high up the wall. The woman was naked.

'Hi,' said Zara. 'I thought you'd get to come across.'

Susannah nodded. She wasn't quite sure what to say. Then: 'I promised Maysie I wouldn't release you.'

'Good,' said the nude, chained woman. 'I had to come away from your place. It was time. I didn't have a choice. If Aunt Elena found out I was late for this, well...' she shrugged, her chains rattling a little.

'How long have you got to be here?'

'Three hours. I worry about Maysie while I'm locked up.' Another little movement, another tinkle of chain.

Susannah nodded. She'd never had kids herself but she understood it was a parent's eternal dilemma. 'Don't worry. I can look after her, make sure she's okay. Sorry, I should have asked: are you allowed to speak?'

'Sure. I don't have a gag every time.' A small smile - the first Susannah had seen from the woman. It made her look more attractive, appealing.

Susannah almost said: 'You should smile more often,' but thought better of it.

'But I am supposed to be on my own.' She nodded at the only other thing on the wall, another eyebolt. Chains hanging from them, steel chains with manacles open. 'Sometimes I think it would be good to have company, but Aunt Elena says not. Still... Chained up on my own gives me time to think.' Another small but heart-warming smile.

'Those chains there. They are Maysie's, aren't they?'

'Yeah,' sighed Zara. 'She has smaller cuffs than me. Narrower collar.'

'I should leave you,' said Susannah quietly. 'Now I know you're okay.'

'I am. Just one thing, Mrs Johnston -'

'Please. Susannah.'

'One thing, Susannah. Maysie mustn't watch TV, while I'm here. It's a rule.'

'Okay. Too much TV isn't good for kids anyway.' Susannah stepped out of the room, not looking back even though she wanted to. She closed the door and clicked the padlock shut.

Maysie was waiting, a mixture of wide-eyed innocence and furrowed concern on her pretty face.

'Your Mommy's fine,' said Susannah. 'And now we have to go and do something. You and me.'

The child grinned slowly. 'I really like you,' said the little girl.

'And I adore you, angel,' said Susannah, taking the child's hand.

---

Susannah called her husband, told him the dinner was spoiled. That he should get something to eat on the way home. Maybe go with his colleagues to a bar. Enjoy the evening. Especially as there was a MWGN meeting which he always hated.

Maysie watched and listened, curious. 'Is that Mr Johnston?' she asked, when the woman put the phone down.

'That's right honey,' smiled the woman.

'Does he know about me and Mommy being chained up?'

'Of course not sweetheart. Nobody does. Just you and me and I guess Aunt Elena.' The woman paused. 'He isn't going to know either. Nothing to do with anyone else.'

Maysie nodded.

Susannah squatted to be at the same level as the child. 'I guess this is funny, having me over here and Mommy all chained up.'

The little girl nodded. 'It's just me and Mommy,' said the girl.

'How old are you, Maysie?'

'Um, eight. I'll be nine in October. Mommy says I'm a Halloween baby.' The girl chuckled.

'Uh-huh. And a very nice Halloween baby you are too. Tell me, angel, how long has Mommy been chaining herself up?'

Maysie screwed her small face up, working out numbers and dates. 'Um, I think two years. No, maybe three.' A pause as she checked her dates. 'Uh, I think almost three.'

'Okay. And she checks on you, right?'

Maysie's pretty face crumpled up, not understanding.

'I mean, she stops by and sees what you're doing.'

'Um, no... She just calls. Tells Mommy what to do.'

'So, how doe she know,' at this Susannah's heart seemed to pound out of her chest, 'if you are all chained up?'

'Oh, we send her pictures. On the computer.' The small girl pointed at the machine sat in the corner. The screen saver was on. Rotating, random silver loops that could be chain links, Susannah thought. Maysie skipped to the PC. 'See, I sent these pictures. I know how to do that. Mommy taught me.'

The child wiggled the mouse and the screen saver dissolved. There were three photos, taken with a digital camera, that showed the view inside the romp room with Zara chained up. In one she was stood, arms out to show that both her ankles and wrists were attached with chains and head up to show her throat. In the other she was kneeling, looking suitably soulful and in the third she was sat on the floor.

Each picture had a time stamp on it. Susannah checked her watch: they were taken no more than ten minutes before she arrived at the Little's front door.

'I download Mommy's pictures. Then I click here and here and send them,' said Maysie, proud of her skill on the computer.

'To Aunt Elena?' A pointless question, but it might help the child open up.

'Sure.'

'And where does she live?'

'Um...' Maysie wrinkled her nose. Her geography probably wasn't good. 'Not where we lived before,' she added.

'You met your Aunt Maysie?'

'She's not my aunt,' laughed the child. 'Mommy's aunt. She pays for our houses.' Maysie dropped her voice, as if worried about being overheard. 'We have to move every year. Um, no... every six months.'

'I see. And pictures of you, too. Does your Mom send those to her aunt?'

'Of course. Aunt likes them a lot.'

Susannah's heart was thumping hard again. 'Great. Can I see some?'

'Sure,' said the girl, clicking on the mouse as she navigated her way round the screen. At once a series of thumbnail images opened - pairs of picture almost identical. Not Zara, but Maysie. Pictures from some other house, not the romp room that Susannah had seen.

The woman stared at the screen. The thumbnails showed the child in various poses - some like the ones her mother was in, holding her little arms out so the chains could be seen. Five of them, holding the girl to the wall. In one or two she was kneeling, several had her sitting. But the thing that electrified Susannah - if she could be electrified any more - was that Maysie was naked.

And several of the images showed her spreading her legs to show her small, perfectly hairless cunny. Even better (for a reason she didn't understand Susannah thought it was better) the child was bent over, legs apart and spreading her little ass cheeks to show both her holes. 'Can you, uh, click on that one.' Susannah pointed at one of the images, where Maysie was bending over with her ass to the camera, looking back over her shoulder and smiling.

Susannah couldn't believe it but her hand was shaking as she pointed. But that would go with her pulsing, wet cunt.

Maysie clicked the picture open. It filled the screen and the pale flesh, small slit and puckered hole loomed large. Susannah gave a sharp intake of breath as she noticed that the time stamp showed the image was taken just three weeks ago.

'You... you didn't mind Mommy taking your picture like that?' Susannah could barely get the words out.

'No! Mommy likes me to look happy for Aunt Elena's pictures.' The little girl paused. 'Unless I can't smile.'

'Meaning what, sweetheart?'

'When I'm gagged. That's when Auntie wants Mommy to gag me.'

Susannah thought she would swoon clean away. 'C-can I see a picture of you gagged?'

'Yeah. There's some good ones.' Maysie clicked a few more times and more thumbnails came up, most of which showed the child with something in her mouth. Ring gags, ball gags, leather wedges. One or two were cloth, a knot of fabric between the child's teeth. One looked like a horses bit, a harness over the child's head. A pair of pictures, like before.

'Which one's your favorite?' asked Susannah. She felt her juices soaking through her pants, expecting to feel them run down the inside of her legs.

'I like them all,' said the child innocently. She clicked on one and it sprang large: a red rubber ring set in the little girl's mouth, the strap round her head. 'I look funny in this one. Mommy says she can put anything in my mouth - and I hate jelly!'

'Does Mommy make you eat jelly, with that gag?'

'Um, no... But she says she could if I don't behave.'

'Are you, uh, chained when you're gagged?' Susannah couldn't tell as the images were all close ups. Just head and shoulders. Not even enough neck to tell if there was a collar on the child.

'Course not,' said the girl. 'Gags are just gags. You just wear them any old time.' She said it as if was obvious.

Maysie,' said the woman, straightening up. 'You think, as I'm looking after you while Mommy's chained up, I could see you in a gag?'

There was no hesitation from the child. She hopped off the chair by the computer, saying she'd go and get one. Susannah, left alone, clicked on more thumbnails - and noticed that the pictures were duplicated because the time stamps were several hours apart. A fierce lust burned in her, realizing that the child was gagged for as much as four hours though some were just two hours. Never less.

Susannah understood that the images were in pairs to show the start and finish times. Aunt Elena must be very specific, she decided.

Maysie reappeared holding a gag. A red rubber ball gag that looked almost too big for the little girl to wear comfortably. 'Here,' she said. 'Shall I put it on for you?'

'You put it on? But I thought your Mommy wo-'

'No! Silly!' Maysie chuckled. 'We put our own gags and chains on. Aunt Elena says we have to do it ourselves.'

'And you take them off?'

'We can't take our chains off,' the girl snickered. 'They're locked!'

'Honey... um, in the pictures of you in chains you were, well, naked. You think you should take your pretty dress off when you gag yourself?'

'Sure. I always do.' The child held her hands up and out.

Susannah looked puzzled.

'You have to undress me,' explained the girl. 'Mommy always undresses me. It's the rule.'

'Oh, my,' gasped the woman. If her senses weren't reeling they sure were now.

Her hands were shaking almost violently as she unbuttoned the child's bright yellow sun dress in the back, and eased it off Maysie's shoulders. Perhaps Susannah shouldn't have been surprised but the child was naked underneath, save for a pair of thin, lace panties. Black lace. Not something you'd expect a little girl to wear. But erotic nonetheless.

'The pants too?' whispered Susannah, and the girl nodded. Taking a deep breath the woman slid the delicate lace down the child's legs and off her.

'Oh I have to keep my shoes and socks on,' said Maysie. 'Hope you don't mind.'

'No I don't. Why should I, honey?'

Maysie merely grinned and proceeded to buckle the gag in her mouth, forcing the red rubber ball deep between her teeth, stretching her face and distending her jaw. It looked cruel and uncomfortable and real sexy. She deftly buckled it tight behind her head, patted the straps on her cheeks and dropped her hands, via a "I'm done here" gesture.

But what happened next floored Susannah. The child went to the side of the computer and brought out the family's digital computer. She held it out to the woman.

'Aaathh muuuhh ihhh-uuure,' she said and repeated it. 'Take my picture,' was the nearest Susannah could get to understanding it.

The woman took the camera and began to take pictures of Maysie, the little girl turning this way and that to show her gag, bending over as instructed to show her cute ass and cunny. Kneeling and sitting and posing, the child's eyes sparkling with a joy Susannah had never seen before.

There was a joy in the woman she'd never felt before, too. As she took what must have been the twentieth photograph of Maysie gagged, she knew what she had to do.

'Honey,' she said, putting down the camera. 'I have to do something. Well, you and me.'

The gagged child looked at the woman, an intrigued curiosity in her large, pretty eyes. 'Huuunnnth' she said.

Was that a yes? Susannah grinned. It didn't matter: she was in charge of the little girl. Not her mother, who was chained and locked away.

Susannah settled on the chair in front of the computer. Legs apart, right after she had peeled off her sopping wet pants and tossed them aside. 'Listen sweetheart, I'm going to sit here like this and look at all the pictures of you and your mommy on the computer. Now, what I want you to do is kneel in front of me so your pretty little gagged mouth is right here, see?' The woman pointed to her glisteningly wet cunt with all its matted hair and the red gash of her sex, her nether lips obvious and slicked with the thin cream of arousal.

Maysie barely hesitated as she did as she was told, her face a few inches from the hot, wet and reeking sex of the middle-aged woman. 'That's good honey but I need you closer. Right up so your lovely gag is touching me right here.'

The child shuffled forward that little bit until the red rubber ball that filled mouth - and her nose - was pressed into the woman's aching, burning sex.

'Oh, angel,' sighed Susannah. 'I know I'm just going to love this.' She eased forward a fraction and with her left hand took the back of the little girl's head and pressed it into her sex. For a second she wondered if she might smother the child but Maysie was able to move her head to suck in air as she began to wriggle into the cunt before her, adding to the friction and excitement.

As she reached with her other hand for the mouse, Susannah thought the smell of the woman's oozing cunt must be overpowering for the child. But it didn't matter.

'I need you to be real good at this honey. So hands behind back and start rubbing your nose and gag deep in here.' She gasped as the first of the pictures came up on the monitor and Maysie did what she was told.

In front of the woman there was a picture of the little girl sat with her legs wide apart - at least as far as her chains would allow - showing her cunny and grinning at the camera. The same girl who was rubbing furiously between her open legs.

---

Susannah and Zara sat in the quiet of the living room, sipping coffee. The morning light was falling across their legs where they sat side by side on the sofa.

'How long has Maysie got?' asked Susannah.

'Still another three hours,' said Zara, checking her watch.

'Does she usually have that long?'

'Depends,' said Zara. 'Aunt Elena sometimes says an hour, usually two or three. Sometimes four. Like today.'

'I want to talk to you about this aunt of yours,' said Susannah, putting down her cup. 'Maysie told me a little about her yesterday.'

Zara blushed. 'She shouldn't have. Aunt Elena won't like it.'

'Listen, Zara. We agreed after you came out of the room last night that I could help. You said you wanted me to help. But I can't if you won't answer my questions.'

The mother nodded but her face signaled she was wrestling with something inside. 'Aunt Elena said tha-'

'No, not her! This is about us.'

'Us?' Zara stared at the older woman.

'Yes, us. Listen to me.' Susannah leant forward, almost as if she was going to kiss Zara. But she was leaning to make her point. 'I said I would help you. But already I don't want to lose you.'

'Lose me?'

'Both you and Maysie. I've waited all my life for this - except maybe I didn't know it. When I was chaining myself up as a teenager I dreamed I would meet someone who understood.' The briefest pause as she swallowed. 'Uh... Someone I can love.'

Zara stared, not knowing what to say.

Susannah looked unhappy for a moment but rallied. 'This Elena, your aunt. She pays for all this, right? You told me she pays for everything for you both. Yeah, right down to the chains and gags. But in six months time she wants you to move again. You told me yourself. That means you can never settle, Maysie can never make friends.'

'We can't!' Tears were forming in Zara's deep, clear eyes. 'She pays for everything so we ha-'

'Then I'll pay! So you can stay with me, here. You won't have to answer to her. No more pictures, no more hiding.'

'B-but... the chains... and the gags!'

'The chains will stay. The gags too. I'll be the new Aunt Elena. I'll keep you both gagged and chained.' Susannah paused. 'Tell me, when was the last time you saw this aunt?'

'Uh...' Zara looked bewildered. A tear rolled down her soft, smooth cheek. Inside Susannah something fluttered.

Then a light dawned in Susannah. Years of being the most neighborly person, of putting your nose into other people's business, into their lives paid off. Listening to all the gossip suddenly gave her the insight she needed. 'Of course! This woman - this person - you've never met her have you? You don't even know what she looks like. If it is a her!'

Zara looked defeated. She gave the merest nod. 'It was just on the net. In a chat room. This woman said she would help me. I was on my own with Maysie. She was five and I didn't know what to do because I had no money. This woman, who I had to call Elena, said she would pay for me and my daughter if we did what she wanted.'

'So you believed her?'

'I had to because she did pay. You see, this money arrived. Ten thousand dollars. It had a note, saying that some of it had to purchase a better computer, a digital camera and some chains. She aid I had to shop for some gags and gave me the addresses where I could go. Then we had to wear them, take pictures and send them to her.'

'And your daughter went along with this?'

'Not at first. She cried, but when I told Aunt Elena she insisted that I picture her crying. But if I didn't get her to do wear chains and be gagged there'd be no more money. So... I persuaded her.'

'Like the practice chains.' It was a statement, not a question.

The mother nodded, blinking her tears away. 'When I let Maysie play in her practice chains she began to get used to them. Then she started wearing a gag all on her own, so I knew she was okay. As soon as I sent the pictures of Maysie in her chains and gags the money started to come in fast.'

'But this person also said you had to move on.'

The young woman wiped away another tear. 'Yes,' she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. 'Every six months to a new house. It had to be at least fifty miles from where we were before, and we could never go back to the same place again.' The woman sniffed loudly. 'Maysie couldn't make any friends... I couldn't either. I was so lonely. I am so lonely!'

'Well, you're not now,' said Susannah. 'And never again.'

'Really?' Zara looked at the older woman, a mix of hope and disbelief on her face. 'But I don't understand...'

'I divorce my husband Jake, get my share of everything - much more than my share as the bastard's been fucking his secretary - and you and Maysie move in with me. You don't have to keep running and hiding any more. I'll be the new Aunt Elena, but better. You can both be chained and gagged, but when I say it.' Susannah said it tenderly, lovingly. 'I can't wait to be Aunt Susannah.'

Without warning Zara flung her arms round the older woman and planted a kiss on her lips. It was probably meant to be a kiss of gratitude but it was more than that. Susannah felt it change, dissolve into a longer more passionate kiss. Open mouthed, tongues probing.

Their hands were on each other, even before they broke the kiss, groping for each other's breasts. Susannah instinctively eased her legs apart and felt a hand slide up inside, seeking that sweet, hot center. It would have been inside already damp pants - if Susannah hadn't removed them before visiting.

Fingers slid easily inside and Susannah gasped at the delight. And they still kissed and groped.

Zara was moaning something about wanting to love Susannah as she kissed eagerly. In response, the older woman took a handful of Zara's hair and dragged the young woman's face back away from her, breaking the kiss. Susannah stared into the young woman's beautiful eyes. 'Listen, Zara, I want you to love me. But I want you and your daughter to be naked and wear chains and gags and do what I say to please me. That's the most important thing of all. Understand?'

The young mother understood and whimpered her agreement.

A fire was raging in Susannah, and not just because two of Zara's long fingers had already slid inside her cunt. They were still there, but stationary for now. The young woman nodded as best she could with her hair held tight. 'Yes,' Zara breathed. 'Anything.'

'Then get undressed and fetch me chains and a gag. You are going to wear both and do to me what Maysie did to me last night. Right here on the sofa. Then we will go and release Maysie, but you'll be in your chains so she can see what Aunt Susannah wants.'

'Wha- what do you want me to do?' There was a fire in Zara's eyes.

'Pleasure me, with your face.' Susannah chuckled. 'Didn't Maysie tell you last night that's what we did, while you were chained up in the romp room?'

Zara could only moan in excitement. She ran to get the chains and the gag - a ring gag so she could get her tongue through.

---

Maysie understood there were no more practice chains. Only real ones.

She also understood that Aunt Susannah wanted her gagged while she was chained sometimes. Sometimes, when she got home from school and wasn't playing with one of her friends or doing some after-school club, she went to get herself into her own chains. Ready for the evening.

Sometimes she saw Mommy in her chains, but not often these days. Not now Mommy had a good job and was often out at work when Maysie got home from school.

But as always, Aunt Susannah would be there to greet the child, kiss her (open mouth, of course), check she had her little anal dildo still in place and then send her to get into her chains and choose a gag.

Then it would be an hour of working her face into Aunt's wet cunt, followed by being fastened up in the new garage with all its devices and benches and waiting for Mommy to come home. Well, she couldn't be in the romp room. That was reserved now for when her or her Mommy had been very naughty and was chained up for the whole weekend without food.

Like Maysie had been a couple of weeks ago when she hadn't used the bathroom fully when told she had to.

But the little girl knew she might not see Mommy, that Mommy might be busy for a while when she got home. Depending how Aunt Susannah was feeling.

Only then could they all sit down to their meal as a family with mother and daughter chained and naked and Aunt with her big black strap-on cock, glistening and ready for some fun.

Of course, Maysie missed the pictures but every so often they would have a photo session and people all round he world who paid could see how cute Maysie looked in her chains and gag, showing off her little slit and asshole - no matter what was inserted in it.

Or some of the selected ladies from Mayfield would be invited round so the little girl (and sometimes her Mommy, when they were busy or it was a special party) could kneel and rim them all out and play with their naked tits and vaginas - the chains tinkling as they caressed and fondled the breasts and pussy on offer.

Even bend over for a spanking game, if that's what the ladies wanted to play.

After all that was the proper Good Neighborly thing to do, said Aunt Susannah.