Neither of the girls went skiing the next day. Cushla woke first of the three - that seemed to be her curse this trip, she thought ruefully, given that she was also lying across Ethan and partly under Colleen. How long she lay there for before deciding she had to get out of there, she wasn’t sure, but what ensued was some careful, slow wriggling as she attempted to extricate herself without waking either of them.

She made it to the edge of the bed and a sitting position, rubbing blearily at her eyes, then padded barefoot out into the kitchen, where she poured a glass of water and stood with it, squinting out of the window into the dark beyond.

“Hey,” her friend’s soft voice said quietly from behind her. Cushla looked over her shoulder and saw her friend walking sleepily across. She made a sympathetic face.

“Sorry I woke you,” she said.

“It’s fine,” Colleen said. “Well, I’m not sure it is, but you waking me up early is the least of our problems right now.”

Cushla’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Problems?”

Colleen frowned at her. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“I mean… we’re probably not getting out on the slopes that much.”

Colleen sighed. “Cushla, we have to do what that man tells us.”

“I know,” Cushla said.

“That’s a pretty big problem, don’t you think?”

“Last night he had me out… performing… at a strip club,” Cushla told her, after a moment considering the right way to mention this. “That’s where I really was while you were sat home wondering why I’d ditched you - you get why I ditched you now, right?”

“Well, I definitely get that you didn’t have any choice in the matter,” Colleen said tartly. “I suppose you weren’t allowed to tell me anything, either?”

“Exactly that, yes.” Cushla said. “But that’s not the point. Do you know how I felt?”

“I assume pretty embarrassed!”

“Well, actually, that was a huge turn-on.”

“And you didn’t think that was weird?”

Cushla realised suddenly that she hadn’t really thought about it since. Of course, she hadn’t remembered it until Ethan had arrived last night, with Colleen entranced by the flame.

She’d been told not to remember, and so it had simply and obediently vanished from her mind. In hindsight, she didn’t feel embarrassed. She wondered if she should do; considering everything that had happened, probably she should be, but looking back it was her initial audition being dismissed as ‘not ready for prime time’ that embarrassed her more than anything else.

Like many attractive people, Cushla set no particular store by whether or not she looked hot in general; it could be achingly painful when the wrong person wasn’t attracted, or deeply satisfying when the right person was. In clubs she danced to please herself, not the onlookers.

So for a few moments she was unable to explain to herself why that dismissal had hurt, before she realised it was exactly the way she’d felt, early in her career, when her performance reviews had been particularly biting. It wasn’t the embarrassment of failure to be hot enough; it was the embarrassment of failure to do a job she’d been tasked with. And even that, just as she had been instructed to begin with, was mostly more fuel for pleasure.

Briefly she considered trying to explain this to her friend, but decided almost immediately not to; there was almost no way it would be worth the amount of time explaining it would surely end up taking.

Instead she shrugged and said “We’re getting off the point here.” Into Colleen’s sceptical expression she continued, “What I did feel, the whole time, was real good.”

Leaning back against the countertop, she squirmed, shuddering visibly with the recollection of pleasure. “I don’t really remember what he taught me while I was in trance, but I heard what he taught you, and I’ve got to bet the two are pretty close together. So let me ask you this - last night, when he made you strip down for him. You loved that, didn’t you?”

Colleen cleared her throat, her eyes suddenly shifty. Cushla took some level of pity on her, turning back to the cupboard where the glasses were kept. “Let me get you some water.” At least this way, her friend could admit it without having to see Cushla’s smirk.

“I wouldn’t say I loved it, exactly.”

Cushla filled the glass from the tap. “What would you say?”

Colleen hesitated again. Cushla had no further excuse not to look at the woman she was talking to, so she turned back to face her and smiled expectantly. Still Colleen wouldn’t meet her eye, but she did grudgingly say “It was kind of a turn on.”

“And you wouldn’t have expected that, would you?”

“Definitely not!” She sounded almost offended even to be asked.

“So we agree he did that.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Here’s what I’m getting at. We’re going to save so much money on the apres ski, and we’re going to be having more fun than we would if we actually went skiing.”

Colleen frowned. “That’s your priority?”

She shrugged. “It is what it is,” she said. “But I think under the circumstances, it could be worse.”

“What if-” Colleen cut herself off. She glanced toward the partly-open, shadowy doorway of the bedroom they’d all spent the night in. Leaning forward and pitching her voice much more quietly she picked up again. “What if he doesn’t let us go home?”

Cushla simply hadn’t considered that. She all but froze on the spot, a haunted expression in her eyes. After a long pause of awkward quiet, she said slowly “I hope not.”

“Well, it’s true! We should - do you think we can pack up and sneak out without him noticing? We could probably cash our tickets in and get new flights back. Or just get to Vancouver and have our holiday there.”

“OK,” Cushla said. “That feels a little over the top.”

“What do you mean?” Colleen stared at her in silence for a long moment. “What do you mean?” she hissed again. “The man can make us do whatever he tells us. We need to protect ourselves.”

“I just don’t think…” Cushla broke off, suddenly uncertain. She disagreed, but she was finding that she had no good way to articulate why.

“Oh. My. God.” Colleen was staring at her, mouth agape, eyes wide, and Cushla didn’t much like the expression on her friend’s face, the mingled pity and distaste. “You’re enjoying this.”

“You admitted you were too!” Cushla shot back, stung.

“I still want us to get out of here. We should - do you think the police would believe us?”

“Do you think we could even finish a call with them without him telling us to hang up?”

“Why are you on his side?” The words seemed to force themselves out of Colleen. Cushla shrank back, feeling hurt.

“You shouldn’t be worrying about that.” They both jumped, and Cushla winced. She’d been too loud. They both had, but it was Cushla who’d first taken the conversation from hissed words to something louder. She had to guess he’d heard everything from before they wondered if they’d get to go home.

Both women looked across to see the man who could control them with a phrase standing in the doorway, still nude from the night before, looking at them both. He had been sleeping when they left the room; now he already looked more awake than either of them. That had to be his job.

“Colleen,” he said, “relight the flame.”

Cushla watched her. She couldn’t help it, was fascinated by the process, but that didn’t explain the excitement, the flutter in her belly that went with it. She saw the fear disappear from slackening features, saw a strange peace settle on her, a peace so deep that thought itself was unnecessary.

She looked back at Ethan, who was looking back at her with a completely even expression. Was he expecting her to react? To turn and run?

“Looking forward to it, huh?” he grinned. “Skip a beat, Cushla.”

Cushla’s dizzy, tired, drained head moved seamlessly from her shared fears and uncertainties into an absence of thought. Her mouth hung open, her eyelids fluttered, and her eyes then rolled up into her head. Her body became strangely still. Her head was empty.

She was still aware. “Both of you,” Ethan said, “well done. You’re going to be such good girls. And Colleen, why should you be a good girl?”

“Because good girls get to cum,” she answered dreamily, a lesson he’d spent time teaching her the previous night.

“And?” Ethan prompted.

“And all girls want to cum.”

“Ladies, kiss.”

“I hear and I obey,” they said, nearly in unison. They stepped closer, one pace apiece closing the gap. Colleen opened her mouth into Cushla’s kiss, welcomed her eagerly with her tongue. It was such bliss to obey. And so reliable, too. Even the best days she’d had before this trip, the days with the most happiness, there had been low points to the day.

Her pussy ached with need, a need she hadn’t felt until she had an instruction to obey. It became more intense as their bare breasts brushed against each other; they barely touched, but the warmth and softness of Colleen against her own excited her further. She wasn’t at all sure where the excitement came from; she just knew what she was feeling, and how inevitable it seemed to be.

“Stop,” Ethan instructed, and they stopped, but as they had no other instructions to follow and no initiative of their own they remained almost touching. Cushla could feel Colleen’s sweet warm breath on her lips.

“Come here, Colleen.”

“I hear and I obey,” Colleen said into Cushla’s parted lips. She straightened slightly, turned, and walked away, over to Ethan. Cushla had not been told to look where her friend was going, so she still did not move.

She didn’t even move when she heard the sound of lips kissing skin, or the low, soft whimper of her friend in response.

“Colleen,” he was saying, “the most important thing in your world right now, the thing you want more than you want anything else, is my cock. What is it?”

“I hear and understand,” her friend answered him. “Your cock is the most important thing in my world.”

“That’s right. My cock is more important than your free will.”

“I hear and understand. Your cock is more important than my free will.”

“As long as you stay here, my cock is your standing priority.”

“I hear and understand. As long as I stay here, your cock is my standing priority.” Cushla’s slow, heavy thoughts wondered if he’d meant the innuendo in standing. Either way, she didn’t respond.

“Cushla,” Ethan continued, “did you hear?”

“I hear,” she answered. Her mind was not involved in the process on any level.

“Cushla, do you understand?”

“I hear and understand. Your cock is the most important thing in my world. Your cock is more important than my free will. As long as I stay here, your cock is my standing priority.” With each sentence repeated aloud, the structure felt more real around her. Cushla remembered her time attached to the cross. She felt bound now, as surely as she had then.

And it was just as exciting now as it had been then.

“While you are in Whistler, you are in my power,” he said. He hadn’t prefaced it with anything. But he’d started doing that the night before. After brief consideration, both of the women had tried a response, and he had not corrected them. So they felt they understood how they should respond.

“We hear and understand,” they chorused. “While we are in Whistler, we are in your power.”

“You are both so happy to be under my control,” he continued. “You look forward to each new command.”

“We hear and understand. We look forward to each new command.”

“Good. Now, Cushla, get yourself dressed, go out, and buy us some breakfast fixings.”

“I hear and I obey.”

As she went to collect the clothes she’d discarded at his command the previous night, she heard him continue. “Colleen, when she gets back, you’re cooking the three of us breakfast, and she’ll take over riding my cock. In the meantime, you know your duty.”

I hear and I obey.”

*

Ethan led the two of them, both wrapped up well against the cold, back to Frozen Vice early that afternoon. Considerably earlier in the day, in fact, than Cushla had found her own way there the day before. Apparently this was when he had the time, having disappeared after breakfast and returned only just before telling them to get together and head out.

Both women had spent the intervening time teasing themselves - and each other - to the brink of orgasm, then breaking off to prevent themselves from actually cumming, just as he’d told them to. They hadn’t brought sex toys on holiday - both of them imagining the faces of any customs official who checked, as well as having to be careful with their luggage allowances in the first place - but if they had, Ethan had said, ‘you’d both be treating them like they were my cock, right until I get back.’

“Trish will show you what’s wanted,” he said to them now, having ushered them into the main room. “I’ll be back in time to give you final orders. Until then, listen and learn.”

“We hear and we obey,” the answered.

Ethan raised his voice. “Trish!” he called.

The imposing, confident woman sauntered over, her eyes lighting up delight when she could study the two matched redheads. “Oh, yes,” she said. “This has very definite possibilities.”

“You know it,” Ethan said. He rested one hand on Colleen’s shoulder. “Meet Collar,” he said. “Cuffs you already know. Right, girls?”

“That’s right,” they said in trained and conditioned unison. Their voices and body language had become perkier, even jaunty. “I’m Collar,” Colleen added.

“And I’m Cuffs,” Cushla put in. They united in unison again to complete their little speech. “We’re a matched pair!”

Trish looked between them both and laughed. “Tell me you’ve got a magic word for that.”

“A trigger,” Ethan corrected her, but his tone was light-hearted enough. “Of course I do. It’s ‘Ladies, make yourself known’.”

“I’m Collar,” Colleen exclaimed again, in compelled response to his call.

“And I’m Cuffs,” Cushla put in. They united in unison again to complete their little speech. “We’re a matched pair!”

“I don’t suppose you’ve learned to dance yet,” Trish remarked to Cuffs.

“Ethan likes my lapdance,” she said. “He made me practice a bunch.” She watched the other woman stifle a smirk, but she was too happy to be offended by it. “But Collar can really dance!”

“I guess we’ll see,” Trish said. She looked across to Ethan. “Either way, you’ve definitely earned your money this week.”

Cuffs watched Ethan smile that lazy, confident smile of his. “I’ve earned double,” he said.

“Well, we’ll see on that,” she said. “But Cuffs definitely meant we made more money last night. Tonight’s the word out. If Collar bumps it a lot higher, you might get double.”

“You girls heard her,” Ethan said, and started for the door, off to another job. Over his shoulder he called out, “Make me some money!”

“We hear and we obey,” they answered.

*

They both waited backstage until the night was properly going and some of the dancers had been out multiple times before returning in. Collar paid no real attention to any of it, sitting quietly, running over her orders in her head, feeling the heat simmer between her legs just at the thought of obedience - and the reward she had been promised, later that night, of Ethan’s cock.

At some point, presumably when the correct signal had taken place, Cuffs, who was now wearing a leather choker with matching wristcuffs, leather basque, and PVC short skirt buffed to a shine, all of it in the same deep dark red, with brighter red fishnets and dark red heels, the whole set sourced from Trish’s kink wardrobe, grabbed something from a nearby table and walked over in front of Collar. “Hands,” she said.

It was not an order, but it was a condition in an order Trish had given, and which she had been waiting for. She held out her hands in front of her, her wrists about four inches apart, fists clenched. Cuffs looped a length of chain around them both, then around itself between them, and then attached a padlock to keep this makeshift binding in place. The rest of the chain, another several feet, she kept in hand.

Collar, who wore an outfit very like the one Cuffs had performed in the night before stood. Cuffs made her way over to the curtains that separated this dressing room from the main club, and Collar followed, about three paces behind. Cuffs was holding the chain looped loosely around her hand, enough that no slack in her grip.

They both waited. Trish’s voice came over the speakers. “Gentlemen,” whoever it was announced. “Are you ready for the first big event of the evening?”

From behind the curtain, they could hear the full-fledged enthusiasm of a crowd in a roar of cheers, accompanied by several wolf whistles. It was a far cry from the night before; word had evidently got around.

“That’s good,” Trish continued. “Because we have a treat for you all tonight. We spared no expense, and Frozen Vice remains the only place in town where you can see a tourist bunny get… what… she… deserves!”

The cheers continued for a few moments and hushed abruptly rather than die away; clearly Trish had done something to quiet the crowd. “But we can do you even better today,” she said. “I see a few faces around we don’t see often, and it’s great to see you here. But this question is for the regulars.” She paused. Even through the quiet, even with a curtain separating them, Collar could feel the anticipation building, stronger and stronger. Her thighs clenched together.

“This question is for the regulars. Do you remember our tourist bunny yesterday?”

There were no words clearly distinguished in the roar, but the sound was clearly affirmative.

“Well, I had that young woman in my cuffs overnight,” Trish continued. “And I’ve been working on her, so now she sees things from our point of view.”

There was still raucous merriment on the other side of the curtain, but it was less united now. Someone drunk screamed “WE LOVE YOU, TRISH!”

“Buy me a drink then,” she responded, and the assembled crowd burst into a laugh that was almost a wall of sound. Collar thought that they must have most of the male locals out there waiting for her performance with her friend. “Anyway,” Trish continued. “Cuffs has found another silly tourist bunny who needs to learn better. And she’s prepared to teach her. But only if you want to see it.”

More cheering, and the focus it had had originally was back. “If you want to see it,” Trish continued, raising her amplified voice over the mob, “all you have to do is chant… her… name!”

There was only a moment of confusion. Maybe they’d done something similar to this double act before, although the way Trish had been talking about it Collar thought this was an extra wrinkle. Or maybe most of the people chanting didn’t catch on to her name, even though Trish had used it that way. Maybe they were just drunk enough to only catch on quite slowly.

In any case, it was only a moment before a few voices started to lead the crowd, more of the audience joining in with each repetition.

“CUFFS! CUFFS! CUFFS! CUFFS!”

The chant was as raucous as any in any sporting stadium.

Cuffs tugged on the chain and marched through the curtain, with Collar following her closely.

Her face did not match the calm she felt inside. Instead she looked confused, bewildered, and apprehensive.

In truth, Collar was none of these things. Cuffs had told her what to expect to happen. Trish had explained to her how it would feel and what she would think about it. But she had also told her how to look.

Collar was no actress, but the expression on her face convinced everyone there. The men cheered again at her unveiling, lifting beer bottles high in the air in a salute of welcome.

Cuffs turned to face her and gripped the chain more firmly. She tugged, and Collar tugged away, but Cuffs tugged again.

Collar had been told to lose this tug of war, which was a good thing, as she was and always had been naturally stronger than Cuffs and could have jerked the other woman off balance, especially in those heels. She stumbled forward, fetching up pressed against Cuffs, who reached around to grope Collar’s buttock, making contact with an audible smack. She looked at the crowd, who roared their approval, and then squeezed.

Pleasure fizzed through Collar, filling her with an intensity beyond her expectation. It was all to be exceeded quickly, though, as Trish handed a crop to Cuffs, who used several quick, strikingly loud blows to Collar’s backside to steer her up against one of the large wooden crosses. Each impact throbbed through Collar, seeming to her to resonate with her clit exactly as it would best.

Cuffs and Trish combined to strap Collar to the cross, her feet bound together against the upright, her hips also secured to it, and her wrists attached to the underside of the crossbar by chains.

Then Cuffs settled to one knee in front of Trish, head bowed. She rested the crop across both palms and lifted it to the other woman as if it was a tribute.

Trish took it, placing the end of the crop under Cuffs’ chin and lifting her gaze up. She produced the same knife she had used the day before and handed it to Cuffs with a flourish, indicating the audience.

Collar lifted her gaze to look over the audience just as Cuffs did. The place was packed, almost everyone not on the stage was male, and the attention of everyone in front of them except the bouncer and a very bored looking bartender was on them both.

She moaned faintly with anticipation. There was something about this performance, about being the focus of so many horny men, that thrilled through her. Impossible for her to say whether that was her own feeling or something Ethan had changed in her. She realised she was quietly glad of that; if she might have felt this way anyway, it seemed to her it would have been more embarrassing to know it was her own instinct doing it than it was to wonder.

Her gaze found Ethan, returned from his work and lounging against the bar, watching and smiling approvingly. It made her feel even better.

Cuffs showily cut away all of Collar’s clothing, to the absolute approval of the crowd. Then she reached up to her own neck and undid the buckle on the collar she wore. Taking it off, she held it up for another cheer from the crowd, before wrapping it around Collar’s throat and fastening it in place.

By now, Trish was standing back several paces, allowing the locals to enjoy it; one tourist bunny turncoat working on another. She raised the microphone to her lips again. “What do you say, Cuffs? Do we break her spirit with pleasure the way we broke yours?”

The entire crowd could see the change in Cuffs; her body language oozed arousal and agreement. They cheered their own approval, but it was obvious to any observer that Cuffs and Trish were paying attention mostly to each other and to their captive.

Cuffs marched smartly to the side of the stage and came back twirling a wand vibrator around one wrist, the other one paying out its power cable as she went. This was duly lashed to Collar, the head against her mound, the wand against her thighs, and she spasmed and cried out as they turned it on, so deeply primed was she already.

Trish cued up the dancers to come out again and Cuffs faded into the background alongside Collar, toying with her occasionally just to make the occasional moan or whimper carry across the space, but the dancers were given the time they needed to earn their own attention and money.

By the time the night ended and Collar was released Cuffs and Ethan needed to support her to get home. Her brain was fizzing with pleasure. Her concerns about Ethan’s intentions were entirely gone.

*

The shuttle bus was carrying them back to Vancouver, ready for the first leg of their return flight. They were well past city limits, and Colleen was only just starting to think of herself again as Colleen, not Collar.

In a quiet voice, she asked “So who are you right now?”

Her friend gave a soft chuckle. “I know what you mean,” she said. “I’m mostly Cushla. I think.”

Colleen nodded. “How long do you think before you message him?” Privately she had already decided to send him her first topless selfie early on the morning after they got back; long enough that she felt it wouldn’t look too eager, but soon enough to keep him eager in his turn.

“I’m going to see how long I can hold out,” Cushla said. “I think probably I can last a week. After that, probably I’ll reach out more often, but it’s good to know you can have self-control, you know?”

It wasn’t the answer Colleen had hoped to hear. She was quiet for a while, mulling it over.

“We should do the occasional joint message, though,” Cushla said, surprising her. “Maybe once a month or so. Something to remind him of his biggest moneymakers so far.”

Colleen blushed happily.

That was what he’d called them after the third night of their run, the night where Trish had tied their wrists behind their backs, bound their breasts into display with shibari knotwork, and led them through the crowd, which tucked bills into the knotwork as a way to grope them. It was a happier memory than she would ever have imagined it could be, if you’d presented her with a hypothetical scenario beforehand.

“We should definitely do that,” she agreed. “And we need to get the same time booked off next year.”

“Sure, sure.” Cushla agreed and giggled. “I’ve got someone in mind from work to invite along with us.”

Colleen returned her flashing smile. “I’ve got to start thinking about that myself,” she agreed. They knew how eager Frozen Vice would be to see loyal bunnyguards (as Trish had started calling them) ‘catching’ more tourist bunnies for discipline. And they knew from experience just how happy their friends would be about it once Ethan had the chance to put it all right.

“I might go in for a tattoo, you know,” Colleen said thoughtfully. “Get a permanent version of that E he put on us.” Not that the wax signatures had even stayed on their body for the entirety of that first obedient night.

“Oh, now that’s a lovely idea. That’ll bring pleasure just like we should,” Cushla agreed. “Count me in.”

They were companionably quiet the entire flight back, chatting in low enough voices that any reminiscing was overlooked, and they landed neither drunk nor hungover but happy.

It was the best vacation of their old lives, and the start of something better for them - and for each friend they’d trick back out to one of the holiday apartments Ethan worked at.