Annabelle and Bridget, Part Two

Meredith

Bridget.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

The thought of anyone but Annabelle seeing me in the cage I was currently locked in was daunting enough. Before I had fully processed the fact that she was calling someone into her bedroom, however, I met eyes with Bridget.

What- How? Why . . . ? My throat suddenly felt very dry, and my heart rate dramatically increased as I cupped my bare breasts with my hands. It wasn’t as if I was scared of Bridget; I was just used to us being on a level playing field.

Her skirt/blouse combo was a little more formal than what I was used to seeing her in. It could be her new style, as a year of university tends to mature people in that sense. Or, of course, she could be dressing up for Annabelle. Between how gorgeous the redhead was, not to mention the mansion she lived in, it was difficult to not put in the effort when coming over. Honestly, it didn’t matter. Bridget could be wearing a garbage bag, and I’d still feel awkward about the fact that I was so exposed by comparison.

“You two already know each other, right?” Annabelle asked. It was beyond rhetorical. Not only did Bridget just say my name, but there was a 0% chance this was some huge coincidence. That, and Annabelle already brought Bridget up the other day. Back when I thought I had successfully blocked my old rival from taking the lucrative job I had briefly considered giving up.

My voice had abandoned me completely. I just glanced from one girl to the other, while my mind raced as quickly as my heart was beating. Should I say something to Annabelle about this? Snap at Bridget and tell her to leave? Find a way to make myself wake up? My past and my present were colliding in a way that felt almost surreal, considering the state I was in, which is no doubt why my head was spinning and why my words were failing me.

“Of course!” Bridget exclaimed. Clearly, she had no hang-ups about this whole thing. She also hadn’t seemed that surprised by the sight of me collared and caged. Either Annabelle had told her what to expect to some degree, or Bridget had a remarkable poker face. “We knew each other in high school. I never knew she was into this kind of stuff. If I had, maybe we would have gotten along better!”

Annabelle tilted her head, “You two didn’t get along?”

“Nope! She was always a bit stuck-up, and claimed she was better at mathematics.”

“And was she?”

Bridget shrugged. “Whatever. I never took it as seriously as she did. Yet here I am, top of my class. How hard do you have to work to be the same, Mere?”

That’s right. She had greeted me with Annabelle’s nickname for me as well. Bridget was a bit of a brat back then, but she never came up with something like that. That was enough to verify she wasn’t coming into this blind. So how much had told her? And why was Bridget here in the first place?!

“Annabelle, please-” I began, flushing a bit at how meek I sounded, and also not getting very far before I was cut off.

“PET. Address me properly. And no speaking until you’re spoken to. Do you understand?”

‘Yes, Ms. Annabelle.’ It was a little embarrassing how I could feel the words on the tip of my tongue. I hadn’t even been with Annabelle that long in the grand scheme of things, but she and Trixie had thoroughly trained me through repetition. Except Bridget was here, which somewhat broke the spell. Normally, Annabelle’s suite served as a way to disassociate from my day to day university life. My former rival brought reality crashing back in, and it wasn’t as if I was as used to the cage or the nudity as I was the collar.

Unable to commit to the ‘obedient pet’ game under these circumstances, I muttered, “Annabelle. Let me out? And . . . privacy?” The whole thing still sounded as if I was asking for permission. This was also her room. It felt weird trying to kick her out, even if I did have a good reason to.

The young redhead just sighed. “Not very brave, Mere. But, fine; do what you want. Your bra is on the coffee table.” She reached into her own bra, which was easy enough in the skimpy dress she was wearing, and procured a key. Haphazardly tossing it my direction, where it clattered on top of the kennel for a moment before slipping between the bars and landing off to my side. “Come on, Bridget.” With that, she took my peer’s hand and they walked out of the room together.

Well, despite how she had left me locked up in her room recently, Annabelle didn’t seem interested in using that to her advantage. Consent, and all. Not that I had really ever said ‘no’ to the girl along the way. Her reply was nonchalant enough, though the subtle disappointment managed to ring through. It was surprisingly effective on me, too.

I let out a sigh of relief when Bridget was no longer within sight and quickly grabbed the key. The lock was on the outside, unfortunately, so it took a minute of struggling to get it undone while being careful the whole time to not accidentally fumble the key and risk it falling out of the cage. I could probably call Annabelle back in for help; that would just be such a painful experience.

Finally managing to do it, I crawled out of the cramped space and made sure to keep my hands fully over my breasts. It would have been nice if she tossed the bra in or something, not that anything was simple when it came to Annabelle.

Tentatively stepping out of the bedroom, not sure what to expect, I slowly peeked around the corner . . .

I definitely wasn’t prepared to see Annabelle and Bridget making out on the sofa.