by Van ©2015
		Chapter 7

Locked in Viviene's bedroom, naked, and bound with moss-green cord from shoulders to toes, Kennedy lay in Vivienne's arms and listened to her equally naked but unbound friend tell her tale.  Kennedy also continued eating, enjoying both the delicious club sandwich halves and the excellent rosé her fellow prisoner was feeding her.

"You know I had no definite plans after graduation," Viv began.  "I went to Auntie Renee's place in Chicago to vegetate for a while and figure things out.  Auntie knew I liked to paint and write, so she put me in touch with some of her gallery and publishing friends—you know, networking—then suggested I come out here to the Castle to live.  She also explained my financial situation."

Kennedy continued eating and listening.

"I know I never told you," Viv sighed, "but my parents were loaded.  The entire Vidler family is loaded, and Auntie Renee most of all."  Vivienne gave a little shrug.  "Sorry I never told you when we were starving students," she said with a delicate blush, "but Auntie has always told me to keep the family fortune a close secret, to avoid moochers."  Her eyes widened.  "Not that you're a moocher, Ken-doll."

Kennedy swallowed a mouthful of well-masticated sandwich.  "It's hard to be a mooch when you don't know your roommate is moochable."   She took another bite of sandwich.

Viv's smile returned.  "Anyway," she continued, "it turns out I've got a humongous trust fund.  Auntie offered to manage it for me, since I never took any business or economics classes, and I said yes, of course.  I met with a gaggle of lawyers, signed a bunch of papers, came out here, and here we are."

"Here we are?" Kennedy demanded.  "Are you kidding me?"

Vivienne grinned.  "Would I kid a McKidd?"

It was an old joke between them, and Kennedy's response was her usual: a silent stare.

"Okay, there's more," Vivienne giggled.  By this time Kennedy had finished the last of the first sandwich half, so she held the glass for her fellow prisoner to drink.

Kennedy noticed that the stemmed glass was acrylic, which greatly reduced its value as an anti-Lena device.  Also, the plate was durable plastic, also unsuitable as an escape aid or weapon.  Viv held up a second sandwich half.  "Okay, continue," Kennedy muttered, and took a bite.  She had to admit, Lena might be a psycho kidnapping bitch, but she could throw together a good sandwich.

"Okay, we got here, to the Castle, Auntie introduced me to Lena, and I moved in."  Vivienne paused to sip from the glass.  "At first, everything was fine.  Then..."  She stared into space for a few seconds, then heaved a sigh.  "We found the stuff in the basement, and... started playing."

"Oh, Viv," Kennedy sighed, then took another bite.

"I know," Viv sighed, "but it was fun.  It is fun."

"You realize you're being manipulated, don't you?" Kennedy muttered.

"Yes," Viv admitted, "but it's more than that.  I've seen the quarterly reports.  Auntie Renee isn't looting my fund.  In fact, it's growing.  And I'm selling paintings.  And my books are selling.  And Mistress Lena...  It's fun."

"So one day, you decided to ask Auntie Renee to kidnap your old friend Ken-doll?" Kennedy growled.

"Well, when you put it that way, no," Vivienne answered.  "And yes."

Kennedy stared at her friend but said nothing.  She knew Viv was anything but an airhead.  She did tend to dither now and then, but she was actually quite sharp.  So, how did she—how did they—wind up as prisoners in a "castle" in the wilds of Upper Michigan?

"At some point," Viv continued, "Lena told Auntie that I was bored, or blocked, or both.  Auntie already knew about you, and..."  Vivienne blushed.  "She knew I was sort of in love with you, so she came up with the whole inventory thing, and—"

"Wait," Kennedy interrupted.  "Sort of in love with me?"

Viv's blush deepened.  "Well...  Yeah.  I'm sorry, Ken-doll.  I can't help it."

For some reason, Kennedy was also blushing.  "Uh...  Okay.  I mean... really?"

Viv leaned close and kissed Kennedy's lips.  "Really," she whispered.

"I see," Kennedy whispered back.

Vivienne smiled, but she was still blushing.  "Auntie says after you finish inventorying the Castle, she'll bankroll a small shop for you anywhere you want—Chicago, New York, Boston, wherever.  You can use it as a base for your appraising career."

"That's very generous," Kennedy muttered, "but—"

"Meanwhile, we get to play, with Lena in charge, of course, and—"

"Viv!" Kennedy barked.  "Stifle yourself."

"What?" Vivvienne objected.  "Don't tell me you aren't having fun."

"I'm not having fun," Kennedy said evenly.

"Oh, posh," Vivienne giggled.  "You can't fool me."

Kennedy squirmed in her bonds.  "Look, fun is fun, but there have to be rules.  You know, safe-words and limits and... stuff?"

"Oh, Ken-doll," Vivienne chuckled.  "There are rules.  Rule number one: Mistress Lena is in charge."

Kennedy waited for Viv to continue... but she didn't.  "Rule number two?"

Vivienne grinned.  "Same as the first.  Mistress Lena is in charge.  C'mon, Ken-doll, it'll be fun!"

"Fun," Kennedy huffed.  "I didn't sign up for any of this."  She squirmed in her bonds, again, and winced.

"What is it?" Viv demanded, concern in her eyes.

"My toes," Kennedy muttered.  She wiggled her toes and winced, again.

"Oh, poor Ken-doll," Vivienne sighed, and held up the remainder of the sandwich half.  "Finish eating and I'll take care of your toes."

"Untie me and we'll present a united front," Kennedy said.  "No more games 'til Lena agrees to some real rules.  She can't handle both of us at once."

"Actually, I think she could," Viv sighed.  "She practices one of the martial arts.  I forget the name, but it's Korean and involves take-downs and wrestling holds, and she's good.  Anyway, I'm not anxious to piss her off.  Mistress can be mean when she's angry."

Eyes locked with her supposedly enamored friend, Kennedy leaned forward and took her final bite of sandwich.  Obviously, the entire situation required careful reflection and planning.  Vivienne was smart, scared of Lena, but not all that scared, and... in love with me?  And Lena was big and strong and Kennedy had no idea how far the blonde would take things.  And Kennedy's cord bondage and the locked door were real, even if her captivity—their captivity—was supposedly a game.  And...  Kennedy swallowed.  "You're in love with me?"

Vivienne's blush returned.  "Well... yeah... I think so.  Here."  She held the glass so the object of her professed affection could drink, then carefully returned it to the tray.  "Now, let's see about your toes."

Kennedy watched as Vivienne crawled down the bed on her hands and knees, lifted her bound feet onto her lap, and began untying her toe bonds.

"At least they're not purple," Vivienne purred as she pulled the cord free.  Then, eyes locked with her friend, she lifted Kennedy's bound feet, took her big toes in her mouth, and began licking and sucking.

Kennedy tried to pull away, but Vivienne was too strong for her... or maybe she wasn't trying hard enough.  "Viv, what are you doing?"

"Making them all better," Viv replied, then went back to slobbering all over Kennedy's wiggling toes.

Kennedy shivered in her bonds, bit her lower lip, and squeezed her eyes shut.  Maybe she is in love with me, she thought.

After Vivienne made Kennedy's toes better (by licking and sucking on them for several minutes), she climbed off the bed.  She took with her the cord that had formerly tied Kennedy's wet but recovering toes.

Kennedy watched as Viv opened the lowest drawer of the bedside table, reached inside, and pulled out a wand-style vibrator, the battery-powered kind without a cord.  Uh oh!  "Viv?"  Vivienne ignored her.  The naked pixie was concentrating on tying the cord around the constriction between the wand's knob-like business end and the beginning of the shaft.  The helpless ginger squirmed in her bonds.  This did not bode well.  "Uh... what are you doing?"

Her eyes on her handiwork, Vivienne heaved a sigh.  "Lena may have jumped the gun and things might not be going exactly how I'd hoped..."  She smiled and held up the vibrator for Kennedy's inspection.  "But that doesn't mean we can't have a good time."

Kennedy continued squirming as Vivienne climbed back onto the bed, vibrator in hand.  A few inches of free cord now dangled from the knot she'd tied around the shaft.  "Vivienne Vidler," Kennedy warned her smiling, approaching friend, "don't you dare!"

"Of course I dare, Ken-doll," Viv giggled as she straddled Kennedy's body and settled her weight on her bound legs. "At this point, I might as well dare."

Kennedy tried to kick and buck Vivienne off of her helpless form, but to no avail.  She was equally unsuccessful preventing Viv from nestling the vibrator between her thighs with the head nudged against the moss-green cords cleaving her pussy.  "Viv, stop!"  Nor could she prevent Vivienne from untying the knot securing her thigh bonds and pulling free several inches of the cinching cord.  "Viv, no!"

Viv tucked the toe-cord turned vibrator-cord through Kennedy's crotch-cords and tied a quick knot.  She then re-knotted the thigh cords, looped the now longer free ends through the ring in the base of the vibrator's shaft, and tied another knot.  "That should do it," she giggled in triumph as she climbed off Kennedy and the bed, once again.

Kennedy wiggled and kicked, but the head of the vibrator remained pressed against her cord-cleaved pussy and the shaft remained between her thighs.  "You little twerp," Kennedy huffed, "get this thing off of me.  Don't you dare—Mrrrf!"  Vivienne had recovered the ball-gag and slipped it into Kennedy's mouth while she was busy struggling and complaining.  Kennedy continued struggling and complaining (with significantly less clarity and eloquence), but Viv buckled the gag's strap at the nape of her neck and under her ginger curls without difficulty.  "Nrrrrm!"

Vivienne climbed back onto the bed, again, reclined against the piled pillows, and pulled Kennedy's naked, bound, squirming, and mewling form onto her lap, also again.  "Now..."  She leaned forward and clicked the vibrator's switch from "OFF" to "L," then leaned back, lifted the wine glass from the tray, and took a sip.

Kennedy shivered in her bonds as the vibrator buzzed against her pussy.  She locked eyes with her smiling "friend" and stared daggers.  Unfortunately, her optical cutlery had no more effect on Viv than it had on Lena.  Also... she was finding it difficult to concentrate on being outraged with a vibrator teasing her hoo-haw, even set on "L."

Vivienne returned the wine to the tray and picked up a sandwich half.  "You have fun while I eat my supper," she said, smiling at the bound, gagged, wiggling, and helpless captive.  "You're so beautiful like that, Ken-doll," she sighed, then took a bite of sandwich.

Yeah, I'm freakin' gorgeous, Kennedy fumed.  When I get free, I'm going to—  Her eyes popped wide.  Viv was reaching for the vibrator.  No!  She tried squirming away, but Vivienne countered by scissoring her legs around her cord-bound body.  At the same time, she clicked the vibrator's switch from "L" to "M."  No!  "Mrrrpfh!"

"So.  Beautiful."  Vivienne sighed, and took another bite of sandwich.

It was a long night.

After letting the vibrator buzz Kennedy to orgasm while she ate, Vivienne proceeded to untie all of the sweating, panting redhead's bonds except her wrist and elbow cords.  Then, with Kennedy still her naked, bound, and ball-gagged prisoner, she proceeded to use the vibrator, as well as her sucking mouth, wiggling tongue, nibbling teeth, and nimble fingers to coax and cajole orgasm after orgasm from the reluctant captive.

Reluctant might not be the most accurate of words.

Of course, Kennedy had been entirely and accurately reluctant to participate in the evening's festivities at first, especially before her first orgasm, and even before her second, but by the time Vivienne's head was between her legs and her lips and tongue were tickling, teasing, and titillating Kennedy's flushed, glistening, and hypersensitive pussy towards her third orgasm, reluctance had given way to...  Is there a word for passionate indifference?  If there is, Kennedy's fevered brain wasn't up to the task of trying to remember.  In any case, Kennedy's reluctance eventually gave way to good old-fashioned enthusiasm.

Increasingly for both occupants of the bed, their higher faculties gave way to their animal brains.  With what was left of her higher intellect, Kennedy was becoming increasingly convinced that Vivienne actually was in love with her.  Also, she realized her college roommate was now very experienced in the ways of making love, meaning physical lovemaking, and Viv had been anything but a nympho-slut-bunny back at Lewis & Clark.

Panting and sweating, Kennedy would have loved to discuss any and all of this during rest periods, but for the first half of the evening the ball-gag remained strapped in her mouth.  And later, after Vivienne finally unbuckled the strap and plucked the ball from her mouth, Kennedy was having difficulty forming a cogent thought more complicated than "orgasm good!"  Also, she was too busy demonstrating what she was learning about the arts of carpet-munching, nipple-licking, and face-sucking from her captor, fellow-prisoner, and lover.

Eventually, they collapsed into post-orgiastic comas.  That is, they fell asleep in each others arms.  More correctly, Kennedy was in Vivienne's arms.  The ginger's wrists and elbows were still tied behind her back.

Kennedy's anger returned with the dawn; however, she found that even less of it was directed at Vivienne than before.  As for Lena, that was entirely a different matter.  Kennedy looked forward to giving the blond she-hulk a piece of her mind and sorting out all of this nonsense.  But first...

Kennedy lifted her head and confirmed that Vivienne, her lover, was snuggled against her side and under the tangled bedclothes.  Kennedy had business in the bathroom, so she had no choice but to squirm away and probably wake her equally naked but unbound fellow prisoner.  Her bound wrists and elbows made it awkward, but Kennedy succeeded in extricating herself from Vivienne's loose embrace and the sheets.  She made her way to the bath and managed to empty her bladder and flush the commode without much difficulty.  Splashing water on her face was another matter.  She did manage to turn on the cold water and take a drink from the washbasin's faucet.  What she really needed was a long hot shower, but that would happen only after the rest of her cord bonds were untied.

She passed Vivienne in the bathroom threshold as the brunette pixie hurried to take her place.  They exchanged a quiet "morning."  Kennedy padded to the bed and sat to wait until Viv finished her business.  She heard the toilet flush, water splash in the washbasin, and finally Viv returned.  Her eyes were wet, and Kennedy could tell it wasn't from washing her face.

"Viv," Kennedy said quietly, "what's the problem?  Besides the obvious."

Vivienne's lower lip was trembling.  "You hate me," she sobbed.

Kennedy realized her face had been set in glower-at-Lena mode, and she let it relax into a wry smile.  It didn't take much effort.  "Oh, Viv," she sighed.  "I don't hate you.  Come over here and hug me."

"Hug you?" Vivienne whispered.

"Well," Kennedy drawled, "unless you untie me, I can't hug you."

"Oh, Ken-Doll!" Vivienne cried as she rushed to the bed and pulled her bound lover (she hoped) into a crushing embrace.

"Ooof!" Kennedy complained.  "I said hug me, not crush me."

"Oh Ken-doll," Vivienne sighed, and continued her embrace.

"Uh, look, Viv," Kennedy said after several seconds, "untie me and let's decide how to handle Lena."

"Oh, Ken-doll," Vivienne sighed, "she told me not to—"

"I don't care what Lena said," Kennedy interrupted, "and enough with the 'Oh, Ken-doll,' routine, okay?  Get a grip.  We need a plan, and..."

Just then, they heard the key turn in the bedroom door.  Seconds later the heavy wooden portal swung open to reveal an evilly smiling Lena.  She was dressed in her usual sandals and jeans, but today her top was a black tank-top without an underlying bra.

"These doors are thick," Lena said, "but if you listen carefully, you can hear quite a lot."  She focused on Kennedy.  "I think someone needs a lesson in who's in charge around here."  She gestured to Vivienne.  "Gag her," she ordered.

"Please, Mistress," Vivienne whined.  "She'll be good."

"Gag!" Lena barked.

Vivienne sighed and hurried to find the discarded ball-gag.

Kennedy glowered at the still smiling Lena.  "Now look, you over-muscled bitch, I don't care if you're a kung-fu goddess.  When I get free I'm going to—Mrrrpfh!"  Vivienne had taken advantage of Kennedy's tirade to step behind her and pop the ball-gag into her mouth.  Kennedy stamped her feet in frustration, but didn't really try and prevent her friend (lover) from securing the strap's buckle under her tousled hair.  "M'mrf!"

"Please don't be mean, Mistress," Vivienne whined.  "She'll learn."

"Oh, she certainly will," Lena chuckled as she stepped forward.

Kennedy noted with alarm that Lena had pulled a black cloth bag from her hip pocket, and—"Nrrr!"—was slipping it over her head!  The cloth was light tight, and closed with a drawstring around her neck.  In an instant, Kennedy was blindfolded and hooded!  "Nrrr!"  She was also being lifted onto Lena's shoulder in another fireman's carry, Kennedy's first of the day.

"Make your bed," Lena ordered.  Obviously she was addressing Vivienne.  "Afterwards, meet me in the basement."

"Please, Mistress," Vivienne sobbed.

"Do it!" Lena barked, then carried Kennedy from the room.

Her feet no longer bound, Kennedy was free to flutter-kick, and she did so.  She also continued squirming and mewling.  "Mrrrpfh!"

Kennedy tried her best to keep track of where she was being carried, and for once thought she was largely successful.  Despite the cloth hood covering her head she was able to follow their path through The Castle, hallway by hallway and staircase by staircase... until they reached the basement.  After that, there were twists and turns, pauses for Lena to unlock and open doors, but at least one additional set of stairs.  Unless Kennedy had lost track of their descents, and she didn't think she had, they were now in a sub-basement under the Castle basement, a level the existence of which she hadn't even suspected!

Lena unlocked and opened one more door, and Kennedy was lowered from Lena's shoulders and her feet planted on a stone floor.  Apparently, they'd reached their destination.  She tugged and twisted her upper body, more futile testing of her wrist and elbow bonds, and complained through her ball-gag and hood.  "Mrrrrf!"  Meanwhile, Lena buckled some sort of wide, padded, leather cuffs around her ankles.  She would have given her handler a swift kick, but "Mistress" was kneeling with one arm wrapped around both of her legs and it was impossible.  There was a metallic clatter followed by a click, then Lena lifted Kennedy's left foot, pulled it to the side and planted it back down on the floor, and there was a second clatter and click.

Kennedy now found herself standing with her legs apart, her feet flat on the stone floor, and somehow fixed in place.  She felt Lena fiddling with her wrist bonds, then the cords loosened, slithered apart, and finally melted away.  Lena stepped away, there was a brief pause, then more metallic rattling and clinking sounded, and this time it was continuous.  Kennedy's elbows were still bound, so she could do nothing about the hood or gag, nor could she release her ankles.  Any serious attempt at the latter would probably end with an awkward and painful fall, skinned knees, and a possibly a mild concussion.

The rattling finally stopped, Kennedy heard approaching footsteps, then a wide, padded leather cuff was wrapped around her right wrist and buckled tight.  Next, Lena grabbed her left wrist and pulled it up and away from her side, far enough that it forced her to bend at the waist.  "M'mmpfh!"  Then, a second cuff was wrapped and buckled,

Finally, Lena untied Kennedy's elbow bonds and she could stand upright.  Her legs apart and her wrists buckled in padded cuffs, Kennedy's arms were now more or less at her sides.  She could tell loose vertical chains were attached to the wrist-cuffs.  They swayed and bumped against her shoulders and sides.  Just as she was reaching for the hood's drawstring, taking the heavy weight of the chains with her, the clattering noise returned.  Also—"Mrrrf?"—the chains and wrist cuffs began rising into the air.

"Nrrrrrf!"

Kennedy pulled and tugged, but could do nothing to impede the steady upwards progress.  The chains continued stretching her struggling, naked body until she was in a standing spread-eagle, her arms and legs splayed widely apart.  Her weight was on her toes with her heels off the floor!

"M'mmmpfh!"

Lena's footsteps returned, presumably bringing the rest of the blond amazon with them.  Then, Kennedy felt fingers fiddling with the hood's drawstring and the cloth was pulled from her head.

Kennedy shook the ginger curls from her face and blinked in the sudden light.  Her eyes adjusted just in time to watch Lena step across a threshold and close a heavy wooden door banded with iron.

"M'mpfh!"

Lena failed to reappear, release Kennedy's bonds, throw herself at her feet, and beg for her forgiveness.  Damn!  The spreadeagled prisoner glared at the closed door.  Despite her gag, Kennedy managed to blow an errant curl from her angry face.  Then, she began surveying her surroundings.

Immediately in front was the door, of course, solidly set in a stone wall, and unless Kennedy was mistaken, the blocks were the genuine article, rough-hewed stone, not concrete blocks cast and finished to resemble rough-hewed stone.  To her right was a small pedestal table and a pair of chairs.  To her left was a large wooden rack, and hanging from the rack were—

Kennedy's eyes popped wide... very wide.  Also, her heart began hammering in her chest, her nostrils flared above her gag, and her breasts began heaving.

Hanging from the rack were whips, crops, canes, paddles, floggers, more whips, more crops, more canes, more paddles, and more floggers!

"Urrrk?"

Kennedy listened to her heart pound... and tried her best to not think about how it would feel to have the whips, crops, canes, paddles, and floggers whip, crop, cane, paddle, and flog her helpless, naked, spreadeagled body.  She failed, miserably.  Sometimes a fertile imagination can be a curse.

As fascinating as the dangling array of flesh-punishing instruments might be, Kennedy felt compelled to complete her visual inspection.  She turned her gagged head and beheld a large, hand-cranked, windlass-type mechanism mounted on the back wall.  A vertical chain led from the windlass' wooden drum, up to a pulley set in the ceiling, across the ceiling to a  second pulley directly over her head, then down to a separate chain secured to her wrist-cuffs.  The arrangement of the second chain was like a giant "W," with the ends attached to the left and right walls, up near the ceiling, the lower points running through rings on her cuffs, and the central point attached to the windlass chain.  Shorten the windlass chain and the "W" was pulled upwards.

Kennedy's worried blue eyes returned to the rack.  Track lighting was mounted on the tall ceiling, and several tiny spotlights were focused on the whips, crops, etc.  They gleamed in the yellow-white light.  They were not covered with dust.  Somebody came down here and cared for the things, polishing them with oil.  She had no idea how old any of the individual items might be, but the details visible from her position suggested top-of-the-line craftsmanship.  An appraiser had to be knowledgeable about virtually everything made by human hands, and while Kennedy was no expert in whipping accoutrements, even at this distance the collection looked expensive.

More spotlights were focused on the table and chairs to Kennedy's right.  She tugged on her wrist cuffs, more from nervousness than a real attempt to escape.  Obviously, the chairs were for visitors... observers... and the table was for a tea or coffee service, or perhaps a tray with a bottle of wine and a pair of crystal glasses.  I wonder what vintage goes with a nice flogging, Kennedy wondered.  Her heart was still hammering and her breasts heaving, just a little.  Also, her nipples were fully erect, which she thought strange.

The majority of the spotlights shone on Kennedy, herself, some from the front and some from the back.  Her helpless, naked, spreadeagled, freckled body was well-lit.  Kennedy imagined she could feel heat radiating from the overhead array, but knew it was probably her imagination.  In any case, the chamber was warm, perhaps too warm.  Her body was glowing, and she suspected soon she would be shining with sweat.

And speaking of fluids.  The hollow sphere of the ball-gag filled her mouth, but still allowed drool to escape.  Saliva dripped from her chin, spotted her upper chest, and ran between her bobbing breasts.

Her gaze returned to the neatly racked instruments of pain, again.  Please... no...

Kennedy was scared, very scared, but all she could do was wait.