by Van © 2020

Chapter 2

Dramatis Personæ


The trip to Abby Clarke's potentially palatial mountainside mansion took one very long day.  Mikki left her adopted parents' home very early in the morning, made the trip all the way down south to Elke's family home in a neighboring state, then all the way back up and east to the mansion in question.  The map apps in their phones made for easy navigation and they took turns driving, but it was still a grueling trip.

They arrived near sunset, sore, stiff, tired of watching bucolic scenery whiz by, tired in general, and more than ready for a meet and greet with Abby, a yummy supper, and a couple of comfy beds.

Abby was very nice, as expected, as were Donna (Abby's spouse), and Lilly, (Donna's little sister, who was maybe ten years older that Mikki and Elke, about 5' 7", and not actually little). 
Abby's place
As for Abby's abode, before dinner Mikki and Elke only had time for a brief, limited tour, but independently the BFFs arrived at the conclusion that "palatial" was not an appropriate description for the mountainside mansion.  It was huge and luxurious, but too Modern and homey to warrant being called palatial.  Full of expensive furnishings and art and worthy of an Architectural Digest cover story?  Yes.  Palatial?  No.

As it turned out, the "luxuriously homey" estate (as Mikki put it) was built into and across a north-south spur of the mountain, with views to the east and west, and it was a compound, a cluster of outbuildings around the main mansion.  They were all Modern and matched the house in materials and style so in all probability, the BFFs concluded, everything had been built at the same time.

Supper was a delicious taco salad accompanied by cold glasses of Mexican beer (Carta Blanca).  Like the food and drink, conversation was light and pleasant; however, it wasn't long before "The Girls" (as Abby insisted on calling her young guests) started visibly flagging.  Smiling and yawning, Mikki and Elke were ushered to separate guest bedrooms and bid good night.

Elke decided to wait 'til morning to take a shower.  She unzipped her soft-sided suitcase, groped around inside, and found one of the two sets of shortie pajamas she'd packed for the trip.  She then removed and neatly folded her jeans, blouse, bra, and panties and donned the pajamas.  After a brief trip to the guest bathroom down the hall to conduct her evening toilette, she removed her glasses and set them on the bedside table, climbed between the sheets of the queen-size bed, and turned out the lights.

Elke usually had a hard time falling asleep in a strange place, but tonight she didn't think it was going to be an issue.

Suddenly, there was a frenzied flurry of quiet knocks at her bedroom door, it flew open, and Mikki appeared.  She was dressed in panties and a tank-top, her usual pajamas.  "Wait 'til you see what I found!" she gushed, then hurried to the bed and threw back the top-sheet and light blanket covering her BFF.  "C'mon!" she suggested (ordered).

Elke rolled her eyes.  It would seem falling asleep was going to be an issue.  "What?" she demanded grumpily.

"Lemme show you!" Mikki gushed, then grabbed Elke's hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Hey!" Elke objected, stifling a yawn.

"C'mon!" Mikki reiterated.  She paused for Elke to don her glasses, then quietly led (dragged) her BFF from her assigned guest bedroom, down the hall, and into her assigned guest bedroom.

Elke blinked and looked around.  The decor and furnishings were more-or-less identical to the room they'd just left, right down to a very comfortable and inviting queen-size bed.  "Amazing," she muttered.  "Thank you so very much for dragging me here.  I can see why it couldn't wait 'til morning."

"The trunk, dingbat!" Mikki responded.  "Look at the trunk!"the

The trunk in question was at the foot of the bed in the traditional blanket chest position, but it was... unusual... in no way Modern, like everything else in the room.  It was heavily carved, dark stained wood, and style-wise, Elke wasn't sure how to categorize it.  Gothic?  Folk Art?  Weird?  She decided to go with weird.  Anyway, however an auctioneer or museum curator might choose to list the thing in their catalog, the chest was unique, that was for sure, unique and out of place.

The lid had three carved "straps" with flush-mounted locks that would require a barrel-type key.  Mikki lifted the wooden hasps, one-by-one, and Elke saw metal hasps routed into the wooden undersides, as well as the interior halves of the lock mechanisms.  And sunk into the top forward edge of the trunk, at each strap location, was a housing waiting to accept and engage the locks.  All of the metal had a dull bronze finish and more-or-less matched the darkly stained hue of the trunk.

"Isn't this thing great!" Mikki enthused as she lifted the lid.

"Truly amazing," Elke muttered, perfectly deadpan.

Mikki grinned.  "Look inside," she suggested (ordered).

Elke suppressed another yawn, padded closer, and peered into the trunk.  It was lined with more of the bronze, which she assumed was actually sheets of steel with a bronze finish, rather than actual bronze, but what did she know?  Its metal lined, she thought.  So what?  It was then that she noted the pile of metal something-or-others resting on the floor of the trunk... and her eyes widened.  "Oh!"

"Exactly," Mikki nodded.

The contents of the trunk were...
Some of the paired cuffs were joined directly together and some were separated by varying lengths of steel chain.

"Wow," Elke stated in a near whisper.

"I just gotta try it!" Mikki gushed as she leaned into the trunk, extracted the steel restraints, and piled them on the bed.

"It?" Elke demanded.

"The trunk, the cuffs, all of it," Mikki confirmed.

"Are you nuts?" Elke inquired.

"I think some of these are double-locking," Mikki said as she sorted through the key-ring until she found the tiny brass key that unlocked the padlock securing buckle of the rubber ball and strap.

"I'm not locking you in a pair of handcuffs," Elke huffed, shaking her head.

"Handcuffs, plural," Mikki chuckled as she started arranging the cuffs, shackles, etc. on the bed, sorting them by the length of their connecting chain.  "That includes the ball-gag, of course."

"The what?" Elke asked.

"The ball-gag," Mikki said pointing at the red rubber ball, strap, and padlock.

Elke shrugged, then frowned as her BFF smiled.  "What do I know about the proper designations of kinky hardware?"

"Obviously not enough," Mikki purred.  "Now pay attention."  She pointed at the array.  The first three will go on my ankles, the next three on my wrists—behind the back, of course—and the last two just above my elbows."

"Of course," Elke muttered, then heaved a long-suffering sigh and tried again.  "This is nuts!"

"Pleeeeease?" Mikki begged.  She pointed at the open trunk.  "There are breathing holes in the bottom and the sides, under the carved handles where you don't notice them from the outside unless you look.  I'll have plenty of air.  And it's been used for happy-playtime-fun before."  She pointed at the trunk's interior.  "Look at all the scratches and dings."

"I'll take your word for it," Elke said.

"And don't forget to double-lock all the locks that have double-locks," Mikki said, "so they don't over-tighten once I start struggling."

Elke favored her BFF with an even stare.

"You turn the key twice or use it to set the little switch next to the keyhole," Mikki explained.  "I'll explain as we go."

Elke heaved another sigh.  "If I wasn't exhausted," she muttered, "and maybe a little buzzed from a great big glass of cerveza.  I'd tell you where you can shove all this stuff."

Mikki took that as a yes.  "Goodie!" she giggled, then picked up a pair of hinged handcuffs and turned her back on her BFF.  "Nice and tight," she suggested (ordered), "but not too tight, and this is one of the double-locking ones.  See the little tiny rods in the tiny holes?  You push them in with the pointy end of the key."

Elke rolled her eyes and set to work.  In a surprisingly short time, Mikki's wrists were solidly locked together with a pair of hinged cuffs, followed by a second hinged pair with slightly greater separation, followed by a third pair separated by a swiveling, double-ended, ball-and-socket joint.

"Excellent!" Mikki gushed, testing the cuffs.  "Now, lock one end of each of those two cuffs—"  She did a half-turn and pointed with her right index finger at two pairs of cuffs separated by about six inches of chain.  "—on my left upper arm, just above the elbow, then wrap the connecting chains around each other a few times and lock the other ends on my right upper arm.  That'll shorten the chains, stiffen them up, and pull my elbows together."  She noted Elke's hesitation.  "Don't worry.  I can handle it.  They won't be anywhere near touching and we both do yoga."

"I know we both do yoga," Elke huffed.  "I'm half of the 'we,' dummy."  She carried out her orders.  One of the cuffs was of the ratcheting, double-locking variety, and the other had what were called "screw-locks," according to Mikki the resident handcuff expert.  The end result was Mikki's elbows cuffed and about three inches apart.  It pulled her shoulders back (slightly) and caused her breasts to point.  And oh-by-the-way, Mikki had a prominent pair of pokies that dimpled the cotton fabric of her tank-top (Elke noted objectively).

"Excellent!" Mikki reiterated, then padded to the open trunk, lifted her right leg, carefully stepped inside, lifted her left leg into the trunk, and planted her feet side-by-side.  She then sat down, lifted both legs, and pointed her feet and toes straight into the air.  "Okay, last three cuffs," she ordered (demanded), wiggling her toes and smiling up from the dark, metal-lined depths at her reluctant helper/captor.

Elke locked the remaining cuffs around Mikki's ankles.  One was the ratcheting, double-locking kind, two had screw-type locks, and all three were separated by about six inches of steel links.

Mikki lowered her cuffed/fettered feet, scrambled around inside the metal-lined trunk until she could kneel, then grinned at her BFF.  "Ball-gag!" she demanded.

Elke glowered at her "victim," shook her head, then padded to the bed and picked up the ball-gag and its padlock.  "Both of us are idiots," she muttered as she returned to the open trunk.

"And don't forget to lock the trunk," Mikki said as she smiled at her glowering BFF.  "All three locks, and—Mrrff!"

Whatever further instructions Mikki was about to issue were stifled by the two-inch rubber ball Elke somewhat petulantly stuffed in her mouth.  The frowning blonde then threaded the strap through the buckle, pulled out all the slack, then secured the buckle at the nape of Mikki's neck and padlocked its tongue.  Click!  She was careful not to trap any of her prisoner's tousled ginger curls under the strap.  If it's a gag she wants, Elke silently fumed, it's a gag she gets!

Inside the trunk, Mikki settled onto her right side in a fetal tuck with her knees more-or-less pressed against her boobs, then stared up at her BFF/captor, batting her big brown eyes with tragic solemnity.

"One hour," Elke growled, "and not a single, solitary second longer."  Then, with that ultimatum and before Mikki could figure out a way to object, she closed the lid.

Mikki managed an abbreviated gagged squeak—"Mrk!"—before total darkness descended.  She heard the locks engage—K'click... K'click... K'clickall three of them... followed by total silence.  "Mrrrf!"  Her gagged voice was close and loud in her own ears, but well-muffled by the rubber sphere more-or-less filling her mouth.  The strap was tight!  Elke had gagged her with a vengeance.  Not really, but the strap was tight.

Meanwhile, outside the Stygian darkness of Mikki's cramped prison, Elke stifled a yawn as she padded to Mikki's bed, pulled back the covers, and slid between the sheets.  She removed her glasses and carefully placed them on the bedside table, next to the key-ring, then turned out the lights with the convenient switch set in the wall just above the table.  Now, the entire bedroom was dark, but not Stygian.  A little starlight was shining through the six-inch gap in the otherwise closed drapes not quite covering the bedroom's east-facing window-wall.

Drat, Elke thought.  I need to go get my phone so I can set a timer... but first... I need to think.  She stretched and yawned, again.  How can she be this stupid?  How can we be this stupid? she excoriated herself.  Playing Mikki's stupid game in a stranger's house?  Stupid!  She heaved a deep sigh.  I need to get my phone, she reminded herself.  Better yet, I should just grab the damn keys and call off this whole damn farce!  She's had her stupid fun.  Enough is enough!  We shouldn't have done it in the first place!

And then, having arrived at a logical and undeniably sensible resolution to the current unacceptable and ill-advised situation... Elke fell asleep.

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Legacy   Chapter 2

The hour—the arbitrary time limit Mikki's villainous captor had imposed on her Stygian, steel-imposed captivity—passed slowly.

Very slowly.

Mikki squirmed and tested her bonds, rolling around in the close confines of the trunk.  She was bound and gagged!  Big time!  It was her favorite game on steroids!  With a cherry on top!  Her futile struggles caused the cuffs to tap and scrape against the trunk's metal-lined interior, no doubt adding additional dings and scratches, but while the sounds were clearly audible from her perspective inside the close confines of her Cruel Confinement, Mikki was sure that from the outside, the noise would escape the notice of all but the most sharp-eared of would be rescuers.

Eventually... Mikki became convinced that more than an hour had passed.  Elke was really being villainous, and it wasn't like her.  Mikki had always had to talk (meaning cajole) her BFF into being villainous and "cruel."

And then—Finally!—Mikki heard the sound of the trunk's three locks being unlocked.  K-click!  K-click!  K-click!  She readied herself for the lid to open so she could give her BFF a serious (and teasing) dressing down for doing what Mikki had begged her to do.  She knew the ball-gag plugging her mouth would render the tirade unintelligible, but she was willing to give it a go.

The trunk lid opened on silent hinges, cool air flooded the trunk and caressed her scantily clad, well-restrained body... and the darkness was no longer Stygian, merely total.  Okay, not quite total.  Mikki's eyes were totally dark-adapted and she found she could actually see, thanks to the faint glow from the partially open drapes.  Leaning into the trunk and smiling down at her was—"Mrrrk?"—Lilly Orlando! and not her BFF!  The grinning Brunette was dressed in a white tank-top (like Mikki).  As to whether she was wearing panties or anything else from the waist down was an open question.

Still smiling, Lilly leaned close and whispered in Mikki's left ear.  "Hush.  You'll wake your cute little blond friend."  She reached into the trunk, wrapped her arms around Mikki's body, and "helped" her sit up.  She then shifted her grip and lifted Mikki from the trunk and settled her onto her shoulder in a stomach-down, face-down, feet-first, fireman's carry.

As Lilly carried her towards the open bedroom door, Mikki shook the tousled ginger curls from her face and gazed at the bed.  Elke was, indeed, asleep, lying on her right side under the rumpled covers.  Mikki considered screaming through the rubber ball plugging her mouth; however:
1.  That would be rude.

2.  If she was being rescued by Lilly, making mewling noises would alert her captor, the slumbering blond villainess on the bed, thus potentially ruining the rescue.

3.  If she was being abducted by Lilly, if she woke Elke up and her BFF tried to intervene, she might get abducted as well!  And that would be... bad?
wheelchair Before Mikki could resolve the second and third issues, Lilly had padded across the threshold and they were out in the hallway.  Lilly, her rescuer/abductor, eased Mikki off her shoulder and onto the cool leather seat of a very nice wheelchair, of the medical variety.  Lilly then padded back into the bedroom, silently closed the lid of the chest/damsel-prison, and then, still smiling, padded back to Mikki.  By the way, Mikki noted that in addition to the white tank-top, Lilly was wearing a faded pair of skintight denim jeans.  Also, her feet were bare... hence all the "padding."  The panties question remained unresolved.

Mikki watched (with wide eyes) as Lilly silently eased the bedroom door closed... then stepped behind the wheelchair, gripped the handles, and pushed off.

"Mrrf?" Mikki inquired as she was rolled down the dark hallway.  This was her first time riding in a wheelchair... also her first time wearing multiple pairs of handcuffs with a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth and riding in a wheelchair.

"It's still a few hours 'til sunrise, so we should get a little more sleep," Lilly whispered, answering Mikki's terse, gagged inquiry as to where the hell they were going and what the hell was happening.  Either that or she was just being informative.  "You can share my bed," she added.

"Mrrf?" Mikki reiterated, but this time she was ignored.  Her gagged question, of course, was "Your bed?"  Mikki realized the brunette could afford to ignore her.  She wasn't the one that was bound, gagged, and helpless.  Nonetheless, some sort of reply would have been polite.  Nobody likes an uncommunicative abductor.

Lilly continued wheeling Mikki down the hallway... made a left turn... continued wheeling... then stopped, opened a door, and wheeled Mikki into yet another bedroom.

Mikki looked around.  A bedside reading lamp was shining so there was plenty of light.  The bedroom (obviously Lilly's bedroom) was about the same size as Mikki's guest bedroom (the one with the wickedly weird trunk/damsel prison) but was more lived in and less... generic.  Also, off to one side was a generous alcove with a comfortable-looking office chair, large table/desk, an impressive computer-tower, and one of those extra-long double or triple screens.  Either Lilly was a serious gamer or she did some kind of design work.  Anyway, the place was homey and nice... for the secret lair of an evil kidnapper.

Lilly lifted her guest (meaning her kidnap victim) from the wheelchair and gently deposited her on the queen-size bed.  The covers were already pulled back.

Mikki rolled onto her side and squirmed to get comfortable, then watched as Lilly unzipped and pulled down her jeans, draped them over a chair, stretched her tank-top and panties clad incredibly fit and curvaceous body, then smiled down at her helpless guest.  Mikki had to admit, Lilly was a looker.  Also, she was wearing panties.  They were of the decidedly skimpy, bikini-thong variety and were just barely there, but they were there.  The panties question was resolved.

"Sweet dreams, Mikki," Lilly wished her guest as she climbed into bed, embraced the bound and gagged ginger-haired guest in question, planted a warm and rather enthusiastic kiss on Mikki's ball-gagged mouth, then rolled over and turned her back.

Mikki was outraged!  How dare Lilly treat her with such... familiarity!  Granted, most of the kiss had landed on the rubber ball of her gag and not her full, luscious lips, but still!  A wave of... indignation quivered between her legs.  She was a helpless prisoner at the mercy of a beautiful, mischievous, slightly older woman!  What an outrage!

Lilly turned off the light, squirmed into the soft mattress, and sighed.  Her butt was more-or-less pressed against Mikki's thighs.

Well, Mikki mused, that happened... and is still happening.  I've been kidnapped... I think.  And I guess the joke's on Elke.  Right?  She turned her head and stared up at the dark ceiling.  I should be terrified, she realized.  Why aren't I terrified?  And then, with that logical and eminently sensible question unresolved, Mikki drifted off to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z z z ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Legacy   Chapter 2

Elke opened her eyes.

Early morning light was streaming through the narrow gap in the drapes.  Surprisingly, she felt not even a smidgen of disorientation.  There was no instant of wondering where she was.  Elke knew where she was: Abby Clarke's magnificent Modern mansion, snug and warm in the bed of the guest bedroom she'd been assigned, and...  Wait.  Wait!  WAIT!!  She was in Mikki's guest bedroom!  Her eyes popped wide as her memory came flooding back.  MIKKI!!

Her stomach in a knot, Elke threw back the covers and scrambled from the bed.  Pausing only to don her glasses, she scampered to the nefarious weird trunk—realized she'd forgotten to grab the key-ring from the bedside table along with her glasses—realized the key-ring wasn't on the bedside table—then realized the trunk wasn't locked!  The carved wood and bronze-finished metal hasps were open!  She lifted the lid, and...

No Mikki!  No handcuffs, fetters, shackles, ball-gag, etc.!  No nothing!

"She escaped?" Elke muttered under her breath, incredulously.  "How?"

Just then, the bedroom door opened and Donna Orlando, Abby's spouse and Lilly's big sister, padded into the bedroom, a broad Good Morning smile lighting her gorgeous face.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Donna beamed.  "I hope you slept well."

Unable to make her mouth work, Elke stared, blinked, and finally managed a jerking nod.

Oh-by-the-way, Donna was wearing (just barely) a string bikini in a shade Elke believed was often called "Prussian-blue."  There wasn't much to it, which meant there was a whole lot of Donna on open display... and Donna was built like the proverbial brick outhouse and in stunningly good physical shape... in a curvaceous, feminine sort of way.  Despite the circumstances, Elke was impressed.

"We've decided to have breakfast out on the deck," Donna said, "overlooking the pool.  Here." She tossed Elke a wad of white cloth.

Elke caught the wad in question, let it fall apart in her hands, and realized she was holding a snow-white version of the string bikini Donna was almost wearing.

"Uniform of the day," Donna explained as she nodded at the white bikini (what there was of it).  "We always wear swimsuits when we decide to breakfast on the deck; except in winter, of course."

Elke nodded in agreement.  That makes perfect sense, she reasoned.  Nobody wears a string bikini in winter.  "Uh..."  She blinked at Donna.  "You want me to wear this?"

"That's entirely up to you, sweetie," Donna chuckled, "but the rest of us will be properly dressed for poolside dining."

Elke gazed at the miniscule bikini, again, then glanced at the open and empty trunk.  "Uh, what about Mikki?"

"Oh, Mikki's already up," Donna answered.  "I believe Abby found her something to wear in cherry-red."

Speaking of red, Elke's cheeks were blushing bright crimson and her heart was hammering.  She swallowed several times and struggled to control a sudden sense of panic.  "Uh... okay," she finally managed to answer.

"Wonderful," Donna said, then turned and padded to the open door.  "See you in half an hour," she said from the hallway, one hand on the doorknob.  "More than enough time for a quick shower.  Ciao!" she added and was gone, closing the door behind her.

Elke stared at the back of the door.  "Uh... ciao," she answered belatedly.  Her breathing was back under control, but she was still blushing.  "Wow," she whispered to the empty room.

And speaking of empty, Elke turned back to the trunk.  Obviously, Mikki hadn't escaped.  She'd been rescued.  Rats, Elke thought, chewing on her lower lip as she gazed into the metal-lined, Mikki-less void.  I wanted to be the one to do that.  I should have been the one to do that.  She's gonna hate me.  I fell asleep and she's gonna hate me.  There's no excuse.

She heaved a sigh, closed the trunk lid, then padded out the bedroom door, bikini in hand.  The guest bathroom she'd be sharing with her BFF (when Mikki wasn't bound, gagged, and locked in metal-lined trunks) was more-or-less equidistant between her room and Mikki's.  She decided to take the quick shower, as Donna had suggested (she needed it), then make her final decision regarding breakfast dining apparel.

Obviously, some sort of game was afoot, and she had absolutely no clue what its rules might be.  Was the bikini an attempt to embarrass her and put her at some sort of disadvantage with the opening move?  Was Mikki's rescue some sort of... challenge?  And how did they know Mikki needed rescuing in the first place?  Had the trunk and its contents—meaning all the cuffs and the ball-gag, before Mikki was added to the contents—been some sort of... bait?  Bait for Mikki?  (Yes, obviously)  But bait for me, as well?

Elke's lips might be set in a flustered pout, but her blue-eyes were flashing.  I'll show them.  Two can play at this game... whatever it is.  Embarrassed?  Hah!  I'll wear their stupid bikini and not be apologetic for leaving Micki in the trunk all night... or however long she was in the damn thing before she was rescued.

She entered the bathroom and stripped off her shortie pajamas.  I'll apologize to Mikki later, of course.  She'll play the martyr and give me all sorts of grief, but she'll forgive me.  She always does.  Elke took her morning tinkle, opened her toiletries kit and brushed her teeth, then turned on the shower, waited for the water to warm, stepped into the stall and under the stream, then closed the glass door behind her.

As for Abby, Donna, and Lilly, Elke thought as she luxuriated under the hot, wet torrent, we'll just see who winds up winning their silly game... whatever it is.

Legacy   Chapter 2


Chapter 1
Chapter 3