by Van © 2015
		Chapter 3

Dinner was delicious... and socially awkward.

Karli did an excellent job of feeding Agatha without dribbling soup, salad dressing, or anything else on either her wrap, the tablecloth, or down her terrycloth-wrapped cleavage.  Catherine proved equally adept at feeding Finley.  After the soup and a small mixed salad, the main course was some sort of beef in some sort of sauce or gravy.  If the name of the recipe was ever mentioned, Agatha missed it.  Anyway, it was delicious, and so was the cheesecake desert.  Wine accompanied the meal, but not a different variety with each course.  Agatha guessed that went with the meal being "casual."  If Karli was the cook, as Agatha remembered being mentioned at some point, the smiling blonde had done a very good job.

As for conversation... few words were exchanged, and by everyone's expressions (except Agatha) there was an undercurrent of amusement, and all of it at Agatha's expense.  There was no overt, explicit teasing, but it was quite clear that Catherine, Karli, and even Finley were enjoying Agatha's discomfiture.  And Agatha didn't learn anything new.  There was no confirmation that this—whatever "this" was—happened every Thursday, and the book Finley had brought to her hostess/captor was never discussed.  Agatha never even learned if the supposed book had been unwrapped.

There was one thing: Agatha's suspicion that Finley was more co-conspirator than fellow captive was strengthened.  There was nothing explicit, and Finley continued to send visual daggers of various varieties in Agatha's direction, but she also exchanged a few knowing smiles with Catherine.  Agatha noticed their subtle communication several times, but only from the corner of one eye as she was being fed by Karli.

Anyway, the most unusual dinner party of Agatha's life?  No, ya think?!

Finally, the last bite of cheesecake was consumed and the last wineglass emptied.  Agatha and Finley were allowed a final sip, swish, and swallow of water, then "enjoyed" the final course: wide strips of Elastoplast tape plastered over their lips and smoothed by the strong fingers of their respective feeders.  Then, Agatha and Finley watched as Catherine and Karli cleared the table.  This involved the stacking of plates, platters, and silver and multiple trips from the dining room and through the swinging door to the kitchen.  Soon, the table was clear and Catherine had removed the table cloth, making sure she captured all the crumbs as she folded the white linen cloth and carried it away.  Karli placed a doily and a vase with cut flowers in the center of the table, then left for the kitchen.

Agatha and Finley were left behind, still tied to their chairs with their arms folded behind their backs and their fingers, hands, and forearms mummified under tight, overlapping layers of white Vet-wrap.  Did Finley resume staring at her wayward employee more or less nonstop?  Yes, and all Agatha could do in response was blush.  She noticed that Finley had very nice skin.  She'd always thought so, but this was the first time she'd seen her boss in anything but business attire, and the dusting of freckles on her bare shoulders, arms, and cleavage was... nice.  Agatha avoided meeting Finley's gagged, disapproving face, but she did appreciate what she could see of the redhead's peach-pink skin.  Nice.

The clatter of dishes being loaded into a dishwasher came from the kitchen.

After about a minute Catherine reappeared, still wearing her black silk robe.  She pulled Finley and her chair back from the table and proceeded to untie her rope bonds.  Agatha's earlier surmise had been correct.  The captives' chair bondage was identical—or had been.  Finley was now free from her chair.  Arm-bound and tape-gagged, yes, but free from her chair.  Agatha noted that Finley's legs and feet were also nice, like her shoulders and upper arms.

Catherine smiled, leaned close to Agatha, and planted a kiss on her tape-gagged lips.  "Goodnight, Munchkin," she purred, then led Finley from the dining room.  Finley favored her employee with one last disdainful stare... and Agatha was alone—bound to her chair, clothed only in the beach-wrap, her mouth taped shut, and alone.  It was her third bound and gagged abandonment/languishing interlude of the day.  First there had been the spare bedroom, then the attic, and now... the dining room.  The bathroom didn't count.  She'd been locked in and naked, but not bound and gagged.  Agatha heaved a deep, very sad sigh, and settled in to wait.  Woe is me, she thought, then blinked her eyes and pouted her tape-gagged lips in irritation.  'Woe is me,' she fumed.  Talk about your tired clichés.

Thankfully, the Tragic Interlude was short lived.  The clattering from the kitchen stopped, the quiet hum of a modern dishwasher doing its thing started, and Karli reappeared.

"All finished," the tall blonde said with a grin, pulled Agatha and her chair away from the table, and began untying her rope bonds.  Agatha watched as Karli neatly coiled the ropes that had bound both captives, placed them atop a sideboard, then took a gentle grip on Agatha's left upper-arm—her bare left upper-arm—lifted her to her feet, and led her from the dining room.

Their first stop was the second story bathroom.  Karli lifted the lid of the commode, hiked up the lower hem of Agatha's beach wrap, and plunked the mortified prisoner down on the seat.

Agatha blushed and blinked through her glasses at her smiling handler.  I ought to be used to this by now, she thought, but I'm not.  She did manage to empty her bladder, then reached a new level of embarrassment as Karli lifted her to her feet and used a warm, wet washcloth to clean her crotch.  Well... that happened, Agatha thought, blinking furiously.

And then, it was out of the bathroom, down the hall, and into Karli's bedroom.  A firm but gentle hand was pressed against Agatha's back, and she flopped down onto the bed.  "Mrrrf!"  It was half whine and half outraged complaint.  Agatha had been expecting to be locked in the spare bedroom, maybe with her hands tied or taped, just only by herself.  But here she was in Karli's room!  With Karli!

"Stay," Karli ordered, then stepped into her closet.  Apparently, it was of the walk-in variety.  Agatha couldn't confirm that from the bed, but it was pretty obvious.  Anyway Karli reemerged in about a minute.  Her sneakers, jeans, and blouse were gone, and in their place she was wearing a light cotton robe.  Agatha couldn't tell if she was wearing anything underneath.  The robe was shades of blue and gray in a geometric pattern suggesting a Mexican or Native American blanket.  Karli's feet were bare.

"My turn in the bathroom, Munchkin," Karli announced.  "I expect to find you on the bed when I return, understand?"  Agatha nodded, gravely.  "I could tie your ankles," Karli continued, "but I'm going to trust you.  Do you give me your parole?"

Agatha blinked several times, then nodded.  Why not? she thought.  Might as well be a good little damsel-in-distress.

Karli smiled and left, locking the bedroom door behind her.

Agatha's heart was pounding, again.  She was lying on her right side, her beach-wrap had hiked up, and most of her left hip was exposed.  Squirming, writhing, and rolling on the bed to restore what little coverage the wrap allowed might be possible, but what was the point?  Agatha looked around at the bedroom, again.  Nothing had changed since this afternoon.  The eleven-inch Princess Leia was still languishing in her collar and chain on the bookshelf, the Rocketeer was still rescuing Betty, and Karli's books were still neatly stacked.  Agatha supposed she could roll off the bed, pad to the bookshelf, and read the titles on the dustcover spines, but that would be a violation of her parole.

So... naked but for the beach-wrap, her arms folded behind her back and encased in Vet-wrap, and her mouth sealed by a strip of Elastoplast tape, Agatha waited, her heart beating rapidly as she panted through flaring nostrils and she tried her best not to shiver with... dread?  Yes, she was feeling dread.  Her plight certainly couldn't be described as excitement or anticipation... or arousal.

Finally... inevitably... the key rattled in the lock, the bedroom door opened, and Karli returned.  Now, Agatha's heart was really hammering and she was losing the battle to not shiver.

Karli turned off the overhead light, then strolled across the suddenly dark bedroom and clicked on the reading lamp on the bedside table.  It had a Wonder Woman shade and an action-figure-size statue of the Amazon Princess mounted to its base.  The tiny Diana was striking a heroic and sexy pose, of course.  The lamp's bulb was surprisingly dim, more a nightlight than something one could use to read.

Meanwhile, Karli had released the robe's sash, opened the robe, and let it slither from her body and pool on the floor.  She stooped and retrieved the garment, then tossed it on a nearby chair.  This left the smiling blonde completely in the nude, of course.

Needless to say, Karli had Agatha's full attention.  Oh.  My.  God.  It was hardly a surprise that Karli had a hot, athletic bod, but... Holy guacamole!  Gorgeous was a totally inadequate descriptor, in Agatha's humble opinion.  Agatha stared at her captor/hostess /handler with open adoration.  She couldn't help herself.  She resolved to locate a thesaurus and find an adequate adjective to describe Karli's smooth, firm, athletic pulchritude at her first opportunity.

Smiling down at Agatha, Karli picked up a plastic bottle, popped the cap, and squeezed a dollop of white lotion on her left palm.  She returned the bottle to the nightstand, rubbed her hands together, and began rubbing the lotion on her arms.  "I always moisturize before bed," she purred as she replenished the lotion and began massaging her shoulders... neck... and breasts.

Wow! Agatha thought as Karli worked her way down her entire body.  The lotion had a very pleasant, woodsy scent, possibly cedar.  Eventually, Karli's body glistened in the dim light, and the smiling blond continued working the lotion into her skin.  Wow!

Finally, her self-annointment complete, Karli leaned over the bed, pulled the bedspread and top sheet down the bed and from under Agatha's body, then reached for the button of the blinking, wide eyed prisoner's beach-wrap.

"Nrrrrf!"  Agatha tried rolling away, but Karli succeeded in unbuttoning and removing the wrap without difficulty.

"Stop squirming," Karli chuckled as she climbed onto bed next to her now naked captive.

This time, Agatha didn't follow orders.  She not only continued squirming, but she also kicked and tried to roll away.

"None of that, silly girl," Karli chuckled, then lifted a leg over Agatha's body and settled a portion of her weight on the wiggling prisoner's hips and lower tummy.  She then reached for the bottle of lotion, poured a generous dollop on her hands, and rubbed them together.  "You have very pretty skin, Agatha," she purred, then began massaging lotion on Agatha's shoulders and breasts.

"Mrrrpfh!"  Heart hammering like never before, Agatha shivered from head to toe.

"Yes, very pretty skin," Karli sighed.  She continued moisturizing her captive, and Agatha continued shivering.  Apparently satisfied with the state of Agatha's front, she lifted herself onto her knees, flipped Agatha onto her stomach, settled back down, and moisturized the diminutive brunette's back.  She then climbed off Agatha and moisturized her rump, thighs, calves, and feet.

Agatha didn't struggle as Karli completed her intimate task.  She did continue shivering, however, especially when Karli rubbed lotion on her inner thighs.  A thrill of dread rippled between Agatha's legs and up her spine when the edge of Karli's palm brushed against her labia.  A naked massage from a naked masseuse.  Wow!  A naked massage from a naked Karli!  Double-wow!

Agatha's "ordeal" complete, Karli capped the bottle, returned it to the bedside table, reclined next to Agatha, pulled the covers over both their bodies.  She then turned off the Wonder Woman lamp.  Just to be clear, Karli was snuggling with her naked, bound and gagged captive!  This did not help Agatha's shivering problem, to say the least.

"My poor little adorable Munchkin," Karli whispered in Agatha's ear.  "Don't be frightened.  I'm not going to do anything to you."

You mean anything else, don't you? Agatha thought.

"If you need to use the little damsel's room during the night," Karli purred, "just find a way to wake me up.  I won't mind."  She kissed the top of Agatha's head.  "Goodnight."

And that was that.  Agatha lay in Karli's gentle embrace, very much aware of the bulge of her captor's breasts against her back, and the pressure of her firm thighs against her rump.  Wow!  Getting myself kidnapped, stripped naked, bound and gagged, and spooning all night with my kidnapper was not on my plan for the day.  Following Finley had sounded like a fun lark, but this?

Eventually, Agatha stopped shivering, her heart rate slowed... and she realized she was falling asleep.  Go figure!

The master bedroom of Sinister Stirling Mansion had an attached master bath, so Catherine and Finley were able to prepare for bed without bothering Agatha and Karli.  More precisely, Catherine helped Finley prepare for bed, in much the same way that Karli had helped Agatha; however, Catherine dispensed with Finley's beach-wrap and her own robe almost immediately upon entering the bedroom.  This was not the first meeting of the "book club."  Finley's box-tie Vet-wrap bondage and Elastoplast gag had remained intact through all preparations and all the way into bed.  Why?  It was Catherine's preference (and Finley's turn on the bottom).

Like Karli, it was Catherine's habit to moisturize nightly, and Finley watched as her hostess/captor took her time, rubbing lotion over her entire body.  Was the statuesque, beautiful brunette putting on a show for her red-haired captive?  Of course.  And after Catherine's form had taken on a slightly glistening sheen from head to toe, she proceeded to moisturize her guest/captive.

Finley tried to maintain a pretense of Righteous Outrage, but what was the point?  This was foreplay and they both knew it.

Preliminaries complete, Catherine climbed between the sheets of the king-size, four-poster bed and snuggled with her house guest, prisoner, and fellow book club member.  She peeled the tape from Finley's lips and planted a deep, wet kiss on her pouting lips.  Finley returned the kiss for several seconds, then hummed and broke contact.  "What is it, darling?" Catherine purred.  Her left hand was teasing Finley's right nipple.

"You told Karli to go easy on Agatha, right?" Finley asked.  She was shivering in her bonds, slightly, and in Catherine's embrace, but otherwise was doing her best to be all business.  It was... difficult.

Catherine smiled and gave Finley's breast a gentle squeeze before answering.  "Karli knows she's already in enough trouble for seizing both the initiative and your darling little clerk, darling.  I ordered her to keep Agatha safe, but not to take any liberties."  She released Finley's right breast, then gave the redhead's left nipple a playful tweak.  "She can cuddle and spoon with her prisoner all night, but no torture..."  She kissed Finley's pouting lips, again.  "And no nookie."  Her hand slid down Finley's body and cupped the shivering captive's labia.  "I'll torture her later, for being so impetuous."

"And by 'her' you mean Karli, of course," Finley gasped.  Catherine's hand was slowly caressing her pussy.  "N-not Agatha."

"Of course," Catherine chuckled quietly, then kissed Finley's left ear.  "I assume you're going to torture our little snoop—"  She kissed Finley's ear, again.  "—at some point."

"In a manner of speaking," Finley confirmed.  "I'll make sure she's discrete to the point of total silence about our... book club."

"What she knows of it," Catherine purred.

"What she knows of it," Finley agreed, then gasped as Catherine's index finger parted her labia and slid between the flushed, glistening folds of flesh.  "Ahhh—mrrrf!"  Catherine's right hand was now clamped over Finley's mouth, even as the grinning brunette's left hand continued its slow, gentle, intimate massage of her pussy.  "Mrrrpfh."

"Quiet, you," Catherine chuckled.  "My bedroom is reasonably soundproof, but Karli and her Munchkin are only two doors down."  The massage continued, at some point crossing the line into frigging, and Finley began writhing in Catherine's embrace, as well as continuing to shiver.

"Mrrrrr."

"I said, quiet," Catherine whispered.  "I guess I'll have to take measures."  She climbed onto Finley's body, settling a portion of her weight on the squirming redhead's waist, and all the while maintaining her hand-gag.  "Lucky for you, I come prepared."

Finley continued her weak struggles as Catherine pulled something out from under the pillow and began stuffing it into Finley's mouth.  The something in question was a wad of smooth, white fabric, probably a polyester blend, or possibly silk.

"Those are the panties you wore to today's meeting," Catherine explained, then produced a second wad and began stuffing it into Finley's mouth alongside the first.  "And these are my panties."  She maintained her hand-gag, keeping the panties in place, then produced a partial roll of white Vet-wrap and began wrapping it around Finley's head, first cleaving her lips and anchoring the silky mass filling her mouth to capacity, then mummifying her lower face from nose to chin.

Finley confined her physical resistance to a little kicking of her legs and twisting and squirming of her lower body.  Catherine's weight and strong (shapely) thighs controlled her efforts easily.  She did lock eyes with her smiling captor and send more of the proverbial daggers in her captor's smug direction, but more or less cooperated in the application of her gag.

"There, that will keep you quiet," Catherine purred as she smoothed the layers of tape.  She smiled down at Finley, leaned forward and placed her hands to either side of Finley's now thoroughly gagged head, and locked her elbows.

Finley redirected her gaze to Catherine's hanging breasts.  God, she's magnificent, the prisoner sighed.  The breasts in question were large without being huge, and despite their owner's fifty-something years, remained firm.  And Finley knew from personal experience that not only did they look firm, they were firm... within reason.  Finley sighed through her gag, again.  Reason has nothing to do with it, she mused.

Catherine seemed to be reading her prisoner's thoughts.  She sat back, still pinning Finley to the bed with a portion of her weight, cupped her own breasts with both hands, smiled, and squeezed.  "You like these?" she purred, then leaned to the side, opened the top drawer of the nightstand, and produced a pair of clover clamps, spring-loaded nipple clamps of chrome steel connected by a light chain.  She settled her weight back on Finley's tummy, squeezed her thighs together, then began teasing her nipples with the business ends of the clamps.  "You wish it was your turn on top, don't you?" Catherine purred.  Her nipples were already erect, as were Finley's, and she continued using the clamps to toy with the nubbins of dark pink flesh.  "You wish you could use these things to torment my nipples, don't you?"

Finley gazed at the nipples in question.  Catherine's questions were rhetorical, of course, but in both cases the answer was a resounding yes!

"Unfortunately," Catherine purred, "tonight I'm on top."  And with that, she began teasing Finley's left nipple with one of the clamps, letting the other rest on the redhead's chest.

Finley shivered and squirmed.  She knew what was coming.

Catherine squeezed the base of the clamp with her left hand, opening the vice-like pads—gripped, pulled, and stretched Finley's left nipple between her right thumb and index finger—then closed the clamp around the base of the nipple.

Finley squeezed her eyes closed and forced a whine past her gag.  "Mmmmf!"  The damn thing hurt!  Just like it had hurt the last time.  And the time before.  She whined again—"Mmmmf!"—when Catherine clamped her right nipple.  The initial jolt was already settling into an unpleasant but bearable burn... also like on previous occasions.

Catherine smiled as she crooked the connecting chain with her right index finger and gave the clamps a playful tug.

Finley winced and glared in response.

"I'll take care of Karli," Catherine said, "and you make sure Agatha is a good girl.  No more sneaking around, and no gossiping to her friends.  If not—"  She tugged on the chain, again, and Finley winced, again.  "—I'll lock the little snoop in my basement, chained to the wall, and brainwash her until she will be good.  Understand?"

Finley's response was a scathing stare, rather than a submissive nod.  She even managed to ignore a third tug on the nipple-clamps.  They'd assessed Agatha's reaction soon after her "kidnapping," while the adorable little snoop was languishing in the spare bedroom, discussed the situation, and agreed that Agatha was trustworthy... within limits.  Catherine's warning was pure theater.  Anyway, Finley would handle Agatha.  On that they'd already agreed.

Catherine reached into the bedside table drawer, again, but this time returned with a torpedo-style vibrator.  It was covered with purple latex and had a curved tip.  "My new toy," she purred, turning the vibrator in her hands for Finley's inspection.  "It's rechargable.  The unit fits right in the drawer with the cord trailing out the back.  Multiple speeds, and as you can see—"  She stuck out her tongue and gave the conical, curved tip a delicate, kittenish lick.  "It's designed to entertain G-spots."

Catherine then climbed off Finley's body, reclined under the covers, snuggled close and embraced Finley from behind, and nuzzled her ear.  "You're going to cum like a little bunny all night," she whispered.

Finley shivered in Catherine's embrace.  Her hostess/lover had crooked her right thumb through the nipple-clamps' connecting chain and was keeping a firm pressure on both clamps.  The burn had already transitioned to something halfway between torment and stimulation, also like on previous occasions.  Catherine did something to the base of the vibrator—"Hmm..."—and it buzzed to life.  Finley shivered and kicked as Catherine began running the vibrator's tip back and forth against her labia.

"Don't you dare close your legs, Red," Catherine whispered.  Red was her nickname for Finley, of course.  "If you don't stop playing hard to get, I'll lash your ankles to the tops of separate bedposts and whip your butt."

Finley continued shivering and squirming, but she stopped kicking and kept her thighs spread.  She knew Catherine wasn't kidding about a little whipping and kept a riding crop in her bedroom for just that purpose.  Best not to give her an excuse, or more precisely, any further excuse.

Catherine continued teasing Finley's pussy with the vibrator.  She had no intention of granting her guest a quick orgasm.  The first climax of the evening should be earned, coming (cumming) only after many, many long minutes of teasing frustration.  Not for the first time, Catherine reflected on the fact that the one whose turn it was to be on the bottom almost always got the majority of the evening's orgasms, sometimes all of the evening's orgasms.  That didn't have to be the case, of course, but it was the norm for Catherine, Red, and Karli's "book club."

The next morning, Friday morning, Karli roused her house guest/captive, restored her glasses, and took her down the hall to use the bathroom.

Agatha's arms were still folded behind her back and her fingers, hands, and forearms mummified under tight, overlapping layers of white Vet-wrap, and she was still naked.  She was also tape-gagged, but not for long.  After she'd emptied her bladder, Karli peeled the strip of Elastoplast from the pouting pixie's lips, filled a glass with cold water, and held it for Agatha to drink.

Karli was also naked, still naked, as she'd been all night... in bed... with Agatha.  In the morning light flooding through the bathroom window, Agatha gazed (leered) at her tall, athletic kidnapper's and recent bed-mate's body.  She really would make a magnificent Viking Shieldmaiden, Agatha thought.  Maybe I can talk her into cosplaying at the next ComicCon.  She gazed at Karli's strong, firm muscles, flat, well-sculpted stomach, and full, firm breasts.  And Agatha could confirm that Karli's breasts were firm.  They'd been pressed against various parts of Agatha's anatomy for most of the night.  Anyway, full breasts, strong shoulders, beautiful face...  Karli's physique was lithe and strong, but she was no bodybuilder.  She was very feminine... and gorgeous.  And she had an allover tan.  I wonder how she does that? Agatha wondered.  Sunbathing in the backyard?  And she had gorgeous blue eyes—which were staring at Agatha right now.  Agatha blushed bright crimson.

"A penny for your thoughts," Karli purred as she led her naked charge back to her bedroom.

"V-viking!" Agatha blurted.  "You should cosplay a Viking.  'B-because you are one."

"I see," Karli said quietly.

Was it Agatha's imagination, or was Karli blushing as well?  Not as much as Agatha, of course, but the blonde's cheeks had taken on a rosy tinge.

"I know," Karli chuckled.  They entered the bedroom, she led Agatha to the bed, then sat her down.  "I'll cosplay a shieldmaiden of Rohan, and you'll be my Hobbit prisoner."

"Viking, Rohan, same thing," Agatha huffed.  "But what, exactly, does a 'Hobbit prisoner' look like?"

Karli had stepped into the closet, but her voice easily reached Agatha on the bed.  "You know what a Hobbit looks like: bare, hairy feet, peasant skirt, apron, scoop-neck blouse so you'll be showing Hobbit-cleavage, and pointy ears.  You'll have to buy a pair of granny glasses, of course."

And the 'captive' part? Agatha wondered.

"And as for the 'captive' part," Karli continued, apparently reading Agatha's mind, "your wrists will be bound behind your back, you'll have a rope leash around your neck, and you'll be cleave-gagged with a rag of rough-spun cloth.  Voilà, Hobbit prisoner."  Karli returned to the bedroom, but now she was fully dressed in sneakers, jeans, and cotton blouse.  The blouse was different from yesterday, but she was dressed.  She was also carrying Agatha's folded jeans, blouse, and sneakers.  "Here, get dressed," she said as she placed the clothes on the bed next to Agatha.

Agatha tugged on her Vet-tape bonds.  "And how am I supposed to do that?" she muttered.

"Silly me," Karli chuckled.  "I'll help."  She knelt and pulled Agatha's jeans over her feet, then stood, lifted Agatha to her bare feet, and pulled the jeans up the bound captive's legs.

"Hey, my panties!" Agatha objected.

"Sorry, Munchkin," Karli purred as she zipped and buttoned Agatha's jeans.  "I put your delicates in to soak and forgot to put them in the dryer.  You'll have to go commando."

"Commando," Agatha huffed.  Her cheeks were burning, once again.

Karli knelt and laced on Agatha's sneakers, then grabbed the prisoner's blouse and led her from the bedroom.  "Don't worry, I'll drop off your unmentionables at the store, in a plain brown wrapper, of course.  Either that, or you can come back by and pick them up yourself, anytime after today."

"Very funny," Agatha pouted.  Wearing jeans, sneakers, and glasses (and still blushing), and with Karli firmly gripping her left arm, they descended the stairs and approached the entryway.

Catherine and Finley were waiting.  Catherine was in a very pretty dress and (as always) was looking very beautiful.  Finley was next to her, fully dressed in the same outfit as yesterday, including the raincoat.  Catherine was smiling.  Finley was not.

"Good morning, Agatha," Catherine said.

"G-good morning," Agatha stammered, then smiled at Finley (or tried to, anyway).  "Good morning."

"Morning," Finley said evenly (almost in a growl).  She still wasn't smiling.

Agatha was very much aware that she was topless... with her breasts in plain sight... which is what topless means, of course.  Karli had produced a pair of bandage scissors from somewhere and was finally slicing through her Vet-wrap bonds.  Agatha was still blushing... and doing her best not to shiver with embarrassment.

"Adorable," Catherine sighed.

Finley rolled her green eyes in response, but was that a smile quivering on her lips?

Free of her bonds and her hands and forearms tingling, Agatha rubbed her hands together and rolled her shoulders.  It felt very good not to have her arms folded behind her back and wrapped in tape, very good.

"Well," Finley huffed, "make yourself decent.  What are you waiting for?"

Agatha realized Karli was still behind her and was holding her blouse, waiting for her to slide her arms into the sleeves.  She did so, then fumbled to close the buttons.

"We're going to breakfast," Finley announced.  "And then to work."  Obviously, she was addressing Agatha.

Breakfast? Agatha thought.  Breakfast is good.  Karli had taken Agatha's trench coat down from a coat hook and was holding it for Agatha.  She slid her arms into the sleeves, then cinched the cloth belt around her waist.

"And no talking," Finley ordered.  "You'll speak when spoken to, understand?"

Agatha blinked through her glasses, and nodded.

Karli opened the front doors, both the entryway's inner door and the outer door.  Catherine planted a kiss on Finley's lips, then did the same to Agatha as she passed.

Agatha turned and looked back at her hostesses.  She thought she ought to say something, but, (A) nothing clever and/or appropriate came to mind, and (B) Finley had ordered her to keep her trap shut.  Agatha decided an embarrassed smirk and surreptitious wave would have to do.  She then hurried after Finley.

"Adorable," Karli sighed as the redhead and diminutive brunette strolled away down the block.

"She certainly is," Catherine agreed as Karli closed and locked the font door.  "Now..."  Catherine's smile faded as she stared at her blond maid.  Technically, Karli's position was that of maid, but she was also much more.  "It was reckless and irresponsible of you to grab the Munchkin.  You should have just shooed her on her way.  You escalated things totally out of control."

Karli shrugged.  "It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I was in control."

"A good idea," Catherine sighed, slowly shaking her head.  "Your clothing privileges are revoked until further notice.  Fetch a full set of slave chains from the basement and report to the Garden Parlor."

Karli's gaze dropped to the carpet and her lips pursed in a truly tragic pout.  Only Catherine had the keys to the chains in the basement.  "Yes, Mistress," she sighed, then headed for the stairs and her bedroom to put away her clothes.