|by Van © 2015
at a charming little restaurant about a block and a half from
Bibliophile Books. It wasn't exactly the store's staff
haunt, but Finley and her employees were regular
customers. Finley ordered for them both: California
Omelets (crumbled bacon, shredded jack cheese, diced tomatoes,
diced onion, and sliced avocado), hash browns, white toast, and
coffee. Agatha would have preferred the English Muffin
bread option, but she wasn't stupid enough to speak. The
food was delicious, but unfortunately, Agatha's meal came with a
generous side-order of crow. All she could do was sit
there, eat (she was hungry), and listen in abject silence as
Finley read her the riot act.
Between fork-loads of omelet, Finley emphasized her Deep
Personal Disappointment at Agatha's betrayal of her privacy and
her embarrassment at her childish shenanigans with Karli.
That last part was absurd (in Agatha's humble opinion) as her
so-called "shenanigans with Karli" had been completely
involuntary. Also, what about Finley's shenanigans with
Catherine? Agatha wasn't about to bring any of that
out into the open, of course. She just took her
medicine... and ate her omelet.
Thankfully, there was no discussion of terminating Agatha's
employment (Thank God!) but her boss made it quite clear
that every onerous and/or undesirable task that came up at the
store from now until The End of Time would be Agatha's
responsibility. Also, if and when Catherine and/or Karli
came into the store, Agatha was to drop whatever she was doing
and wait on them personally, and she better do a good job!
Finally, Agatha was not to discuss anything
that had happened at Sinister Stirling Mansion with anybody.
There hadn't previously been an Official Secrets Act/Total
Nondisclosure paragraph in Agatha's employment contract, but
there was now! One word about the "book club" to
anyone, and "bad things" would happen. Finley wasn't
specific, but Agatha got the point.
Agatha doubted she'd remain in Finley's personal doghouse until
the nuclear furnace of the last star in the universe burned out
and everything everywhere cooled to absolute zero, but she
wasn't stupid enough to be anything but abject and
contrite. She kept her eyes on her plate, ate, and nodded
at the appropriate times during the "conversation." She
also blushed. Boy how she blushed.
Finally (Thank God!) the meal was over, Finley paid the
bill, and they trooped to the store.
Agatha went about her duties, wondering if it was obvious that
she wasn't wearing a bra. Her blouse was white and the
fabric somewhat thin, but her complexion was naturally fair
(when and where she wasn't blushing) so she thought she was
probably okay. She had found an opportunity to brush her
hair in the staff bathroom right before the store opened.
She hadn't realized that her short, fine, brown locks had been
something of a tousled mess at breakfast and all during
the journey from Catherine's place. She blamed Karli, of
course. The Shieldmaiden should have brushed her hair for
her back in the bathroom, before presenting her to Catherine and
Finley in the mansion's entryway... topless and bound... with
The mail arrived and included three boxes of new books and one
of new comics, which Finley ordered Agatha to personally haul to
the back, open, and check the contents against the enclosed
invoices and the ordering records, and she was to "be
quick about it and stop dawdling!" Agatha liked receiving
new comics. She liked the smell of the ink and paper and
enjoyed getting first crack at reading the latest issues, but
this was different. She was stuck in the back of the store
processing newly arrived books and languishing in
Finley's metaphorical doghouse.
"Well?" an all too familiar voice inquired.
Agatha paused in the act of using a box-cutter to slit the tape
sealing the last of the boxes and frowned at Chibi, her
BFF. She waved the blade in Chibi's direction. "Go
away." She then clicked the blade closed, placed it on the
worktable, and began unloading the box.
"Don't be like that," Chibi giggled. "Dish!"
"I've been ordered to keep silent," Agatha sighed.
"Oh, I see," Chibi said gravely. She turned and made a
show of peering into the store to make sure neither Finley,
Edwina, nor any of their customers were anywhere near.
"The coast is clear," she whispered. "Dish!"
"No!" Agatha huffed. "I promised Finley. Besides...
Chibi's smile widened. "You're coming to my place tonight
Agatha heaved a sad sigh. "I'm tired, and I'm gonna be exhausted
by closing time. All I'm gonna want is a hot shower and
"My place," Chibi chuckled. "Dinner. That's an
order." And with that, she returned to the main store.
Agatha heaved another sigh. "Everybody's giving me
orders," she muttered to herself under her breath, then began
verifying the titles and quantities of the books against the
a small deck off what she called her back parlor. It was
big enough for a small barbeque grill, a table for four, a
couple of lounge chairs, but not much else. When you
factor in flowerbeds of mostly perennials and flowering shrubs,
the entire remaining yard wasn't much bigger, with less than 400
square-feet of manicured lawn. Trees and a dense hedge
provided privacy from the neighboring townhouses.
At the moment, Catherine was taking advantage of a short,
carefully regulated interval of the two or three hours a day
when direct sunlight graced the deck. Totally nude, her
body glistening with sunscreen, Catherine was reclined on her
back on one of the lounge chairs. Next to her on a
side-table was a tall glass of lemonade (with ice and a slice of
lemon) and her iPhone.
Out on the lawn, Karli was on her knees and busy weeding one of
the flowerbeds. Like her mistress, Karli was nude;
however, she wasn't totally nude. A steel collar was
locked around her neck, her wrists were manacled about two feet
apart, her ankles shackled and hobbled a similar two feet, and a
vertical chain connected the collar to central rings in the
wrist and ankle chains. All elements of the restraints
were stainless steel, polished chrome bright and with smooth
edges. Karli was also wearing a straw sunhat with a wide
brim, leather work gloves, knee-pads, and sneakers. Her
toned, tan body glistened with sunscreen and sweat. In
fact, her body was dripping with sweat, including her
Just then, Catherine's iPhone sounded a melodic ringtone
reminiscent of cathedral bells. Catherine sat up and took
a drink of lemonade, then reclined, again, and rolled onto her
stomach. At the same time, Karli heaved a long-suffering
sigh, removed her gloves, stood, stretched to the extent her
chains would allow, then clinked and clanked her way to the
deck. She anointed her hands with sunscreen, then began
massaging it into the tan, smooth skin of Catherine's
shoulders... back... thighs... calves... and feet. She
eyed the lemonade on the side-table, but didn't presume to try
sneaking a drink. She didn't have permission.
"You're being horribly unfair," Karli muttered as she
used a small towel to clean her hands.
"What's that, darling?" Catherine asked quietly.
"You're being unfair," Karli reiterated. "You could tell just
as well as I could that Munchkin wanted to play. It was
"Yes," Catherine chuckled. "The only one who didn't know
was the Munchkin, herself. I suppose I am being
"Grossly unfair," Karli huffed.
"Tell you what," Catherine said, "finish weeding that flowerbed,
I'll finish my sunbath, and you can help me take my afternoon
nap... down in the basement."
A happy smile curled Karli's lips. "I can live with that,"
she purred, then left the deck and returned to the task at hand.
Books closed at the usual time. Chibi waited for her BFF
to finish dusting the shelves and sweeping the floor—a task that
from now on would be Agatha's and Agatha's alone whenever she
had the closing shift, either until hell froze over or Finley
forgave her for being a nosy-parker—then the friends made their
way to Chibi's apartment.
"What's for dinner?" Agatha asked, suppressing a yawn.
"You are tired," Chibi chuckled. "Dinner will be
my world famous 'Chibi Chiba's Chunky Chili,' with fresh
tortillas and lots of cerveza."
Agatha found the strength required to exhibit the appropriate
enthusiasm. "Yippee." Actually, Chibi's chili was
delicious. She'd perfected a recipe that let her dump the
ingredients into her mini crock pot in the morning so everything
could simmer to perfection on "lo" and be ready when she got
home. Chibi bought her tortillas at a neighborhood bodega,
as well as her "secret ingredients," various varieties of fresh
and dried chilies. Agatha had no idea if the resulting
dish was "authentic," but it sure was good.
Chibi's apartment was one flight up, over a somewhat mediocre
pizza restaurant, and had a spectacular view of the
uninteresting façade of the building across the street. In
terms of decor, the adjectives plain, sparse, and spartan always
came to Agatha's mind, also tasteful and pleasant. It
wasn't clear whether Ikea or the traditions of Japan held sway,
but Agatha had always admired the lack of clutter and clash.
The aroma of the simmering chili filled the apartment, and Chibi
and Agatha wasted little time with the final preparations.
Chibi fired up her stove top and prepared to toast tortillas on
the largest burner while Agatha set the table. Soon, the
BFFs were enjoying heaping bowls of thick chili, bites of warm
tortilla, and swigs of ice-cold Corona Light, straight from the
"Okay, dish," Chibi ordered between bites of chili.
"I love the way the chunks of beef just fall apart in your
mouth," Agatha said. "I suppose it's the low, slow heat
that makes it so—"
"Agatha!" Chibi barked. "Focus. And dish."
Agatha affected what she liked to call "grin-smirk #3." It
was equal parts smugness and beguilement. She took a swig
of beer, then began telling the tale of Agatha Schmeling,
Girl Detective and The Secret of Sinister Stirling
Mansion. Chibi already knew all the players
involved, of course, so Agatha didn't have to dwell on Catherine
or Karli's appearances—except when it came to Karli's breasts
and flat tummy. Chibi had never seen
Karli-the-Shieldmaiden au naturel. Agatha also
dwelled on the various ways Karli had tied her up, and
(presumably) that Catherine had tied up Finley.
"I think they're into bondage," Agatha said at the conclusion of
"Obvi," Chibi chuckled, "but I don't know how much
they're into Kinbaku. From what you describe, the
ties were pretty simple."
Agatha rolled her eyes and emptied her bottle of Corona Light,
her second bottle of Corona Light. She usually
wasn't much of a drinker, but storytelling is thirsty
work. "I suppose you know all about Kimba...
whatever you said."
"Kinbaku," Chibi corrected, "which means 'tight
binding.' The art form is Kinbaku-bi, 'the beauty
of tight binding.' My brothers found some books on the
subject and used me as their practice dummy."
Agatha frowned. "Art form?"
"You know the Japanese," Chibi chuckled. "Anything worth
doing is worth obsessing over."
"They tied you up?" Agatha sighed. "That sounds mean."
Chibi smiled. "Not to worry. I got to practice on
them, too. None of us formally studied the art, but we got
pretty good." She gathered their bowls and plates and
headed for the kitchen. "I'll show you after I clean up."
Agatha blinked in surprise, then gathered the beer bottles and
carried them to Chibi's glass recycling bin. "Show me?"
"I usually get two meals out of one pot of chili," Chibi said as
she loaded the dishwasher. "You owe me a dinner."
"Okay," Agatha agreed, "but... show me?"
Chibi smiled at her BFF. "I've got a few hundred yards of
rope squirreled away around here someplace."
At about the same time Bibliophile Books was
closing for the day...
The basement of Catherine's
mansion was about what you'd expect. The original
construction had included a bulky coal furnace and heating
ducts, so after the old system was removed and replaced there
was plenty of headroom. That said, the ceiling was nothing
but exposed floor joists and load-carrying beams with the usual
heating ducts, electrical runs, and plumbing lines tucked
between. The floor and walls were poured concrete.
Steel support columns distributed the weight of the house among
themselves and the walls, but there was lots of
floorspace. Lighting was courtesy of several plain, rather
industrial-looking fixtures dangling from the rafters.
There were the usual utilities: heat-pump, water heater,
electrical panel, and municipal water and sewer tie-ins; as well
as a deep-sink, washer, and dryer.
A total of five small windows set high in the walls were spaced
around the room. The glass panes were all painted with a
frosting compound, for privacy's sake, the exterior window-wells
were kept trash-free by plexiglass bubbles, and the interiors
were protected by cast-iron anti-burglar bars solidly bolted
into the framing. Overkill? Yes.
Opposite the stairs leading to and from the kitchen was a small
alcove with concrete steps leading up to a steel bulkhead
door. The door was solidly bolted on the inside and
secured with a high-security padlock. In addition, a gate
of iron bars closed across the basement side of the alcove and
was also secured with a high-security padlock. More
Clutter-wise, Catherine's basement was reasonably neat.
Steel shelving screened the laundry area and main stairs.
The usual boxes and plastic bins full of seasonal decorations
and junk too "valuable" to discard were neatly arranged on the
shelves, and immediately behind the shelves black canvas privacy
curtains were suspended from a horizontal steel cable.
Beyond the shelves and curtains was a large open area,
two-thirds of the basement, in fact. Along the walls of
this impromptu space were three of the basement's five windows,
the bulkhead door alcove, and a pair of old, mismatched wooden
Centered in the space was a table, but the residents of Sinister
Stirling Mansion referred to it as the table.
The table in question was about thirty inches in height, two
feet wide, and seven feet long. It was entirely of thick
hardwood timbers, constructed with well-braced, compound joinery
and heavy, countersunk bolts. A full-grown elephant could
have used it for a bench without causing damage. All of
the table's edges were rounded and its surface sanded
smooth. It was a fine piece of carpentry, but with a
rustic, utilitarian look. There was one unusual detail:
steel pad-eyes with dangling steel rings were solidly bolted to
all four edges and spaced every few inches apart, below the
level of the tabletop. Obviously, they were lashing points
for securing things to the table. The uninitiated might
still believe they were looking at some sort of work table, but
in point of fact, "the table" was a highly functional and
well-designed bondage table.
At the moment, the table was serving its intended purpose as
well as being the site of Catherine's "afternoon nap."
Still naked from her sunbath, her tan skin glistening with a
slight patina of sunscreen and sweat, the Mistress of the
Mansion was flat on her back with her arms at her side.
Her wrists were tied to her upper thighs, her lower and upper
arms to her torso, and her legs tied together from thighs to
ankles. Catherine's bonds were comprised of quarter-inch
white nylon rope, and were cinched between her limbs and body as
well as lashing her to the table. Her bonds were
plentiful, neat, symmetrical, and tight enough to slightly
dimple her smooth, coconut-scented skin.
Karli had been the rigger, of course, and had accomplished the
task with her usual competence. As a concession to
comfort, she'd placed a small pillow under her beloved Mistress'
head, and for security reasons, had plastered a strip of
Elastoplast tape over Catherine's smiling lips. They
wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors, now would they? Of
course, down in the basement, Catherine could have screamed her
head off for hours and the neighbors wouldn't hear a sound,
unless they had their ears pressed against the window-well
covers, but that was beside the point. Any gag, even a
single strip of tape, enhanced the experience.
Both Catherine and Karli had been known to take "afternoon naps"
on the table, naked and lashed in place for their security and
"comfort." These naps were usually one or two hours in
duration and often culminated with a transfer upstairs to one of
the bedrooms and/or a little nookie in place.
Oh-by-the-way, Karli had tied Catherine to the table more than three
hours ago. Mistress' nap was now going on four
Catherine squirmed and wiggled and did her absolute best to
escape her tight, numerous, exquisitely well-crafted
bonds. Everything was well-cinched, the elements
interlaced, and all knots several feet beyond the reach of her
fluttering fingers. All Catherine could manage was a tiny
fraction of temporary slack here or there, but always at the
expense of complementary increased tightness elsewhere.
She also tested her gag—"Mrrrrpfh!"—with predictable
results. She knew exactly what was going on.
Karli was in a snit, protesting her perceived
mistreatment. Of course, the delectable blonde had logged
many long hours toiling away at her onerous domestic duties
naked and in slave-chains, but restrained service wasn't the
issue. Catherine was being mean, so Karli was
being mean. That was half of it. The other half was
Karli topping from the bottom, manipulating and escalating the
situation so when she finally did decide to release Catherine
from the table, Mistress would have no choice but to retaliate.
Catherine realized she should have realized something
was up when Karli acted like such a drama queen while binding
her to the table. "These chains are sooo
heavy!" "How am I supposed to get my work done?" "I
can barely reach far enough to tie your wrists to your
thighs." She'd really laid it on thick. Catherine
should have realized what was up... not that she could have done
anything about it at the time. Karli had been prudent
enough to start her whining slave routine after she'd
applied Catherine's tape-gag and tied enough rope to render her
beloved Tyrant/Mistress helpless.
Catherine heaved a gagged sigh. Just wait 'til Karli
finally released her from her "nap." The naked, chained,
slightly sunburned blonde would rue the day she decided
to torment and/or manipulate her beloved Mistress... again.
So... what to do? And by that, Catherine meant what
to do to Karli after her release. In terms of Catherine's
present predicament, wiggling and squirming were her only
options. But regarding her impending torture of Karli,
Catherine had lots of options, and (apparently) plenty
of time to think about them. So... Frustration or
nonstop orgasms? It's too soon to tell.
Überbondage? Well... that sounds like a lot of work.
Überbondage was Catherine and Karli's name for using ridiculous
amounts of rope to lash the subject-of-the-moment in a
ridiculously contorted position. After all, they didn't
practice yoga for their health.
Actually, Catherine and Karli did practice yoga for
their health, but flexibility was a useful side-benefit with
respect to their "hobby."
Anyway, Catherine thought, tugging on her bonds, again, I'll
think of something.
Meanwhile, back at Chibi Chiba's Chili-Parlor
"Okay," Agatha said, "first
of all, your chili was amaze-balls, as always." She paused
to take a sip from her third Corona Light of the evening.
"And second of all, you are not going to tie me up."
Having finished loading the dishwasher, turning it on, and
wiping down the table with a damp rag, Chibi favored her BFF
with her patented Pout of Profound Disappointment. "Jeez,"
she sighed, "poop on the party much?"
"I was tied up last night," Agatha reminded her hostess and
alleged Kinbaku semi-expert.
"Taped up," Chibi corrected.
Chibi grinned. "Aren't you just the least bit
curious about the Beauty of Tight Binding?" she asked.
"Yes," Agatha answered after taking another swig of beer, "the
least bit, as least a bit as you can get with there still being
a measurable bit. Maybe less. In other words, no."
"I've got it," Chibi said as she joined her guest in the living
room. (Actually, Chibi's apartment was a studio, but there
was a designated non-sleeping lounge area, complete with TV and
futon.) "We'll play Truth or Dare."
Agatha was dubious. "Truth or Dare?"
"And to save time, we'll cut to the chase." Chibi sat next
to her BFF on the futon. "I go first. The question
is... 'Are you curious about Kinbaku?' The dare is
I tie you up as a demonstration." She climbed back to her
feet and headed for the coat closet next to the front
door. "You refuse the question and accept the dare."
She opened the closet door and rummaged inside.
"Just like that?" Agatha said with a smirk. "Why don't we
play chess? Don't bother setting up the board, of
course. Just assume you beat me in thirty-seven moves."
Chibi had produced a fourteen-gallon Rubbermaid plastic tote,
removed the cover, and was pulling out coils of quarter-inch
hemp rope. Or maybe it was jute. Agatha wasn't an
expert in natural fibers. "Chibi!" Agatha whined.
Apparently, the Kinbaku Express was leaving the station,
she was already on board, and Chibi was the conductor.
Chibi was returning to the futon with a distressingly looong
coil of rope in her hands. "Okay," she said as she sat
next to her guest/victim, released the coil and shook out the
rope, then doubled it and found the center. The apparently
soft and flexible rope slithered through her hands with
practiced familiarity. "She-who-is-to-be-bound pays the
proper respect to the Kinbaku master with a submissive
bow, there is an interval of meditation and contemplation,
yadda-yadda-yadda. Take off your top."
Agatha's response was frantic blinking and an inquisitive
"You're supposed to be wearing a kimono," Chibi explained, "but
I only own one and I don't want to mess it up."
Agatha blushed and protectively crossed her arms across her
chest. "I-I'm not wearing a bra!"
"And whose fault is that?" Chibi giggled.
"Karli," Agatha pouted.
Chibi rolled her eyes in mock disgust. "Are you a
domesticated ground-dwelling fowl of the order Gallinae?"
"I am not a chicken," Agatha huffed, then heaved a
long-suffering sigh and began unbuttoning her blouse. It
wasn't like Chibi hadn't ever seen her boobs, or Agatha hadn't
seen Chibi's boobs. They were members of the same gym and
it had a shower and a steam room.
"And speaking of kimonos..." Chibi purred. With Agatha's
passive cooperation, she tightened a doubled loop rope around
Agatha's chest and under her arms, above the boobs in
question. She then yoked Agatha's shoulders, forming a
figure-eight from armpit to armpit. The strands met in a
nexus more-or-less between Agatha's shoulder blades. "This
is a simple kimono-tie," Chibi explained.
The sensation of the rope strands tightening around her body,
slithering through the nexus in the back, and especially Chibi's
intimate adjustments as she reached around Agatha's body from
behind to position the ropes was... interesting. "Oh!"
Agatha gasped. Chibi had grabbed her hands, folded her
arms behind her back and up, and was lashing her crossed wrists
against the nexus. "T-that's tight," Agatha sighed.
"But not too tight," Chibi noted. "Your
circulation will be just fine. I can tell."
Agatha could feel her doing something with the remaining rope,
wrapping it around and through the other bindings in some
way. Aside from neatness, which Agatha supposed was the
point of that part of the exercise, it also served to tighten all
"There," Chibi said, then rose to her feet, padded to the
Rubbermaid tote, and returned with a second coil of rope.
"Kinbaku-bi values both symmetry and asymmetry,
and most ties are decidedly elaborate and complex. There
are established forms, like the kimono, box, turtle, shrimp, and
"Shrimp?" Agatha squeaked. Chibi had doubled and found the
center of the second coil, and now was threading it through her
wrist bonds and the kimono-tie nexus.
"Hush," Chibi giggled. "Don't interrupt teacher.
Anyway, there are established forms, and established variations
of each form, but the artist is free to mix and match.
It's the beauty of the final composition that's important.
For example, I'm now going to expand the kimono-tie into a
Chibi heaved a deep sigh and rolled her eyes. "You are not
going to let me tie you up in peace, are you?" She reached
into her hip pocket, pulled out a neatly folded white
handkerchief, shook it out and formed a loose wad, then reached
around and stuffed the wad into Agatha's unsuspecting mouth.
"I said hush," Chibi giggled, kept the hankie in place with her
left hand, and used her right to pull a folded scarf from her
other pocket. She refolded it, first point to point, then
into a bandage. "And stop squirming," the grinning Kinbaku
Agatha did not stop squirming, but she was unsuccessful
in either wiggling out of her BFF's embrace or forcing the wad
from her mouth. Soon, Chibi was tying the now narrowly
folded scarf as a cleave-gag, compressing and anchoring the
hankie in Agatha's mouth. She planned this, Agatha
realized as Chibi cinched and knotted the scarf at the nape of
her neck. "Mrrrrrf!"
"Now," Chibi said, "where was I? Oh yeah.
Agatha heaved a dramatic and heartfelt sigh as Chibi
tightened horizontal doubled bands of rope around her upper-arms
and torso, passing above and below her breasts! Her
hostess/BFF/kidnapper-of-the-evening then passed the remaining rope over her
left shoulder, down through the arm-pinning ropes and between
her breasts, then up and back over her right shoulder, thus
forming a "V" and pinching the horizontal ropes into an
"X." More wrapping and knot-tying ensued.
"All-rightie-then," Chibi giggled. Agatha was more or less
sitting in her lap. She scissored her legs around Agatha's
waist, then reached around her squirming body from either side
and began unbuttoning Agatha's jeans.
"Settle down," Chibi chuckled. "We agreed to make this a
sleepover, and you'll have to get rid of at least some
of that beer at some point."
"Mrrrf?" Agatha inquired. When did I agree to a
sleepover? she thought. I'm not that
drunk. In point of fact, given the adrenalin rush of
being naked (and soon to be totally naked) and tied up
by her BFF, Agatha was stone-cold-sober, with her heart beating
like crazy and her rope-framed (and slightly squeezed) breasts
"I've been wanting to show you the ropes for a long time,
Munchkin," Chibi giggled as she unzipped Agatha's jeans and
eased them down her squirming guest's hips.
"I'm sorry, Munchkin," Chibi cooed, "but you told me your new
mistress, Karli, named you 'Munchkin,' and now you gotta live
Karli is not my mistress, Agatha fumed as Chibi
stood and pulled her jeans from her legs and feet. She
stared daggers (terrified daggers) at her hostess. And
neither are you!
"I'll put these in the hamper," Chibi said as she tossed
Agatha's blouse and jeans towards her bathroom, "then I'll help
you relieve yourself, we'll adjourn to the bed, and I'll show
you my combination kikkou and ladder leg-bind."
Two nights in a row? Agatha blinked in awestruck
surprise. I'm going to be naked, bound, and gagged two
nights in a row? And what's a 'kikkou?'
Hands on her denim-clad hips, Chibi smiled down at her naked,
helpless, and soon to be even more helpless guest.
"Don't worry about work tomorrow. I'll find something for
you to wear. We're both the same size."