Pendulum! The Perils of the Penny Parr

   by Van ©2019

Chapter 10

Dramatis Personæ



Penny's current estimate of the distance between her clover-clamped nipples and the pendulum blade at the lowest point of its swing was... 1¾" (±¼")!  The precision of her estimates had improved as the gap closed, but she'd just as soon everything was still vague, imprecise and comfortably distant, like in the good-old-days, when the blade was tens of inches above her naked, spreadeagled, ball-gagged, and increasingly hot, bothered, and sweaty self.  But that was then...


And this was now!  And the blade was sweeping ever closer to her nips!  All things considered, now would be a good time for Rada to reappear and rescue her―even though the tall, tan, strong, beautiful, and wonderful Norwegian blonde was the Sadistic Villainess who'd put her here in the first place, chained to the table with the Blade of Doom swinging overhead (or overboob, as the case may be).  I'm a reasonable person, Penny thought, using that modest portion of her psyche not preoccupied with her eminent, horrible demise and/or FREAKING OUT in total panic.  Forgive and forget, that's my motto!


And when I really think about it, Penny decided, now would be an EXCELLENT time for Rada to reappear and rescue me!  She was panting around her ball-gag and her sweaty, clover-clamped boobs were heaving as she weakly tugged on her steel manacles and kicking against her steel shackles, more-or-less nonstop.  The rest of her was also sweaty... not just her boobs.  This was not how Penny had expected her Roget Manor Summer Vacation (or her young life) would end!

Swooosh!  Clack-cack-cack-cack-cack-cack-Klunk-ker'clatter-Thunk!

Penny blinked the sweat from her wide, desperate, blue eyes.  Uh... what just happened?  Actually, Penny knew exactly what had just happened.


More precisely, the clamp that had prevented the shaft from swinging at the beginning of Penny's fun-time-torture-ordeal had swung down on a hinged, pivoting bracket, grabbed the shaft, snapped shut, and stopped it from completing its latest swing!  (Or was it stopped it from starting the next swing?!)

So... Yippee?  Yes, Penny solemnly decided, definitely yippee.  She relaxed in her bonds, but continued panting and sweating.  Yippee!

"The mechanism actually has three separate and independent safety subsystems," a now familiar and decidedly sexy voice (with a trace of a singsong Norwegian accent) announced from somewhere behind Penny's ball-gagged head.

Penny flinched, lifted her saliva-dripping chin, rolled back her head, and blinked her blue eyes.  The speaker was Rada, of course.  How did she get in here? Penny wondered, continuing to blink.  How did I miss the click of the chamber door being unlocked, the thunk of the bolt being drawn, and the creeeee of the rusty hinges.  'Click-thunk-creeeee.'  It happens every time a door opens down here.  It's a feature.  The Rogets probably paid the builder extra money to make sure it happens.  Meanwhile, Rada had strolled to Penny's right, making it easier for her to be seen from the table.  That also brought the no-longer-swinging but still glinting pendulum blade back into view.  Oh, that's right, Penny remembered.  I was preoccupied.

Penny watched as Rada produced a large, heavy, steel locking-pin from somewhere and slid it through a pair of holes in the front end of the clamp, apparently as an added safety precaution.  Penny approved.  As far as the Pendulum of Doom was concerned, Penny was very much in favor of added safety precautions.

Oh-by-the-way, Rada was completely and gloriously nude.  She was also still overly-tall, overly-strong, overly-gorgeous, and smiling.  What's that about?  Penny wondered, meaning Rada's lack of spandex exercise togs or sexy leather Viking Dominatrix attire.  Anyway, Rada was a vision of blond, statuesque, Nordic beauty, and Penny wanted to kill her!  The pathetically helpless Victim-of-the-Pendulum-Gizmo tugged on her steel bonds, continued sweating and panting, and augmented her performance with a staggeringly hostile stare and a muffled string of expletives.  "Mrrr'mfh'r'mpfh!"

Rada smiled, ignoring Penny's gagged tirade.  "As I was saying, three separate and independent safety subsystems."  She pointed upwards, indicating three different sections of the mechanism as she spoke.  "The first is a steel locking-bracket that engages the upper end of the shaft... the second is a spring-loaded cam-block that snaps into place and locks the main gear... and the third is the clamp-assembly restraining the lower shaft."  She returned her smile to Penny.  "It's perfectly safe, you see?"

Yes, yes, I see, Penny silently fumed, still glowering, sweating, and panting.  I knew it all along.  But I'm still gonna murderize your tall, gorgeous, Norwegian ass!

"And surely you noticed the bloodstains and score marks on the table's surface," Rada continued, "by which I mean the complete absence of bloodstains and score marks on the table's surface?  Understand?  It's like the 'curious incident of the dog in the night-time' in that Sherlock Holmes story.  The dog's conspicuous lack of barking?"

I knew that! Penny thought, glaring up at her tall, gorgeous, nude tormentor... then heaved a frustrated sigh.  Actually, I didn't, she silently admitted, meaning the lack of score marks and bloodstains on the table and the various safety mechanisms, not the Sherlock Holmes reference.  Penny had read all of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's stories.  The viewing angle is wrong.  Yeah.  That's it.  The viewing angle is wrong.  That's why I didn't see the stuff that wasn't there and the safety stuff.  And don't call me 'Shirley!'

Penny heaved another frustrated sigh.  Airplane jokes?  I really do need to work up some fresh material.

"Mrrr!" Penny demanded (sort of).

Rada's gloating smile continued.  "You want something, Kattunge?"

"Mrrr!" Penny reiterated.

Rada leaned forward, turned Penny's head, parted her tousled, sweat-dampened hair, released the ball-gag's strap, rebuckled it on its first hole, then stood erect.

Penny glared at Rada as she worked her jaw and used her tongue to force the black, silicon-rubber ball from her mouth.  The saliva-dripping sphere rolled over her chin, dropped, and the ball-gag became a necklace.

"Get me off of this table so I can kill you!" Penny growled.  Actually, it was more of a croak than a growl.  Her throat was dry.

Still smiling, Rada set about doing just that.  She reached behind her right ear and produced a small key, then worked her way completely around the table, unlocking Penny's right manacle... right shackle... left shackle... and left manacle.

Penny sat up on the hard, slightly sweat-stained but neither scored nor bloodstained table and continued glaring.  "Which do you want first?" she huffed (dryly), "a black eye, a boob slap, or a kick between the legs?"

Rada laughed, then scooped Penny into her arms.

"Hey!" Penny complained, but, despite her harsh rhetoric, didn't squirm, thrash, or start throwing punches.  She did continue to glare, of course.  She also reached up and helped steady her sweaty, slippery self in Rada's arms by draping her right arm across the Norwegian Troll's left shoulder.  "I hate you!" she muttered, resting her head against Rada's breasts and heaving a sigh.

"I know," Rada chuckled, still smiling.  "A quick, refreshing shower is what you need," she prescribed as she carried Penny from the Pendulum Gizmo Chamber, down the dungeon corridor, and towards the basement stairs, "followed by a full-body massage inside a nice hot sauna,"

Penny lifted her head and stared daggers at her grinning captor/rescuer.  "So," she said (dryly).  "More torture."

Rada chuckled and the journey upstairs continued.  They paused in the kitchen to open the refrigerator door so Penny could reach out and lift a small bottle of spring water from a shelf.  It was a joint effort.  Rada continued cradling Penny in her arms and Penny did the reaching and lifting.

Penny also did the drinking.  She cracked the cap and took a long swing as the journey to the sauna resumed.  "Ahhh!" she gasped, "That really hit the spot."  Penny then remembered she was incredibly and justifiably angry, restored the cap, and resumed furiously glaring at her smiling, naked torturer/rescuer.

The Perils of Penny Parr   Chapter 10

The search for Gwyn's hiding place quickly became an onerous task.  The searchers in question were Mandy and Bethany, of course, and Rada hadn't made their task very easy.  They were naked and side-by-side.  Their adjacent arms were behind their backs and tightly encased in a black-leather, single-sleeve armbinder from their fingertips to their mid upper-arms.  Their adjacent legs were bound together with padded leather cuffs on their ankles and a leather strap around their lower thighs.  Leather Gwen-hoods and collars covered their heads and were buckled around their necks.  And finally, there were ball-gags and Elastoplast tape-gags hidden under the hoods, so aside from sighing and grunting, meaningful conversation was at an absolute minimum.  They were like contestants in a decidedly kinky three-legged footrace at a decidedly kinky picnic.

Mandy and Bethany's outer arms and legs were completely free, and having the unbound legs made "walking" significantly easier.  Also, the free arms, hands, and fingers
made it possible for them to grope for and release the cleverly hidden latches that secured each of the manor's many secret cubbyholes as they searched for Gwyn, the "prize" in Rada's perverted scavenger hunt.  Unfortunately, Rada had deployed a plethora of mini-padlocks to lock each and every buckle of the searchers' restraints, so their free hands were useless for purposes of freeing themselves.

Rada had explained that Gwyn was bound and gagged and sequestered in a secret cubbyhole somewhere in the manor, but not in the dungeons and basement or any of the outbuildings.  Rada might be lying, of course.  Gwyn could be relaxing in the pool house lounge, for all they knew, sipping sodas, reading a trashy novel, and not bound or gagged in any way, but the "seekers" couldn't take that chance.  Besides... Rada not taking advantage of an opportunity to bind and gag Gwyn, her precious little Valp?  Unthinkable.  Gwyn was bound and gagged and secreted away and needed rescuing.  Mandy and Bethany were sure of it... so they searched.

They'd already opened and eliminated more than a score of hiding places, including closets and store rooms that were not secret cubbyholes.  So far, no Gwyn.

Mandy had already known about some of the cubbyholes from last year's summer vacation.  She'd spent quality time naked, bound, and gagged inside a handful of them, but she had no idea Roget Manor had this many secret hiding places.  It was... amazing?  Sure, why not? Mandy silently decided.  It's 'amazing'... as opposed to over-the-top-excessively-kinky.  This entire place is over-the-top-excessively-kinky.  Way-too-many-secret-cubby-holes is just sprinkles on the mammoth cupcake.

Accompanied by the tinkling rattle of swinging and swaying mini-padlocks, the seekers visited room after room and opened cubbyhole after cubbyhole.  Still no Gwyn.  There were only a few more spaces they could check on the first floor... then it would be up the stairs and on to the second floor.

Suddenly, Rada came into view, striding down the main hallway connecting the kitchen with the gym area.  She was naked (like the last time the seekers had seen her, at the start of the "game"), and she was carrying an equally naked Penny in her arms.  Penny had a ball-gag around her neck, in necklace-mode, and was sipping from a bottle of spring water.  She was also blinking and gazing at Mandy and Bethany in wide-eyed curiosity.  To the seeker's great surprise, Penny wasn't bound in any way, not with rope, leather, steel chains, thin cord, or anything.  Go figure.

"Oh, for crying out loud, ladies," Rada chuckled as she passed the seekers and continued towards the gym.  "You are too slow.  She's in the attic."

"Huh?  What?" Penny sputtered, looking back at the Mandy/Bethany-three-legged-double-damsel over Rada's shoulder.

Then, Rada and her petite and not bound and gagged burden were gone.

Mandy and Bethany heaved a ball-gagged, tape-gagged, and Gwen-hooded sigh, then headed for the stairs.  Actually, in a bit of Three Stooges-style slapstick, they briefly headed in two different directions: Mandy for the manor's Grand Staircase, and Bethany for the nearest set of service stairs.  Needless to say, neither of them got very far.

"Mrrrmfh!" Bethany ordered, nodding her hooded head. ("This way!")

"Mr'rrr," Mandy sighed.  ("Yes, ma'am.")

The seekers "walked" away.  By this time, they'd developed a reasonably efficient tripod gait.  It did grind their hips together, but it wasn't too bad.  A little sweaty, but not too bad.

They came to the service stairs and slowly started up.  Bethany kept a firm grip on the handrail and Mandy's fingers brushed the opposite wall, ready to brace them if they started losing their balance.  So far, so good.

Mandy had to admit, Bethany's choice of the service stairs was probably a better option than the Grand Staircase.  Marginally safer, possibly.

The Perils of Penny Parr   Chapter 10

Rada and Penny arrived at the sauna area and the tall, strong, tan, Norwegian blonde carried the petite, sweaty, pale, American blonde across the space and directly under the shower, then pressed the appropriate virtual button of the shower's tiny, waterproof touchscreen.

"Eeep!  Rada!" Penny yelped as a cascade of ice cold water drenched both their bodies.  Okay, Penny admitted to herself, the water isn't actually ice cold, and actually, it feels kinda good, but on general principles...  Penny was a damsel-in-post-pendulum-recovery, and as such she had every right to be petulant and grumpy.  Besides, she was good at it.

Rada pressed the touchscreen again and the deluge abruptly stopped.  Both blondes were now dripping wet, of course, with their hair hanging in saturated strings and clinging to their faces.  This didn't stop Rada from finding and opening the sauna door.

"Ah!"  Penny was engulfed by a wall of hot, dry air as Rada carried her inside.  She waited to be set down, but instead, Rada continued cradling her with one arm as she filled a wooden bucket from a faucet with a wooden handle and used a wooden ladle to wet down one of the cedar benches.  Rada Grabhands was just that strong and competent.  It was impressive.  Penny helped by continuing to drape one arm across her shoulders and hold on, but still, Penny was impressed.  Penny further steadied herself by gripping Rada's right breast with her free hand.

"Stop that, Kattunge," Rada chuckled as she eased Penny onto the wet bench and rolled her onto her stomach.

Penny was trying to decide if she'd won on style points by squeezing Rada's boob (which was as firm as it looked, by the way), then―"Oooo!"―shivered with delight as Rada's strong hands began massaging her shoulders... then moved on to her back... butt... thighs... calves... and feet.  It felt goooood.  Penny decided to give Rada an hour (maybe two) to stop on her own before she'd put her foot down and demand that she stop.

"So..." Rada purred.  "What did you think of the Pendulum Machine?"

"Shut up!" Penny snapped.  "I'm gonna kill you."

"You didn't find the experience... exhilarating?"   Rada was kneading Penny's shoulders for the second time.  "You knew you were perfectly safe the entire time, of course.  You knew it.  I am not fooled."

"Shut up," Penny growled.  Actually, while her forebrain had known she was safe the entire time, that the Roget's incredible Pendulum Gizmo wouldn't harm her, her hindbrain, her so called lizard brain, hadn't been at all sure.  And towards the end, when the blade was whistling juuust above her clover-clamped nipples, the poor thing had been howling like a banshee.  And speaking of clover-clamps...

"Stop!" Penny barked, then lifted herself on her elbows and half-turned her upper body so she could glare at her masseuse.  "Get these things off me!" she ordered, nodding down at the clamps still squeezing her nips.  How the hell did I forget I'm still wearing these things? she wondered.  How is it possible to forget you're wearing nipple-clamps?

"Brace yourself," Rada purred, then reached down and slowly released the left clover-clamp... followed by the right clamp.

Penny didn't even flinch (much).  She already knew to expect a painful spike when the clamps were released, so she'd been prepared.  Did it hurt when Rada released the clamps?  Yes, but Penny was a brave, stoic, heroic damsel and managed to stifle her reaction (or most of it, anyway).

"Oh, my brave little Kattunge," Rada sighed, then rolled Penny onto her back, leaned down and gently kissed Penny's nipples, first on the right... and then on the left.

"Stop that," Penny huffed.  She considered slapping Rada's semi-pendulous breasts a few times for emphasis, but decided not to press her luck.  Besides, lying there and playing swat-the-boobies would be far too kittenish a course of action and would only reinforce Rada's irritating habit of calling her Kattunge.

Rada continued her irritatingly gorgeous smile as she began massaging Penny's front half.

Penny closed her eyes and tried her best not to smile back, reminding herself she was a much put upon grumpy kitten.  She also refrained from purring like said kitten... or Kattunge, in this case.  Rada's hands felt very good.  Everything was conspiring to lock her into this kitten/Kattunge thing.  It was most irritating.

The massage continued.

"Intellectually, I knew I was safe," Penny finally admitted, "but I was still scared.  Really scared."

"How could you not be scared?" Rada said quietly, "especially at the end, when the blade is close."

"Mainly at the end," Penny clarified.  It was true.  At about the three-inches-to-nipples mark, her terror had reached its maximum and plateaued.

At that moment, Penny had a fiendishly clever idea.  She opened one eye and focused on her masseuse.  "But of course," she said in an oh-so-nonchalant manner, "you wouldn't know about such things."

"What do you mean, silly Kattunge?" Rada chuckled.

"You know all about tying people up and doing horrible things to them with Bethany's kinky torture engines," Penny explained.  "It's your job, after all.  But..."

"Yes?" Rada purred.

"You've never been tied up yourself, so you don't really know what it's like," Penny said, in the same supremely careless manner.

Rada smiled down at Penny as she gently massaged her breasts... then her tummy and hips...  She then leaned close, until her nipples brushed Penny's, and kissed the little blonde's pouting lips.  "I come to your room tonight," Rada whispered, "so you can show me."

Penny managed not to flinch in triumph.  She also managed to suppress a supremely gleeful smile.  Did I really just win?  Was it really that easy?  No way!

Rada resumed her massage, and Penny was finding it harder and harder to maintain her grumpy Kattunge facade.

The Perils of Penny Parr   Chapter 10

Gwyn had had it up to here with languishing.


Languishing had its place, but this current bout of hang-around-and-wait was ridiculous, and not at all fun.  Granted, the Rada-box-tie (like the one currently pinning Gwyn's upper arms to her sides, double-yoking her shoulders, squeezing her boobs between an "X" of hemp strands, and lashing her forearms and wrists behind her back and against her spine) also had its place―as did an elaborate cinched-ladder-tie (like the one anchored to Gwyn's Rada-box-tie and dimpling the flesh of her legs every few inches all the way down to her big toes).  But Rada-box-tied, cinched-ladder-tied, and suspended, head up and toes down, lashed in a crisscross web of taut ropes inside a gym-locker-sized "secret cubbyhole" waaaaay up in the attic?  Come on!

Rolling around on a nice, soft mattress?  That was okay.  Rolling around in the straw on the floor of a dungeon cell?  Even that was okay... for a couple of hours.  But, come on!  Rada had left her like a fly cocooned in silk by a perverted spider!  And it was gonna be for all day? 

Gwyn could barely squirm.  In fact, she could barely wiggle!  She would have screamed in frustration, just on general principles, but not only was she ball-gagged, but Rada had buckled an obedience collar around her throat before abandoning her to her cruel fate!  The collar's blunt copper studs were ready to painfully zap her throat with punishing and larynx-paralyzing electricity if she so much as hummed through the ball-gag... or tried to scream... or bark.

Enough was enough!

Supposedly, Mandy and Mother were searching for her, but it had been hours and hours with absolutely no sign of her rescuers.  Obviously, they were being methodical, working their way from room to room and floor to floor, which meant the attic would be last on the list!  Gwyn could see through the "ventilation grill" secret view port built into the secret door of her secret cubbyhole/locker, all the way across the attic to the service stairs, and so far... nothing... for hours and hours!

And then... it happened!  A pair of bobbing, Gwen-hooded heads appeared... followed by more and more of the naked bodies of a pair of naked damsels as they climbed the stairs from the second floor!  More and more of Gwyn's rescuers―Oh, please let them be my rescuers!―came into view, and Gwyn blinked in surprise.  She'd been waiting for one rescuer to appear, either Mandy or Mother, but this was both of them at the same time.  Also...

Mother and Mandy were side-by-side, with Gwyn's maternal unit on the left and her newly acknowledged girlfriend on the right.  Also...
So... Gwyn had been expecting exactly one naked, bound, and gagged damsel/rescuer, but now she was being presented with a single double-damsel/rescuer in the form of her naked mother (Yuk!) and naked girlfriend (Yum!), strapped together, hooded (and presumably gagged underneath), and awkwardly making their way across the attic like participants in a perverted three-legged race.  As they came closer, Gwyn realized the black leather shoulders-to-armpits-"X"-straps were the upper straps of a single armbinder that pressed and encased Mother's right arm and Mandy's left arm together behind their backs!  Gwyn had yet to get a detailed look at the binder in question, but she did catch glimpses of it as they approached.

Gwyn also realized the three-legged double-damsel/rescuer was making a direct beeline for her hiding place, which was very good news.  This was thanks to her mother's excellent intuitive sense, of course.  Gwyn had no doubt that as Mother climbed the stairs and the secret view port of Gwyn's secret cubbyhole/locker came into view, all the way across the attic, she would have instantly realized that that would be the place Rada would have stashed her poor, innocent, long-suffering daughter, so Gwyn would be forced to watch in frustrated horror as her rescuers shuffled and hobbled around the attic, checking all the other secret cubbyholes before finally working their way to her secret cubbyhole/locker.  And Mandy, being the clever ginger that she was, would have followed her girlfriend's mother's lead, so here they were, chugging across the attic at full speed (such as it was).

Also, as far as Gwyn could remember, last summer Mandy hadn't spent any "quality time" in any of the attic's secret cubbyholes.  She'd been cubbyhole-stashed a few times on the lower floors, but the only time she'd been sequestered in the attic was in a charming little nook over to Gwyn's right that had a garrett window overlooking the outdoor pool area.  The space featured a vertical wooden post (that was not a structural support), and Gwyn had used it to demonstrate her post-binding skills to her ginger amigo, then abandoned her so she could watch Gwyn take a refreshing, leisurely dip in the pool... followed by a little reading on a lounge chair under the shade of a great big umbrella.  Maybe Rada had stashed Mandy in an attic cubbyhole while Gwyn was busy being stashed elsewhere, but she didn't think so.  Mandy would have mentioned it during the nightly damsel debriefing.  Anyway...

The three-legged double-damsel chugged across the attic... drawing ever closer... and finally arrived.  Having one free hand each, unlatching the secret cubbyhole's secret latch required only minimal fumbling on Mother and Mandy's part.  There was a loud click, and the thick plywood panel swung open.

Mother and Mandy stared at the plethora of taut ropes suspending their darling daughter and hot girlfriend (respectively), gazed at each other, heaved a gagged and hooded commiserative sigh, then set to work.

It turned out Rada had used mostly slip-knots to secure the suspension ropes―so rather that being a complete bitch, she'd been an incomplete bitch.  Still, it took a good chunk of an hour to unsuspend Gwyn, ease her to the attic floor, and untie her Rada-box-tie and ladder-tie bonds.  All of those ropes had been secured with non slip-knots, so they required a great deal of clumsy, difficult, one-handed untying.

While all of this happened, Gwyn confirmed that her rescuers were, indeed, sharing a single armbinder.  As far as Gwyn knew, this was a unique use of a such a ubiquitous hobby accessory, so...  full points to Rada for originality.  Also, while the rescuers were extricating the no-longer-suspended-but-still-totally-rope-bound Gwyn from the locker, there had been a great deal of skin-on-skin contact in the form of clutching, bracing, and sliding, while Mother and Mandy eased her to the floor.  (Yuk and Yum, respectively.)

Eventually, Gwyn was free enough to help remove the rest of Rada's ropes, as well as her ball-gag and obedience collar.  Sitting on the floor with her knees bent and the soles of her feet on the dusty floor, Gwyn stretched her arms and arched her back―"Eyyyah!"―then smiled up at her rescuers.  "Thank you."

Mother and Mandy smiled back... with their eyes, anyway.

Gwyn climbed to her feet, resolved to free her rescuers.

No such luck.

There were mini-padlocks.  Lots of mini-padlocks.  In point of fact, there were exactly the number of mini-padlocks required to make sure Gwyn couldn't unbuckle anything.  Mother and Mandy would remain trapped in their bizarre joined-at-the-hip and armbinder-sharing ensemble until they found and confronted Rada and demanded the key.  Gwyn would have to be the one doing the demanding, of course, as her rescuers were still Gwen-hooded and with mini-padlocked collars buckled around their necks, protecting the hoods' laces and their underlying gags.

Gwyn shook her head, then retrieved a length of black hemp, threaded a loop through the "X" in the straps of the shared armbinder, deftly tied a swivel-hitch with her practiced, nimble fingers, then turned and led her three-legged rescuers/captives towards the attic stairs.

It was entirely proper for Gwyn to take custody of her naked and helpless mother and girlfriend, of course.  As the only non bound and gagged damsel in the vicinity, it was her duty to take charge.

The rest of Gwyn's former rope bonds, as well as the discarded ball-gag and obedience collar, remained behind in a tangled, forlorn heap on the floor in front of the still open door of the secret-cubbyhole/locker.  As far as Gwyn was concerned, Rada would be the one to come back and clean it all up.

The Perils of Penny Parr   Chapter 10

The evening meal was a little awkward, both physically and emotionally.

Gwyn padded into the kitchen with her mother and girlfriend in tow and demanded the key to the mini-padlocks securing the three-legged damsels' black leather bonds.  Rada smiled, shrugged, and stated she wasn't sure exactly where she'd left said key, but would look it as soon as she finished preparing and serving dinner.

Penny was present, buck naked, sitting in a kitchen chair, neither bound nor gagged, and watching with blue, twinkling eyes, as Gwyn, Bethany, and Mandy arrived.  She did her best to disguise her vast amusement as she visually examined every detail of Bethany and Mandy's unusual predicament, but wasn't very successful.

Rada was resplendent in a pair of brown leather Mexican sandals, a pair of faded denim Daisy Dukes, a white tank-top, and a hunter-green cook's apron.  Her attire was surprisingly normal, and she looked really hot.

Gwyn also thought Rada looked hot, but kept her opinion to herself.  She glared at Rada with molten fury.

Penny shared Gwyn's unspoken opinion, but as Rada's innate hotness was a natural constant, clothed or unclothed, the naked little blonde also remained silent.

Bethany and Mandy remained silent on the subject of Rada's smouldering hotness as well, but they had a good excuse.  In fact, they had an excellent excuse: they were hooded and gagged.  Penny and Gwyn pushed a pair of kitchen chairs together and
the Mother/Mandy-double-damsel sighed, planted their pale and freckled naked butts on the chair-seats, and watched Rada cook with the Profound Ennui expected of a pair of chronically distressed damsels.
As Rada's meal preparations continued, Gwyn divided her time between rounding on Rada for her perfidy and pumping Penny for information about how she'd spent Day Three of her hazing.  Both efforts were futile.  Gwyn's Righteous Disdain rolled off Rada like water off the proverbial duck's back, and Penny wasn't talking.  The naked little blonde insisted she was too traumatized to discuss what Rada had done to her, whatever it was.

When Rada's pork-loin roast and the rest of the meal were finally ready, Rada miraculously found the key to Bethany and Mandy's mini-padlocks in her pocket, graciously unlocked the co-joined damsels' collars, then re-pocketed the key.  Gwyn and Penny heaved deep, simultaneous sighs, then removed the damsels' collars, Gwen-hoods, Elastoplast tape-gags, and ball-gags.  They then held glasses of ice-water to Bethany and Mandy's lips so they could quench their post-gag thirsts.

"Well," Gwyn demanded, waving at Mother's and her girlfriend's remaining bonds with an impatient flip of the wrist.

"Eat your dinner, Valp," Rada chuckled.  "All of you..."  She smiled and made a much more graceful gesture of her own at the fully loaded table.  "Eat."

More sighs ensued.  Then, Penny fed Bethany and herself, Gwyn fed Mandy and herself, and Rada fed herself, exclusively.  There was a little dinner conversation, but Penny's Pendulum Ordeal remained a secret between Penny and Rada (for now).

Finally, the last of the food and wine were consumed, Rada slipped the key to Bethany and Mandy's remaining restraints into Gwyn's palm, then started cleaning up the kitchen.

Gwyn and Penny made a joint effort at removing Gwyneth and Mandy's remaining bonds.  Then, the naked quartet thanked Rada for another excellent culinary triumph, wished her good night, and retired to the sauna/massage room.  Actually, Penny, Gwyn, and Mandy muttered various rude things in Rada's direction, received a scolding from Gwyn's mother, and then
thanked the Norwegian Troll for another excellent culinary triumph and wished her good night.  Rada took it all in with good grace and wished them pleasant dreams (ominously).

Once the naked damsels reached the sauna chamber, there was a great deal of sympathetic cooing and examining of Bethany and Mandy's red hips and thighs where they'd rubbed together during their three-legged bondage quest.

Penny participated in the pity party for several seconds (for politeness sake), then announced that she was going to bed.  "I don't need more time in the sauna," she explained, "and I'm kinda tired."

"You really aren't going to tell us what Rada did to you today?" Gwyn demanded.

"Yeah, spill!" Mandy added.

"Girls," Bethany chuckled, then pulled Penny into a naked embrace and kissed her lips (which Penny didn't find at all embarrassing).  "She can tell us in the morning, at breakfast."

"I wanna hear now," Gwyn whined.

"Yeah," Mandy agreed.

"Say good night, ladies," Bethany ordered, releasing Penny.

Good night wishes and kisses were exchanged, Gwyn and Mandy pouted in pendular ignorance, Bethany smiled and waved, and Penny padded upstairs to her bedroom, the infamous Bambi Room, as she'd dubbed it, thanks to the sleeping fawn carved into the bedroom door.  She conducted a leisurely evening toilette in the bedroom suite's luxurious bathroom, then climbed between the gazillion thread-count sheets of the gigantic bed with its gigantic cathedral headboard and twelve not-at-all-creepy carved cherubs.

Without further ado (or any ado, actually) Penny drifted off to sleep.  She was tired.  As it turns out, being tortured by dread and suspense while naked, helpless, and spreadeagled in steel chains under the swinging blade of an elaborate pendulum gizmo for most of a day was an exhausting experience.  Who knew?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ zzzzzzz ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"What?" Penny demanded.  She'd been rudely awakened from deep slumber by several unknown things bouncing on the bed.  Although the only light in the bedroom was coming from a handful of feeble blue-green nightlights at floor level, Penny found her dark-adapted eyes had no trouble making out the "things" in question.  They were (in no particular order): several neat bundles of black-dyed hemp rope of various lengths, a black nylon gym-bag, and Rada Grabhands the Norwegian Troll!

Rada was on her hands and knees on the expansive bed, smiling at Penny.

Still half-tangled in the bedclothes, Penny rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow.  Oh-by-the-way, she was naked... meaning Rada was naked... although Penny was also naked, as all of her clothing had been confiscated some time ago.  The little blonde was also only half-awake, hence her confused and unscheduled train of thought.  Anyway... Rada was naked... like Penny.

"Why are you here?" Penny mumbled as she sleepily eyed the abundance of black rope.  Oddly (for Roget Manor) Rada wasn't using the rope to tie her up.  The smiling Norwegian giantess wasn't even preparing a coil for use.

"Silly Kattunge," Rada chuckled.  "I told you.  It is time for you to demonstrate your rigging skills to Rada... or have you changed your mind about teaching Rada what it is like to be tied up and helpless?"

Now Penny was awake.  She stared at Rada with wide blue eyes for several long seconds... then composed herself... and smiled.

"Oh, I suppose," Penny purred.  "If you insist."

The Perils of Penny Parr   Chapter 10


Chapter 9
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