Pendulum! The Perils of the Penny Parr

   by Van ©2019

Chapter 15

Dramatis Personæ


The Surprisingly Spacious & Luxuriously Appointed "Servant's Quarters" of
Rada Nørgaard

When Rada was assigned to what the Sisterhood's Action Directorate calls a "sleeper posting" in the Western Sector of North America, Bethany had offered her the use one of the mansion's guest bedrooms, but Rada refused.  It wouldn't fit her cover as Bethany's employee.  Instead, Rada moved into the largest apartment in the servant quarters.  It wasn't as spacious as a guestroom, but had the virtue of being only semi-overdecorated in the Gothic style and included a separate office, an attached bath, and a walk-in closet.  Rada's chosen accommodations were far from spartan.

Having put in a hard day's work caring for Mistress Roget, her summer guests, and the pair of short term VIP guests, Rada was reclined on her back on the bed, gloriously nude, her head and shoulders resting against a pile of pillows, and was swiping and tapping her way through screen after screen on a 12.9" iPad-Pro.
She then powered down the iPad and deposited it on a bedside table, stretched, focused on the "artistic installation" in the middle of the room, and her smile widened.  Since Mistress Bethany was busy doing her duty and entertaining Jane, that meant it fell to Rada to entertain the manor's other guest, Frankie.  And in Rada's humble, experienced, and trained opinion, she was doing a superb job.  (Frankie's opinion might differ, but at the moment her ability to express said opinion was limited.)

And speaking of Frankie:


Poor Madison!!!
Madison Young has graciously
volunteered to demonstrate a
simplified version of Frankie's
Predicament with the kind help of
the "nice" folks at








Overall, Frankie's position might be called a Sitting Strappado Predicament with Nipple-Clamp and Toe-Torment.  The thumbs-to-ceiling-to-hair strappado rope prevented her from leaning forward to relieve her stretched nipples and straining toes, while the fishing line prevented her from leaning back in the chair to relieve her scalp and shoulder and back muscles.  Frankie was stuck.  She couldn't so much as twitch without punishing something somewhere.

Penny, Gwyn, and Mandy would be appalled by what Rada was doing to poor Frankie.  This was torture, pure and simple!  Actually, it was what graduates of the Sisterhood's Direct Action Academy would call an "Advanced Endurance Exercise."  In any case, it was something "Sisterhood Brownies" wouldn't and shouldn't try at home.

Oh-by-the-way, Frankie's mouth was plugged by a 2" safety-ball-gag with a black, medical-grade silicon ball (hollow and pierced by a dozen round holes), a black leather strap, and chrome-steel hardware.  This enabled Frankie to breathe through her mouth, if necessary.  It also allowed her to moan and/or whine and/or complain in a less garbled manner than was allowed by a standard ball-gag, and she was doing so; however, the gag-noise had only just started.  It would have been rude for Frankie to interrupt the Norwegian Troll responsible for her condition while said Troll was busy catching up on housekeeping paperwork on her iPad.

The gag also allowed (some might say encouraged) Frankie to drool on her crossed ankles, and she was doing that as well.  Blue eyes glaring at her torturer/playmate, her tan skin glowing (a little), her muscles corded with strain, and strings of saliva dripping down onto her unbound ankles, it was crystal clear that Frankie was not happy.  However, Frankie was impressed.  Rada might be a blond, sadistic dweeb, but she was also a blond, creative dweeb.  Also... "Mrrrf!" ("Ow!")  It hurt!

Rada placed her hands behind her head, crossed her unbound ankles and continued smiling down the length of her incredible nude body at her playmate/fellow operative/victim.  "Tell me, Frankie." she inquired, "have you ever heard of the 'six-point-leg-lift?'  Hmmm?"

Frankie didn't answer.  She'd stopped moaning, whining, and growling, but her blue eyes were continuing to send exotic, wickedly curved visual daggers in Rada's direction.

"I'll take that as a no," Rada purred.  "Not surprising, seeing as you're still a newbie.  The Six Point is a game for Seasoned Operatives."

Just get on with it! Frankie silently fumed.

Rada withdrew her right hand from behind her head and used her own naked body as a visual aid, pointing at various parts of her gorgeous anatomy.  "Nipples... labia... toes."  She wiggled the big toes in question.  "Those are the six points in question, all clamped or tied and linked by a taut web of lightweight, braided wire.  A series of pulleys are involved, and the pattern is very complicated.  A veritable three dimensional matrix.  A cat's cradle on steroids.  Understand?"

I suppose, Frankie glowered.

"Anyway," Rada continued, "the 'player' is tied on a hard surface in any of a variety of positions; however, she must be able to lift her legs.  In my particular case, I was box-tied, stretched out full-length on my back on a bondage table, and my legs were ladder-tied from thighs to ankles.  My heels were resting on a wooden block, my big toes tied, my labia and nipples clamped, and everything linked into the wire web.  The tension was adjusted until everything was nice and taut... then the block was removed."

Frankie paused her glaring marathon to blink in sympathetic distress.  Wow!

"I had no choice but to maintain an endless leg-lift," Rada sighed.  "My heels were hovering only about five centimeters above the table... but the distance didn't matter.  My poor toes were being tugged and my pussy-lips and nipples stretched.  Lowering my legs five millimeters was out of the question."

Poor Madison's
                abs!!! Madison Young has also graciously volunteered to demonstrate a greatly simplified four-point version of Rada's Six-point Predicament, again, with the kind help of the "nice" folks at
Thanks Maddie!  😍

Wow! Frankie mentally reiterated, and watched with great interest as Rada gracefully rolled off the bed and padded in her direction.

Rada leaned close and whispered in Frankie's right ear.  "A possibility to look forward to during a future refresher training session at the Academy."  She then reached for Frankie's right nipple-clamp and―


Rada had released the right clamp!  The tension of the fishing-line cat's cradle instantly melted.

"Mrrrf!" Frankie complained.  She was outraged by the lack of warning, not the pain caused by the removal of the clamp.  Rada released the left nipple clamp... and this time Frankie didn't even flinch.  After all, she was a trained Operative.  She sat perfectly still as Rada untied the hair end of her thumbs-to-ceiling-to-hair-strappado rope... untied her thumbs... then strolled back to the bed, swinging her hips in a blatantly seductive (but innate and therefore involuntary) manner, then resumed her former reclined position against the piled pillows.

Frankie released a gagged groan (and a generous dollop of saliva), then sat upright in the chair, carefully unfolded her legs, gingerly planted her bare feet on the carpeted floor, and stood.  Her wrists and elbows were still bound behind her back with hemp, her feet now loosely hobbled toe-to-toe by the fishing-line (and its now loosely dangling and forlornly empty nipple-clamps), and her mouth plugged by her drool-friendly safety-ball-gag, but that beat the holy heck out of her former predicament.  Still staring daggers, she gingerly shuffled towards Rada and the bed.

"Over here," Rada purred, patting the mattress at her right side.

Frankie completed her hobbled, more-irritating-than-painful, nude, bound, gagged, and humiliating journey, planted her bare rump on the huge mattress, then squirmed and wiggled her way to Rada's side, as ordered.

Rada planted a welcoming kiss on Frankie's shining forehead, then pulled the naked, beautiful captive into a snuggling embrace.

"Mrrrf!" Frankie complained.

"What is it?" Rada purred.


Rada grinned, reached behind Frankie's head, released her ball-gag, and re-secured the buckle on the strap's first hole.

Frankie worked her jaw, pushed with her tongue, and forced the dripping, ventilated ball from her mouth.  It flopped to her chest and her drool-inducing ball-gag was now a saliva-glistening necklace.

Meanwhile, Rada had retrieved an insulated cup from the left nightstand, popped its lid, and was now holding it close to Frankie's pouting lips.  "Ice water," she purred.

Frankie graciously accepted three sips from the cup... and was polite enough to refrain from spitting in Rada's smiling face.

Rada returned the cup to the nightstand, then took Frankie's now gag-free head in her hands and planted a long, wet kiss on her pouting lips.

Frankie returned the kiss.  One could argue she had no choice, being naked and tied up.  Also, Rada was naked and beautiful.  So... she might as well.

Finally, Rada came up for air.  "Well?"

Frankie glowered at her fellow Operative and licked her lips.  "Well what?"

"Did I not tell you I would make your visit to Sister Bethany's estate memorable?"

Frankie couldn't help but let a sly smile curl her lips.  "Rada Norgaard lived up to her reputation as a vicious bitch.  That's hardly surprising."

Rada chuckled, then gave Frankie's right nipple a languid lick.  "Let's talk about your mentor's mission."

Frankie shivered as Rada licked her left nipple.  "What's to talk about?  Jane wanted to meet Penny Parr for herself."

"Such a cute little charmer," Rada asked.  "Don't you agree?"

Frankie lifted an eyebrow.  "You mean Jane?" she drawled.

Rada favored her bed-mate with a wry smile.  "Sister Penny, of course."

"They don't come any cuter," Frankie conceded, "and I think Sally's right.  The Sisterhood needs to keep an eye on Penny Parr, at the very least."

Rada kissed Frankie's lips, again.  "Better yet, make my little Kattunge an asset, although I suspect that might be more difficult a task than the Council believes."

"You don't think Bethany is up to the job of being Penny's mentor?"

Rada shook her head.  "Sister Bethany is as good as we've got, but I believe Penny Parr is a wildcard, a trickster.  In the long term... she may surprise us all."

Frankie rested her head on Rada's shoulder.  "For the good?"

"Probably," Rada sighed, "almost certainly.  But it may be a wild ride before we reach the climax."

Frankie sighed and closed her eyes.

"And speaking of climaxes, Blue-Eyes," Rada purred, "don't go to sleep just yet.  You must repay Rada for educating and entertaining you with such a delicious predicament."

"Either that or I should kick your butt," Frankie huffed.

"Why do you think you're still tied up?" Rada purred.  "Also, Rada could kick your butt if Rada was the one with her wrists and elbows tied behind her back."

Frankie sighed, again.  That was probably true.  Rada had a lot more field experience, as well as more advanced training from the Academy.  She lifted herself from Rada's side, scooted down the bed, rolled over Rada's right leg, and flopped onto her stomach.  Her hostess' tan, strong thighs, tan, sculpted abdomen, glistening pussy, and neatly trimmed, dark-blond pubic bush were now inches from her pouting lips.  (And Frankie was pouting not from reluctance, but because Reluctant Defiance was expected of a Brave Damsel being forced to pleasure her Vile Captor.)  She locked eyes with her grinning fellow Operative, licked her lips, than gave Rada's pussy a slow, wet, preliminary lick.

Rada closed her eyes and shivered in appreciation.  Frankie smiled, then proceeded to give the statuesque Norwegian beauty the tongue lashing she so richly deserved.

The Perils of Penny Parr   Chapter 15

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"Huh?"  Penny snapped awake to find Gwyn sitting on her right and Mandy on her left.  Gwyn was using a small brass key to unlock and release the right manacle of her Secretary-yoke.  "What are you..."  Penny didn't complete the question.  She was finally awake enough to achieve a firm grasp on the obvious.  "Oh."  Gwyn was now unlocking the yoke's collar.

"I'm Luke Skywalker," Mandy said with a smile as she accepted the key from Gwyn.  "I'm here to rescue you."  She giggled.  "I really like that line."

"I guess that makes me General Kenobi," Gwyn purred, rolling her eyes.

"Actually," Mandy said brightly, "you're Chewbacca."

"Bwrrrolrrr!" Gwyn growled, giving her best wookie imitation.

Penny's rescuers had already unlocked the yoke from the chains tethering Penny to the bed, and, with many a clink and clatter, the chains slithered to the floor.  Mandy tossed the yoke to the side and Penny was now nude but totally free of any form of bondage.  Her rescuers, on the other hand, were naked, free of their former serving chains, but still locked in their shining steel and leather-lined chastity belts.

Penny stifled a yawn, then blinked at her chums.  "What's happenin'?"

"You're welcome," Gwyn smirked.

"Rada unlocked our slave chains," Mandy explained, "then gave us this key―"  She waved the key in question, then set it on the left nightstand.  "―and ordered us to sneak in here and release you."

Penny stole a glance at Mandy's chastity belt, then focused on her ginger-haired rescuer's smiling face.

"Wrong key," Gwyn sighed.  "We already tried.  It only unlocks the secondary panel so we can tinkle, which we did.  Apparently, Rada wants to make sure all us 'youngsters,' as she put it, get a few hours of unencumbered sleep, but that doesn't extend to the un-girding of our loins."

"The un-girding of our loins," Mandy giggled.  "How very biblical."

"Shut up," Gwyn ordered (with a smile).  "Anyway... welcome to The Sisterhood."

"Uh, thanks," Penny responded, "I think."

Gwyn and Mandy snuggled against Penny's right and left sides (respectively), then planted kisses on her right and left cheeks (respectively).

"Is there a secret handshake I need to know about?" Penny muttered.

"Not that I'm aware of," Gwyn chuckled.

"There isn't even a secret decoder ring," Mandy sighed.  "I was devastated."

"There is me, of course," a disembodied voice announced.

Penny blinked in surprise, then turned her head from Gwyn to Mandy.  "Sigourney Weaver?"

"Oh, that's right," Gwyn said, rolled away, reached to the right nightstand, then rolled back holding an iPhone.  "Rada also ordered us to give you back your phone."
Penny frowned in confusion as Gwyn handed her the iPhone in question.  Not only had the no longer confiscated device turned itself on, but it was displaying, unbidden, a color photograph―No, color video!―of a smiling Sigourney Weaver!"

"That's not Sigourney Weaver," Mandy chuckled.

"It's Sally," Gwyn added, "aka Sister Sally, aka Sally Salamandras, aka Snoopy Sally."

"Salamandras?" Penny inquired.

"The computer security company," Gwyn clarified.  "Their code-monkeys did the work."

"Sally is an avatar," Mandy explained, "the simulated human interface of the artificial intelligence that ties all the Sisterhood's computer systems together."

"Hello, Penny," Sally purred, beaming Sigourney Weaver's beautiful, intriguing smile.

Penny was still blinking in mild confusion.  "Uh... Sigourney Weaver?"

Gwyn, Mandy, and Sally laughed.

"The way I heard it," Gwyn explained, "they 'borrowed' Ms. Weaver's motion capture data from the studio that made the first Avatar movie."

"It was a close thing," Sally said.  "You could be talking to a Zoe Saldata avatar right now.  Anyway, we settled on Sigourney.  And as it turns out, she doesn't mind a bit.  Sister Siggy has told me on more than one occasion that she's very flattered I insisted on borrowing her voice, face, and body.  I really like Siggy.  She's a hoot."

"Sigourney Weaver is a Sister?" Penny inquired, "meaning a Sisterhood Sister?  I thought we aren't allowed to discuss which celebrities are Sisters?"

"We aren't," Sally chuckled, "but outing Sister Siggy is the exception that proves the rule.  I've found it's best to get ahead of the issue.  It avoids confusion.  What if you got a phone call from the wetware version of Sigourney Weaver?  How would you know it was her... and not me?  And the real Siggy is very much a member of the non-kinky branches of the Sisterhood, by the way, so if you ever do get to meet her, don't expect her to tie you up or let you tie her up."

Penny nodded.  "Uh, I wouldn't think of it.  So, are you on everybody's phone?  By which I mean all the Sisters' phones, of course."

"Of course," Sally answered.  "You'll find me on your Contacts list as 'Sally,' and I can stand in for Siri if you say 'Hey Sally.'  My ringtone is the first few bars of Long Tall Sally."

Penny nodded.  "I see.  So... you're also on Gwyn and Mandy's phones... as well as Taylor Swift's."

"Nice try," Sally laughed.  "I can neither confirm nor deny that Taylor Swift is a Sister."

Rats!  Penny looked from Gwyn to Mandy, again.  "Sally can answer all my questions about The Sisterhood?"

Gwyn nodded.  "She can, but only on a need-to-know basis."

"I suppose that's reasonable," Penny sighed.  "I'll start working on a list of questions."  She heaved another cavernous yawn.  "Later."

Gwyn and Mandy exchanged a knowing smile, then planted kisses on Penny's cheeks, again.

"Stop," Penny complained, gently pushing away her friend's smiling faces.

"Goodnight, Sister Penny," Gwyn purred.

"Goodnight, Sister Penny," Mandy added.

"Yeah, yeah, goodnight," Penny responded, then kissed Gwyn's pale cheek... followed by Mandy's freckled cheek.  Being a Grumpy Kattunge had its place, but Gwyn and Mandy were her Sisters and BFFs.  "Goodnight, Sally," she added.

"Goodnight," Sally purred, and the screen of Penny's iPhone went dark.

Penny handed the iPhone to Gwyn, who returned it to the nightstand, then all three "youngsters" squirmed, snuggled together, and closed their eyes.

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

The Perils of Penny Parr   Chapter 15

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"Huh?  What?  Hey!  You guys!  No!"  Penny had been roused from a sound sleep to find the first light of dawn shining through the tall windows of The Bambi Room.  And oh-by-the-way, Gwyn and Mandy were working in nefarious concert to tie her up with black, conditioned hemp rope!  "Stop it, you rats!"  She kicked and squirmed and tried to resist, but retaining her freedom was already a lost cause.  Before she'd been even half awake, her bed-mates had flipped her onto her stomach, wrenched her arms behind her back, and lashed her wrists together.  Also, her supposed friends were more-or-less sitting on her!  "Let.  Me.  Go!"

"No can do, kiddo," Gwyn purred.

"It's Day Four of your hazing," Mandy noted, "remember?"

"Oh, c'mon!" Penny complained.  "Yesterday was Day Four!"

"Yesterday doesn't count," Gwyn purred.  "Your hazing was on hold 'cause Jane and Frankie were here.  Once they leave... Day Four."

"That's so unfair!" Penny pouted.  "Also... we're Sisters!  And I've been hazed enough!"

"That's up to Mother to decide," Gwyn purred as she continued binding her blond friend.  With Mandy's manhandling help, she hauled Penny up onto her rump and began wrapping rope around her upper arms and torso.

"We'll take your side when you argue your case," Mandy reassured Penny.  "We talked about it and agree completely.  You have been hazed enough... for now... almost."

"Said the ginger freak helping her Wednesday-Addams-wannabe girlfriend tie me up," Penny huffed.  She'd stopped resisting and settled into her best Disappointed Pout.  Resistance was, indeed, futile.

Gwyn's rigging efforts coalesced into a standard box-tie, specifically, the "sadistic version," with Penny's forearms pulled up past the horizontal and her crossed wrists lashed against her spine, just below her shoulder blades.

"That's enough for now," Gwyn announced.

Mandy nodded in agreement.  "Bathroom."

"Some friends you are," Penny complained as she was hustled off the bed, into the bathroom, suffered the indignity of having her butt planted on the commode, and was "forced" to empty her bladder.  This was followed by the humiliation of having her crotch cleaned, face scrubbed, and teeth brushed.  Penny's hair remained in a tight, single braid (like Gwyn and Mandy's), so no fussing with brushes and combs was required.

After her tooth brushing, Penny spat into the sink (rather than either of her alleged friends' smugly smiling faces), but made her attitude quite clear.  Penny's blue eyes flashed and shifted, slightly, into Profound Betrayal/Righteously Indignant Pout #1, another expression she'd spent time perfecting in front of the mirror.

Gwyn and Mandy were unmoved.  They neither released Poor Penny from their Cruel Bondage, nor did they express Sincere Contrition for their Traitorous Betrayals.

Penny stood to the side and sullenly watched as her captors completed their morning toilettes.  Gwyn and Mandy's chastity belts complicated matters a little, but as they'd mentioned earlier, the key Rada had lent the two rats so they could unlock Penny's Secretary-yoke also fit the locks securing the secondary, outer panels of their chastity-belts.

How does Rada keep track of what key fits what lock? Penny wondered.  There must be a hierarchy of interchangeability of all various the locks and keys.  Master keys, series master keys, individual keys, etc.  How does she keep track?  I don't see color codes or engraved labels or anything.  They all look the same to me.

Penny noted that both of her involuntarily chaste friends carefully re-locked their secondary panels once they finished tinkling and after cleaning their steel-clad nether-regions.  That was entirely understandable, as far as Penny was concerned.  She wouldn't want Rada to catch her wearing only half a chastity belt.  At the moment, Gwyn and Mandy seemed to be enjoying some sort of trustee status, but they knew not to push their luck (and, therefore, had voluntarily locked up their own pussies).

Bathroom business complete, Gwyn and Mandy took hold of Penny's arms and hustled her from The Bambi Room and down the hall to Gwyn's bedroom.  Once there, Penny and Mandy watched as Gwyn dressed in a pair of jeans, a bra, and a tank-top, all in Goth Black.

Next, they relocated to Mandy's guest bedroom.  There, Mandy dressed in stonewashed denim-blue jeans, a white bra, and a light-plum tank-top.

Penny remained silent throughout.  She also remained naked, box-tied, and pouting.

Gwyn and Mandy grabbed Penny's arms, again, and led her into the hallway... down the Grand Staircase... past three or four of the first floor sitting rooms... and into the kitchen.

There, they were greeted by the aromas of coffee, cooked bacon, and various other breakfast-appropriate, yummy stuff.  Penny's stomach rumbled.  Bethany, Jane, Frankie, and Rada were present, and they interrupted their conversations, coffee drinking, and cooking duties (respectively) to give good-morning wishes and plant kisses on the new arrivals.

Bethany was wearing yet another very pretty sundress Penny had never seen before, Jane and Frankie the same dresses as yesterday, and Rada her same ol' Senior Servant Uniform.  Once again, Penny was the only clothing deprived damsel present.

Frankie filled a mug with coffee and smiled while she held it for Penny to take a careful sip.  The taller, older brunette locked eyes with the shorter, younger, box-tied blonde, then led Penny to the seat next to her own.  Obviously, Frankie was taking it on herself to be Penny's breakfast-buddy by resuming the task of feeding Penny.

The breakfast main course was some sort of egg, peppers, cheese, onions, bacon, and sausage frittata.  In Penny's inexperienced opinion, it was "ethnic," with a mix of spices and peppers that were either Hispanic or Middle Eastern... or maybe something else.  In any case, the yummy concoction Frankie was carefully shoveling into Penny's mouth was delicious.

Bethany was the perfect hostess, smiling and chatting with her guests (including her "secretly" chastity-belted daughter―the "secretly" chastity-belted Mandy―and the naked and box-tied Penny).  Jane and Frankie also did their part to entertain the youngsters.  Rada served the frittata, sat at the table, and also engaged in conversation.

Penny learned nothing new about The Sisterhood.  In fact, The Sisterhood never came up, and Penny decided not to broach the topic herself.  She could pump Gwyn and Mandy (and Sally) for more info later.  Also, it was prudent to be a Gracious Guest and not embarrass and/or irritate Bethany with Jane and Frankie present.  After all, it was the start of Day Four of Penny's five-day hazing ritual.

Breakfast over, Rada enlisted Gwyn and Mandy to help clean the kitchen and Sally announced that Jane and Frankie's departure was imminent.  Apparently, their transportation was on final approach with an ETA of five minutes.  Penny thought this was a rather peculiar way to describe the arrival of a taxi or them climbing back into their rental car, but maybe that was the way the artificially intelligent avatars of secret organizations talk about such things.  What did Penny know?  Naked and box-tied, she sat in her chair, watched her fellow Junior Sisters work, and perfected her Grumpy Kattunge persona.

Jane, smiling broadly (and beautifully), leaned close and kissed Penny's forehead.  "Don't worry, Sister Parr," she purred, "everything is going to be just fine.  Sister Bethany will take care of you, and the first letter from your cousin will arrive before you know it."

Bethany kissed Penny's forehead as well.  "I will take care of you, darling," she promised, "like you were my own daughter."

Gwyn paused in the act of loading the diswasher and snorted in disgust.  "So, you're gonna order Rada to lock her in steel panties for no good reason?" she muttered.

Everyone laughed, except for for Gwyn and Penny, who shared a sisterly smile.

A melodious chime sounded and Sally's/Siggy Weaver's disembodied voice announced, "It's time."

Gwyn and Mandy resumed their duties as Penny's escorts by grabbing her arms, hauling her to her feet, and―"Hey!"―leading her after the others and through the manor.  Penny assumed they'd be heading towards either the Grand Entryway or the garage, but instead, she was dragged (led) to the indoor pool area.

A pair of obviously expensive and probably designer label leather duffel-bags were waiting next to the French doors leading out onto the expansive backyard.  Obviously, Jane and Frankie had packed before breakfast (or Rada had done it for them).  In any case... here they were... staring out at the outside pool and the lawn beyond.
Sisterhood transport
Suddenly, Penny became aware of the sound of a whining engine... and watched through the glass as a modernistic airplane swooped over the trees, settled into a hover, deployed its landing gear, then settled down onto a small, round, paved area on the far side of the pool!

"Wow!" Penny gasped, blinking and staring at the new arrival.  The craft was sleek and wicked cool!  There were no obvious machine gun, missile, or laser beam pods, but it looked dangerous, and was painted a uniform gray with no visible markings.  Penny assumed there were the required "N###" painted on the tail or fuselage or somewhere, but its nose was towards the manor and the viewing angle was wrong.  However, there was nothing wrong with Jane and Frankie's apparent ride!  It was something out of a SciFi movie.  Penny was impressed.

"Wow!" Gwyn and Mandy agreed in unison.  Obviously, they were also impressed, staring slack-jawed at the new arrival.

As the super-plane's turbines whined down to a surprisingly quiet idle, Penny shrugged off Gwyn and Mandy's gripping hands and scampered forward to stand next to Jane.  "The Sisterhood has an Air Force?" she demanded.

Jane, Frankie, Bethany, and Rada laughed.

"Not exactly, Sister Penny," Jane purred, "but we do own a number of aircraft, and on occasion are invited to help test developmental prototypes."  She kissed Penny's lips, then picked up her bag.  "Goodbye for now, Sister Penny.  Until we meet again."

"Uh, yeah," Penny responded, her eyes still fixed on the aircraft.

The usual flurry of goodbye hugs and kisses continued, during which Penny endured one last predatory smile from Frankie.  Apparently, the blue-eyed beauty really had enjoyed taking care of Penny during her brief visit.  Then, the elderly residents and youthful vacationers of Spooky Roget Manor watched as Jane and Frankie strolled across the lawn to the aircraft, waved one last time, then climbed up the back ramp, disappeared into the interior, and the ramp lifted.

There was a brief pause... the whine of the aircraft's engines rose in crescendo (although the noise was still surprisingly quiet), then the technological wonder lifted off the ground, hovered, its landing gear folded, it spun 180°, then climbed and sped away, quickly disappearing behind the tops of the trees.

"Well... that happened," Penny said quietly.

Bethany gently grasped Penny's chin, tilted her head back, and smiled into the blinking blonde's puzzled face.  "Jane was right," Bethany sighed.  "You are developing freckles, you adorable little thing."

"Huh?" Penny inquired, continuing to blink.  "I don't like freckles."  She shifted her eyes to Mandy.  "No offense.  I mean my freckles."

"None taken," Mandy purred.  Mandy, Gwyn, and Rada were all watching (and grinning.)

"Anyway," Bethany purred.  "We'll have to work on those."

"Do we have to?" Penny whined.

"Now, in celebration of your becoming our fellow Sister," Bethany continued (ignoring Penny's last question), "I've decided to waive the final day of your Vacation Hazing."

"Finally," Penny huffed under her breath, then her blue eyes widened and the blinking returned.  "I mean, thanks!  Thank you very much!"  She leaned forward and kissed Bethany's smiling lips.

"You're welcome, dear," Bethany responded.

Penny turned to Rada.  "So, I get untied, right?"  She squirmed in her box-tie bonds for emphasis.

"Silly Kattunge," Rada chuckled.  "The final day of your hazing would have been tomorrow.  Today is today."

Penny heaved a sigh of tragic proportions.  "It was worth a try," she muttered.

Rada pointed to Gwyn, Mandy, and Bethany.  "You, you, and you.  Exercise."  She smiled at Penny.  "You.  Come with me."  And with that, she turned and strolled away.

Instead of following the Norwegian Troll, as ordered, Penny whispered to the others.  "If we all work together, we can―Ow!  Ow!  Ow!"  Rada had returned, taken a firm grip on Penny's left earlobe, and was dragging her away.  "Rada!"

Penny assumed Rada was dragging her back to the kitchen, then would drag her down to the basement, then down to the dungeons to start of her final day of hazing.

"Rats," the naked, bound, pathetic little blonde huffed.

The Perils of Penny Parr   Chapter 15


Chapter 14
¢ Chapter 16