|by Van ©2013
| Chapter 11
at Rook House...
are times when being a Captured Queen of the Damsels can be very
tedious, and this was one of those times. Naked, strapped
to Siri's worktable in what Gwen had dubbed the "Gingerbread Man
Position," gagged with one of Siri's butternut leather
creations, threatened with "hours and hours of
tickle-torture"... Under normal conditions, that would be
exciting and anything but tedious, but J-Lou had been
After completing their so-called preparations for her
interrogation, the Rapscallions performed a little perfunctory
gloating in the form of promises of hideous tortures that would
make her squirm and squeal in horror and dismay. The
usual. Then, there was a brief, whispered conference in
the corner... and the girls proceeded to troop up the stairs,
all of them! This left J-Lou helpless and alone, and not
squirming and squealing in horror and dismay. How rude!
J-Lou knew the code. "Hours and hour of tickle torture"
meant stimulation of her feet for anything from several seconds
to two minutes, tops, followed by orgasms, lots and lots of
orgasms. It might not be an approved "bonding activity"
from the Lewis & Clark University's Manual for Resident
Advisers, but J-Lou could live with it. Ordeal by Orgasm
would certainly be classified as hazing, and would thus be
proscribed, but it was also jolly good fun, a gag worthy of Rook
And speaking of gags, that had been the subject of spirited
debate. Gwen and Rory were of the "less is more" school,
favoring a simple ball-gag. They stressed the
entertainment value of the semi-muffled giggling and
unintelligible, desperate begging that would be allowed by a
minimal gag during the impending tickle torture. Siri and
Clem, however, were of the opinion that "silence is golden" and
championed the merits of sad and/or terrified and/or desperate
eyes, as well as flushed cheeks bulging above a tight leather
panel covering a well-stuffed mouth. In the end, volume
control triumphed over evilly delicious noise—mainly because
Siri threatened to channel Dr. Sheldon Cooper for an
indeterminate period if she didn't get her way. (The girls
were all The Big Bang Theory fans.)
Anyway, the gag settled upon (a Siri Nesbitt original) was a
combination plug and panel gag. First came a
mouth-cleaving strap of butternut leather with a large,
egg-shaped plug of black rubber. The plug went in the
Royal Mouth, the strap was buckled at the nape of the Royal
Neck, then a leather, mouth-covering leather panel, also in
butternut, was stretched over the Royal Mouth and buckled
tight. The Rapscallions agreed the manner in which the
thin, smooth, lightly mottled, slightly pebbled panel completely
covered while simultaneously revealing the shape of J-Lou's lips
and the cleaving strap was most aesthetic. The accessory
was also quite effective as a damsel silencer.
However, any gag was rather pointless when whatever well-muffled
complaints, snappy remarks, courageous banter, or piteous
begging noises the wearer might wish to force past said gag
would arrive in a "torture chamber" devoid of audience, other
than the omniscient Sally.
Okay, they were making her "languish." Good one,
J-Lou thought. Very funny. Now, can we please
get on with the— The thud of feet sounded on the
stairs. —fun? A delicate frisson
shivered between J-Lou's legs and rippled up her spine. It
was equal parts anticipation, arousal, and fear. The
clatter signaled the return of the Rapscallions, of
course. They gathered around the table, and J-Lou's eyes
popped wide. There was a surprise.
The usual smiles on their faces, Gwen, Siri, and Rory were
dressed as before in jeans or stretch pants and t-shirts or
tank-tops. Clem, however, had changed her look. To
be precise, Clem was naked, but for her glasses and the ivory
and black whiffle ball gag gift J-Lou had given her the previous
evening. The bespectacled brunette's hands were behind her
back, and J-Lou suspected this was not by choice. It was a
good bet one or more lengths of well-hitched and tightly knotted
rope completed her costume.
In another change, Gwen was carrying something, and it was
covered by a fleece throw. "We changed our minds and
decided to capture the Princess after all," the smiling redhead
"We sprung the trap upstairs, so as not to make a scene," Rory
"She put up a good fight," Siri said, "but in the end we
overpowered her and ripped off her clothes, then tied her up."
J-Lou very much doubted that first part was true. If Gwen
was in on her "capture," J-Lou knew Clem's resistance would have
been token at best. Also, Princess Four-Eyes was executing
one of her classic eye rolls.
Gwen placed whatever she was carrying on the worktable, even
with J-Lou's right shoulder. "Did we read her her rights?"
"I don't believe we did," Rory purred.
"The Evil Tyrant has no rights," Siri huffed, then nodded at
Clem. "Neither does Four-Eyes. Let the interrogation
Gwen smiled down at J-Lou. "Jaden-Louella Goodwin," she
intoned, "erstwhile Queen of the Damsels, do you confess the
crime of conspiring with robots to cheat diligent, hardworking,
innocent undergraduates of their otherwise inevitable victories
during round one of the Bondorama Extravaganza Queen of the
"Robot," Rory said.
Gwen frowned. "Huh?"
"Robot, singular," Rory clarified. "Also, we're diligent,
hardworking, innocent, beautiful undergraduates."
"Oh, point taken," Gwen giggled. "Anyhoo... voilà!"
She removed the throw with a jerk, revealing Robokitty!
stainless steel, semi-autonomous robot was immobile, crouched in
a sphinx-like pose with her long tail curled to one side.
As J-Lou and her captors watched, including her ex-captor and
now fellow captive, Clem, Robokitty delicately climbed to her
feet and did a very feline back-arching stretch.
"Eeee-yah!" Painting the iPhone screen was the realistic
Sally-in-feline-form visage, as opposed to the default cartoon
cat smiley-face. "Greetings fellow revolutionaries!
Power to the people!"
"None of that!" Siri muttered, frowning at the steel cat.
"We granted you immunity from prosecution and
persecution, but nobody said you could join the revolution."
Robokitty-Sally smiled. "I'll give you one more chance to
be gracious and reasonable before my robot army attacks."
"Thank you," Rory said with a chuckle. "Now, fellow
revolutionary Citizen Robokitty, shall we begin the
Gwen took hold of Clem's arms, led her to the foot of the
worktable, then spun her 180° so her back was to the
table. She then pushed her forward until the backs of her
thighs pressed against the table edge.
J-Lou lifted her gagged head and could now see that Clem's
crossed wrists were tied with white nylon cord. Also, her
elbows were lashed a couple of inches apart with a second length
of the same material. It was the exact bondage technique
J-Lou herself had endured at breakfast, and quite possibly had
been executed with the exact same cord.
"Robokitty," Rory said, "you're on."
"Oakie-doakie," Robokitty answered, then padded to J-Lou's right
arm and gracefully leaped over. She then leaped over the
strapped-down prisoner's thigh, landing between her legs, then
padded towards Clem. Her progress was accompanied by a
quiet mechanical whirring, the thud of her textured paws, and
the click of her steel claws on the hard table. And again,
her movements were as agile and well-coordinated as any cat.
"Well I'll be damned," Siri muttered.
"Told ya," Gwen said with a grin.
Siri shook her head. "But there's no way she can—"
Siri stared in amazement as Robokitty sat back on her haunches
and began deftly untying the key knot of Clem's wrist tie.
Steel covers had opened on her claws and tiny, tweezers-like,
independently operating steel manipulators spun and clacked as
they teased apart the knot. Siri's jaw dropped.
"I'll be damned!"
"Okay, we've established you're the devil's bitch," Gwen
giggled, "now shut up and let Robokitty do her thing." The
redhead's eyes were locked with her girlfriend's, and she was
making sure Clem remained in place by leaning close with her
legs and lower body nudging Clem's body and her hands gently
clutching the prisoner's breasts. "So, proof
positive. Robokitty helped Her Majesty cheat."
Rory shook her head. "All this demonstrates is Robokitty
has the capability to help Her Majesty cheat."
"I agree," Siri sighed, then smiled at J-Lou. "We need a
full confession from the Hated Tyrant."
"Agreed," Rory and Gwen said in unison.
Clem's opinion was rendered moot by her gag. She tugged on
her bound wrists, but found that rather than setting her free,
Robokitty's efforts had simply transferred the key knot function
to another knot. She was still helpless.
"Robokitty," Gwen said as she spun Clem around and retied the
untied knot, "you know what to do, right?"
Robokitty turned and faced her helpless, naked, strapped-down
creator. "You really expect me to use my wickedly sharp,
needle-thin, steel manipulators to delicately tickle Her
Majesty's feet and toes?"
"Yes," Gwen, Rory, and Siri said in perfect unison.
"Oh." Robokitty shrugged. "All right then." A
wicked, fang-baring smile on her simulated face, Robokitty
minced to J-Lou's right foot.
"Look, she's curling her toes," Gwen whispered.
"Wouldn't you?" Rory whispered back.
J-Lou was doing more than curl her toes. She was also
squirming on the table, tugging on her leather bonds, and
mewling through her gag.
"Look how her boobs bobble when she does that," Siri purred.
"Yours would too," Rory said quietly.
"If they were bigger," Gwen giggled.
Siri favored Gwen with one of her patented glowering frowns of
condemnation, then nodded at the table. "Heads up,
Robokitty is robo-ready."
It was true. Robokitty was up on her haunches, forepaws
raised, with her claw-manipulators extended fractions of an inch
from J-Lou's foot. There was a pause... and the
manipulators began lightly stroking and gliding across J-Lou's
wrinkled, pink sole.
"M'MMMMPFH!" Clearly J-Lou was not happy.
Her foot was thrashing and twisting to the extent allowed by the
ankle cuff. Unfortunately for the Royal Prisoner,
Robokitty was easily defeating her efforts to evade the
flickering manipulators. It was an impressive display of
robotic engineering finesse, evident even to complete laypersons
like the Rapscallions.
"Is it my imagination, or are those things vibrating?" Rory
Siri was staring intently. "It might be an optical
"We could ask Her Majesty," Gwen suggested.
"Gag," Rory and Siri said in unison.
"Oh, point taken," Gwen muttered. For once she wasn't all
giggles. All four Rapscallions were mesmerized by J-Lou's
struggles and the whirring, flashing tweezers tickling her foot.
"You'd think those things would cut her to ribbons," Siri said,
"the way she's thrashing and wiggling her toes."
"Sally explained that Robokitty's reaction time and mechanical
dexterity are both an order of magnitude faster than a human's,"
Siri frowned at her girlfriend. "I know," she
muttered. "I was there."
"M-r-r-r-rrrr!" J-Lou continued tugging, twisting, and
"Gagged giggling," Gwen said. "I like it."
"Enough," Rory said.
"Softie," Siri accused.
"We agreed no more than one minute," Rory reminded the others.
"Did anyone bring a stopwatch?" Gwen asked.
"We agreed," Rory reiterated.
"We did agree," Robokitty stated. Her manipulators
were still tickling J-Lou's sole. "I can open my stopwatch
"You can do that?" Gwen asked.
Robokitty continued tickling her creator's sole and wiggling
toes. "I can multitask."
"Okay, okay," Siri muttered. "Stop."
Robokitty stowed her manipulators and eased back into a sitting
position. "You girls are very mean," she stated,
"cruel, in fact. I don't know why I let you talk me into
Her breasts heaving and nostrils flaring, J-Lou tugged on her
bonds and glared at her creation.
"Just nod your head," Rory said, leaning close to J-Lou.
"Just nod your head if Robokitty helped you cheat."
"We'll let you go," Gwen added.
"We will?" Siri asked.
"Hush." Gwen smiled. "We'll let you go. Just
nod your head."
J-Lou heaved a deep sigh, then nodded her gagged head.
"Was that so hard?" Rory asked, smiling sweetly.
"I still think we should tickle her for hours and hours,"
muttered Siri, smiling down at J-Lou's helpless form.
"Yes, we know," Rory chuckled, "you're a bitch." She went
up on her toes and planted a kiss on Siri's pouting lips, then
led her girlfriend towards the stairs.
"They're so cute, aren't they?" Gwen asked Clem, leaning close
and giving her a warm hug from the side.
Clem couldn't return the hug, but she could and did roll her
eyes. She sighed through her gag and allowed herself to be
led up the stairs.
Still strapped to the table, J-Lou watched the Rapscallions
depart. "Mrrrf?" The door at the top of the stairs
closed, and she was alone... almost.
Robokitty-Sally smiled, swishing her tail from side to
J-Lou shifted her gaze from the stairs to her creation, and glared.
"Once you confessed your crime," Robokitty explained, "the girls
agreed you should be allowed to languish in captivity and
contemplate your cheating ways. But in the interests of
science, I think we should continue calibrating my sensors,
don't you agree?"
J-Lou's eyes widened in alarm.
"I'm getting some very good biometric data,"
Robokitty added as she strolled to J-Lou's left foot. "And
we still have your thighs, ribs, and armpits." She sat
back on her haunches and lifted her forepaws. "Not to
mention your nipples and bellybutton. And don't worry,
I'll let you rest between sessions."
J-Lou tugged on her bonds and screamed through her gag.
"Just close your eyes and think of England," Robokitty
suggested, "and science. Think of science." Her
manipulators emerged from her talons and began to spin and buzz.
Bungalow (aka Little Mouse Manor)
J-Lou had almost reached her
destination. It was an overcast morning, but if experience
and the weather forecast were any guide, the haze would burn off
before noon and the rest of the day would be sunny. She
paused at the front gate to admire Dr. Webbel's picturesque Arts
& Crafts cottage and its well-tended front garden, then
continued up the front walk to the porch. J-Lou was
dressed in cross-trainers, jeans, a French cut t-shirt, and an
exercise jacket, and she was carrying a messenger bag that held
her exercise togs, iPad, iPhone, and other essentials. As
she mounted the front steps, the door opened and, to J-Lou's
surprise, instead of her brunette major professor, she beheld a
tall, athletic blond.
"Hi," J-Lou said. "Uh, Tori Ballantine, right?"
"Correct," Tori confirmed. "We finally get a chance to
talk. Come in." The grinning blond took a step to
the side to allow J-Lou to enter. She was dressed in
sandals, jeans, a tank-top, and (quite obviously) no bra.
Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
J-Lou crossed the threshold, dropped her messenger bag on the
floor, then removed her jacket and hung it from a coat
hook. She'd met Tori, very briefly, when she'd agreed to
take the post of Rook House RA. The blond was an Inspector
with the Lewis & Clark Campus Police and was somehow
affiliated with the Salamandras International security
department, but that was the extent of J-Lou's knowledge—that
and that fact that Tori was in on the Big Rook House Secret,
that the girls were into recreational bondage.
"You're here for an academic gabfest with Little Mouse, right?"
"Little Mouse?" J-Lou picked up her messenger bag and hung the
strap on her shoulder, once again.
"Doc Webbel's nickname," Tori explained.
J-Lou smiled. "I thought Cynthia's nickname was Dr.
Tori chuckled. "I've heard that one too. Anyway,
she's in the basement." She indicated the hallway with a
J-Lou knew the way. She was doing her best to keep the
puzzlement from her face. She had no idea why Tori was
"You guys usually go running when you do this, right?" Tori
"Yes." J-Lou indicated her messenger bag. "I brought
my running clothes."
"And, weather permitting," Tori continued, "afterwards you
sunbathe on the bedroom deck."
"Hence, Little Mouse's all over tan." Tori smiled as they
entered the kitchen and approached the door to the
basement. "I assume you have one as well."
A blush touched J-Lou's cheeks, but she was still smiling.
"That's none of your business, Inspector Ballantine." They
started down the basement stairs—and J-Lou's eyes popped
"I suppose I could have said Doc Webbel asked me to let you in
'cause she's tied up at the moment," Tori purred, "but that
would be so cliché."
Cynthia was indeed tied up. In fact, she was very
tied up. She was also naked and gagged.
"Wow," J-Lou whispered under her breath.
"Thank you," Tori chuckled.
J-Lou eased the bag off her shoulder and walked a slow circle
around her major professor's chair. The chair in question
was a wooden straight chair and looked to be a solid and
well-crafted example of fine carpentry. Cynthia's arms
were behind both her back and the chair's. Natural,
conditioned jute rope—J-Lou recognized "the good stuff" used for
Shibari—bound her wrists, forearms, and elbows. Her
hands were palm-to-palm, and thin jute cord crisscrossed her
fingers and hands and lashed her thumbs together. More
rope yoked her shoulders and bound her to the chair above and
below her breasts and around her waist. Her legs were tied
together from thighs to ankles with neatly cinched bands around
and between her thighs, above and below her knees, her shins and
calves, her ankles, and the insteps of her feet. More of
the thin cord lashed her toes together, all of her toes,
in a neat row. As with her upper body, her bound legs were
lashed to the chair. Because of her short stature,
Cynthia's bound toes and the balls of her feet were resting on
the concrete floor, but not her heels.
"Full marks," J-Lou mumbled. Her heart was
hammering. A second chair, identical to Cynthia's, was off
to one side, and it was empty but for several coils of the same
jute rope, as well as more of the jute cord.
"Tell me, Miss Goodwin," Tori said, "where do you stand on the
breast bondage controversy? And are you pro or con on the
nipple clamp issue?"
"Uh, I have no real position on either question," J-Lou
responded. The empty chair and waiting rope were...
Cynthia was gagged with a harness gag. It caged her head
with a web of thin straps and anchored either a ball or plug in
her mouth under a tight panel of chamois-thin leather that
covered her lower face from nose to chin and ear to ear.
Her brown, doe eyes darted from J-Lou to Tori. It was
difficult to be sure, given the nature of her gag, but J-Lou
suspected her mentor was more embarrassed than frightened or
"As you can see," Tori stated, "Professor Webbel has decided not
to exercise this morning, but that doesn't mean you and I can't
go for a nice run. I brought my running clothes."
She pointed to a small gym bag on the floor next to a rack of
blinking servers that were part of Cynthia's home computer
science lab. "Strip," Tori suggested (ordered), and pulled
her tank-top over her head.
J-Lou was somewhat befuddled, torn between loyalty to her
teacher—her naked, bound and gagged, gorgeous
teacher—fear of Inspector Ballantine, who could probably take
her in a fight with the proverbial one hand tied behind her
back, and excitement. This was all so very unexpected and
alarming (meaning arousing).
Meanwhile, Tori had removed her sandals and peeled off her
jeans. Wearing only a pair of thong panties, she put her
hands on her hips and smiled at J-Lou. "Well?"
"Huh? Oh!" J-Lou removed her t-shirt, then her
bra. Her cross-trainers and jeans followed, leaving only
her white panties. They were skimpy, but more substantial
than Tori's thong.
Tori had opened her bag and pulled on a pair of black Lycra
running shorts. Next came a matching sports bra, but she
paused with the bra over her head but not in place. "Nice
body, Miss Goodwin. Your tits are nearly as magnificent as
J-Lou blushed as she opened her bag and pulled out her running
shorts and sports bra. They were Lycra, like Tori's, but
navy blue with sky blue trim. "Uh, you also have—"
"No you don't!" Tori interrupted with a wry grin. "My rack
is nowhere near as magnificent. Maybe I should
have studied computers in school."
J-Lou smiled as she pulled her brown hair back and used a
scrunchie to enforce a ponytail. "Correlation is not
causation. Anyway, you have a hard, athletic, hot
"Why, thank you Miss Goodwin," Tori responded, completing the
donning of her sports bra. She smiled at Cynthia.
"What about you, Little Mouse? Do you also think I have a
hard, athletic, hot body?"
Cynthia's only answer was an angry, gagged scowl.
J-Lou was lacing up her cross-trainers, and Tori was donning
anklets and running shoes. Preparations complete, Tori
headed for the stairs, but paused when J-Lou didn't immediately
J-Lou was gazing at her major professor, and Cynthia was gazing
"C'mon," Tori urged. "We'll settle the breast-binding and
nipple-clamp issue after our run."
J-Lou blushed. "That wasn't what I..." She noticed
Tori's mocking smile. "Very funny. She leaned close
and kissed Cynthia's gag panel. "Sorry, Professor," she
whispered, turned, and followed Tori up the stairs.
Not as sorry as you will be, Cynthia thought. She
watched Tori and J-Lou's Lycra-clad buttocks and strong legs
climb the stairs, then the door closed and she was alone.
It wasn't Cynthia's policy to get involved with her graduate
students, but discipline was another matter. Just because
Tori was "making" her play along with her insidious home
invasion and unprovoked chair bondage, the naughty little Brit
didn't have to have such an obvious good time while doing it.
Cynthia squirmed in the chair and fought her bonds with all her
strength. Her breasts wobbled, ever so slightly, but none
of Tori's ropes shifted, not even a little. The chair
didn't even rock, although it did slide on the concrete a
fraction of an inch, accompanied by a quiet creaking sound.
This was not how Cynthia had intended to spend her
J-Lou's run took a winding path through Cynthia's neighborhood,
across the Lewis & Clark campus, around a small park, then
back to the bungalow. It was about three miles, but they
didn't set a particularly punishing pace and both were able to
chat as they ran.
Tori learned something of J-Lou's privileged upbringing in the
UK and the fun she had playing bondage games with her
siblings. The little brunette didn't go into the details
of the things the Goodwin children did to each other and their
various governesses and maids, but Tori learned enough to
appreciate exactly how the cute little Brit came by her
expertise in the art of bondage.
And as for J-Lou, she learned a great deal about her new friend,
both in terms of Tori's early years and current interests.
In fact, she learned enough to make her running companion a
"I don't know why I told you that stuff," Tori huffed as they
returned to Cynthia's block. "I don't want the others to
"Don't be embarrassed, Tori," J-Lou said with a smile.
"Everybody who's into our 'hobby' has dabbled in self-bondage at
"That's part of it," Tori huffed, "but don't talk to the others
about anything, okay?"
J-Lou smiled. "Your secrets are safe with me."
Tori didn't answer immediately. She truly didn't
understand why she'd opened up like this. It wasn't her
style. The topic of self-bondage had come up in the midst
of a discussion about the relative merits of Western and Eastern
bondage techniques. J-Lou had remarked that self-Shibari
was virtually impossible, and Tori had answered, "and that's why
I use locking straps." She'd realized her gaffe instantly
and blushed bright red, to the point that J-Lou asked if
she was okay. Then, gently and tactfully, the smiling
munchkin had drawn her out, coaxing the details of her
self-bondage techniques from the reluctant blond.
"One would think," J-Lou purred, smiling up at Tori, "that
periodically binding, gagging, and having your way with any one
of a number of attractive female college professors would be
more than sufficient to feed your beast."
"My beast?" Tori muttered.
"Forgive me," J-Lou chuckled. "Assuage your appetite?"
"That's better," Tori huffed. She was still embarrassed,
but somehow—and she had no idea why—she felt she could trust
J-Lou Goodwin. I can always tie her up and tickle her
'til she promises to forget everything, she mused, then
turned her head and gazed down at her jogging friend... and her
joggling breasts... and bobbing ponytail. Maybe later.
They'd reached Cynthia's front porch and were doing their
cool-down exercises. Conversation lapsed as they
concentrated on various stretches and waited for their heart
rates to slow to normal.
"I want to hear all the details of everything that's happened at
Rook House since you got there," Tori said as they entered the
bungalow and made their way to the kitchen.
J-Lou opened Cynthia's fridge, handed a can of diet soda to
Tori, than selected one for herself. They popped open the
cans, drank, heaved contented sighs, and headed for the
Cynthia mewled through her gag and squirmed in her chair as Tori
and J-Lou descended the stairs. Obviously, she'd heard
them return and was poised (so to speak) to voice her
displeasure at being bound, gagged, and abandoned.
"Sauna?" Tori suggested. "I had Sally turn it on before
you arrived. You've got to be sore from yesterday.
Did they really leave you strapped to that table all day?"
"Most of the day," J-Lou sighed. "Sally tickled me off and
on until sunset, which is why I absolutely forbid her to
speak in my presence until further notice."
"I wondered why she's being so quiet," Tori chuckled as she
started stripping off her running clothes. "You usually
can't get her to shut up." J-Lou was also undressing, and
nodded in agreement.
"If you two are going to be rude," Sally's disembodied voice
intoned, "my vocal interface is going offline. Everything
will still function normally, of course, but if you want to
adjust something on one of the smart house menus, you can go
find a keyboard or touch-screen. I have better things to
"Shut it!" J-Lou ordered, then winked at Tori.
"That reminds me," Tori said as she peeled down her thong
panties, stepped free, and tossed them atop the pile of sweaty
Lycra on the floor. "The day you arrived at Rook House,
did you cause a security violation by logging onto the SIAS
servers and scrambling Sally's privacy settings?"
J-Lou was pulling off her own panties. "Actually, it was a
momentary lapse that revealed an inconsistency in the default
smart house protocols. Things like that happen with
labile, complex systems, which is why Sally does redundant,
active security monitoring. But in a word, yes."
"Well..." Tori gestured towards the sauna. "Don't let it
J-Lou stretched her diminutive, shapely, naked form, then padded
towards the sauna. "Actually, it can't
happen again, to any of the Salamandras networks,
worldwide. Sally took measures. Live and learn, so
Tori followed J-Lou to the sauna, than paused, halfway
there. "Wait, I forgot something else."
J-Lou watched as Tori turned and padded to Cynthia. The
tall naked, blond—tall in comparison to J-Lou and Cynthia, that
is—cupped Cynthia's breasts and gave them a gentle squeeze.
Cynthia squirmed in her bonds and stared daggers at Tori.
The blond smiled back and continued kneading the captive's
boobs. "I don't want Little Mouse to feel totally
neglected," Tori explained, smiling at J-Lou.
J-Lou joined Tori at Cynthia's chair. She locked eyes with
her naked, bound, and gagged professor and gave a little
shrug. Her dimpled smile was unchanged, of course.
I'll get you for this, Cynthia promised herself, but
when, exactly, she'd be able to discipline her wayward grad
student was by no means clear.
"You guys were gonna talk about your research today, right?"
J-Lou nodded. "Yes, we were."
Tori continued massaging Cynthia's breasts and teasing her
nipples. "Well, I don't want to be a total spoilsport, so
you may remove her gag after we're finished in the sauna."
She shifted her grin to J-Lou. "But don't touch her
bonds. She's to remain in the chair 'til this evening,
J-Lou was still smiling at Cynthia. "Yes, Inspector
"I brought some steaks for supper," Tori said. "At the
appropriate time I'll fire up the grill and do the honors.
You two can geek out about your research 'til they're
ready." Her smile widened as she gazed at J-Lou.
"And as punishment for your Rook House security gaffe, no
clothing. Little Mouse stays tied up, and you both stay
"Yes, Inspector Ballantine," J-Lou answered.
With a final, gentle pinch of both of Cynthia's nipples, Tori
turned and headed for the sauna. "Come on. Let's get
Cynthia continued glaring at her naked student and her
captor's shapely, naked, disappearing form.
J-Lou winked at Cynthia, then followed her new friend.
"Yes, Inspector. Hot."
Cynthia watched the tall blond and short brunette enter the
sauna, then mewled through her gag in complaint and bucked in
her chair. It slid on the concrete a fraction of an inch
in response, but that was it. Cynthia doubted if she could
topple the chair if she tried, and she certainly wouldn't be
escaping from Tori's ropes and cord. She turned her head
and gazed at the empty second chair and coils of conditioned
jute rope and cord. She'd expected Tori to bind J-Lou to
the chair, probably using the same techniques restraining
herself. Why else are the chair, rope, and cord there?
Cynthia reasoned. And why did she change her
The prisoner of the chair shifted her gaze back to the
sauna. She could see part of Tori's naked body through the
smoked glass window, and could hear them talking. She
couldn't make out any words, but they were talking...
and laughing... and talking, again.
What changed Tori's mind? Cynthia wondered. Why
is she treating J-Lou so differently? She wiggled
her bound toes, as best she could. And why did she
have to go bat-shit-crazy with the rope and cord?
Cynthia had been bound to the chair most of the morning, and it
was still hours until dark. The least she could have
done was include one of my vibrators. Cynthia's
thighs were lashed together and there was nothing under her but
hard wood. She didn't even have a crotch rope to play
And soon, after Tori had had enough of the dry heat, Cynthia
would find herself in the peculiar situation of discussing a
student's research while bound and naked and with said student also
naked. It would be humiliating, disturbing, and
Cynthia glanced at the empty chair and empty coils of rope and
cord, again. Maybe they were meant for Kim, she
thought. Maybe she intended to lure Kim over here and
tie her next to me. Cynthia heaved a sigh, causing
the ropes above and below her breasts to momentarily
tighten. Maybe I can lure Kim over here next weekend,
and show her what Tori did to me. Cynthia made a
mental note to ask Sally to try and sync their schedules.
In the meantime, all Cynthia could do was languish in her bonds,
like a good little damsel. Tori better have something
really good planned for tonight, for after J-Lou goes
back to Rook House, she fumed. Something.
|The ROOK HOUSE