Robin was in
a bad way. She was stringently, cruelly hogtied
with her fingers, hands, and arms folded behind her back,
encased in nylon stockings, and mummified with a zillion
miles of silver-gray duct-tape. Okay, she was
mummified with most of a roll of silver-gray
duct-tape... or a good chunk of a roll. Robin wasn't sure,
but it was a lot of tape. Her ankles were still
locked in steel shackles and the hobble-chain was a part of the
hogtie, together with the hemp ropes binding her torso in a
harness and frog-tying her folded legs! Last but far from
least, Robin's hair was braided, wrapped, bound with rope, then
tied to her big toes! It lifted her chin and added her
ball-gagged head to the hogtie! It was horrible!
Horrible! Also cruel, evil, and totally unnecessary!
Poor Robin had been enduring this tortuous contortion for...
for... minutes! Minutes! Multiple blocks of 60
Also, Robin felt she'd deserved a good cry and had indulged
herself. That is, after the dungeon door squealed shut and
she was abandoned to her Cruel Fate, bitter tears had dripped
down her cheeks and splashed the canvas cover of the sleeping
pad. The Helpless Damsel wept and whimpered and
inarticulately (as she was gagged) bemoaned her Undeserved Fate
A low level pussy-thrill was complicating the issue, but mainly
Robin was reveling in her helplessness. The situation
was... complicated... like almost everything else that had
happened in the last few days.
Enough moping, Robin decided, and began squirming,
twisting, and exploring her stringent condition in earnest.
Ow! My friggin' toes! My scalp! Moping
isn't so bad. What's wrong with moping? Robin
"relaxed" in her bonds and heaved a gagged sigh.
Surprisingly (begrudgingly), she was forced to admit that if she
refrained from struggling, the hogtie wasn't that punishing...
for now. Later, she knew things would be different.
Even her habit of regular exercise and the occasional yoga
session wouldn't be enough to keep the Cramp Monster at bay.
Saliva dripped from her ball-gagged mouth and joined the tears
that had formed a small wet spot on the pad.
How long? Robin wondered. How long is she
gonna leave me like this? It's torture! Genuine
torture! (Or will be.)
As if on cue, her question was answered by the sound of the
steel door's bolt being thrown back. Thunk! The
door opened—Eeeeee!—and the "she" in question, the
perpetrator of Robin's outrageous hogtie predicament, stepped
into the dungeon alcove.
"Oh, my poor, brave Cupcake," Miriam sighed as she
unlocked and opened—Eeeeee!—the barred gate and stepped
into the dungeon proper.
Robin was facing both the door and gate and her ball-gagged and
hair-bound head was involuntarily upturned, so she had a perfect
view of Miriam. The Wicked Witch/Mistress was wearing the
same pretty printed dress as before and she was smiling (as
Miriam stepped from Robin's field of view, sat on the pad and
folded her legs to the side, then started fiddling with the rope
linking Robin's big toes to her bundled hair.
What now? Robin though... then heaved a gagged, relieved
sigh as the rope went slack. She's untying me,
Robin realized as Miriam continued teasing apart knots and
releasing cinches and hitches. The hogtie melted away...
followed by the frog-tie ropes... followed by the
torso-harness... followed by the hair-tie-rope.
Robin eased herself into a prone position, straightened her
legs, then rolled onto her side and gazed up at her...
rescuer? Robin was still ball-gagged, shackled, her arms
mummified in a nylon-tape-box-tie, and her neck locked in a
steel cable-collar that tethered her to the dungeon wall, but
progress was progress. What now? Robin thought
again, then watched as Miriam reached down the front of her
dress, produced a key on a light chain and pulled it over her
head. Her Wicked Witch/Mistress then tossed her head to
straighten her hair, leaned forward, and unlocked the modified
padlock securing the collar! Yes! Miriam
coiled the hemp ropes, closed and locked the now empty collar
and placed it on the pad, then stood and strolled through the
open gate, the open dungeon door, and into the basement.
Still reclined on her side on the sleeping-pad, Robin lifted her
ball-gagged head and watched as Miriam stooped and returned the
rope to the canvas shopping bag from which it had come, then
tossed the bag aside. She then clicked off the light in
the dungeon, took several steps towards the basement stairs...
then turned and smiled.
"Are you coming, Cupcake?"
Robin blinked a few times, then heaved herself to her shackled
feet and clinked, clanked, and shuffled from the dungeon,
following Miriam across the basement. Miriam remained in
the lead as they climbed the stairs and entered the
kitchen. Robin clinked past, Miriam closed the basement
door (apparently to keep Robin from fleeing back to the safety
of her dungeon cell), then strolled to the kitchen table and
pulled back a chair. Robin took the hint, shuffled over,
and eased her naked butt onto the seat. She watched as
Miriam stepped to the refrigerator and opened the door.
Robin was overjoyed to be above ground, but...
"I know, I know," Miriam chuckled as she closed the refrigerator
door. A can of Sprite was in her hand. "Hold your
Robin watched (with great interest) as Miriam filled a tall
glass with ice at the dispenser on the refrigerator door, popped
the top on the Sprite can, poured the contents into the glass,
added a straw, and carried the glass to the table. She
then parted Robin's hair, unbuckled the ball-gag and re-secured
it on the strap's first hole, then gently pulled the rubber
sphere from Robin's mouth. Robin licked her lips and
worked her jaw. "Thank you," she said in a near whisper,
then leaned close to the table, captured the end of the straw
with her lips, and sucked. Yum! Lemony-Limey
"You're welcome, Cupcake," Miriam purred. She was smiling,
of course, and continued smiling as Robin sucked down half the
clear, bubbling, liquid contents of the glass.
Her thirst quenched, Robin sat up straight, locked eyes with her
hostess (the Witch/Mistress), and licked her lips.
"Well," Miriam said after a few seconds, "I'm glad that's
Huh? Over? Robin was still bound, shackled,
and with a ball-gag necklace dangling around her neck and ready
"You survived 'advanced languishing' with flying colors," Miriam
purred, "and we can cross it off our list."
I wouldn't say 'flying colors,' exactly, Robin sighed,
then blinked, again. Wait, list? What list?
She leaned to the side and took another sip of Sprite, then
voiced her question. "What list?"
"Our list of cruel things a dastardly villain might do to a
captive damsel, of course," Miriam chuckled.
"When did we make a list?" Robin demanded.
Miriam grinned. "I made it for you, Cupcake, taking
advantage of my superior experience."
Robin favored the list-maker with an even stare. "Much
appreciated," she said dryly.
"Sarcasm doesn't become you, darling," Miriam chuckled, then
rose from her chair, leaned down, and kissed Robin on top of her
pouting head. "You wouldn't want to make your kidnapper
angry, would you?"
Robin smirked and rolled her eyes. "No," she sighed,
"wouldn't wanna do that."
Miriam chuckled, strolled to her kitchen pantry, and opened the
door. "I'm making chicken corn chowder for dinner," she
announced, "with mixed salad and fresh baked bread."
"Sounds yummy," Robin purred, "seeing as how I missed
lunch." She had no idea why she wasn't demanding her
immediate release and the cessation of all
experimentation. Part of it was relief at no longer being
subjected to "advanced languishing" in the form of Miriam's
punishing hogtie, but only a part. Truth be told, she
liked Miriam, and so far everything the Wicked Witch/Mistress
had done to her had been invigorating (in a horrible,
despicable, scandalous sort of way). Also, as a
certified "Brave Cupcake," she couldn't quit now. But
no more super-tight-hogties, Robin resolved. I'll
put my foot down... my shackled, chain-hobbled foot.
| Chapter 12
It turned out
that by "making" chicken corn chowder the Wicked Witch/Mistress
had meant opening two cans of Campbell's CHUNKY Chicken Corn
Chowder and heating the contents on the stove; however, the
bread was freshly baked and, except for the olives and
cheese, the salad makings were fresh from her garden. The
meal was delicious—and the fact that Robin had, indeed, missed
lunch due to being incarcerated in Miriam's dungeon only made it
Robin watched as Miriam cleaned up the kitchen, still sitting in
the same chair she'd occupied while her hostess/captor prepared
the meal, set the table, and fed Robin and herself. Of
course, Robin would have been more than willing to help, but she
had the perfect excuse: bondage.
Finally, Miriam dried her hands, turned, and smiled at Robin.
Robin mustered her best Brave but Pathetic Pout. "Let me
guess. Back to the dungeon?"
Miriam stood beside the chair and combed her fingers through
Robin's hair, smiling down at her upturned face. "Do you want
to go back to the dungeon?" she purred.
"Not particularly," Robin muttered.
"Well then..." Miriam leaned down and kissed Robin's
lips. "Let's go someplace else." She lifted Robin
from the chair, draped an arm over her shoulders, and led her
from the kitchen.
Robin "allowed" herself to be led through the house to the guest
bathroom. She also allowed her hostess to brush her teeth
for her, scrub her pouting face, then plant her on the commode
so she could take a tinkle. Afterwards, she also allowed
Miriam to clean up her nether region with a warm, damp
washcloth. She'd experienced a tiny little pussy-thrill
back in the kitchen when Miriam kissed her lips, and the
washcloth her beautiful, smiling, mature kidnapper was sliding
between her legs had caused the thrill to return.
Robin recognized what was happening as the standard bedtime
routine, so when it was finally over she expected to be led down
the hallway and up the stairs to the tower guestroom, perhaps to
be collared and chained and incarcerated for the night.
Instead, Miriam led her to what had to be the master bedroom—Gulp!—which,
in this case, was the Wicked Witch/Mistress bedroom!
The space was larger that the tower guestroom, the bed was
king-size, and through an open door Robin could see a
bathroom. No surprise there. Every master bedroom
suite has a master bath. She still didn't know what she
was doing here, of course. Miriam led her to the bed and
encouraged her to recline. "Hey!" That is, Miriam
gave her a shove just forceful enough for Robin to lose her
balance and flop down onto the neatly made bed. She rolled
onto her side and glared at her hostess. "All you
had to do was ask," she huffed, then watched with interest as
Miriam knelt at the head of the bed. There was a rattling
noise—what by this time was a familiar rattling
noise—and Miriam lifted a steel-cable-collar with an attached
chain into view.
Robin watched (pouting and biting her lower lip) as Miriam
pulled the key on the chain from under her dress and unlocked
the collar's modified padlock. "How many of those things
did your husband buy for you," she muttered.
"Actually," Miriam purred as she fit the collar around Robin's
neck and clicked the padlock back into its housing, "I think he
bought them for himself."
"But you were the one wearing them, right?"
Miriam smiled, leaned close, and kissed Robin's lips.
"There are three," she said quietly, her eyes locked with Robin,
"and now you've worn each and every one of them." She
lifted the chain and gave it a shake. It rattled and
clinked in response. "This is long enough for you to reach
the bathroom, if you feel the need during the night." She
dropped the chain and walked towards a closed door. "But
for now, Cupcake, stay on the bed."
Robin watched as Miriam opened the door and stepped into what
was apparently a walk-in closet. Did she just say
'during the night?' Where's she gonna sleep?
That was a silly question, of course. Robin knew the
answer. She's gonna sleep here. (The thrill
rippled between Robin's shackled legs, again.) It is
a big bed, the captive conceded. Miriam was just
inside the closet door, so Robin was catching occasional
glimpses of her arms, legs, and rump as she removed her
sandals... and then her dress. Robin couldn't see much,
just enough to follow what was happening. Miriam was
disrobing for bed. Gulp! There was a brief
pause... then Miriam left the closet, padded into the
bathroom, and closed the door behind her.
Robin swallowed with an audible "Gulp!" and her eyes popped
wide. Miriam had been COMPLETELY NAKED!! Except
for a STEEL CHASTITY BELT!!
Holy crap! Robin blinked in amazement. Miriam
had only been visible for a few seconds, but it was easily
enough time for the prisoner-of-the-bed to confirm that the
Wicked Witch/Mistress of Cedar Wind Farm was fit, curvaceous,
hot, and with minimal sag, despite her mature,
senior-discount-qualifying status! And as for the chastity
belt... it was a chastity belt! Other than the glint of
polished steel, that was the only detail Robin was able to
Chastity belt? Chastity belt? Why is Miriam
wearing a chastity belt?
Robin heard the sound of water running. Apparently, Miriam
was taking a shower... before bed... before joining Robin in
bed... wearing a chastity belt!
|| Chapter 12
her time in the shower. She'd reached the crucial stage of
The Robin Experiment. And by experiment, Miriam
meant her experiment, not Robin's
what's-it-like-to-be-a-prisoner experiment. Based on long
conversations with her daughter and the Swan (Leda), it was
abundantly obvious (to Jordan and her mother) that while Leda
carried a blazing torch for her BFF, and while she was
a brave and impetuous young lady, Leda would never take
the first step. She was chicken. A brave, impetuous
chicken. And now that she'd met Robin in person, Miriam
knew that they were two of a kind. They loved each other,
but neither would take the first step.
That was unacceptable, and it was Miriam's duty to fix it.
And by "fix it" she meant get the BFFs' feelings for each out in
the open—under just the right circumstances—and let
nature take its course. Maybe Leda and Robin would become
a couple, maybe not, but one thing was for certain: a pair of
delightful and delicious young hotties like Swan and Cupcake was
a terrible thing to waste.
The task at hand (so to speak) was making sure the hotties in
question were in the proper mood when they were brought back
together. Both roommates had to be, to put it delicately,
horny as hell when things came to a head (so to speak),
and with no easy outlet for their mutual "problem" other than
each other. It would take careful handling. At the
moment, Miriam couldn't do much about Leda. The Swan was
in Jordan's loving hands. Robin, however, was another
Miriam smiled as she used a soapy washcloth to scrub herself
clean. Careful handling, she mused.
Miriam scrubbed her breasts... abdomen... buttocks... her
steel-encased pussy... the rest of her... then gave herself a
slow, through rinse. A dab of shampoo and a thorough
scrubbing cleaned her hair. She rinsed again... then
turned off the shower.
Next came towel-drying her body, blow-drying her hair, brushing
her teeth, emptying her bladder (and cleaning up afterwards),
then placing a tiny dab of perfume behind each ear and between
her breasts. She gave her hair a final comb and brush...
then smiled in the mirror.
It was showtime.
|| Chapter 12
various auditory clues that had made their way from the master
bathroom and through the closed door, Robin was able to follow
the progress of Miriam's evening toilette. Her heart was
pounding, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide, mouth dry, and her
breath was coming in pants. Also, her nipples were
standing at attention and the thrill between her legs
was now a low grade purr. Robin was frightened,
but not really. She was also aroused, but not
really. She didn't know exactly what the hell she
was, other than not relaxed. Robin was anything but
Finally, all was quiet on the other side of the bathroom
door. Several very long seconds passed... What's
she doing now? Then, finally, the door opened and
Miriam reappeared. And she was still naked! And she
was still wearing the chastity belt! And Robin was still
naked, tape-bound, shackled, collared, and helpless!
Smiling—Does she ever not smile? Robin
wondered—Miriam padded to the bed, paused to execute a
full-body, back-arching stretch, then reclined next to her
captive guest. "Urgf!" Robin croaked, then swallowed and
tried again. "W-what's with the belt?" she inquired.
Lying on her side, Miriam gracefully stroked the front panel of
the belt in question. "This ol' thing?" she chuckled, then
leaned forward and whispered in Robin's ear. "Just
something I threw on. Delayed gratification."
Robin blinked (and blushed). "Huh?"
"Our experiment is all about you, Cupcake," Miriam
purred. "I think you agree that with my pussy locked away
like this, I can't be... selfish."
Robin was still blinking, and her blush had intensified.
"I... I don't understand."
"You will, Cupcake," Miriam chuckled, "once I figure it out
"What?" Robin demanded.
"Never mind." Miriam snuggled close to her captive and
rolled Robin onto her side until they were in a front-to-back
embrace. That is, Miriam's boobs and thighs were pressed
against Robin's bound arms and legs, and "Cupcake's" butt was
pressed against Miriam's steel-clad crotch.
"Miriam!" Robin whined. She was squirming and wiggling,
but not really trying to escape from Miriam's hug.
"What do you think Leda is doing right now?" Miriam whispered in
"When Leda and my daughter go on one of their backpacking
trips," Miriam continued, "the Swan always returns with angry
red marks on her wrists. That can only mean one thing:
they continue the games they play when Leda helps Jordan test
her various metalworking projects—or, when Leda visits the farm,
what they do in the barn when they think I'm not paying
"You know about the stuff at work?" Robin whispered back.
They play kinky games here, too? she wondered. I
suppose that shouldn't be a surprise. Also...
'Swan.' Why didn't I think of that?
"Yes, Cupcake," Miriam chuckled. "I know about the stuff
at work." Her left arm was now reaching around Robin's
squirming body and her left hand was cupping Robin's left
breast. Meanwhile, her right hand was sliding up and down
across Robin's flat tummy. "Don't be jealous.
They're only playing. It's you the Swan loves."
"Jealous?" Robin demanded (whined). Why should I
be... You mean Leda?"
"I don't mean my daughter," Miriam chuckled, then kissed Robin's
right ear. "Leda loves you, Cupcake."
"I..." Robin shivered in her bonds and Miriam's
embrace. "L-love?" Miriam's hand had moved south,
and now was including Robin's neatly trimmed pubic bush in its
light, teasing caress.
"When you reach my advanced age," Miriam purred, "you'll be
better able to sense such things. But you already know
Leda loves you, don't you Cupcake? And you love her."
"I... Oh!" Miriam's finger was nudging her
clitoris! "Miriam!" Robin shivered in... distress?
"Let's play a game," Miriam announced, then released her
embrace, popped the ball-gag into Robin's totally unprepared
mouth, parted her hair, and tightened and secured the buckle.
The embrace resumed, as did Miriam's massage, only now the hand
not kneading Robin's breast was concentrating on her pussy and
"Mrrrrr!" It was a whining whimper of pathetic despair...
or maybe encouragement.
"Here's the game," Miriam whispered. "You think about what
Leda and my Pumpkin are doing right now..." The massage
continued. "And when they get back tomorrow, the two of
you can compare notes." Her left hand squeezed Robin's
left breast. "And just to make things interesting, I'll do
my best to distract you. You think, and I'll
distract. Doesn't that sound like fun, Cupcake?"
Robin shivered and squirmed. Her heart was still pounding
and now her eyes were squeezed tightly closed. "Mrrrrr!"
she moaned through her gag.
"Is that a yes?" Miriam inquired.
Robin continued squirming, wiggling, and shivering.
"Mrrrrr!" she moaned, once again.
"That was definitely a yes," Miriam chuckled, and began
frigging Robin's pussy in earnest.
"Yes, Cupcake," Miriam purred. "I know."
|| Chapter 12
sleep. Something like an hour had passed since the final
time Miriam had manually persuaded her to cum like the
proverbial bunny—the proverbial naked, bound, gagged, and sweaty
bunny. Yes, it was something like an hour since the last
of three separate bouts of finger-diddling had caused Robin to
writhe in orgasm. After the third diddle, Miriam had given
her a goodnight kiss, released her embrace, rolled onto her
side, and (apparently) drifted off to sleep. The kiss,
Robin thought, staring into the darkness. There had been a
lot of kisses, all one sided, as Robin was gagged.
There was also neck-licking, nipple-teasing, and
nipple-nibbling. Miriam's lips and tongue had been busy,
as had her hands, with boob-and-butt-squeezing, tummy-stroking,
and thigh-caressing, but mainly with pussy-diddling.
As for carrying out her part of the game, thinking about what
Leda and Jordan might be doing out in the howling wilderness,
Robin had failed in spectacular fashion. The only things
her fevered brain could process were not hypothetical.
All Robin could think about were the things Miriam the mature,
experienced, naked, chastity-belt-wearing Wicked Witch/Mistress
was doing to her.
But now... Robin was making up for lost time. However,
rather than contemplating Leda, Jordan, and the implied kinky
boinking activities that might be happening in the forest at
this very moment, all Robin could think about was... Leda
loves me? Miriam had said it, and Miriam was a
mature, experienced, naked, chastity-belted Wicked
Witch/Mistress... so it must be true. Leda loves me...
and I love Leda.
At some point in their long history as BFFs, Robin's amused
affection for her bubbly, mischievous, sexy friend had become
love... of some category. The problem was, what if the
feeling wasn't mutual? What if Leda only liked her
in return? A profession of love on Robin's part might
chase her away. At the very least, it would be
embarrassing in the extreme. It would be world class
mortification. There was no way Robin was gonna let that
happen, so unrequited love was the order of the day... every
But Miriam says Leda loves me! Could it be true?
Robin sighed through her ball-gag (quietly, so as not to disturb
Miriam), then, slowly, carefully stretched as best she
could. The hobble-chain joining her shackles tinkled,
quietly, as did the chain attached to her steel cable-collar and
thereby attaching Robin to the wall. Miriam appeared to be
undisturbed... which was good.
Robin had no idea what time it was, but was sure it was well
after midnight. This was day three of her experiment as
Miriam's captive. No, yesterday was day three, she
thought. This is day four... the day Leda
returns. And what will happen then?
Inevitably, Robin drifted off to sleep... and experienced a
vivid dream in which she was a captive Princess, Miriam was a
Wicked Witch who lived in an isolated, grim castle infested with
flying monkeys, Jordan was Miriam's Apprentice Witch and
Fighter/Assassin, and Leda was a half-elf Warrior/Thief who came
to rescue Princess Robin and was captured for her
troubles. And the Wicked Witch made her (the Princess)
watch as Jordan erotically tortured Leda, over and over and
over. Poor Leda had suffered orgasm after involuntary
orgasm, and Robin was helpless to help her!
It was a disturbing (and wet) dream, and Robin remembered none
of it in the morning.
|| Chapter 12
her eyes. Dawn had arrived, the light from the curtained
windows was just enough to illuminate the bedroom, and the bed
was shaking. Miriam was also awake.
The Wicked Witch/Mistress yawned, stretched, gracefully climbed
to her feet, and stretched again—and this time it was a
stretch. She then smiled at Robin.
"Good morning, Cupcake," Miriam purred, then padded into the
master bath, closing the door behind her. She was still
naked (of course) and the steel chastity belt was still girding
her loins, as the saying goes.
Robin heard the water run in the washbasin... followed by the
toilet flushing... followed by the washbasin, again. Robin
remained on the bed with her ankles shackled, arms encased in
the nylons and duct-tape box-tie, neck locked in a steel
cable-collar that also tethered her to the bedroom wall, and
with the ball-gag plugging her mouth.
Miriam emerged from the bathroom (still nude and wearing a steel
chastity belt, of course) and padded to the walk-in closet.
"Mrrrk?" Robin inquired. What about me?
Miriam emerged again (eventually) and now the chastity belt was
completely hidden under the skirt of another of her seemingly
infinite collection of pretty print dresses. Sandals
graced her strong, beautiful feet, and a smile graced her
beautiful face; however—Gulp!—a black leather bundle of
some sort was tucked under her right arm!
Robin's eyes popped wide. "Mrrrk?" More leather?
Without preamble Miriam rolled Robin over onto her
stomach. Robin heard the tinkle of rattling buckles, and
then, something—obviously the mysterious leather
whatever-it-was—slithered and slid up and over her folded and
already encased arms. "Nrrrm!" The leather
whatever-it-was tightened... then tightened some more as Miriam
threaded straps through buckles, pulled out slack, and secured
the buckles. From her position face-down on the bed Robin
couldn't watch what was happening, but she could follow
Miriam's actions by sound and feel. Ominously, each time
Miriam buckled a buckle, the process ended with a quiet metallic
Miriam lifted Robin until she was sitting on the rumpled bed,
then deployed and tightened a curious arrangement of straps
across Robin's chest and upper arms. The straps
individually encircled and trapped Robin's breasts, then buckled
together behind her back. Click. The
"bra-strap" was integral to the leather whatever-it-was encasing
her arms, and when Robin rolled her shoulders and twisted at the
waist, she could tell the whole thing was one tight leather
system. Robin heard metallic rattles as she struggled and
realized the various clicks she'd heard earlier had
been the sound of Miriam locking a tiny padlock through each and
Robin focused on her smiling captor. "Mrrrf?" The
"thing" was... an arm-bag-binder? Robin had no
idea what the manufacturer actually called their product, but
could tell she was now doubly helpless. Even if
her arms hadn't already been mummified in nylons and
tape, the leather binder would have rendered her helpless.
Also, her boobs were now bulging (a little) through the openings
in the gleaming black leather bra-strap arrangement. Talk
about overkill, Robin mused.
"Very pretty," Miriam sighed, then unlocked Robin's steel
cable-collar and helped her stand. "Off we go, Cupcake,"
the Wicked Witch/Mistress purred, draping an arm over Robin's
shoulder and leading her from the bedroom.
"Mrrr?" Robin was still reeling from the addition of the
leather bag-binder, but had it together enough to realize she
was not being led to the master bathroom or the
guest bathroom. They were already down the hall and were
headed for the kitchen. "Mrrr?"
Miriam ignored Robin's ball-gagged question as they entered and
crossed the kitchen and the Wicked Witch/Mistress opened the
door to the basement.
Robin stomped a fettered foot and tried to squirm out from under
Miriam's arm. "Nrrrrr!" She failed to escape.
"Don't be difficult, Cupcake," Miriam chuckled, then dragged
(led) Robin down the basement stairs. They walked slowly,
with Miriam making sure her prisoner didn't trip. She then
led the reluctant and still weakly struggling Robin across the
basement to the steel door.
It was clear that given half a chance Robin was going to make a
run for it (meaning make a barefoot, shackled shuffle for
it), but Miriam removed that option by gently pushing Robin
face-and-boobs-first against the cold steel door and pinning her
with her own body while she unlocked the door, lifted the hasp,
and drew the bolt. Thunk! She then stepped
back, taking Robin with her, opened the door—Eeeeee!—and
led Robin into the alcove. Miriam repeated the
body-pinning maneuver against the bars while she unlocked and
opened the gate—Eeeeee!—led Robin into the cell, and
plunked her down on the sleeping pad.
Robin squirmed and complained—"Mrrrrr!"—as Miriam fit the
dungeon's steel cable-collar around her neck and secured its
modified padlock. Click. Robin's brown eyes
welled with tears. The naked, helpless prisoner was the
very picture of Pathetic Resignation, and it was not an
"Poor thing," Miriam sighed. She was still smiling.
"Your love interest will be home soon, Cupcake," she added as
she combed errant strands of Robin's tousled brown hair from her
face. "Only a few more hours." She leaned close,
planted a kiss on her prisoner's forehead, then reached behind
Robin's ball-gagged head, parted her hair, and fumbled with the
Robin waited for Miriam to finish buckling the strap on its
first hole, as usual. She'd force the rubber sphere from
her mouth and would finally be able to beg for
mercy. The strap loosened and she immediately began trying
to expell the ball.
Meanwhile, Miriam stood, stepped into the alcove, closed the
barred gate—Eeeeee!—turned the lock, stepped back into
the basement, and closed the steel door—Eeeeee! Thunk!
That was the sound of door's bolt being thrown, of course.
Robin blinked in dismay. "Mrrr?" No parting
words? She continued trying to force the ball from
her mouth, but it was proving to be more difficult than
before. Eventually she succeeded, working her jaw and
managing to free her chin from the ball and strap. The
ball-gag dropped and became a gag-necklace, but it was a little
tighter than before. The ball nudged the bottom of her
cable-collar. It would appear the Wicked Witch/Mistress
had re-secured the gag-strap on its second hole.
Robin blinked the tears from her eyes and focused on the closed
and locked gate and door. "MIRIAM!" she shouted.
"PLEASE! COME BACK!" Her voice echoed through the
dungeon, and it was Robin's guess that if Miriam was standing
directly in front of the steel door, she might have
heard her desperate pleas. Seconds passed with no
response. "Please come back," Robin sighed, this
time in a sad whisper. Still no response.
Eventually, Robin would drag herself to the steel commode and
use the bidet/drinking fountain to slake her thirst and take her
morning tinkle. Afterwards, she'd settle back onto the pad
to wait for breakfast. But for now... Robin stared into
space and tried to ignore her trembling chin and the tears
trickling down her cheeks.
Leda, she thought, come save me!
|| Chapter 12