Return of the expedition to Mysterious Mountain back to Cedar
Wind Farm happened about an hour after noon. Truth be
told, Jordan Price's return was triumphal, but Leda Brewer's was
not. The Poor, Pathetic Pack-Pony was in something of a
dudgeon. They had stopped at the pond along the way, as
planned, and Jordan had enjoyed a leisurely and no doubt very
refreshing skinny-dip in the cool and no doubt very
refreshing waters, but Leda's Callously Cruel Handler had
tethered her to a convenient tree so all she could do
was watch as Jordan splashed around. Nobody likes a grumpy
pack-pony, but Leda felt she had every reason to be in a huff...
and she was.
The wolfhounds were the first to realize their two-legged sister
(and Swan, a friend-of-the-pack) had returned. They howled
and yodeled their greetings and bounded towards the backpackers.
Miriam noticed, of course. She emerged from the kitchen
smiling and wiping her hands with a hand towel. "Welcome
home!" she shouted as the dogs bounced and pranced, wagged their
tails, sniffed crotches, and licked the backpackers' faces.
Jordan laughed and managed to fend off most of the canine
affection. She also hugged and petted her four-legged
brothers and sisters and patted their furry heads and backs.
As for Leda, all she could do was squeal through her
panties-and-bandana-gag, stutter-step in place on her booted
feet, and try her best to twist and turn away from the canine
snouts lifting her All-Ireland plaid sports mini-kilt and
goosing her between the legs, from the front, back, and
sometimes both at the same time. She also tried
twisting away from the happy hounds as they jumped up and licked
her gagged and grimacing face, but the awkward bulk of her
backpack and her bound wrists made avoidance impossible.
"Stop that, you crazy mutts!" Miriam chuckled, grabbing collars
and dragging the dogs away from poor, flustered Leda. The
hounds continued milling around, panting and thrashing their
tails, but did stop actively greeting Jordan's pack-pony.
"Welcome home," Miriam reiterated, hugging and kissing first her
daughter... and then the Swan. "Look at you," she said,
smiling at Leda.
Leda glowered in return and said nothing, mainly because she was
bandana-cleave-gagged (with panties stuffing). Miriam's
Swan was also a little embarrassed (for some inexplicable
reason). She was wearing boots and socks, but the
boisterous canine greeting ceremony had revealed that she was
naked under her kilt. In addition, thanks to the dogs, the
knot that should have been holding the two halves of her
unbuttoned shirt together had come undone and the shirt was
hanging completely open. It still draped and covered most
of her breasts (including her nipples, just barely), but the
swaying chain connecting her nipple-stirrups was on full
"Where's Robin?" Jordan inquired (casually) as she looked
towards the house.
Miriam's smile broadened. Her eyes were on the chain
swaying between Leda's breasts. "I know all about your bet
with the Swan, Pumpkin," she purred, then turned and planted a
light kiss on her daughter's cheek. "Sorry, darling.
Jordan heaved a disappointed sigh. "Unbelievable."
She focused on her mother's smiling face. "Wait.
You're seriously telling me that little pipsqueak
didn't wimp out?" Her mother nodded, so Jordan sighed,
again. "I don't believe it."
"Cupcake has hidden strength," Miriam purred. She was
smiling at Leda.
Leda chortled through her gag and smiled back.
"Mrrrmfh!" 'Cupcake!' I love it! I'm gonna
"Don't gloat, darling," Miriam chided the pack-pony. "It's
"No, seriously," Jordan demanded. "She never once begged
Miriam shifted her smile to Jordan. "Nobody likes a sore
Jordan shook her head. "There's no way that little wuss—"
Miriam silenced Jordan by placing her right index finger against
her daughter's lips. "I didn't raise you to welch on bets,
"I'm not welching on anything," Jordan huffed. "I just
don't believe it. She's so... little."
"Like I said," Miriam purred. "Hidden strength.
Cupcake is neither a wimp nor a wuss... but she is
little." She planted a kiss on the tip of Leda's
nose. "Like my precious petite Swan."
Leda winked at Miriam, then shifted her gagged smile to Jordan.
Jordan glowered in return. "I'm taking a shower," she
announced, then hefted her pack and trudged away towards the
"You need one!" Miriam called after her daughter, then turned to
Leda. "You do too, darling—but not just yet." She
hooked her right index finger through the chain connecting
Leda's nipple-stirrups, then turned and headed for the barn.
"Mrk!" Leda yelped, and followed, because where Leda's
nipple-stirrups go, so goes Leda.
The wolfhounds were in a quandary. Their Alpha was headed
for the barn with the Leda/Swan in tow, but their Beta was
headed for the house. Miriam was always interesting and
both Jordan and the Leda/Swan were covered with all
sorts of new smells; however, on occasion Jordan had been known
to sneak snacks to her ravenous pack-siblings. The
collective decision was made and the wolfhounds followed along
after Jordan, still panting and wagging their tails.
| Chapter 13
miserable. She had no idea what time of day it was, but
the breakfast window had closed hours ago. Even
lunch had been a no show. Miriam had abandoned her!
Lying on the dungeon cell's sleeping-pad—her ankles shackled in
cold steel (with a hefty hobbling-chain)—her arms folded behind
her back, mummified with nylon stockings overlaid with
overlapping layers of silver-gray duct-tape, and encased
in a leather bag-binder (which included a strap that squeezed
her boobs and pinned her upper-arms to her torso)—her neck
locked in one of Miriam's three steel cable-collars (and thereby
tethered to the dungeon wall)—Robin was helpless, naked, hungry,
At least the ball-gag is on necklace duty, Robin thought,
and not plugging my mouth. She then heaved the
latest in an endless series of deep, dramatic sighs.
Soon after Miriam the Wicked Witch/Mistress had abandoned her to
her Cruel Fate, Robin had shuffled over to the steel commode and
availed herself of its fountain/bidet function to slake her
morning thirst, then had taken her morning tinkle.
Sometime later she'd visited the commode again, this time to
empty her bowels. Thankfully, the bidet had proved up to
the task of cleaning her nether region afterwards, but the well
water feeding the commode was very cold. By the
time Robin was satisfied that she was spanking fresh (so to
speak), her crotch was numb and she was half-afraid icicles
might be forming.
Anyway, Robin survived the frigid ordeal, shuffled back to the
pad, and settled in to wait for the breakfast (and lunch) that
This is more 'advanced languishing,' Robin decided at
some point. Miriam hadn't characterized it as such.
In fact, the Wicked Witch/Mistress had just locked Robin in the
dungeon and hadn't characterized it as anything.
She hadn't even said goodbye. That said (or not said), it
was obvious. Robin's brief but stringent hogtie of the
previous day had been Positional Advanced
Languishing. This was Temporal Advanced
Languishing. Miriam is letting me stew in my own
juices. Robin's stomach growled. 'Stew'...
Bad choice of metaphor. She's letting me starve... in
Hours passed. The glow emanating from the glass blocks
walling off the cell's barred window wasn't helpful. As
the earth rotated there was no change in the angle of the
indirect light, no indication of the passage of time. The
blocks glowed during the day. The glow slowly faded to
black at sunset... then slowly returned at dawn. It
glowed. Robins internal clock was on its own.
Hours passed... and then...
That was the sound of the outer door's bolt being drawn, of
course. "Finally!" Robin muttered under her breath.
She was going to give Miriam a piece of her mind for abandoning
her like this, but only after she was safely out of the dungeon
and on her way to the kitchen to enjoy a late lunch.
Wouldn't want to make the Wicked Witch/Mistress angry.
Miriam might decide her Cupcake deserved more Temporal
Eeeeee! The steel door squealed open, Miriam
stepped into the alcove (still wearing the same pretty print
dress as before and smiling her ubiquitous smile), and with her—
Robin's eyes popped wide. What the hell?!
Right behind Miriam was Leda! And her BFF was naked!
And locked in chains! And gagged with a bandana! And
her mouth stuffed with something! And she was holding a
picnic basket! And she was naked!
"Look who's back!" Miriam announced (unnecessarily) as she
unlocked and opened the barred gate. Eeeeee!
"Leda!" Robin gasped (unnecessarily) as her BFF shuffled past
Miriam and into the cell.
Miriam closed the gate behind Leda—Eeeeee!—then stepped
back into the basement. "You girls have fun!" she said
brightly, then closed the steel door—Eeeeee!—and threw
the bolt. Thunk! She no doubt also secured
the steel door's hasp and locked the high-security padlock, but
as usual the door absorbed those sounds.
Robin stared at Leda.
Leda stared at Robin.
Robin noted that her BFF's chains were what she believed were
variously referred to as slave-, harem-, or
serving-chains. There was a collar, a pair of manacles,
and a pair of shackles, all linked together by a vertical chain
with a generous hobble-chain between the shackles and a less
generous connecting chain between the manacles. The
hardware wasn't as hefty as Robin's shackles and either her
hobble-chain or the chain tethering her to the wall,
but was quite obviously up to the task of robbing Leda of a
great deal of her freedom of motion while being completely
inescapable. The collar, manacles, and shackles were also
quite obviously "comfortable," meaning their steel walls were
well-rounded, smooth, and not overly tight.
Leda shuffled over to the sleeping pad, set the picnic basket on
the floor, then reached behind her head and fumbled with her
bandana-cleave-gag. Standing with her ankles together and
bent slightly at the waist, her chains allowed her to part her
hair and reach the knot. She removed and tossed the still
folded bandana towards the barred gate, plucked a pair of
crumpled and saliva-soaked panties from her mouth, and tossed
them in the same direction.
Robin stared at Leda.
Leda stared at Robin.
"Uh... hi." Robin said finally, staring up at her BFF.
"Hi," Leda returned the greeting, staring down at her BFF.
Robin sat up and squirmed towards the dungeon wall, making room
Leda took the hint and sat, then arranged her chains and reached
out and arranged Robin's collar chain off to the side.
"Glad to see me?" she inquired.
"Yeah." Is she blushing? Robin wondered. I
think she is! And then, Robin realized she was
blushing too, which caused her to blush even more.
"I'm also disappointed," she added.
Robin managed a wry smile. "I was sorta hoping for a
Leda smiled, shrugged, and tugged on her manacles.
"You're a mess," Robin observed.
It was true. Leda's hair was tousled and obviously in need
of a good shampoo. Her skin (including her face) was
glistening, soiled with dirt, and slightly sunburned.
Obviously, she hadn't yet showered after her four days of
backpacking and three nights of camping.
"You should talk," Leda countered, still smiling.
Robin realized that was also true. She was also
a mess. She wasn't sunburned, but it was obvious she
was overdue for a shower and shampoo of her own. She
shifted her gaze to the picnic basket (and her stomach growled).
Leda took the hint, opened the basket, spread one of two cloth
napkins on the pad between them, then deployed a veritable feast
in the form of a fresh-baked baguette, three kinds of cheese, a
summer sausage, apples, a tin of smoked oysters, a tin of some
sort of meat pâte, and a large (3 liter) bottle of red
wine! There was also a plate, a cheese knife (which was
also suitable for slicing the sausage and apples), and a single
stemmed wine glass.
"Oh, good," Robin purred, nodding her chin at the knife.
"We can use that to escape."
Leda gasped in scandalized shock. "Threaten Miriam with a
knife?" she demanded. "Are you insane?"
Robin grinned. "I was talking about tunneling to freedom."
"Oh," Leda sliced off a small hunk off the end of the
baguette. "Let's eat first. I missed lunch."
"I missed lunch and breakfast," Robin countered.
"Yeah," Leda sighed, "the service down here has always sucked."
She popped the bread into Robin's mouth, then sliced off a small
wedge of cheese and took a nibble. "Yum! Smoked
Gouda!" She chewed and swallowed. "Or maybe Edam."
Robin also chewed and swallowed. "Gimme!" she demanded,
"and open the wine."
Leah grinned and held the remaining tidbit of cheese before her
BFF's eager lips. "Promise to tell me everything that
happened while I was away?"
"Only if you tell me what happened during the trip," Robin
responded, then lunged forward and chomped on the cheese.
"Hey, watch the fingers!" Leda chuckled, then began opening the
wine. Thanks to Miriam's foresight the bottle had a screw
cap. No corkscrew was required.
|| Chapter 13
Jordan complained. "Come back!"
She was in the barn, in one of the horse stalls, and was locked
in the family pillory.
It was another of the many gifts her late father had given her
mother and was a sterling example of rustic, elegant carpentry
and joinery at their very best. It had a stable base, was
adjustable in height, and the pillory section held the occupant
firmly but comfortably in place. That is, the neck and
wrist openings were deep, well-rounded, and tight without being
overly tight. Of course, "comfortable" only
described the actual contact of the occupant's neck and wrists
with the wood. The position enforced by the device was not
comfortable. In fact, after several minutes, the
bent-at-the-waist-and-leaning-forward position became downright
Jordan had been enjoying a long, leisurely soak in her mother's
Jacuzzi (with churning bubbles and added bath salts) when her
mother entered the master bathroom and smiled at her nude, wet,
and luxuriating daughter.
"Enough is enough," Miriam purred, then leaned close, turned off
the tub's Jacuzzi function, and opened the drain.
"Mother!" Jordan complained. It was only then that she
noticed the pair of Peerless handcuffs dangling from her
maternal unit's left hand. "I'm trying to get clean here."
"You're clean," Miriam chuckled as the water drained away.
She took hold of her daughter's right wrist. "Up," she
ordered, and helped Jordan stand.
"Mother!" Jordan whined as Miriam spun her around and deftly
cuffed her wrists together behind her back.
Actually, Jordan was clean. She'd started with a
quick shower and shampoo to scrub and rinse off the trail-dirt,
then dried, combed, and brushed her hair and pinned it up to
keep it dry. Soaking in the tub had been an indulgence.
Miriam used a fluffy towel to dry her pouting daughter's body,
then led her from the master bathroom.
"Why are you being so mean?" Jordan demanded as she was dragged
kicking and screaming (or maybe pouting and cooperative) through
the house, out a side door, and towards the barn.
"I'm sure when the Swan has finished chatting with Cupcake down
in the dungeon," Miriam explained, "she'll want to start
collecting her winnings right away. I'm simply expediting
"Mother!" Jordan whined, again.
Once they were in the barn, Miriam led Jordan (Leda's winnings)
to the "pillory stall," and then inside.
Jordan waited stoically (meaning nervously) as her mother
unlatched and opened the pillory's top half, then unlocked her
cuffs. "This is mean," she huffed as she leaned forward
and placed her wrists and neck in the appropriate openings.
"I've warned you repeatedly about taking Leda for granted,"
Miriam lectured as she closed the pillory, incarcerating her
naked daughter in its wooden embrace. "Your bet with the
Swan was both ill-advised and selfish. This visit
was supposed to be about Leda and her roommate, the
adorable and delightful Cupcake. You had no right to
horn in on the program, other than as my helper." She
turned the pillory's locking latch with a click, then
gave Jordan's left butt-cheek a resounding slap.
"You think about that while you wait for Leda," Miriam added as
she knelt and ratcheted the cuffs around Jordan's ankles—Click-click-click-click...
click-click-click-click—then stood, brushed the dust from
her knees, and exited the stall, closing and latching its
shoulder-height door behind her.
"Mother!" Leda complained. "Come back!"
Jordan's maternal unit didn't come back. In fact,
Jordan heard the person door set in the barn's oversized double
doors open... and close. Jordan had been abandoned, naked
and—to coin a phrase—pilloried. She heaved a sigh.
At least the pillory was set at the correct height, meaning her
feet were flat on the floor and the
bent-at-the-waist-and-leaning-forward angle wasn't extreme.
The pillory (and therefore Jordan) was positioned in the stall
facing the back wall, and there was a tall, shallow wooden
cabinet mounted on the wall in question. Other than the
wall itself and the floor below, the cabinet was the only thing
Jordan could see. Its doors were currently closed, but
Jordan knew it contained a variety of whips, paddles, and
floggers, all hanging from pegs. It also incorporated a
second, much smaller sub-cabinet that contained feathers, a
Wartenberg pinwheel, nipple-clamps, and various other diabolical
instruments and devices designed to "entertain" the
Unfortunately, Jordan knew that Leda knew all about both the
pillory and the contents of the cabinet and sub-cabinet.
Jordan had not only shown them to the Swan, but had used them
on her during a previous visit.
Jordan settled in to wait, but she didn't fill the time thinking
about the ill-advised nature of her bet with Leda, as her mother
had ordered. Instead, Jordan started the preliminary
planning for her post-bet-settlement revenge. That
is, she started mentally designing novel, cruel, and unusual
steel devices she could (and would) make and use to
incarcerate and/or torment a naked Leda Brewer once they left
the farm and had returned to work. It would be a win-win
for Jordan. She'd have new products to add to her section
of the ever growing Archer Metals "hobby" catalog and she'd
have her revenge for whatever Leda was about to do to her.
For Leda, of course, it would be a solid lose.
|| Chapter 13
down in the dungeon...
Leda delivered a detailed after action report documenting the
Extreme Cruelty and Obscene Erotic Torment Jordan had
perpetrated upon Leda the Virtuous Damsel—and by "detailed" I
mean she grossly exaggerated the distress of her naked captivity
while only strongly hinting at what had happened inside the
zipped-together sleeping bags at night. Leda hadn't
actually lied, per se, but had emphasized Jordan's
"perfidy" and her own "suffering" while giving the erotic
shenanigans short shrift.
Robin wasn't fooled. Leda was her longtime BFF and there
was nothing wrong with Robin's bullshit filter. She was
sure Leda's narrative was largely factual, but wasn't buying the
Swan's Innocent Damsel routine. 'Swan!' I love
that. Jordan and Leda played at work, so naturally,
Jordan and Leda had played on the trail, and Leda had been an
active participant. Robin refrained from rolling her eyes
or shaking her head, but she knew Leda had had fun and was
having fun now.
And then it was Robin's turn to tell the story of what had
happened down on the farm while Leda was away. She was
straightforward and left nothing out; however, she was
purposely vague about Miriam rigging vibrators to erotically
torture her in the barn and making the proverbial
hot-monkey-love to her in the Wicked Witch-Mistress
bedroom. That was private and none of Leda's
business. Also, Robin was still processing the
sensual/personal aspects of what Miriam had done to her.
It was too soon. Anyway, she didn't actually lie and
there's no such thing as erotic perjury, so everything was
hunky-dory. Robin also left out the part where Miriam had
alleged that Leda loved her. No need to let that
particular cat out of that particular bag just yet. Maybe
later. Maybe much later.
Leda wasn't fooled either. She knew Robin and she
knew Miriam. It was easy to fill in the blanks. And
if, on some future occasion, she decided she wanted to know
more, she'd tie up her BFF and tickle the juicy details out of
By the time both narratives were complete, the overwhelming
majority of the picnic had been consumed, including all but a
generous slosh in the bottom of the wine bottle. That was
more wine than the BFFs usually consumed in one sitting, but
storytelling (and listening) is thirsty work. Anyway, they
were both a little tipsy.
Leda cleaned up by re-stowing the wrappers, plate, knife,
napkins, bottle, and wineglass in the picnic basket. Then,
at Robin's direction, she placed the basket at the designated
pick-up station next to the barred gate. (Leda was already
quite familiar with Cedar Winds Farm Dungeon Etiquette, but she
let Robin take the lead in getting things ready for Miriam's
And then, they settled in to wait. The sleeping-pad was
made for one, but the BFFs made do. They snuggled
together, heaved a collective sigh, and closed their eyes.
Actually, Leda did the snuggling. She only had
serving-chains to contend with. Robin was more elaborately
restrained. She was the snugglee.
So... Joint Temporal Advanced Languishing.
They waited and dozed... each with a full belly and a slight
buzz... nude, helpless, and together.
....... zzzzzzz .......
It was only a brief nap. Thunk! Eeeeee!
Eeeeee! The bolt was thrown, the steel door opened,
the barred gate opened, and Miriam was standing in the dungeon,
still wearing the same sandals and pretty print dress. She
was also... wait for it... smiling.
"Ahhh," Miriam sighed. "Just look at you. Such a
cute, adorable pair."
Robin and Leda exchanged amused, indulgent smirks and rolled
Meanwhile, Mirian had removed the light chain holding the key to
Robin's steel cable-collar from around her neck and tossed it to
Leda, then picked up the largely empty picnic basket.
"Meet me in the kitchen," the Wicked Witch/Mistress of Cedar
Wind Farm ordered, then spun on her sandal-clad heels and left
The naked prisoners watched the maturely hot Miriam depart, then
Leda used the key to unlock her BFF's collar, set the collar on
the sleeping-pad, dropped the key and chain over Robin's head
and around her neck, then straightened her smiling (and
blushing) BFF's tousled hair. "Guess we might as well,"
she suggested, climbing to her shackled feet and helping Robin
climb to her shackled feet.
"Might as well," Robin agreed.
The captives clanked, rattled, and padded across the basement in
"Ya think she's still wearing the chastity belt?" Robin
whispered to her BFF.
"I can't tell," Leda whispered back.
They clanked and clattered up the stairs, entered the kitchen,
and found Miriam standing next to the kitchen table. On
the table was an empty cardboard box, a key-ring, and a pair of
heavy duty blunt-tip shears similar to bandage scissors.
"You girls free yourselves and put everything in the box,"
Miriam ordered, "then scamper upstairs and get clean and
dressed. You can use the tub in my bathroom, if you like,
but please don't make a mess."
"Clothes," Robin sighed. "I remember clothes."
Meanwhile, with little difficulty, Leda had found the rather
peculiar little key that fit her ensemble and was removing her
"It's over?" Robin inquired, focusing on Miriam. "The
"This experiment is over," Miriam chuckled. "I'm
sure there will be others."
Robin sighed in relief (with a soupçon of
disappointment). But Leda just got here!
Leda knelt at Robin's feet, fumbled with the key-ring until she
found the right key, and unlocked her BFF's shackles. She
then stood, spun Robin around—"Hey!"—and started unlocking the
many tiny padlocks securing the straps of the arm-bag-binder's
"Where's Jordan?" Leda asked as she unbuckled the now unlocked
buckles and pulled the binder from Robin's arms.
"She's playing in the barn," Miriam purred.
Leda was staring at the tube of silver-duct-tape encasing
Robin's folded arms. She shook her head, then focused an
even stare on Miriam. "Overkill much?"
"You girls are so much fun," Miriam chuckled.
Robin looked back over her shoulder and the BFF's exchanged a
rather pained smile. "Yeah," Robin drawled, "we're a
regular laugh riot."
"The proverbial barrel of monkeys," Leda agreed.
"The proverbial barrel of naked monkeys," Miriam
The BFFs sighed, Leda used the blunt tip of the shears to probe
under the tape, then began carefully slicing her way through the
last of Robin's restraints.
sweaty, and with smudged skin and dirty, tousled hair—Robin and Leda were free.
They looked each other up and down from head to toe... and
smiled. "Get her!" Robin shouted, and the BFFs pounced!
Miriam found herself under attack from a pair of grubby,
naked "monkeys." She was hugged, kissed, and
tickled! It was a disrespectful outrage! She had no
choice but to cringe and giggle. This happened for several
seconds... then the monkeys scampered from the kitchen, hooting
"You girls just wait!" Miriam shouted after them, then smiled
and dropped the newly shed nylons-and-duct-tape cocoon in the
trash, picked up the box, and set about the serious task of
returning the various items within to their designated storage
locations. "Cupcake and Swan, the Monkey Twins," she
chortled to herself, smiling and shaking her head. "So
|| Chapter 13
seriously considering matricide. Not really, but her back
was beginning to ache and standing in the pillory with her
ankles cuffed together was getting very old, was not
fun, and might be considered grounds for crossing her
maternal unit off this year's Christmas list!
Then—Finally!—Jordan heard the sound of the barn's person
door opening... followed several seconds later by the opening of
the door to her stall. Either Mother was returning to the
scene of the crime or the Swan had arrived to start collecting
her winnings. Until whoever they were stepped into
Jordan's rather limited field of vision, she wouldn't be able to
tell. There was a pause... Jordan waited... stoic, brave
damsel that she was... and then...
"Eeek! Stop that!" Jordan demanded.
Several drops of... something had landed on her back,
and now a smooth, warm hand was sliding up and down her spine,
spreading the drops into an even layer!
"I said stop!" Jordan repeated, squirming in the
It was a massage. Some unknown party was rubbing some sort
of oil or lotion on her back. Then, the first hand was
joined by a second!
"Who's there!" Jordan growled. She knew perfectly well the
hands gliding over her shoulders, back, and arms belonged to
Leda. "Eeek!" It certainly wasn't Mother! One
of the hands had passed between her butt-cheeks and thighs and
was massaging her pussy! "I said stop!"
The hands didn't stop. In fact... hands one and
two were joined by hands three and four!
Jordan scowled and squirmed. Obviously Leda and
her diminutive twerp of a BFF were the perpetrators of this
"Sorry, darling," Leda's voice announced. "Mother's
"What?" Jordan huffed.
"Your mother ordered us to take care of your sunburn," Leda
explained. "I already rubbed aloe lotion on my
"I helped!" Robin's voice added, confirming her presence.
"Yes, you did, Cupcake," Leda agreed.
"I certainly did, Swan," Robin said solemnly, and the diminutive
Jordan rolled her eyes and managed not to vomit in
disgust. The BFFs were doing a thorough job of
moisturizing and medicating her skin, a very thorough
job. Both her upper and lower body received
attention. This continued for a while... with no further
comments from the pipsqueaks. At one point hands reached
around her bent-over body and moisturized her breasts and
tummy. Again, they were thorough, especially with respect
to her semi-pendulous breasts.
And then, one of the pairs of hands broke contact and Leda
stepped into view around the side of the pillory, smiling a
disgustingly smug smile. She had two things in her oily
hands: a plastic tube of lotion and a handcuff key. "I'll
let you do your own face," the grinning little twerp
purred. "You'd probably bite my fingers if I tried."
"Good call," Jordan growled. She noted that Leda was
clean, including her hair, and was wearing a pretty
sundress. She looked downright vivacious. It was
nauseating, as was the Swan's radiant, self-satisfied
smile. She watched as Leda set the lotion and handcuff key
on top of the whip, paddle, and flogger cabinet.
Leda stepped directly in front of Jordan and leaned close,
mimicking her bent-at-the-waist posture but with her hands on
her knees. Her smiling face was mere inches from the
pilloried prisoner's glowering visage. "Your mother sends
her regards and orders you to stop messing around in the barn
and report to the kitchen for supper. I left the key to
your pretty ankle-bracelets right there," she added, pointing
behind her at the cabinet, "so you won't have to mince the
entire distance to the house."
"How very thoughtful of you," Jordan muttered. "I'll take
it into account while I decide how I'm going to torture
you." This elicited a giggling response from Robin. the
petite, unseen dingbat still behind the pillory and moisturizing
her naked body. "That means you too, Cupcake," Jordan
Robin continued giggled. Leda continued her humiliating
"That reminds me," Leda purred. "Your mother also decreed
that I'm not to start collecting on our bet until morning, so
all this pillory nonsense doesn't count. It's between you
and Mommy Dearest."
"In general," Robin intoned, "I've found it good policy not
to get involved in other people's family disputes."
She was still moisturizing Jordan's breasts. At this point
it was arguable that the breasts in question were over-moisturized
and the kneading and squeezing was totally gratuitous.
"I quite agree, Cupcake," Leda giggled.
"Thank you, Swan."
Leda stepped from view, Jordan heard the click of the pillory's
latch being released. Then, the top beam lifted and Leda
and her accomplice giggled and scampered away. The sound
of their much amused passage faded as they no doubt skipped
the length of the barn... passed through the barn door and
out into the night... and were gone.
Jordan eased herself from the pillory and began the laborious
process of mincing around the wooden structure with careful,
tiny, steel-impeded, barefoot steps.
Ow, ow, ow, ow...
Jordan appreciated a good prank as much as the next naked,
pilloried, and ankle-cuffed damsel, but that didn't mean she'd
forego plotting her revenge. And now, Robin Clery (aka
"Cupcake") had added herself to the list.
Ow, ow, ow, ow...
All I have to do is find an excuse to give Cupcake a tour of
Archer Metals, Jordan thought... at closing time... on
the Friday of a three-day weekend. The Swan will already
be waiting in my workshop, of course.
Ow, ow, ow, ow...
She finally reached the cabinet, fumbled for the key, then bent
at the waist, planted her naked butt against the closed cabinet
for stability, and carefully unlocked the handcuffs from around
her ankles. She set the key and empty cuffs atop the
cabinet, next to the half-full tube of moisturizer. Then,
in accordance with her loving mother's orders, she moisturized
her still scowling face. Jordan didn't bother squeezing
additional lotion from the tube. There was more than
enough of the oily fluid to do the job already coating her
excessively moisturized boobs.
|| Chapter 13