Jordan screamed through her bit-gag (with rose-pink panties
Flat on her back on her mother's massage table—her arms
stretched overhead with her wrists buckled in padded leather
medical restraint-style cuffs—her left leg stretched towards the
foot of the table with her ankle bound in a similar leather
medical restraint-type cuff—broad, taut leather straps stretched
across her body at the chest (above her breasts), waist, and
left thigh—her right foot frozen in a high kick enforced by a
single taut strand of coyote-brown paracord binding her ankle,
foot, and big toe on pointe, Jordan was helpless.
Naked, spreadeagled (at three points), strapped down,
high-kicking, and helpless!
Inescapable bondage and humiliating nudity were bad enough, but
far worse were the pair of objects Leda, the smiling, gloating,
pretty sundress-wearing authoress of her predicament, was
holding in her hands. Now, Jordan knew exactly what
the pipsqueak twerp was planning in her twisted little mind, exactly
how she intended to collect on their bet (or at least had a
very good idea). The Evil Swan had wagered that Cupcake
(Robin Cleary) could and would endure a full four days of
"indoctrination" at the hands of Miriam (Jordan's loving mother)
without wimping out and quitting, and she'd won! And
Jordan had lost! And now she was paying the price.
What Leda intended to do to her was horrible, insidious, and
evil (see also perverse)! But far worse... it was girly!
"Mrrrk!" Jordan reiterated, with less volume but just as much
horror and anger.
"Calm down, Jordy," Leda chuckled. "I've warned you.
Several times I've warned you."
Robin was confused. She could see what Leda was holding,
but had no idea why Jordan was so obviously upset. And as
Robin was naked, bound in an integrated single-sleeve
armbinder/body-harness and ball-gagged, she couldn't
ask. Actually, the ball-gag was the reason for her not
being able to ask, but the leather bondage prevented her from removing
the ball-gag, so it contributed. Anyway...
In Leda's right hand was a can of shaving gel, and in her left
what Robin recognized as Leda's personal feminine electric
Leda gave the can a shake. "Skintimate Raspberry Rain
moisturizing shave gel!" she announced. "It has a
"Mrrrk!" Jordan responded.
What's wrong with raspberries? Robin wondered.
Leda gave the razor a shake. "And I can personally
vouch for this particular model. It gives a very
smooth, close, irritation-free shave, especially with
the help of a little gel... or a lot of gel."
"Mrrrk!" Jordan thrashed and fought her restraints with
all her strength, momentarily accepting the pain of the cord
pinching her left foot and big toe. Her resistance was
futile, as the saying goes.
She's gonna shave her bush! Robin assumed. That was
Leda's obvious target: Jordan's dark, mildly overgrown,
riotously curly pubic bush. Kinky, but as insidious
tortures go, not bad. After all, it'll grow back.
Leda smiled at her BFF. "I have warned her," she
explained. "A proper lady keeps her legs smoothly shaved
at all times. But Tomboy, here, lets herself get
absolutely simian on a regular basis." She
shifted her smile back to Jordan's gagged, horrified face.
"Like now." She set the shaver down on the table, popped
the top from the can of gel, and spritzed a generous dollop onto
her right palm. "I've warned her that if she didn't start
shaving her gams like a normal person, I'd do it for her.
Really. I've warned her."
The gel was translucent and dark-pink, which was a surprise to
no one in the stall.
Leda gave the dollop a delicate sniff. "Yum!
Oh... her legs, Robin realized. Tomboy's legs
aren't that hairy," in Robin's opinion. Hairier
than I like to let my 'gams' go between shaves, but
not that hairy.
Jordan was continuing her theme-of-the-day: angry and
Leda began spreading gel on Jordan's elevated leg, replenishing
her palm as needed from the pretty pink can. The
translucent pink gel turned to a pale-pink foam as Leda worked
it into a lather, her hand sliding up and down Jordan's
skin. Soon, Jordan's left leg was coated with a thin,
lubricating layer of pale-pink from her ankle to her calf, her
shin, her knee (including the back of her knee), her
thigh (inner, outer, upper, and lower), and all the way
to the right margin of her pubic thicket.
Now even Robin could smell the raspberries. The gel's
scent was strong but not overpowering. She surmised Jordan
was able to smell it as well. The prisoner-of-the-table's
nostrils were flaring. Also, apparently, Jordan didn't
like raspberries, and she was letting Leda know about it.
Smiling her gloating, evil smile (and even her BFF agreed Leda's
smile was deliciously gloating and evil) Leda stooped,
lifted a hand towel from the box, and cleaned the remaining gel
from her hand. Appropriately, the towel was a light pink
in color. She draped the towel across Jordan's right
thigh, then picked up the razor and clicked it on.
"Here we go," Leda announced (unnecessarily), and began, slowly,
carefully running the vibrating head of the shaver down Jordan's
leg, using the towel to wipe foam from the head of the razor as
It was too horrible to watch! Jordan clenched her eyes
tightly closed, shivered in disgust, and squirmed in
her inescapable bondage.
However, it wasn't too horrible for Robin.
She watched with rapt attention as the razor did its job, slowly
removing foam and leaving in its wake ever-lengthening strips of
smooth, tan skin. Jordan continued shivering and tugging
on her bonds.
I wonder if it tickles? Robin mused. I've
shaved my legs a million times and it never tickles.
But you can't tickle yourself. It doesn't work.
Being a longtime believer in the value of experimentation, Robin
had tried, meaning had tried tickling herself. She
realized there was a way to resolve the issue: she could conduct
another experiment by having Leda tie her down and shave her
legs with her insidious Raspberry Foam of Doom and Evil
Torture Razor. Yeah, I'll get right on that, Robin
Finally, Jordan's high-kicking right leg was 99% foam free (and
Leda clicked off the razor and wiped its head one last
time. "Hmm..." she purred, gently sliding her hand up and
down Jordan's smooth, strong, tan, fruit-scented leg.
"Nice." She smiled at Jordan. "Now, isn't that
better? Don't you enjoy being a girl?"
Robin wasn't sure exactly what Jordan was trying to say, but
guessed it was something on the theme of "Bite me!" only much
Leda turned and headed for the stall door. "I need to
fetch some water," she announced as she opened the door and crossed the
Robin's eyes popped wide. "Mrrrf!" Wait for me!
Too late again. She hurried to the now closed stall door
and watched over the top
of the latched, shoulder-height door as once again Leda
sashayed across the barn, out the side door... and was
gone. Robin turned and returned to the table.
Robin gazed at Jordan.
Jordan glowered at Robin.
I wonder if Swan will let me shave her left leg,
Robin wondered. After all, I am her student.
| Chapter 15
waited for Leda to return, Robin and Jordan communed in gagged,
silent commiseration and condemnation, respectively.
Had they been free to speak, Robin's best guess was their
conversation would have gone something like this:
Robin: "So... it's not too bad having your
leg shaved by a gloating Swan, is it?"
Oddly enough, Jordan's thoughts ran along similar lines, but
unfortunately, at least for now, the Swan's prisoners couldn't
Jordan: "Bite me."
Robin: "Oh, lighten up. Did it tickle?"
Jordan: "Bite. Me."
Leda finally returned, lugging a sloshing metal bucket in her
left hand. "I'm back!" she announced unnecessarily, with a
bright, gloating, and truly infuriating smile (in Jordan's
Robin started blinking again. What's next? she
wondered. Actually, Robin knew exactly (or with a
high probability) what was next, Jordan's left leg, but she was
nervous (and more than a little bit horny).
Leda set the bucket on the floor next to the cardboard box,
produced a pink washcloth from said box, wet it in the bucket,
and wrung it out. She then proceeded to give Jordan's
right leg (the high-kicking, smoothly shaved, raspberry-scented
leg) a gentle but thorough sponge bath (with the washcloth
standing in for an actual sponge).
With Jordan's right leg now glistening wet and hair-free, Leda
released the paracord's quick-release knot, lowered the gam in
question, then rearranged Jordan's strap and cord bindings until
Jordan's left, "hairy" leg was executing the cord-enforced
high-kick and her right, freshly shaved, raspberry-scented leg
was the one flat on the table and held in place by ankle-cuff
and thigh-strap bonds.
And then... violating all standards of common decency and
civilized conduct... Leda applied gel (which quickly became pink
foam) to Jordan's left leg and used the buzzing razor to shave
it smooth, hair-free, foam-free, and girly, just like
her right! In Leda's defense (in Robin's opinion),
symmetry demanded that both legs be equally depilated, but
Cupcake could tell that Tomboy disagreed.
Leda was a cruel, despicable, foam-and-razor-wielding
maniac! And she must pay! (That was Jordan's opinion
on the matter, anyway.)
Leg-shaving mission accomplished, Leda used the washcloth and
bucket to clean Jordan's left leg, then returned the gam to its
former cuffed and strapped down status. The
prisoner-of-the-table was back in her four-point spread-eagle
(with strap reinforcement), and the coyote-brown paracord was
coiled and back in the cardboard box.
And then—although Robin wouldn't have thought it possible if she
hadn't seen it herself—Leda expanded on her raspberry-scented
perfidy by applying foam to Jordan's armpits and using the
buzzing razor to shave them as well!
"Mrrrpfh!" Jordan was making it crystal clear that when a
villainess (like, for example, The Evil Swan) involuntary foamed
and shaved her armpits, it did, indeed, tickle!
Robin watched as Jordan shivered and squirmed on the table and
giggled and growled through her gag. Giggle-growl,
Robin-the-writer considered. Griggle? That isn't
a word... but should it be? I'll have to think about it.
I'll ask for opinions on my blog.
Anyway, Leda carefully, methodically shaved Jordan's pits, and
afterwards used the damp washcloth to wipe them clean, first on
the left... and then on the right. She then washed her
hands and smiled down at... Jordan's crotch!
"Mrrrk!" That was Jordan, tugging on her wrist cuff,
squirming under the broad, taut straps, and trying to kick her
"Nrrr!" That was Robin, shaking her ball-gagged head.
Leda shifted her smile to her BFF. "What?"
"Nrrr!" Robin reiterated, then padded around the table until she
was gagged-face-to-ungagged-face with Leda.
"I told you to stay over there," Leda objected, pointing at the
far side of the table.
"Nrrr!" Robin repeated.
Still smiling, Leda spun Robin around, parted her hair,
unbuckled the ball-gag's strap, re-secured the buckle on the
strap's first hole, then spun her back around until they were
once again face-to-face. "What?" the smiling Swan once
By this time Robin had experience expelling a slack-strap
ball-gag from her mouth, especially when its buckle was secured
on the strap's first hole. She did so, and the glistening
silicon-rubber sphere bounced on the armbinder-retaining-straps
crisscrossing her chest above her harness-strap framed boobs.
Robin licked her lips and locked eyes with her BFF. "Don't
you dare shave her bush," she huffed.
Jordan lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Cupcake is
coming to my defense?
"Why not?" Leda purred.
"In the first place," Robin explained, "it's a very pretty
bush—lush, dark, and, uh, aesthetic—and it would be a crime
against damselhood to have to wait for it to grow back."
"I wouldn't say crime," Leda chuckled, "but I get your
point. Anything else?"
"You've dug your hole deep enough," Robin continued.
"She's gonna kill you when the two of you get back to
work. Metaphorically speaking, of course."
"I suppose you're right," Leda agreed. "She probably
thinks killing would be too good for me. But of course
she's gonna take her revenge, silly. That's how the game
is played. I might as well dig a deep hole."
Robin sighed. "Oh. I see. I knew that.
Or know that. Or... whatever." Robin gazed
at Jordan, who gazed back. She didn't seem as angry as
before, but Robin realized that was probably temporary.
Leda's smile broadened as she leaned close and planted a quick
kiss on her captive BFF's cheek. "You're new to all this,
Top. That's why I'm teaching you."
Robin smiled (and blushed). "For which I am very grateful,
Back on the table, Jordan rolled her eyes and sighed. Disgusting!
"Anyway," Leda continued, turning her smile back to Jordan's
crotch, "I wasn't contemplating shaving such a pretty pussy, not
completely. I thought I might try my hand at a
little lady-scaping." She turned back to Robin.
"What do you think of a nice heart-shape?"
Robin considered the proposition (and Jordan's crotch).
"You think you're up to it? Her thicket is so dense and
curly. It would be easy to botch. A bramble bush
like that probably won't hold any shape very well,
unless you give her a preliminary crew-cut and work with
that. And I don't think it would look anywhere near as
good as it does now, regardless."
"Hmm..." Leda returned to gazing (and smiling) at the bush
in question. "You're probably right, Cupcake." Her smile
brightened. "I could try topiary."
Robin giggled. "A nice swan?"
"Mrrrrr!" Jordan was back to being her former furious,
naked, leather-bound, and bit-gagged (with rose-pink panties
Leda laughed, stooped, and lifted a small, dark-pink
plastic bottle with a black cap from the cardboard box for her
BFF and the prisoner-of-the-table to inspect.
"Early-Harvest Raspberry Eau de Toilette, from The Body
Shop," she explained, reading the label aloud. "Available
at a mall near you or online."
Jordan's eyes popped wide. "NRRRR!"
"Yes," Leda purred as she clicked off the cap of the bottle,
revealing the head of a pump-dispenser. She spritzed the
inside of her left wrist, waved it in the air, then gave it a
delicate sniff. "Wow. Pretty pungent." She
held her wrist so her BFF could take a delicate sniff of her
Robin's button nose wrinkled. "I'll say.
"Yes," Leda agreed, "the sort of thing a tween girl
experimenting with her femininity might try, before she learns
that less is more and fruit fragrances belong in ice cream
shops." Still smiling, she gave Jordan's pubic bush a
generous spritz... followed by a second spritz... followed by a
"NRRRRRRR!" Jordan fought her inescapable bonds with all
Now, the overpowering scent of raspberries hung in the air of
the stall, but Leda was far from finished!
The smiling Evil Genius of Girly Torture continued spritzing
Jordan's helpless, writhing body, including her freshly shaved
legs and armpits, her flat tummy, and her breasts. She was
nice enough to drape the still slightly damp washcloth across
Jordan's gagged, furious face to protect her eyes, then
continued the aerosol assault by spritzing Tomboy's outstretched
arms, shoulders and neck, and her long, tousled, brown
I wonder if it stings? Robin considered as Leda
delivered additional (superfluous) and final spritzes to
Jordan's armpits. They are freshly shaved,
like her legs. The way the captive was squirming it
was impossible to tell. I bet it stings... a little.
"Phew!" Leda chuckled as she reloaded everything she'd used to
turn Jordan into a giant, freshly shaved, overripe raspberry
back into the cardboard box, then picked it up and headed for
the stall door. "We'll let her marinate for awhile."
"Uh, okay." This time Robin was quick enough to
follow. She certainly didn't want to remain at the scene
of what future generations would no doubt be refer to as The
Great Raspberry Atrocity. "If this was a cartoon, pink,
wavy lines would be rising off Tomboy's body and forming a
drifting pink cloud up in the rafters."
Leda smiled. "My work here is done," she declaimed as the
BFF's crossed the stall threshold.
"Promise me you'll never do that to me, Swan," Robin
demanded (begged) as Leda closed and latched the stall door,
then led the way across the barn to the person door set in the
"Oh, certainly not, Cupcake," Leda answered solemnly as she
opened the door and held it for her naked and leather-bound
BFF. "Not with raspberries, anyway."
"Strawberries." She favored Robin with a truly terrifying,
truly sinister smile. "All these products are
available in strawberry."
"Leda!" Robin whined.
That was the last thing Jordan heard before the person door
closed with a bang and she was alone in the stall, naked,
helpless, and raspberry-scented. She heaved a tragic sigh
(momentarily roiling the raspberry fumes rising off her body)
and settled in to wait for The Great Raspberry to accept Leda's
sacrifice and escort her to Raspberry Valhalla. Either
that or Mother will appear and release me. I hope she
brings a gasmask. I hope she brings two gasmasks.
Jordan was in a bit of a quandary. She was proud of her
metalworking skills and creativity, but was afraid she might not
be up to the task of designing and crafting a Horrible Fate truly
worthy of the occasion, a technological marvel of restraint
and torment that could extract full retribution for
something as massive as Leda's Raspberry Transgression. Maybe
Cody will have some ideas, she thought. Between
the two of us we ought to be able to think of something.
|| Chapter 15
indeed, Miriam who strolled into the barn approximately an hour
after the departure of The Monkey Twins and released her
daughter from the massage table.
Being Jordan's maturely hot maternal unit and Robin and Leda's
Wicked Witch/Mistress, Miriam began the process of healing by
ignoring the invisible raspberry stink wafting from her beloved
daughter. She held her breath as much as possible, of
course, but continued smiling, kept any snide and/or snarky
comments to herself, and generally did her best to camouflage
both her amusement at the situation in general and her
respect for Leda's creative perfidy. She did nothing,
however, to hide her pride in her beautiful daughter's strength
and resilience, even in the face of raspberry-scented horror.
Jordan requested the loan of a shovel so she could dig a pair of
shallow graves about a thousand yards into the woods.
Apparently, an hour of "marinating" in the barn had convinced
her that swift and immediate revenge was her best course of
action, as opposed to elaborate, premeditated retribution at
some unspecified future date. Her mother refused, of
course, and Jordan hadn't really been serious. Obviously,
protracted retaliation would be much better, no matter
how much delayed. Jordan allowed herself to be led back to
the house for a much needed shower and shampoo. Or
possibly several showers (with lye soap and a loofah, if
available) and the expenditure of an entire bottle of
When they arrived at the kitchen, Leda and Robin were nowhere to
be seen. Miriam commanded that Jordan go take her shower
and leave the Monkey Twins alone (wherever they were
hiding). Then, she should go play with the dogs until
supper, but only after her shower. Otherwise, the
hounds would run away into the woods if she tried to come near
"Very funny, Mother," Jordan huffed, then stomped (meaning
padded, see also "flounced) off to de-raspberry herself.
Miriam managed (with difficulty) not to double over with
laughter, then composed herself and set about dinner
|| Chapter 15
Meanwhile, down in the dungeon...
"I still say it's all your fault and Miriam has no
right to punish me too," Robin complained. "This is
mass punishment, and that's against the Geneva
Leda lifted an amused eyebrow. "There's a Geneva
Convention governing the conduct of erotic BDSM games?"
"No!" Robin huffed. "I mean... there ought to be,
but... shut up."
"Okay," Leda agreed, smiling sweetly.
Robin scowled at her BFF. Leda's nonchalance was
infuriating... although she had to admit that the sight of
Leda, her lover and teacher-in-all-things-top, was hot,
especially as she was at the moment.
The Monkey Twins were both naked, incarcerated in the Miriam's
dungeon, and locked in identical hardware. To wit: (1)
their ankles were locked in heavy duty, close-fitting shackles
separated by twelve inches of hobbling links; (2) their wrists
locked in heavy duty, close-fitting manacles separated by
eighteen inches of reach-restricting links; and (3) their necks
locked in two of Miriam's collection of three steel
cable-collars. The long chain tethering Robin's collar was
permanently attached to the dungeon wall by means of the heavy
iron ring set in the concrete, and Leda's collar-chain was
temporarily attached by means of a heavy duty padlock snapped
through the same ring.
Robin and Leda had entered the kitchen, giggling like naughty
schoolgirls. Robin was still naked and armbinder/harness
bound and Leda resplendent in her pretty sundress.
Miriam smiled (as usual) when the girls entered the kitchen,
then sniffed the air. Simply having been in the Massage
Stall while Leda spritzed vast quantities of raspberry-scented
eau de toilette on Poor Jordan, it was inevitable there
would be some blow-back, and there had been. Both
Twins smelled like raspberries. Miriam stepped close to
Leda and looked down into the cardboard box in Leda's
arms. Her smile faded and she locked eyes with the
suddenly nervous Swan.
"What did you do?" Miriam demanded.
Leda had no choice but to confess, and she did so. Her
deposition was lengthy and detailed.
Miriam shook her head sadly, then shifted her profoundly
disappointed and penetrating gaze to Robin. "You helped,
Robin blinked in surprise (and blushed). "No, no,
no! How could I?" She gave her inescapable leather
bonds a brief, explanatory struggle, for emphasis. She
also batted her eyes and bit her lower lip. She was the
very image of naked, innocent helplessness.
Miriam wasn't fooled. She continued staring into Robin's
"Uh... okay... I watched," Robin admitted.
What followed was Miriam ordering Leda to strip, then remove
Robin's harness, armbinder, and ball-gag. Then, the two
miscreants were to remain in place and wait. The Wicked
Witch/Mistress of Cedar Wind Farm then stomped from the kitchen.
Leda followed Miriam's orders. The naked BFFs were
standing with their hands atop with their eyes properly downcast
when Miriam returned.
Robin watched as Miriam locked one of her steel cable-collars
around Leda's neck, then gave the long, attached chain a
tug. "Come," she ordered, and marched the now equally
naked Monkey Twins down the stairs to the basement.
There, Miriam outfitted Leda and Robin with their present
manacles and shackles. Afterwards, both house guests were
led into the dungeon, the far end of Leda's collar-chain was
padlocked to the iron ring set in the far wall, Robin's neck was
locked in the dungeon's existing cable-collar, and Robin and
Leda were now dungeon guests.
And then, with the usual squealing hinges, turning locks, and
thunking of the steel door's bolt, Miriam made her
departure and the BFFs were abandoned... alone... sitting
together on the dungeon's sleeping-pad... naked, chained, and
languishing at the Wicked Witch/Mistress' pleasure. But at
least they were together!
"I still don't get it," Robin huffed. "This is mean."
"Oh, Cupcake," Leda chuckled. "You're so cute when you're
Robin pouted in response.
Leda leaned close and planted a kiss on her fellow captive's
lips. "Allow me to explain."
"You are my teacher," Robin groused. "Explain
Leda grinned. "Miriam has a hard and fast rule for
multi-day visits like this."
"No kinky stuff on the last day," Leda explained.
Robin's pout morphed into a wry smile, then she lifted her hands
and rattled her chains. "Including bondage?"
Leda's smile was unchanged. "It isn't the last day yet,
Cupcake," she noted.
"That would be tomorrow," Robin sighed, then her expression
brightened. "Oh, I get it. She's locking us
in the dungeon so Jordan won't be able to murder us
once she's released from the barn."
"That's part of it," Leda purred, "but she also enjoys locking
charming, attractive, naked women—such as ourselves—in her
Robin rolled her eyes (and grinned). "You think we're
stuck down here 'til tomorrow?"
Leda shrugged. "Prob'ly."
Robin sighed, again. "A pity. Naked. Locked in
steel chains. And absolutely nothin' to do."
Leda also sighed. "Yeah."
Both BFFs heaved an additional simultaneous, well coordinated
sigh... then pounced! That is, the prisoners
pounced on each other. It was a mutual pounce.
Much kissing, breast mauling, manual exploration, and boinking
ensued. As well as a great deal of chain rattling and
clinking. Their inescapable steel restraints were
something of an impediment, but they managed.
Around sunset they had a visitor.
The steel door's bolt was thrown back—Thunk!—the door
opened—Eeeeee!—the dungeon alcove's barred gate was
unlocked and opened—Eeeeee!—and the Monkey Twins beheld
Jordan standing before them, hands on hips and an evil smile
curling her lips. She was wearing boots, jeans, and a
tank-top. Oddly, she was not accompanied by a
cloud of raspberry fumes.
Robin and Leda cuddled together, looking as naked, helpless, and
pathetic as possible. The prisoners noted that Jordan's
skin might be a little pink, but it was difficult to be sure in
the dim dungeon light. They independently surmised the
perceived pinkness was probably the result of Jordan scrubbing
herself raw in the shower.
Jordan turned and strolled back to the basement... then returned
to the dungeon with a tray. She set in on the dungeon
floor at the foot of the sleeping pad, then, hands once again on
hips, glowered at the cowering captives.
Robin and Leda gazed down at the tray. It held a large
plate loaded with various sandwich halves, a couple of apples,
and two cold, moisture-beaded cans of diet soda—Sprite for Robin
and Dr. Pepper for Leda.
"Don't worry," Jordan purred as she spun on her heels and
returned to the barred gate's threshold. "I didn't spit on
Leda glanced down at the tray, then smiled at Jordan. "No
raspberry cobbler for desert?"
Jordan stared at Leda.
Leda smiled at Jordan.
Robin wished there was a large rock she could crawl under and
"Epic," Jordan said, finally. "It may take months to
design and fabricate something suitable, but my revenge will be
epic." She shifted her furious gaze to Robin. "And
that means you too, Cupcake."
With that, Jordan closed the barred gate—Eeeeee!—turned
the key in the lock—Click!—stepped into the basement and
closed the steel door—Eeeeee!—and was gone.
Robin sighed, then turned on her BFF. "Are you—mrrrf!"
"Wait for it!" Leda interrupted, quickly placing her right hand
over Robin's mouth.
Thunk! It was the sound of the steel door's bolt
being thrown, of course.
Leda grinned and withdrew her hand. "You were saying?"
"Are you insane?" Robin demanded. "Are you out of
your freakin' mind? Do you have a death wish?"
"Oh, Cupcake," Leda chuckled, "you have so much to learn about
how this game is played. Let's eat." She grabbed a
ham sandwich-half and took a big bite.
Robin stared at her BFF's chewing, smiling face, then shook her
head in disgust, grabbed a turkey sandwich-half, and took a bite
of her own. I guess I do have a lot to learn,
she mused as the meal continued.
Afterwards, they stowed the tray at Miriam's prescribed position
next to the barred gate to await its eventual pickup.
"Is there some rule about having to wait a half hour?" Robin
inquired, smiling at her fellow prisoner.
"That's for swimming," Leda answered, "and I think it's
bullshit, anyway." She was also smiling.
"Oh," Robin nodded.
And then... as before... they pounced!
It was many hours 'til dawn.
|| Chapter 15
day—Robin, Leda, and Jordan's last day at Cedar Wind Farm—was,
indeed, fun-filled but bondage free, as per Miriam's standing
decree. The Monkey Twins spent the final night together in
the Tower Bedroom (making out, boinking, and generally
continuing to take their relationship to a whole new
level). Come the dawn, everybody enjoyed a tasty and
filling breakfast in the kitchen. And then, after tearful
goodbyes with Miriam and the wolfhounds (who seemed especially
sorrowful to find Jordan departing), they hit the road.
Actually, only the humans were tearful. The hounds
frantically wagged their tails, panted, and slobbered, but they
did whine a little as Jordan's Jeep pulled away.
Sitting in the back seat next to her BFF (and lover!) Robin
steeled herself for the long, boring drive back to town... and
was astonished to discover that they were only about a half hour
from the city limits! Leda explained that on the trip out
they'd driven her around and taken "the scenic route," as she
put it. This was for purposes of Robin's disorientation and
to make her think she was isolated and miles and miles in
the middle of nowhere. As Robin had been tape-gagged and
blindfolded with her wrists cuffed behind her back at the time,
the despicable subterfuge had worked.
"Very funny," Robin pouted, then completed the rest of the
unexpectedly short trip in a huff. Actually, she
admitted to herself, it was a pretty funny
prank. I'll have to get back at them, somehow.
Robin was coming to realize that tit-for-tat was an important
element of this new and wonderful game she was now playing.
On the bright side, half hour drives meant future visits to
Miriam and the Wolfhounds wouldn't require hours of wasted time
on the road, wouldn't burn a lot of gas, and could be more
And thus it was that Robin Clery's initial experiments in
imprisonment were concluded—she met Jordan, Miriam, and the
Wolfhounds—lost a BFF roommate but gained a BFF lover—and her
education as a top began.
|| Chapter 15