awkward to conduct a proper Early Tea when the two participants
of highest social rank aren't eating (and are wearing bikinis),
and the rest are eating (and are naked and box-tied
with their hands encased in layers of stretch-wrap and white
duct-tape). There are few precedents and the accepted
etiquette references are of no help whatsoever on the
subject. But somehow, Bernadette, Paige, and the
youngsters (their precious prisoners) soldiered through.
Eventually, the last of the plates were cleared of yummy
comestibles and the last rum drink sucked dry through its thin
"Okay, Mother," Alice muttered. "No more excuses.
Why did your roar out here without any warning and ruin
our Games? You know we look forward to The Games all
year... every year."
"Yeah," Chelsea agreed, nodding at her sister. "What she
The remaining members of both teams watched their team captains
with keen interest (and poorly disguised amusement).
Clearly, Paige was also interested (and she was overtly enjoying
the Corbyn family "confrontation").
"Actually," Bernadette purred, "we discussed my reasons for
being here, last Christmas." She sipped the last of her
drink. "My presence here shouldn't be a surprise at all."
Alice and Chelsea exchanged a confused look... then Alice
remembered. "Mother!" she muttered. "We told
you! Fashion Week in London is fine. Christmas in
Vienna is fine. Skiing the Alps is fine... only not at
Innsbruck or one of the other tourist traps... but lounging
around an English castle in the middle of nowhere for a full
month, making nice with your stodgy old friends? Not
"And the same goes for that stupid resort in the Caribbean,"
"Damosel Island is not a 'stupid resort'," Bernadette
"Hah!" the sisters said in unison.
"We looked it up!" Chelsea crowed triumphantly.
"The Damosel Island website talks about snorkeling, deep sea
fishing, and eco-tourism," Alice added. "Also,
all-you-can-eat shrimp buffets."
"Boring!" the sisters chorused.
"Granted, their public website is both plebeian and innocuous,"
"Possibly by design," Paige purred quietly.
"Certainly, by design," Bernadette agreed, also quietly.
"Boring!" the sisters reiterated.
"I like shrimp," Chelsea huffed, "but all-I-can-eat? Every
day? For a month?" She shuddered and shook
"Tydwell Castle and Damosel Island are not boring,"
Bernadette responded. "Tell them," she said to Paige.
"Tydwell Castle and Damosel Island are not boring," Paige said,
perfectly deadpan, then left her chair, gathered the empty
plates and glasses, and carried them to the serving cart.
Meanwhile, Ivy, Betty, Sophie, and Ripley were exchanging
furtive, slightly perplexed looks. Finally, Betty caught
Alice's eye with an inquisitorial smile.
"Later," Alice stated.
"No, dear," Bernadette purred, "tell your friends how you turned
down a month long vacation in either England or the
Caribbean." she indicated all present with a sweep of her
right arm. "A month-long vacation for all of you."
"England?" Sophie sighed. "I've always wanted to see
Ripley rolled her eyes. "Buckingham Palace, the changing
of the guard, and tea with the Queen? No thank you.
I don't look good in silly hats."
"Actually," Betty said, "I've always wanted to tour the
Cotswolds and the Lake District."
Ivy frowned. "Isn't the Lake District part of the
Cotswolds?" The others turned to her and she shrugged her
cord-yoked shoulders. "I watched a travel show on
PBS. Sue me."
"The Lake District is further to the north, dear," Bernadette
smiled, "in Cumbria."
Betty shrugged again. "Oh. Now that I think of it,
maybe they were in different episodes... of the show, I
mean. It's been a while."
"Dork!" Ivy jibbed her friend.
Betty considered her grinning teammate with great dignity.
"I am not a dork. I am a PBS Nerd, and proud of
it. I have the t-shirt."
At that point, Paige stood, produced a pair of trauma scissors
(from somewhere) and padded behind Sophie. The other
captives watched as Paige quickly and deftly untied Sophie's
box-tie-cords... then used the scissors to carefully slice
through the layers of duct-tape and stretch-wrap mummifying the
smiling blonde's hands.
Once Sophie was completely free, Paige pointed to the serving
cart. "Push the cart to the kitchen and load the
dishwasher for me. Would you please?"
Sophie went up on her toes and kissed Paige's smiling
lips. "Of course." She pushed the cart towards the
Lounge doorway—"Eek!"—then giggled. Paige had hurried her
on her way with a playful swat on her naked rump.
Ripley was next. Soon, her box-tie was untied and her
"Coil all of this cord for me, would you?"
"Okay," Ripley agreed warily, "but not if you spank my
butt." She set to work, starting with her own former bonds
and making sure the butt in question was out of Paige's range.
Next, Paige freed Betty... and then Ivy. The only
remaining prisoners were Alice and Chelsea, who exchanged
expressions of exasperated angst as Paige returned to her comfy
chair, sat, and smiled.
While their naked teammates finished coiling and stacking their
former bonds and disposing of the ruined stretch-wrap and
duct-tape hand-sheathes, the naked and still bound and
flipperized Corbyn sisters heaved simultaneous and truly piteous
sighs... then focused on their bikini-clad maternal
unit. "Mother!" they whined in perfect unison.
"Ripley, Betty," Paige said, still smiling, "would you handle
volume control for me, please?"
Ripley and Betty exchanged smirks, then shrugged.
"Sure," Ripley answered.
"Why not?" Betty agreed.
"Don't you dare, you traitor!" Alice warned Betty, twisting her
upper body and tugging on her bonds. "Mrrrpfh!" The
perforated ball formerly around her neck was back in her pouting
mouth and Betty was buckling the strap at the nape of her neck,
under her hair and tight enough to make her cheeks bulge.
Chelsea was also unhappy. "No!—Nrrrf!" Ivy had
restored her gag and was buckling it equally tight.
The naked, bound, and now ball-gagged sisters shifted their
disgruntled, glowering gazes to their smiling mother.
Paige might be dishing out the orders, but Bernadette was the
center of power.... the petite, bikini-clad, smiling center of
Bernadette affectionately gazed at her glowering offspring with
serene, uh, serenity.
Paige pointed first at Alice... then at Chelsea.
"Aftercare!" she ordered, and clapped her hands. "Clap-clap!"
Smiling broadly, Betty and Ripley took firm grips of their team
captains' arms and started leading them away—but both Alice and
Chelsea shook off their handlers, drew themselves up to their
full heights, and stomped (padded) to their tragic fates, like
the hero marching to the guillotine at the end of A Tale of
Two Cities. They were very brave. It
was moving. Their teammates and Paige and Bernadette
managed not to laugh.
"I'll send Sophie out to help when she's finished in the
kitchen," Paige said to Ivy.
Ivy's reply was a broad smile and a sweeping bow... then she
scampered after the others. Paige and Bernadette were
Paige focused on Bernadette. "You realize, of course, that
absolutely nothing has been resolved."
Bernadette smiled at her old friend. "You mean, soon the
girls will realize that, once again raise the topic of future
vacations, and once again I'll be the center of attention?"
Paige rolled her eyes. "I ought to tie you to my bed and
tickle you silly," she purred.
"But if you did that," Bernadette countered, "the girls would be
"There is that," Paige conceded, then padded close to her
beloved former employer and current landlord and loomed over
her tiny, smiling form. "But if I gagged you well enough,
they wouldn't hear your screams, would they?"
Still smiling, Bernadette gazed up at the menacing (sort of)
redhead and blinked her big brown eyes. "There is that,"
she acknowledged. "Or... we could take another swim."
Paige stared at the smiling Bernadette for several seconds...
then turned and padded towards the doorway. "Do whatever
you want. I need to start on the barbecue. And I
need to get one of the girls to launder all of the dirty
Bernadette smiled, then turned her gaze to the picture
windows. Out on the lawn, in the full sun, her daughters
were being ruthlessly moisturized by Betty and
Ripley. Alice and Chelsea writhed on the grass with their
respective teammates straddling their bodies and massaging their
tan skin, rubbing some sort of oily lotion into their
shoulders... necks... ball-gagged faces... abdomens...
Ivy was sitting nearby, her legs crossed in a semi-lotus,
smiling, watching, moisturizing herself, and ready to spell one
of the others if they needed a break.
Poor things, Bernie mused... then stood and padded
towards the French doors leading out onto the patio. She'd
decided she would take another swim, and this time
there wouldn't be any horny redheads with grabby hands and
leering smiles hijacking her recreational agenda.
| Chapter 9
was a big hit. Everyone ate their fill of burgers,
hotdogs, and grilled chicken, as well as potato, tossed, and
fruit salad. Alice and Chelsea remained naked, box-tied,
flipperized, and wearing ball-gag necklaces (much to their
dissatisfaction) and their teammates were back in their bikinis
and neither bound nor gagged. The lavender-purple and
aqua-green bikinis were all freshly laundered, of course, and
the girls took turns shoveling Paige's delicious cuisine into
their team captains' pouting mouths, each feeder with their own
gloating and teasing style, of course. Sophie giggled,
Ripley gloated, Betty teased, and Ivy was totally
nonchalant. Bernadette and Paige watched the fun as they
Before the barbecue, the girls had had plenty of opportunity to
discuss The Great Vacation Dispute among themselves. They
even removed Alice and Chelsea's ball-gags and grilled them (so
to speak) for additional information. Unfortunately, the
Corbyn sisters didn't know much more about Tydwell Castle and
the Damosel Island Resort than they'd already divulged.
Anyway, the girls gossiped as they helped Paige with the
preparations, and when the delicious meal was over, everybody
gathered around the fire pit built into the deck. Paige
was the only exception. She was busy cleaning up.
(Sophie and Ivy had offered to help, but were refused.)
The final red-orange glow of a spectacular California sunset
competed with the dancing flames of the fire to light the girls'
and Bernadette's nearly naked (and the sisters' naked)
bodies as they gazed into the flames. Minutes passed in
companionable silence... And then...
"Well, get on with it!" Chelsea huffed.
"Get on with what, darling?" Bernadette inquired with a sweet
"In her tactless and artless way," Alice drawled, "Chel is
demanding you tell us why we should want to waste a month of our
precious time in an English castle or at a tacky island
resort crowded with white-haired retirees."
"That's it," Chelsea confirmed, "except for the tactless and
artless part. And it was a request, not a
The sisters stuck out their tongues at each other and their
teammates and mother smiled.
Bernadette sipped from her wineglass before answering.
"Jane Tydwell is a dear old friend. She's also
fabulously wealthy, and it's important that you meet Jane and
her daughter, even if you are writers—of which I am very
proud—and have no interest in following me into business."
"But couldn't we meet them, tour the castle, maybe spend
the night, then go to London?"
Bernadette set down her glass. "Tydwell Castle is
historically significant and full of interesting, historical,
and gorgeous furnishings. It's one of the last
significant English estates owned and occupied by a peer, not
locked up in a trust, and without busloads of gawking
tourists coming and going to pay the bills. Tydwell Castle
doesn't even have a gift shop. It will take much more than
a day to appreciate all that Castle Tydwell has to offer.
And finally, Lady Jane and Cressida are wonderful people
and I insist you meet them."
Alice and Chelsea exchanged a look, sighed, then turned back to
"But... London," Chelsea muttered.
"We'll see London," Bernadette smiled. "I promise."
"And everybody gets to come?" Alice confirmed, nodding at their
"If they wish," Bernadette confirmed.
"Oh, they wish!" Ivy laughed, then noticed the
stares of her fellow non-Corbyns. "What? Tell me
you don't want to spend a month in a real English castle, I dare
"It would have been polite to wait until we all made our
feelings known," Betty said primly, then turned to Bernadette
and smiled. "By which I mean hell yes! Thank
Sophie and Ripley were grinning and nodding their heads.
"I've always wanted to see the British Museum," Ripley sighed, "and
the Tate Gallery."
"I've always dreamed of being a princess in a great big castle,"
"Yeah, Princess Airhead," Chelsea jibbed.
Sophie pulled herself to her full height (5' 2") and dismissed
Chelsea with a disdainful glance. "Silence, peasant," she
All present laughed.
"It's settled then," Bernadette grinned. "I'll contact
Lady Jane and tell her we're accepting her standing
invitation. Does everyone here have an up-to-date
Everyone nodded or blinked uncertainly.
"If the answer is no," Bernadette continued, "see to it.
I'll take care of all the other arrangements."
"You mean your already overworked staff will take care of all
the arrangements," Paige chuckled as she joined the group.
"I take it next year's games are off and the invasion of England
Bernadette smiled and nodded.
"What about Damosel Island and all that shrimp?" Chelsea
"It will still be there when we return from England," Bernadette
"Wonderful," Paige drawled. "Okay, ladies." "Clap-clap!"
"Everyone inside. The bats are trying to keep the
mosquitoes at bay, but you're all tempting targets. Also,
it's starting to get chilly."
"Or maybe too chilly for bikinis," Alice amended.
The group agreed, rose to their feet, and carried their
wineglasses, highball glasses, or beer bottles into the mansion.
The last of the red clouds were fading fast, the first of the
stars had already emerged, and various species of bat were,
indeed, doing their fluttering best to rid the skies of
| Chapter 9
totally unacceptable! Totally!
Once they were inside and comfortably ensconced in the Main
Lounge, Mother Corbyn still refused to tell her darling, devoted
daughters anything substantial about Tydwell Castle.
They still had only a frustratingly vague idea exactly why the
place would be such a blast.
As for Damosel Island, it was relegated to the distant future,
to be visited after Tydwell Castle, Lady Tydwell, and
her daughter, meaning not next summer, but the summer
after at the very earliest. Anyway, Alice, Chelsea, and
their friends charmed, cajoled and tried every trick in their
respective books to get Bernadette to divulge what was so really
special about the castle, but to no avail.
"Will we get to cosplay Downton Abby?" Sophie asked at
one point. Mrs. B's only answer was a smile and a shake of
her head. "Oh," Sophie sighed in profound disappointment.
Paige was no help either. All she did was sit there in her
white bikini, sip her drink, and smile.
Alice and Chelsea exchanged a significant (but furtive) glance,
and at their first opportunity had a clandestine and whispered
conversation. And over the course of the evening, similar
secret discussions happened between the Team Captains and their
troops. Bernadette and Paige noticed nothing (apparently).
Finally,... sometime around midnight... the group made the
collective decision to retire... and the mansion settled into
| Chapter 9
Livingston might be in her sixties, but she was physically fit
and a formidable opponent; however, the combined Team
Alice and Team Chelsea Bedroom Invasion Force were sure that six
equally fit, battle tested, and bikini-clad amazons would be
able to handle her (literally), and especially if they pounced
on her while she was sound asleep. And that was what they
The joint team strike force eased open Paige's bedroom door...
tiptoed inside... eased the door closed behind them... then
tiptoed to the bed.
Paige was, indeed, asleep. She was also naked. The
retired redhead's habit of sleeping in the buff was known to the
Corbyn Sisters, but not their guests. The bedroom was only
semi-dark, thanks to the moonlight beaming through the open
drapes and a nightlight greenly glowing through the open door of
the attached bathroom. The poised attackers paused to make
their final mental preparations (and appreciate their target's
toned, lightly freckled, luscious body as Paige lay... sprawled
and semi-exposed among the tangled top-covers of her bed... then
executed their cunning plan.
Paige came awake to find several more-or-less naked women
holding her down on the bed! And one of them was sitting
on her stomach with her knees nudging her armpits, lower legs
pressed against her ribs, and was stuffing a ball of foam into
her sputtering mouth! And the ball was followed by a wide
strip of what felt like Microfoam tape! Paige struggled
and fought, but it was already too late! Loops of cord
were tightening around her wrists and ankles, and she was being
stretched and lashed to the mattress in a stringent
Despite the limited illumination, Paige was able to identify her
attackers early in the assault. Sophie's giggle and
Ripley's signature "sinister grin" as she leaned forward and
smoothed her tape-gag were irrefutable confirmation. Ripley
was the one sitting on her chest and gagging her mouth and
Sweet Sophie was binding her right wrist. Betty was
binding her left wrist and Ivy her right ankle. Chelsea
was binding her left ankle and, apparently, Alice was
supervising, smiling down at Paige from the left side of the
bed, her hands resting on her hips.
"Mrrrf!" Paige complained again, this time with the imperious
dignity appropriate to the occasion. Twenty or more flat,
uniformly tight (but not too tight) strands had been
wrapped around each of her wrists and ankles and knotted where
her groping and/or fluttering couldn't possibly reach anything
important, and doubled strands bound her extremities to the four
corners of the bed, tied to the bed-rail and/or corner posts
somewhere near the floor and tight enough to dimple the edge of
the mattress. Her bonds were the same white paracord she'd
procured for the abandoned Bondage Olympics, and she knew the
stuff was also known as "550-cord," a reference to its 550-pound
breaking point. Obviously, she wasn't going anywhere.
And then, Paige's fingers and hands disappeared under layers of
white stretch-wrap... followed by layers of white T-REX
duct-tape! She didn't bother offering any serious
resistance, knowing that if she'd fought the flipperization
process, all she'd have been able to accomplish would be ruining
the neat, uniform, pattern of the overlapping wrappings, and
nobody likes messy flippers.
Anyway... Paige was stretched, helpless, and naked. Alice
turned on the reading lamp on the bedside table, and Paige found
herself surrounded by her half-dozen bikini-clad, smiling
captors (except for Ripley, who was still sitting on her
tummy). The youngsters were very pleased with
themselves. They were adorable. Paige wanted to hug
and kiss every one of them, but at the moment that wasn't
Betty and Ivy pulled the tangled top-sheet and light summer
blanket out from under Paige's spreadeagled body and tossed them
aside, while Ripley climbed off of Paige's body and sat on the
left side of the king-size bed in a cross-legged, semi-lotus
pose. Sophie settled onto the right side in a similar
fashion... then both members of Team Chelsea rested a palm on
Paige's taut, stretched tummy. Alice and Chelsea were
standing on the left and right sides of the mattress,
respectively, and close to the head. Now both sets of
hands were on their hips, and they were smiling
(leering/gloating) down at their fellow resident of St. Ignatius
Island. Ivy and Betty were at the foot of the bed and were
also smiling (leering/gloating).
"We're going to make Mother reveal everything she's so obviously
hiding about Tydwell Castle," Alice explained, "and we
didn't want you to hear her screaming, come roaring in, and
spoil the fun."
Chelsea nodded at Sophie and Ripley. "My loyal teammates
volunteered to remain here and make sure you don't escape."
"We figure four of us are more than enough to handle a munchkin
like Mother," Alice added, then turned out the reading light,
plunging the bedroom into its former semi-darkness.
"Mrrrmfh!" Paige objected. She had to protect Poor
Bernie! And the least they could do was take her with them
so she could watch!
Meanwhile, Alice, Chelsea, Betty, and Ivy leaned close and
kissed various parts of their prisoner's anatomy and wished her
good night... then departed, easing the door carefully closed
Paige heaved a gagged sigh. Well... this is
unexpected. And oh-by-the-way, Sophie and Ripley's
hands were moving! That is, the hands were slowly,
gently gliding across Paige's stretched abdomen... from the base
of her semi-flattened breasts... to the top margin of her dark
red pubic bush! She found herself shivering in
response. She couldn't help it. Also, the foam ball
filling her mouth and the tape sealing her lips prevented her
from ordering them to stop and branding the blonde and brunette
as the scamps, scallywags, rogues, and rapscallions that they so
They wouldn't dare bring her to orgasm! Paige
closed her eyes and continued shivering. They wouldn't
The hands continued slipping and sliding, and the youngsters
Sophie yawned, politely covering her mouth with her free hand.
The gentle, teasing massage continued...
And then it stopped.
Paige opened her eyes and lifted her head. Sophie and
Ripley had still reclined against her sides, and now, by all
appearances, they were asleep! The very
nerve! She considered squirming and mewling and waking
them up, but the blonde and her "Goth" companion had had a busy
day. Their hands were still resting on her tummy, their
faces resting against her outer thighs, and their bodies
snuggled against and/or atop her legs. Paige closed her
eyes, again, figuring she might as well go back to sleep.
Paige's last thoughts were about the diminutive matriarch of
this branch of the Corbyn clan and the assault that was
currently underway (or even over) in Bernadette's
Bernie... you're on your own.
| Chapter 9
Bernadette's eyes popped wide! She was under attack!
Someone was sitting on her stomach and pinning her hands to
either side of her head! A strong hand was pressed against
her lips and lower face, forcing a ball of foam or sponge into
her mouth, and stretching a strip of some sort of tape across
her lips! She was gagged!
It was Bernadette's habit to sleep in one of her extensive and
expensive collection of designer negligées, and such
was the case tonight. It was a whisper-thin, lacy
babydoll, with spaghetti straps and matching panties. The
lower hem barely reached her upper thighs, the entire ensemble
left very little to the imagination, and was a very
pretty shade of coral-pink (what there was of it).
The reading lamps on
the left and right bedside tables clicked on and Bernadette
could now see that her attackers were wearing lavender-purple
bikinis! No, one of them was wearing a jade-green bikini!
One had very dark skin, but the others had much lighter
complexions, with healthy tans. And there were four of
them! She was sure of it! Four!
Finally, Bernadette came fully awake and realized she'd been
gagged by Ivy and was being pinned to the bed by Betty
and her daughters! Alice and Chelsea! Her
very own offspring!
Bernadette was conflicted. She was outraged, of course,
but at the same time she was a little delighted that the girls
and their friends wanted to play. She decided to go with
the flow, but then, it wasn't much of a decision. Her
attackers were strong!
Bernadette was flipped onto her stomach, her arms pulled behind
her back, her wrists crossed, and thin cord was tightening and
binding them together! Her ankles were next. More
cord was tightening around them! Now, she was
bound hand and foot (as the saying goes), as well as being
And then, Bernadette's bikini-clad captors flipped her
negligee-clad body back over and arranged themselves as
Alice and Chelsea reclined on their sides against a pile of
pillows with their bound and gagged mother reclined on her back
Ivy sat to Bernadette's left with one leg across the captive's
thighs, helping to pin her to the bed.
Betty sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed with Bernadette's
bound feet in her lap and held in her firm grip.
"And now, Mother," Alice said, smiling sweetly, "you're going to
tell us all the juicy secrets about Lady Tydwell and
Tydwell Castle that you're so obviously keeping
concealed. Otherwise... my two charming assistants"—She
indicated her smiling teammates with a graceful gesture—"will
tickle you until you comply."
"What she said," Chelsea said, also smiling. "Except the
part about those two being my assistants. Those two are her
assistants. My assistants are making sure
Paige doesn't rescue you."
"We don't want to tickle you," Ivy sighed, "but she is our
"Yeah," Betty agreed, also sighing. "It's tragic, really."
"Dreadful," Ivy added.
Betty shook her head. "Pitiable. We're very sorry."
Ivy shook her head as well. "We feel terrible about
"Simply terrible," Betty agreed.
Bernadette's big brown eyes were wide as the proverbial
"Oh, that's right," Alice said, "the gag." She reached for
the strip of Microfoam tape sealing her mother's lips, but
Chelsea quickly slapped her hand. "Hey!" Alice complained.
"Leave it on for a while," Chelsea purred. "Let her get in
the mood to talk."
"Oh, good idea, sis," Alice beamed, then shifted her smile to
Ivy and Betty. "Ladies... do your worst."
Ivy and Betty's fingers danced over the soles of Bernadette's
feet (in the case of Betty), and the prisoner's thighs, ribs,
and tummy (in the case of Ivy).
Bernadette bucked, kicked, squirmed, tugged on her bonds, and mewled
through her gag, making herself a moving target and
requiring all four of her captors to tighten their grips to keep
her under control. Her negligée-covered breasts wobbled
and shook as she struggled.
The unconscionable, insidious tickle torture lasted a full
minute before the tickling assistants relented.
Then, Alice gently peeled the tape from the maternal lips and
Chelsea plucked the foam ball from the maternal mouth.
"You girls are in big trouble!" Bernadette huffed,
after swallowing and licking her lips.
"Talk, or they'll do it again," Alice warned.
"What she said," Chelsea agreed.
"We," Ivy said, earning herself an inquisitive stare from the
Corbyn sisters. "We'll do it again," Ivy
clarified. "Betty and I aren't taking the fall for this
attempted palace revolution. We're all doing
"Okay, we," Alice conceded, then refocused on her mother.
"No!" Bernadette barked.
"Do it," Chelsea added.
"No!" Bernadette reiterated.
"Please?" Chelsea begged.
Alice rolled her eyes. "Smooth," she muttered under her
breath, then focused on her assistants. "Do it again," she
ordered, "only harder and longer."
Betty and Ivy exchanged a smile, then climbed off the bed,
releasing their holds on Bernadette in the process.
"Do it yourselves," Betty suggested as she padded to the bedroom
Ivy was close behind. "Yeah. This is enough
skullduggery for one night. Goodnight Mrs. Corbyn."
"Yeah, goodnight Mrs. Corbyn," Betty added.
"You girls are still in big trouble!" Bernadette called
after the bikini-clad duo, "but goodnight!"
"It's hard to find good help these days," Alice muttered as the
bedroom door closed. Chelsea nodded in agreement.
Then, the sisters rearranged the pillows until their maternal
captive was comfortably flat with a pillow under her head,
turned off the reading lights, then snuggled against their
mother's still bound form.
"Goodnight, Mother," Alice said quietly.
"Yeah, g'night, Mommy," Chelsea added.
"Big trouble," Bernadette growled, then leaned close and
kissed the tops of her rebellious daughters' heads.
"Very. Big. Trouble. ... Goodnight."
| Chapter 9