As it turned
out, the "secure reading room" was not downstairs in
Peyton Frazier's fake dungeon, for which Lori was eternally
grateful, but was on the main floor of the maze-like
mansion. The space was severely Modern, square
(approximately 30' on a side) and with good lighting built into
the ceiling. Anyway, the only furnishings were a large,
sturdy table covered with green felt and a comfortable chair
designed for sitting up straight, leaning forward, and reading,
not for lounging. The room was temperature and
humidity controlled, as proclaimed by a prominent thermostat
with an iPad-sized screen mounted next to the door. At
least, Lori assumed it was a thermostat, as it was currently
displaying the messages "68° F" and "40% H". This was a
proper environment for the preservation of antique and valuable
books, so Lori approved. And speaking of books, a quite
large and apparently ancient tome rested on the table,
cradled in a well-padded stand shaped like a shallow "M".
Such stands are designed to put minimal stress on a binding's
spine when the book was open. Also resting on the table
were a pair of white cotton gloves and a large magnifying
glass. Again, Lori approved.
What Lori did not approve of was her treatment at the
hands of her "hostess" before being allowed to settle into the
chair, pull on the gloves, and begin her examination.
After the late-lunch/early-tea in the two-person dining room,
Peyton had unbuckled the leather collar of Lori's arm-binder
system, lifted the steel collar from the serving cart, and
locked it around her neck using a tiny "L"-shaped tool, which
Lori considered both rude and uncalled for. She'd
complained, of course, but didn't offer any physical resistance
to the collaring process. The possible punishment of Heidi
remained very much on her mind. In any case, Peyton
ignored Lori's negative reaction to being collared in quite
obviously inauthentic Medieval steel.
Lori continued complaining (and continued being ignored) as
Peyton led her through the mansion to the reading room.
The unbuckled leather collar of her arm-binder ensemble dangled
and flopped against her breasts as she padded along. It
was most untidy. And as it was obvious that her
polite but emphatic complaints were not going to be
addressed, she shifted her demeanor to grumpy silence and
watched (in a querulous manner) as Peyton unlocked the Reading
Room's sturdy steel door and led her inside. Then, she
padlocked the ring dangling from Lori's collar to the terminal
ring of a steel chain dangling from the ceiling at roughly head
height and in the center of the room. The chain was
short. In fact, Lori had no choice but to stand tall
immediately behind the chair, the table, and its contents.
At least her bare feet were flat on the carpet, which was a
definite plus. Finally, Peyton unbuckled and removed the
remainder of the leather upper-body restraint system, freeing
Lori's arms and hands.
So... Lori was "dressed" in the same embarrassingly gauze-thin
nightie she'd been wearing all day, her ankles were locked in
hobbling steel shackles, and now, thanks to the semi-taut chain,
was standing in the reading room and unable to sit (or
read). She stared at Peyton with a petulant pout, her
hands clenched into fists at her sides. If she knew Heidi
was someplace safe, she would have been perfectly willing to do
actual violence to her smug kidnapper, but Heidi wasn't
someplace safe. Also, her smug kidnapper was standing (and
gloating) several inches beyond the hypothetical swing of her
arms. Anyway, as things currently stood, meaning as Lori
currently stood, she wasn't able to examine the book, use her
expertise, and earn their freedom. Lori waited
(impatiently) for Peyton to finish smiling her arguably winsome
but unarguably irritating lopsided grin, and move
Pwyton gloated for several infuriating seconds... then turned,
strolled to the door, pressed her right thumb against a small
square button on the thermostat's brushed steel frame... and the
large message "UNLOCKED" flashed on the screen, replacing the
indoor weather report. The screen cleared again and text
arranged in what was obviously a menu appeared.
Unfortunately, the distance was too great and the characters too
small for Lori to read anything. Peyton tapped and flicked
the screen and menu followed menu... until finally a melodic chime
sounded in the ceiling directly over Lori's head—Ping!—followed
by the hum of a motor as additional links of her collar-chain
slowly emerged from the steel-lined hole in the ceiling.
Links continued playing out... until the chain rested on the
floor and began to pool. Then, the motor stopped.
Lori estimated she could now easily sit in the chair, with
plenty of slack to spare, but would be unable to get close to
the reading room door.
Meanwhile, the screen had returned to its original climate
report: "68° F" and "40% H".
"Well," Peyton said as she opened the steel door and strode
through, "have yourself a nice read."
"Wait!" Lori called.
Peyton paused in the threshold and smiled. "Yes?"
"I assume you've had the usual laboratory tests conducted," Lori
stated. "I need to see the reports. Also, I require
a laptop or some other means of taking notes."
Peyton's smile widened. "And for sending e-mail to the
cops, of course. I've prepared a tablet for your use, with
restricted access to my intranet, but I'll give it to you
later. Today, I want you to just read. I'm betting
you'll get as excited about this material as I am." She
wiggled her fingers in a truly infuriating wave—"Tootles!"—as
she pulled the door closed with her other hand.
Lori heard a hollow thunk, no doubt the sound of the
bolt of the door's hefty lock sliding home... and she was
alone. She heaved a sigh, then pulled back the chair,
settled into the comfortably padded seat, and pulled on the
cotton gloves. Even if the tome before her was a fake, she
had to follow standard practices and take the usual
precautions. Contaminating the parchment with her body
oils might cause problems for future forensic tests.
She began with a gross visual, tactile, and olfactory
examination. Technique-wise, the binding appeared to be
genuine, similar to books she'd examined of the same supposed
period. She'd leave it to specialists to scrutinize the
stitching and composition of the thread, leather, and the
cover's internal boards. Next, she carefully lifted the
front cover and opened the book. The leaves were
parchment, meaning animal skin, probably sheepskin, and
not "parchment grade" paper. There was very little
insect damage, and by its appearance, the slightly faded ink
appeared to be genuine. There was no illumination, gold
leaf and painted and inked drawings of human, animals, plants,
or other decorative elements, but this was to be expected with a
tome that was supposedly a secular history. Artistic
embellishment was generally reserved for sacred texts and had
been a form of worship.
The text was Old English. Many living scholars are fluent
in Old English (to varying degrees), but Lori was a recognized
authority on the known regional dialects of Old
English (Mercian, Northumbrian, Kentish, and West Saxon), as
well as the Old West and Old East Norse dialects of Britain and
Ireland's Viking settlers/invaders. She read the first
lines, with an eye for inconsistencies... then continued
reading. By the time she was ready to turn the page... her
heart was racing. If this thing was counterfeit,
she very much wanted to meet the counterfeiter.
Lori continued reading.
|Scads of Extra Credit
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z z z ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Ow! Heidi came instantly awake! Something or
someone had just pinched her left nipple! "Mrrrmpfh!" she
complained, and who wouldn't? She also opened her eyes and
squirmed in her bonds.
The perpetrator of the nipple tweaking outrage was Kassidy the
psychopathic kidnapper, of course. The evil brunette was
sitting on the bed, still dressed in her sinister black jeans
and tank-top, and she was smiling her usual sinister, gloating,
cold, reptilian smile. Also, by the weak, indirect light
coming from the bedroom's picture window, it was either very
late in the afternoon or very early evening. The sun had
nearly finished setting.
Heidi was lying on the bed (meaning still lying on the
bed)—naked—ball-gagged—her upper body helpless in a box-tie of
rope—her ankles, feet and big-toes tied together with more rope—and
tethered to the bed by her foot-bonds below and her braided,
folded, and lashed together hair, above. She stared lethal
daggers at her captor in reaction to her outrageously rude wake-up-call.
"Oh good, you're awake," Kassidy purred, continuing to smile as
she gave Heidi's left breast a gentle squeeze. "I'm going
to untie your feet and hair and take you to the Little Damsel's
Room so you can take a tinkle," she stated, still clutching
Heidi's compressed breast. Then, she nodded to the
side. "Do you see the pile of rope on that chair?"
Heidi's glanced at the neat coils of rope piled on the chair in
question. They were her former leg and miscellaneous other
bonds Kassidy had removed when she was first brought to her
current location, meaning dungeon, meaning luxurious Modern
bedroom complete with attached bath. She returned her
glowering gaze to Kassidy.
"If you try kicking or running or give me any sort of trouble,"
Kassidy continued. "You'll spend the night in the back of
my closet tied up so tight you won't be able to twitch.
Heidi continued glaring for several seconds (to uphold the honor
of naked, bound, and gagged damsels everywhere), then nodded.
"That's my Sweetcakes," Kassidy chuckled, then set to
In no time at all, Heidi's bonds were untied, with the notable
exception of the box-tie still binding her folded arms behind
her back, pinning her upper-arms to her sides, and yoking her
shoulders. She was bondage-free from the waist down, and
her hair was free as well, if you didn't count the singe-braid
or the three or four inches of hemp cord at the end, enforcing
the braid. Still naked? Yes, but she was now
theoretically able to kick her kidnapper where it would do the
most good and/or run for the hills as swift as the proverbial
gazelle—not that she was stupid enough to try either
thing. She'd been warned, and had no desire whatsoever to
learn firsthand the no doubt highly constrictive details of
being tied up so tight she couldn't twitch in the back of
Kassidy's closet. Also, she had to rescue Doc, and making
futile gestures and getting punished for them wouldn't further
And oh by the way, the ball-gag was still plugging her grimacing
mouth and buckled tight at the nape of her neck, under her
hanging braid. That meant Heidi was unable to share her
opinion of sadistic, rope-happy morons who thought it was cute
to label people with disgustingly nauseating nicknames like
Kassidy "helped" Heidi off the bed and to her feet, then led her
to the bathroom for the aforementioned tinkle. Heidi did,
meaning tinkled, and found it much easier than the last time,
when her legs had been tightly lashed together from thighs to
toes. That meant having her crotch scrubbed by her captor
with a sopping wet washcloth was unnecessary, but Kassidy did it
anyway. As before, the experience was cold and
humiliating, with water dripping down her legs. Bitch!
Then, it was back to the main bedroom and back down onto the
bed. An altogether uncalled for shove was
involved, followed by mattress-bouncing. Then, before
Heidi could do more than register an indignant "Mrrrfh!" Kassidy
seized Heidi's ankles and lashed them together in the crossed
position, as opposed to side-by-side as before. That meant
Heidi would be staying on the bed, unless she wanted to roll and
squirm on the floor. Hopping while standing on one foot
would be iffy, if not out of the question. The bind also
restricted Heidi's ability to close her legs, which was suddenly
relevant because she noticed the way Kassidy was staring
(leering) at her crotch!
Kassidy continued leering, now including all of her
captive's helpless body in her gaze... then she turned to the
bedroom door. "Wait here," the grinning villainess ordered
(quipped), strolled to the door, opened it, wheeled a serving
cart from the hallway and into the bedroom, closed the door
behind her, then wheeled the cart to the bed.
It was obvious the cart's contents were all food related: a
large ceramic serving bowl with a matching lid, a generous
mug/soup-bowl, a ladle, a soup spoon, a moisture-beaded bottle
of Moose Drool Brown Ale (from the Big Sky Brewing Company), and
a basket of crispy rolls nestled in a linen-lined basket.
And as Heidi was currently behind at least three meals, she was
interested. Then... a meaty, savory aroma reached her
flaring nostrils—Yum!—and she became very interested
and dialed back her ball-gagged-glower to a slightly peeved,
"Sit up," Kassidy ordered.
Heidi executed a leg-lift, spun on her butt until her cross-tied
ankles and most of her legs were off the edge of the mattress,
then executed a crunch, following her kidnapper's orders.
Kassidy then sat down on the bed next to her. Their thighs
were touching and the cart was right in front of them.
Kassidy then reached behind Heidi's head, lifted her braid,
unbuckled the ball-gag, and re-secured the buckle on the strap's
first hole. Then, smiling her cold smile, Kassidy lifted
the lid from the large bowl, revealing a generous quantity of
what was almost certainly beef stew, with bite-size chunks of
meat, baby carrots, chopped onion, sliced celery, and thick
brown gravy! She lifted the ladle and filled the
mug/soup-bowl with a generous portion.
Heidi's stomach let loose an enthusiastic growl, and the saliva
already escaping around her ball-gag and dripping down her chin
increased. She pushed with her tongue and the
well-lubricated ball-gag-ball emerged and fell from her wet
mouth, fell, and bounced against her chest. Heidi stared
at the mug in Kassidy's hand and licked her lips.
"Here ya go, Sweetcakes," Kassidy purred, and carefully
delivered a spoonful of stew to Heidi's open mouth.
"Mmmm!" Heidi exclaimed as she chewed, chewed, and finally
swallowed. She couldn't help herself. It was the
best beef stew she'd ever eaten, by a wide margin. The
meat was soft, flaky, and practically dissolved in her
mouth. The accompanying veggies were soft but not mushy,
and the gravy was savory and delicious!
Best. Stew. Ever! Heidi realized her
hunger had a lot to do with her enthusiasm, but didn't care.
The meal continued, with spoonfuls of stew punctuated by the
occasional swig of Moose Drool or bite of roll. The mug
was soon depleted, Kassidy gave it a refill, and Heidi continued
eating—meaning allowed herself to be fed. Was it
humiliating being spoon fed like she was an overgrown
toddler? Yes, but who the hell cared! Best.
Finally, Heidi emptied the second mug/bowlful of stew, devoured
the last of her second roll, emptied the bottle of Moose Drool,
and the meal was over. She watched as Kassidy returned the
dirty mug/bowl to the tray, along with the spoon, of
course. "Thank you," Heidi huffed. She might as well
be polite. Maybe her kidnapper would go easier on
her. Maybe, but she realized it was a long shot.
Kassidy turned back to the bed, abruptly popped the ball-gag
back into Heidi's startled mouth—"Mrrrf!"—tightened the strap
until her cheeks bulged—"Mrk!—gave Heidi a shove so she
landed on her back on the bed—"MRRRF!—flipped her onto her
stomach, lifted her cross-bound ankles, and folded her legs back
until Heidi's heels were pressed against her
buttocks—"Nrrrm!—then produced a length of rope and used it to
lash Heidi's ankles to the nexus of her box-tie, leaving her stringently
"Mrrrmpfh!" Heidi complained, squirming in her bonds on the
rumpled bed. So much for being polite. She
rolled onto her side and stared daggers at her gloating
Kassidy smiled/gloated for several seconds... then pushed the
cart towards the bedroom door. "Well, I gotta clean things
up, Sweetcakes. Take a nap," she chuckled as she made her
exit, closing and locking the bedroom door behind her. Click!
Heidi heaved a gagged sigh, then went limp in her bonds. At
least I'm not hungry anymore, she mused.
|Scads of Extra Credit
Peyton enjoyed an evening meal of beef stew, rolls, and a brown
ale with the amusing moniker of "Moose Drool." Lori had no
choice but to concede that the food had been delicious and the
dinner conversation stimulating. Not enjoyable or
companionable by any means, but stimulating—cold, clinical,
scholarly, and stimulating, at least on Lori's part.
Lori had made it halfway through the massive tome back in the
secure reading room before being "invited" to dinner. Her
first impression remained. If the work in question was a
fake, it was a truly outstanding fake. Still
inadequately dressed in her gauze-thin nightie, her ankles
hobbled with cold steel and the similar steel collar still
secured around her neck, Lori had sat in a comfortable dining
chair across from her sundress-clad hostess/kidnapper and
enjoyed the meal.
"I'll need copies of high-resolution photographs of Toland of
Consett's letters from the British Museum," Lori stated at one
"Why?" Peyton inquired.
"Comparison, of course. Standard, accepted spelling of
names and places is a fairly recent innovation," Lori explained,
"and often varied from author to author and time to time."
Peyton smiled. "You want to see if Toland is consistent."
Peyton took a final swig of beer. "No problem. I can
get you copies in a day or two. Stand."
Apparently, the meal was over. It was just as well.
Lori had already finished her beer. She stood, as did her
hostess/kidnapper, then Peyton stepped behind her, crossed her
hands behind her back, and quickly tied them together with a
length of braided nylon cord. Lori stared at the
theoretical horizon, her expression neutral. As the cord
tightened and was cinched and snugged tight, Lori heaved a quiet
sigh. Once again she was essentially helpless... ankles
hobbled, neck collared, and wrists tied behind her back.
Peyton took hold of her right arm and led her away.
Their destination was a spacious, luxurious, and Modern
bedroom. One entire wall was nothing but closed
drapes. Lori assumed they were covering an expanse of
windows. Peyton led Lori into the attached bathroom (also
spacious, luxurious, and Modern) and helped her conduct her
evening toilette. This required the washing of Lori's face
with a warm, wet washcloth and the application of some sort of
moisturizer, followed by the brushing of her teeth, all of which
was conducted by Peyton, of course. That wasn't too bad,
but then Peyton lifted the hem of Lori's nightie, plunked her
down on the commode, and encouraged her to relieve
herself. Needless to say, such intimacy was both improper
and embarrassing, but given the circumstances, it was
also necessary. Lori emptied her bladder and endured the
cleanup that followed. She also blushed.
Finally ready for bed, Lori was led back to the main bedroom and
towards the king-size bed. It was of the platform variety,
and she watched as Peyton pulled back the covers. Then, at
Peyton's command, Lori sat, rolled onto her side, lifted her
chain-hobbled feet, and tucked her legs between the
sheets. Next, she watched (sullenly) as Peyton lifted the
end of a steel chain and padlocked it to the ring on the front
of her collar. The chain snaked off the head of the
bed. Logically it was connected to something solid, but
whatever that might be was out of sight. In any case, Lori
might be tethered to the bed, but she had plenty of slack.
Peyton smiled down at her prisoner.
Lori stared up at her captor. "Untie my wrists," she
Still smiling, Peyton shook her head. "Not tonight."
"Untie my wrists, please?" Lori ventured.
Peyton laughed, then spun on her heels and strolled to a closed
door. She opened it, revealing what Lori could see was a
walk-in closet, and entered.
Lori tested her wrist bindings. The cord might was well be
steel, like her collar and shackles. Her groping fingers
encountered nothing even vaguely resembling a knot. In
fact, with her wrists rigidly crossed as they were, she could
barely brush the cord strands with her fingertips.
And then, Peyton returned. Her pretty sundress was gone,
replaced by... nothing.
Despite the sedentary nature of her scholarly pursuits, Lori
prided herself in her trim figure. She made it a habit to
budget the time required for running and exercise in the faculty
health club, to keep herself in shape. Apparently,
Peyton-the-grinning-kidnapper also found the time to
maintain a healthy physique. The redhead's body was
slender, her muscles well-defined, and her skin smooth, firm,
and host to countless freckles. There were no
Lori watched as Payton padded to the bathroom and entered.
Water splashed, time passed... then the commode flushed.
Lori's wrists remained crossed and bound. Finally, Peyton
emerged from the bathroom and padded towards the bed, smiling
her trademark lopsided grin.
"I-I thought this was my bedroom," Lori sputtered.
"No, Professor," Peyton purred. "This is my bedroom."
She climbed under the covers next to her prisoner and rolled
onto her side, propping herself up on her right elbow and
resting her grinning head on her right hand. "Think of
this as a sleepover."
"This is most improper," Lori huffed.
"Lighten up, Lori," Peyton chuckled. "I want us to be
friends. Have you ever done it with a women?"
Lori's only answer was a sullen pout. (And her heart was
"Well, not tonight." Peyton heaved a deep yawn, covering
her mouth with one hand—"Eyawhhh!"—then turned away,
reached out and tapped the screen of a small remote resting on
the bedside table, and the lights slowly dimmed... and finally
winked out. Now, the only light was coming from blue-green
nightlights somewhere near the floor on either side of the
bed. Peyton then turned back, fully reclined, and planted
a kiss on Lori's startled lips. "Goodnight," she purred.
"G-goodnight," Lori responded, then squirmed and tugged on her
wrist-bonds, once again. "Wait! Please, untie
me. I won't be able to sleep like this."
"Yes you will," Peyton purred, "and this way you won't be able
to pull a 'Princess Leia' on me once I'm asleep."
"You won't be able to strangle me with your chain," Peyton
clarified. "And even if you did strangle me, you'd still
be chained to the bed. And just imagine what Kassidy would
do to poor Heidi once she discovered you've offed her meal
ticket and ruined her retirement plan. Now, go to sleep."
Lori stared into the darkness, heaved a sigh, and squirmed for
comfort. Well, she thought, needs must when
the devil drives. She then closed her eyes and tried
her best to sleep.
|Scads of Extra Credit
Heidi lay on
the bed in hogtied, ball-gagged, naked misery. Kassidy had
ordered her to "take a nap," but in an act of open defiance,
she'd decided to doze off instead.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z z z ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Mrrrf!" Ow! Kassidy had returned, and had
roused Heidi from her relaxing (not) and rejuvenating (not)
slumber with a businesslike slap on what little was
available of the hogtied captive's left butt-cheek. Bitch!
Heidi silently accused, then her eyes widened. Speaking of
butt-cheeks, Kassidy was bare-ass naked! That is,
at some point after returning the the bedroom from her professed
cleanup mission and before her totally unnecessary and uncalled
for butt-slap—Bitch!—Kassidy had misplaced her
clothes! She was a nude! Heidi's
butt-slapping kidnapper was wearing her birthday suit!
"Good girl," Kassidy purred as she untied the rope enforcing
Ow! Heidi straightened her legs, rolled onto her
side, and stared up at Kassidy... and her boobs... and washboard
abs... and dark, curly, pubic bush... and firm, strong
thighs. She continued staring as Kassidy executed a
full-body stretch, reaching for the ceiling and yawning... then
climbed onto bed, reclined next to her prisoner, meaning
Heidi—poor, naked, ankle-bound, box-tied, and ball-gagged
Heidi—then pulled the covers over both of them! Apparently
(meaning obviously) she intended for the two of them to share
the sleeping arrangements!
Heidi was not okay with the situation.
"Mrrrmpfh!" she complained.
"What?" Kassidy chuckled. "You'd rather sleep on the
floor?" Kassidy covered her mouth as she took another deep
yawn. "Eyowhhh! Or maybe you need to take
Heidi did not want to sleep on the floor. Nor did
she need to take a leak... but now that she thought about it,
maybe she did. She nodded towards the bathroom door.
Kassidy rolled her eyes (but was still smiling), then threw back
the covers, sat up, grabbed Heidi'a legs, and half-spun her on
her butt until the captive's ankles were within easy range, then
untied Heidi's crossed-ankle-bonds. And then, she gave
Heidi a shove and she fell off the bed!
"Mrrrf!" Bitch! Naked, box-tied, and
ball-gagged, Heidi, scrambled to her feet and glared at
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Kassidy demanded, then smiled
and nodded at the bathroom door. "Go!"
Heidi shook her tousled hair out of her ball-gagged face (with
limited success), then turned and stomped (padded) to the
bathroom. She managed to open the door (awkwardly, thanks
to the impediment of the box-tie), then entered the
bathroom. She also managed to sit on the commode, spread
her legs wide, and accomplish her mission without further
difficulty. She then flushed the toilet (awkwardly)
returned to the main bedroom, stomped (padded) to the bed, sat
on the mattress, and reclined (awkwardly) more-or-less in her
"Now," Kassidy huffed as she pulled the covers over them as
before, "go to sleep."
Heidi heaved a sigh, then closed her eyes. She felt
Kassidy roll away on the bed, and the lights winked out.
Kassidy rolled back... then was still.
Well, at least she's keeping her hands to herself, Heidi
thought, and heaved another carefully quiet sigh. Seconds
passed. Then—blink, blink!—Heidi stared at the dark
ceiling. She forgot to tie my ankles! It was
true! Heidi was rope free from the waist down!
This was an opportunity... maybe.
Heidi waited. She had to be absolutely sure her
kidnapping, rope-happy, butt-slapping bed-mate was asleep... as
in fully asleep... not just dozing off. There was
only one thing to do.
One-one-thousand... two-one-thousand... three-one-thousand...
Heidi continued her slow, deliberate, silent countdown.
The was no sign that Kassidy was anything but fast asleep.
Her face was slack in the dim, blue-green light provided by the
nightlights near the floor on either side of the bed.
Kassidy executed a slight comfort movement. That is, she
half-rolled on her side, facing Heidi, but otherwise remained
dead to the world.
Ninety-eight-one-thousand... Ninety-nine-one-thousand... one
It was time to escape, or give it her best try. All Heidi
had to do was ease herself off the bed, sneak to the bedroom
door, silently pull it open (no doubt awkwardly),
silently ease it closed (also no doubt awkwardly), then explore
the mansion, find Doc, find some clothes, and escape. Piece
With glacial speed and ultra-caution... Heidi eased herself out
from under the covers and off the bed, stood and stared down at
Kassidy for several seconds to confirm that she was, indeed,
asleep... She was... apparently. Then, slowly and
silently, Heidi padded to the bedroom door, managed to ease it
open, slid through the gap, then pushed until the door was almost
closed. She didn't want to risk the bolt clicking and
waking up her captor.
Heidi was out! That is, she was in the dark corridor of
Peyton's Modern mansion/prison. So far so good!
She randomly chose a direction—Left—and began her
silent, naked, box-tied, and ball-gagged search for Professor
Ryder... so she could rescue her.
Back in the dark bedroom, Kassidy opened her eyes, grinned, then
carefully eased herself out of bed. She then padded to a
cabinet, silently slid open a drawer, selected several of the
neatly bundled coils of hemp rope within, added them to the pile
of identical coils already on the nearby chair, and silently
slid the drawer closed. She then returned to the bed and
retrieved the loose tangle of rope lying on the covers. It
was Heidi's former ankle-bonds, the rope Kassidy had "forgotten"
to use to immobilize her prisoner when Heidi returned from her
trip to the bathroom. Still smiling, she carefully looped
the rope into a convenient coil, then turned and padded to the
Kassidy waited a few seconds... until she decided Heidi had
enough of a head start, then silently opened the door. It
was time to commence the damsel-hunt, and there was nothing
Kassidy enjoyed more than a good damsel-hunt, other than
punishing a disobedient damsel for trying to escape, of course.
|Scads of Extra
| Chapter 4