Eliza had no idea how many.
Nothing happened in the subterranean... chamber.
Eliza decided not even to think the word "tomb" while
contemplating her concrete prison... just like her steel cage
was not a well ventilated "sarcophagus."
"Mausoleum," "crypt," and "sepulchre" were also off
limits. ... "Vault" was marginal.
The only disturbances to the "peace" were the quiet, barely
discernible metallic scraping that happened when the bungee-cord
clips slid against the D-rings, the faint creaking of the
leather of the jacket, leg-sheath, and/or their straps, and what
little noise she could force through her gag.
"Mrrr." And that was it... acoustically. And any and
all of that happened only when she struggled or verified the
effectiveness of her harness-gag,
bolero-bare-boobs-straitjacket, leg-sheath, and the
bungee-clips... but what was the point? She wasn't going
Fortunately (or otherwise), she wasn't visually deprived.
Through the bars of the cage Eliza could see the weakly glowing
element of the light directly overhead. She suspected the
glowing element was an LED, but the distance was too great for
her to be sure. Only the best for Coco Vespini and her
Art Installations, she silently fumed. And what was
the point of the hefty steel grill protecting the fixture?
She supposed it was good to know that if she suddenly turned
green and transformed into The Sensational She-Hulk—then burst
her way out of the jacket, leg-sheath, and the cage—the
LED would be safe from flying shrapnel. I'd hate to
have to smash my way out of this tomb in the dark.
There, she'd thought it... 'Tomb.' Eliza
found she could also make a little noise by sighing, but it
wasn't very satisfying.
That was the chamber door being unlocked and opened, of course,
followed by the sound of rubber tires. Eliza's eyes were
totally adapted to the ambient light, so other than the slight
obstruction offered by the cage bars, she had no difficulty
watching Coco push the dreaded heavy-duty wheelchair towards her
cage. It was a short trip.
Eliza's hostess/captor was no longer naked or in need of a bath,
but was wearing one of her at-home uniforms: bare feet, black
designer jeans, and a black tank-top (with pokies). Her
gleaming brown hair was loose about her shoulders, framing her
beautiful face, with its usual sparkling brown eyes and gorgeous
(infuriating) dimpled smile.
"Good news, darling," Coco purred. "Sis says Tippi was a very
well-behaved little schoolgirl while they were in
town. She made no attempts to contact the authorities, nor
did she make a break for it. So... I've decided to rescue
you. Isn't that nice of me?"
Eliza continued watching (also glowering and/or scowling) as
Coco unlocked the cage's padlock, lifted the hasp, then the
cage's lid, lowered the front panel, and released the
bungee-cord clips. All of that was accompanied by various
metallic sound effects, of course, but as Eliza's brain was no
longer starved for sensory input she was able to ignore the
rattle and clatter and concentrate on staring daggers at her
Soon, Eliza was back in the wheelchair, the royal-blue "safety"
straps were making sure she stayed there, and Coco was wheeling
her out of her tomb and back down the corridor. They
retraced their steps to the Secret Door/Wall, which on the
Secret Dungeon/Mausoleum side of the mansion was a wall-to-wall
and ceiling-to-floor steel bulkhead next to an alcove full of
the machinery required to pull it open and/or push it
closed. Coco inserted her magic barrel-key in a key-plate,
gave it a turn, and the motor sprang to life. The hum was
louder than Eliza remembered from earlier, but she supposed that
made sense as she was on the motor side of the barrier (and had
been recently semi-sensory-deprived).
Anyway, the secret door/wall/deep-sink slowly opened... and the
journey continued. Their ultimate destination was...
Coco's luxurious and exquisitely decorated bedroom. Along
the way Eliza saw no sign of Tippi, Pepper, or anyone
else. Also, it was either very late in the afternoon or
very early in the evening. As they passed various windows
Eliza could see a little orange/yellow/blue light, but not
much. It was right around sunset.
They entered the bedroom and Coco wheeled Eliza into the
attached bath. Like the bedroom itself, it was luxurious,
exquisitely decorated, and the height of good taste. There
was a generous, tiled shower alcove, a large soaking tub, and
the usual commode and washbasin. Smiling her disgustingly
beautiful and irritatingly dimpled smile, Coco released the
royal-blue straps securing Eliza in the wheelchair, then
unbuckled and removed her young guest's harness gag. This
took a while, as several buckles were involved, but finally Coco
was able to ease the black silicon-rubber plug from Eliza's
mouth... and the deed was done.
Eliza licked her lips and worked her jaw, then shook her head,
hoping (in vain) that her dirty, tousled hair would settle into
place. She could see her reflection in the large mirror
behind the sink and was disappointed by the frumpy, tousled
result. It looked like she was wearing a blond fright wig
and this did not improve her mood.
Meanwhile, Coco had knelt on the exquisite ceramic tiles and was
unbuckling the leg-sheath, including its attached foot and
big-toe mini-straps. She then unzipped the long vertical
zipper, opening the sheath, and helped Eliza to her feet.
The floor was cold and Eliza's newly exposed legs were shining
with sweat. Also, her leg muscles were a little
shaky. Otherwise, she might have considered planting a
swift kick between her hostess' legs and/or under her
chin. Instead, she continued glowering.
"You're probably thirsty," Coco purred as she filled a glass and
held it to Eliza's pouting lips.
Eliza was thirsty, so she decided to drink, instead of
spitting the cool, clear, delicious water in Coco's
gloating face. And the issue of the jacket remained.
She had to get out of the bolero-straitjacket before she could
reap her Righteous Vengeance and pummel Coco into the oblivion
she so richly deserved.
The drink was followed by a visit to the commode, and the only
privacy Eliza enjoyed was Coco being busy placing the leg-sheath
and harness-gag on the wheelchair's ocean-blue padded seat and
wheeling the chair from the bathroom.
By the time Coco returned, Eliza was finished taking her tinkle
and was free to concentrate on perfecting her glower.
Still smiling, Coco flushed the commode and triggered the bidet
"Eeek!" The water splashing Eliza's nether region took her
totally by surprise, but she recovered quickly and resumed
scowling, and she continued scowling as Coco dragged
(led) her to the shower alcove and plunked her down on a marble
"Get me out of this bloody jacket," Eliza demanded.
Coco shook her head. "Such language. Not yet,
darling," she purred, wet a washcloth, and began giving her
scowling young guest a sponge-bath, using the wet cloth to
thoroughly scrub of all Eliza's exposed skin from toes to
crotch—butt, tummy, and lower back—angry face—and delightfully
bulging breasts. And Eliza knew her boobs were
"delightful" because Coco said so. "Delightful."
Coco then took Eliza's place on the marble seat, lowered Eliza
onto her lap—"Hey!"—and used a hand-held shower attachment on a
flexible steel hose to thoroughly rinse Eliza's hair. She
was careful. Very little water splashed onto the jacket or
found its way under the collar, and the few drops that did find
their way onto the shining black leather she dealt with using a
fluffy towel, then used it to dry Eliza's exposed skin and hair.
Led by her hostess/captor/handler, Eliza emerged from the bath
with her hair in a towel-turban, the parts of her body not
encased in the bolero-straitjacket clean and refreshed, and her
body that was encased in shining leather still sweaty
from this morning's sauna-session and the hours of being
entombed in the ever-so-slightly overheated chamber down below.
Enough was enough. Eliza shrugged off Coco's guiding hand
and squirmed in her bare-boobs-bolero-bondage. "Get me out
of this bloody jacket!" she demanded.
"Language, young lady," Coco chuckled, "unless you want
another gag." She led (dragged) Eliza to the huge bed and
gave her an abrupt shove!
"Dammit!" Eliza cursed as she bounced on the soft (but not too
soft) mattress. The towel-turban came loose, she shook
it free, and watched as Coco opened the lower drawer of a large
cabinet, gathered a handful of leather and steel rattling things,
and returned to the bed.
The things in question were a pair of black leather padded cuffs
joined by about a foot of rubber bungee-cord. Eliza
watched (glowered) as Coco buckled them around her ankles.
She considered kicking and flailing around, but knew it would be
pointless, a fight she couldn't win. There was also a
ball-gag, a black silicon-rubber ball with a black-leather
strap, but Coco fastened it by its first hole around Eliza's
neck. "There," Coco purred. "Ready if needed."
She then picked up the towel and strolled back into the bath,
presumably to put it in a luxurious and decadently expensive
Eliza took the time to make a more detailed appraisal of the
main bedroom. There was a window-wall with French doors
and a magnificent view of a garden, a stretch of lawn, and the
last of the sunset glow above the darkening lake. Several
very nice paintings hung on the walls, the furniture looked very
comfortable, and everything was appropriate to the mansion's
overall decorating scheme (not counting the institutional and/or
subterranean patient accommodations). Nice place,
she mentally conceded.
Coco returned from the bathroom with a brush and comb set,
climbed onto the bed, and positioned herself with Eliza in front
of her and facing away. She then proceeded to gently comb
and brush her prisoner's short blond hair.
Eliza continued scowling as she endured Coco's pampering.
What choice did she have?
"You need a trim, darling," Coco purred as she worked.
"My hair is just fine!" Eliza huffed.
"Yes, the texture is fine," Coco agreed, "and silky...
but it's uneven." The brush continued gliding through
Eliza's blond locks. "Even if you intend to grow it out,
you need a trim. However, I believe shorter would be
better. You'd look amazing
in a true pixie-cut, Tomboy."
"I like my hair the way it is," Eliza muttered.
"We'll see," Coco responded, then climbed off the bed, returned
the brush and comb to the bathroom, and headed for the bedroom
door. "I'll get you something to eat," she said, then was
gone—Click!—locking the door behind her.
Eliza stared at the door for a few seconds, then heaved a sigh
and flopped back onto the bed. Something to eat sounded
like a very good idea. She'd missed lunch.
And as for her hair... What did she mean by 'we'll
see?' That was... ominous.
|| Chapter 4
Pepper had put
the handcuffs back on Tippi's wrists as soon as they finished
shopping and loading everything in the back of the car.
So... Tippi's wrists were cuffed behind her back for the entire
ride home... meaning back to the Sinister Vespini Sister's
Sinister Mansion. The cuffs came off once Pepper parked
the car, of course. She wasn't going to unload all those
groceries by herself. Tippi helped... and once all the
hauling and putting away was over... Pepper cuffed Tippi's
wrists behind her back again!
Tippi supposed she ought to complain, and her main concern was
getting Eliza released from wherever she'd been sequestered by
Coco. Tippi decided a subtle approach was in
"Thanks for lunch," Tippi said to Pepper as she was led through
the mansion. "That's a nice little town."
"You're welcome, dear," Pepper grinned, "and I quite
agree. There's a steakhouse up in the hills that looks
down on the lake. I'll take you there sometime."
"Thanks." Tippi began to suspect their destination was
Pepper's bedroom. "Uh, we're on our way to release Eliza
from, uh, wherever it is she needs releasing from, right?"
"Today, Eliza is my sister's concern," Pepper purred. She
focused her smile on Tippi. "You're mine."
Tippi tugged on her cuffs and swallowed nervously. "But...
we're back... and I was good."
They arrived at Pepper's bedroom. "Don't worry about your
girlfriend, darling," Pepper chuckled. "She'll be fine."
Tippi almost reacted to the "girlfriend" remark, but
caught herself in time. That was twice Pepper had
tried to bait her with the ridiculous allegation that Eliza and
her were some sort of couple, and Tippi realized she was going
to have to remain on her guard, lest she rise to the bait if or
when there was a third time.
"I want to see her," Tippi demanded (whined). She also
"Eliza?" Pepper inquired.
"Yes, Eliza," Tippi huffed, tugging on her cuffs, again.
"Sorry, darling," Pepper sighed (with an irritating grin), "but
she's busy with Coco, and it's my job to keep you busy."
Tippi heaved a wounded sigh. (It was heartbreaking.)
"Well, I've had enough for one day."
"Don't be silly, darling," Pepper purred. "It's only mid
afternoon." She led Tippi into the walk-in closet.
"I don't care," Tippi pouted. "I don't want to play."
Pepper's dimpled smile took a sinister twist. "This is the
perfect opportunity to expand your horizons, Tippi.
Anyway, in circumstances like this, it only matters what I
want. Consider this an important part of your training."
Tippi watched with growing alarm as Pepper opened a cabinet
drawer... then proceeded to use a pair of bandage scissors to
snip a seven-inch strip from a roll of the dreaded Elastoplast
medical tape, the tape Pepper claimed was the widely recognized
best product for tape-gags.
"I'm serious," Tippi complained as Pepper approached with the
tape stretched between her hands. She backed
away—"Oops!—right into the shoe rack, in the process dislodging
about a dozen random pumps of various styles, mostly black,
which rattled to the carpeted floor. "No!—Mrrrf!"
"There," Pepper cooed as she smoothed the tape. "I just
love the way this stuff hugs the skin and your lips stand out in
"Mrrr!" Hands on Tippi's shoulders, Pepper had led her to
the closet's triptych of full-length mirrors so she could
examine her gagged-self. It was true. The shape of
her lips and mouth were clearly visible on the surface
of the off-white strip adhered to most of her lower face.
It was... remarkable.
Pepper's hands still rested on Tippi's shoulders as she smiled
at Tippi's tape-gagged and wide-eyed reflection in the
mirrors. "Now, I could fetch a riding crop, or
better yet a shock-wand, to compel your obedience, but neither I
nor my sister particularly enjoy inflicting pain.
Alternatively, I could slip a noose over your head and leave you
up on your toes while I strip off your clothing and change your
bondage. And if you continued to resist, I could
simply wait until your feet grow tired and you decide
cooperation is better than strangulation—but let's simply pretend
you're a terrified damsel and will do what you're told,
Her brown eyes still wide above her Elastoplast-gag, Tippi
nodded. Her pageboy bobbed in a most charming manner.
"Good schoolgirl," Pepper chuckled. "Now, I'm going
to remove your cuffs. Then, you're going to continue being
a good girl, not touch your pretty tape-gag, and strip
to the skin. Okay?"
Tippi didn't especially want to strip, but didn't see how she
had any real choice in the matter. Even if she decided to
fight (and she was a lousy fighter, unlike Eliza, who
was a real scrapper), as far as she knew, Eliza was still a
helpless and hidden hostage to her good behavior. Tippi
heaved another gagged sigh... and nodded again.
Pepper removed the black hinged-handcuffs from Tippi's wrists,
then smiled and watched as Tippi followed her orders and removed
her loafers, knee-socks, skirt, blouse, bandeau-bra, and
Nude, tape-gagged, and highly embarrassed, Tippi followed
Pepper's further directions by placing the socks, underwear, and
blouse in a laundry hamper, and the skirt in the designated
dry-cleaning hamper. She then replaced the dislodged shoes
cluttering the floor back on the rack, being careful to match
them to their partners. Then, her right arm folded across
her breasts and her left hand demurely shielding her private
parts, she watched as Pepper opened yet another drawer and
pulled out... something in black leather with shiny steel
"Relax, darling," Pepper chuckled. "It's all part of your
continuing training, like I said." She then turned Tippi
to face the mirrors and set to work.
When the proverbial dust settled, Tippi found herself zipped and
buckled into the black-leather-with-shiny-steel-hardware thingie
in question. Pepper explained it was called a
"single-sleeve armbinder," which Tippi considered a logical and
descriptive designation. Her arms were behind her back,
encased in a conical, skintight leather sheath, from her
fingertips to just above her elbows, which actually
touched! Thank goodness for yoga! she mused.
Leather straps yoked her shoulders, crisscrossing above her
breasts, and buckled to the top of the sleeve. Secondary
(and, in Tippi's opinion, unnecessary) leather straps
buckled tightly around her wrists and elbows. Needless to
say, her fingers, hands, and arms were totally useless for
purposes of escape... or anything else for that matter.
Also, the binder pulled her shoulders back and caused her boobs
to point! It was... Tippi decided to go
with "mortifying." It was either that or "wicked and
"A perfect fit," Pepper cooed as she secured the final
buckle. She then led her naked prisoner from the closet,
into the bathroom, and waited patiently while Tippi used the
commode to take a humiliating tinkle. Pepper then used a
damp washcloth to scrub Tippi's crotch clean... which wasn't at
all embarrassing (and sensual). She then led Tippi
back into the bedroom and to the bed.
"Mrrrk!" Thanks to a rather rude shove from her
hostess/captor, Tippi found herself bouncing on the
mattress. And then, before she could fully recover—Click-k-k-k!
Click-k-k-k!—she found Pepper had tightened the black
hinged-handcuffs around her ankles!
"Now, Tippi darling, why don't you take a nice nap?" Pepper
suggested (ordered), then turned and strolled towards the
bedroom door. "I'll be back," she advised (warned) as she
made her exit—Click!—and locked the door from the far side.
Tippi was naked, tape-gagged, ankle-cuffed, armbinder-bound, and
alone! A nap? Why not? It was either
that or lie on the soft (but not too soft) mattress and
worry about Eliza. Or, she could hop around the bedroom
until her ankles were rubbed raw for no conceivable
purpose. A nap was better. Tippi heaved a
tape-gagged sigh, closed her eyes, and tried her best to relax.
|| Chapter 4
sisters shared a pleasant dinner in the form of various
mini-sandwiches out on the deck overlooking the lake. Of
course, they only consumed half the food Coco had
prepared. The other half was waiting in the kitchen on a
pair of plates and covered with plastic wrap. They would
be Eliza and Tippi's supper, to be delivered shortly.
"I think my Tippi is ready," Pepper stated, then popped the
remainder of a roast beef mini-sandwich (with horseradish sauce
on sourdough) into her mouth.
"You said that yesterday," Coco purred as she finished off her
mini pastrami-on-rye (with yellow mustard).
"And you told me to wait," Pepper responded. "I think
"Well... go carefully," Coco advised as she reached for a mini
"I intend to," Pepper chuckled, then took a sip of rosé.
"How 'bout you and your adorably angry Tomboy?"
Coco heaved a sigh. "She may not ever be
ready. Eliza is too much of a fighter...
unfortunately. But I suspect she'd enjoy playing the
damsel-in-distress if she allowed herself."
Pepper frowned. "Don't get me wrong. Tippi is no
"I agree," Coco grinned, then chewed and swallowed a bite of
mini-sandwich before answering. "I still think caution is
advised, with both of our assistants.."
Pepper grinned. "It might be quite some time before you
convince Eliza to give herself permission to play."
"Exactly," Coco nodded. "And I remain convinced Tippi
has... hidden depths."
"Hidden depths," Pepper chuckled, then selected a mini
crab-and-artichoke-salad on sour dough. "So... we shall
"Carefully," Coco agreed.
Out on the lake, a dozen or more bats wheeled and swooped in the
rapidly darkening sky, doing their best to rid the planet of
|| Chapter 4
The bedroom door opened and Eliza lifted her head to watch
(glower) as Coco entered the bedroom carrying a small serving
tray. On the tray was a plate of tiny sandwiches, a carafe
of what appeared to be rosé, a stemmed goblet, and a folded
linen napkin. She assumed it was the "something to eat"
she'd been promised earlier.
"It's about bloody time," Eliza huffed as she squirmed and sat
up on the soft mattress.
"Again with the intemperate language," Eliza chuckled as she
shook her head and set the tray on the bed. She then
arranged the pillows against the headboard, climbed onto the
bed, reclined against the pile of pillows, and pulled the
pouting blonde against her.
"Hey! Keep your bloody hands to yourself!" Eliza
complained as Coco made the final arrangements. The plate
of sandwiches and accompanying wine were within easy reach,
meaning Coco's easy reach, of course. Zipped and
strapped in the bolero-bare-boobs-straitjacket, nothing was
within Eliza's reach, easy or otherwise.
"Seriously, young lady," Coco purred as she poured wine into the
goblet, "I know you're proud of your rough and tumble Australian
roots, there's no excuse for being impolite."
Eliza's stomach grumbled. She decided to keep her bloody
opinion about bloody impolite speech to her bloody self... and
she was proud of her Aussie heritage. Any further
use of "intemperate language" could wait until her stomach was
Still smiling her patented beautiful/sinister dimpled smile,
Coco poured wine into the goblet, took a sip, then held the
goblet for Eliza to enjoy the delicious rosé. A sliced turkey with
cranberry relish, mayonnaise, and mixed lettuce on white bread
mini-sandwich followed. Eliza demolished the yummy
sandwich in two quick bites, finished chewing and swallowing...
then accepted another sip of wine. So far so yummy.
The mini-sandwiches disappeared from the plate one-by-one, the
goblet emptied, was refilled, and the meal continued.
There was no conversation, just Eliza eating (and glowering),
and Coco feeding her precious Tomboy (and smiling).
Eventually, the food was gone and two very full glasses of wine
had been shared between the prisoner and her jailer.
"Well then," Coco purred, "time for bed." She led Eliza to
the luxurious attached bathroom. The captive's steps were
only slightly impeded by the padded leather ankle-cuffs and
bungee-hobble. Once there, Coco "helped" the glaring
Tomboy take a tinkle, subjected her to a brief bidet cleansing
afterwards, then loaded a toothbrush and brushed Eliza's teeth
for her. Her final grooming act was to scrub Eliza's
scowling face with soap and washcloth.
Eliza allowed all this to happen, of course, as she needed to
empty her bladder, her crotch might as well be clean, and her
teeth needed brushing—but she continued scowling and did not
thank her hostess/handler when her evening toilette was
And then, it was back to the bed for Eliza and she was back on
the mattress, her ankles still strapped in the leather-cuffs
with bungee-hobble, her upper body still zipped and strapped in
the insidious bare-boobs-bolero-straitjacket, and the ominous
ball-gag still dangling around her neck in a threatening
manner. She squirmed, tried to relax, and watched Coco pad
into the walk-in closet. Several seconds passed... then
Coco reemerged without her black designer jeans and
tank-top. In point of fact, Coco was nude, totally nude,
as opposed to mostly nude and
nude-under-her-leather-restraints, like Eliza.
Coco then disappeared into the bathroom and Eliza heard the
sounds of her hostess' conducting her evening toilette.
Finally, Coco emerged and padded to the bed, smiling and still
nude. She turned off the lights, leaving only the glow of
a dim nightlight, then pulled the covers out from under Eliza,
rearranged the pillows for sleeping, climbed onto the mattress,
snuggled alarmingly close to her hobbled and
straitjacketed prisoner, and pulled the summer blanket and
top-sheet over both their bodies.
"Now, be a good girl and let me sleep," Coco whispered in
Eliza's left ear, "or I'll pop your ball-gag in your mouth, clip
your hobble to the ring on the front of your jacket collar, and
you'll spend the rest of the night on the floor."
"Just keep your hands to yourself," Eliza huffed.
"Are you sure, darling?" Coco said quietly. "I have a
Hitachi wand in the bottom drawer of the bedside table. A
prolonged, gentle 'massage' might help you sleep. I know
it always helps me sleep."
"No thank you," Eliza muttered, then her eyes popped wide as
Coco snuggled even closer—into a full embrace, in fact!—then
cupped her left breast! "Hey!"
"Hush, darling," Coco purred, then kissed Eliza's cheek and
rested her head against the pillow. "Goodnight."
"Uh... yeah... goodnight." Eliza swallowed nervously and
stared into the near-darkness. She was afraid sleep might
prove to be somewhat elusive.
|| Chapter 4
evening meal was much the same as Eliza's, only with Pepper
doing the hand-feeding and pushing the wine. In another
difference, Pepper had disrobed and put her clothes away before
dinner was served! That's right, poor blushing,
mortified, armbinder-bound, and ankle-cuffed Tippi had her
Elastoplast tape-gag peeled away by a naked Pepper!
And then she was fed the variety of delectable
mini-sandwiches and nice rosé... by a naked Pepper!
The assisted evening toilette after the sandwiches and wine was
also strikingly similar to Eliza's experience, except for the
fact that, once again, Tippi's Vespini sister handler was,
herself, also naked.
And then, Tippi found herself back on the king-size, luxurious
bed, but now with her ankles lashed together by Pepper using the
black terrycloth sash of her black terrycloth bathrobe.
And Pepper was also on the bed and embracing Tippi's
single-sleve-armbinder-bound but otherwise naked body! And
then, another dissimilarity between Eliza and Tippi's
treatment emerged: Pepper was much more assertive about
helping Tippi relax before going to sleep!
"Hey-hey-hey!" Tippi objected. "Hands! Hands!"
"Hush, darling," Pepper purred.
The hands Tippi was taking issue with were Pepper's, of course,
and they were gliding over Tippi's exposed skin (which was most
of her skin, but not her encased arms, of course).
Also, Pepper's legs were scissored around Tippi's ankle-bound
legs, controlling her attempts to kick and squirm. And
then, Pepper slid her left leg between Tippi's legs,
thus preventing Tippi from squeezing her thighs together,
something Tippi very much wanted to do! Why? Because
Pepper had started sliding the edge of her right palm against
"Hey!—Mrrrrrrf!" Further attempts to complain were muffled
as Pepper's right hand was now clamped over Tippi's mouth in a tight
hand-gag. "Mrrr!" The sideways embrace,
labia-massage, and hand-gag continued. "Nrrrrr!"
Then, Pepper released Tippi's mouth and gave her right breast a
"Nooooo!" Tippi shuddered, squirming and doing her best to
wiggle free. Pepper's fingers were now diddling!
Yes, she was sure! They were definitely diddling!
"No?" Pepper purred. "Are you sure?"
"Yesssss!" Tippi whined... but Pepper's fingers and hand
continued stimulating some of Tippi's favorite nerve
"Well, yes or no?" Pepper chuckled. "Which is it?"
"Stop doing that!" Tippi whimpered.
"Doing what?" Pepper continued frigging Tippi's private
"You know what! The thing with the hand and the
Pepper still didn't stop. "This thing here?" The
diddling digits in question fluttered in a most invigorating/indecent
"Last chance," Pepper purred. "It will help you
relax. Are you absolutely sure you want me to
"Ahhhhh!" Tippi bucked, twisted, and shook her entire
body, fighting her bonds and Pepper's embrace.
"Ahhh-Mrrrmpfh!" Pepper's hand was back over Tippi's
"I really do think you'd feel better if you let me continue,"
Pepper whispered, "but I'll stop if you insist."
"MrrrRRRrrrRRRRRH!" And then, Tippi collapsed in Pepper's
arms, panting through her hand-gag, her breasts heaving.
She was also sweating, slightly, and her skin was rather
Pepper released her hand-gag, but not her full body
embrace. "Well, if you change your mind, just let me
know... unless I'm asleep."
Tippi was quite obviously basking in the afterglow of an
exhausting albeit rather quick orgasm. Brevity
aside, however, the experience had been... remarkable.
Meanwhile, her arms and legs still wrapped around her young
guest, Pepper had closed her eyes, wished her panting
guest/victim "Good night" in a quiet whisper, and was lying
perfectly still. Apparently, she was serious about the
falling sleep bit.
Tippi's heart rate and breathing slowly returned to...
normal? However, she realized she was exhausted, could
think of absolutely nothing that really needed to be said... at
the moment... and had no trouble drifting off to sleep without
Pepper let a few minutes pass... then opened her eyes and
slowly, carefully extricated herself from the now quite
obviously slumbering Tippi. She then planted a gentle kiss
on Tippi's forehead, snuggled close to her precious prisoner
without embracing her wonderful body, heaved a quiet sigh, and
closed her eyes, again. Technically, Pepper knew she'd
violated the "no means no" clause of Tippi's contract, but she
was willing to justify her actions and face the
consequences. And a delicate thrill rippled
through her body as she contemplated the range of consequences
her big sister might impose.
||Trying New Things