B O N D A G E I S O U
T T H E R E
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ONE WEEK LATER
into the conduct of Special Agent Dana Scully's handling of the
Bondarella investigation had been going on for nearly an hour. So
far, Assistant Director Sanford
Harris, the head of the Bureau's Internal Affairs Division, had done
almost all of the questioning.
"Explain again why you ignored established
from an active crime scene," Harris demanded.
Before Scully could answer, AD Walter Skinner, sitting to Scully's
right, leaned over and spoke into the microphone. "That question
has been asked and answered three
times, Harris," he muttered.
"And I'll keep asking it until I get something resembling an adequate
Harris sneered. It had been clear from the beginning that he was
anything but sympathetic to Scully's cause. What should have been
mere formality was being handled like a prosecution.
"I believed the safety of a member of the Senate was my overriding
"A 'concern' which was entirely hypothetical at the time," Harris
noted, "and could have and should have
the Metro Police."
"My team was already up to speed and in the immediate area," Scully
responded. "As Senior
"You should have remained in place," Harris interrupted, "and let the
Metro Watch Commander handle the deployment."
Skinner spoke, again. "That's the best you can
come up with, Sanford?" he muttered.
"Assistant Director Skinner, "Harris intoned, "I remind you that you
are not a member of this board and are here entirely as a
courtesy. If you can't show the required professionalism—"
barked. "You're turning this into a farcical witch-hunt."
"Skinner," Harris responded, with a gloating smile, "I'm afraid I'm
going to have to ask you to—" Harris' smile froze, his eyes
widened, and he scrambled to his feet so quickly he nearly toppled over
other members of the board also stood.
Scully and Skinner followed his gaze, then quickly climbed to their
feet, as well.
The Director of the FBI and Senator Shannon McMurphy were entering the
conference room through the side door.
"Excuse me for interrupting, Harris," the Director said as he walked to
Scully and Skinner's table. "A pleasure to see you
again, Agent Scully," he said as he shook Scully's hand.
"Thank you, Director," Scully said. She was a little
flustered. It was difficult to shift gears from very carefully
repressed anger to
"Hello, Dana," Senator McMurphy purred. She shook Scully's hand
her on the cheek.
"Senator," Scully responded with a smile
"Walter," the Director said, shaking Skinner's hand. "How are
things going in here?"
"Uh, I'd prefer to give you my answer in writing, Director," Skinner
said, "after the hearing is over."
The Director slapped Skinner's shoulder. "Not necessary," he said
a grin, then turned to the front table. "Harris," he
continued. "I've read the reports and the Senator has been kind
enough to personally go over her statement with me. I've already
signed off on this matter." He smiled at Scully. "And that
commendation for Special Agent Scully and her entire team." His
back was to Harris and the others. "Agent Scully, Walter, have
you had lunch?"
"No, sir," Skinner answered.
"Well, the Senator and I are heading for the executive dining
room," the Director
continued. "Please join us at my table. I believe today's
some sort of salmon." Carefully ignoring Harris, Scully
and Skinner followed the Director and Senator out the side door.
Sanford Harris stared at the closed door for several seconds, then
his subordinates. "Let's go," he huffed, and started
gathering his papers.
"But they can't disband the task-force!"
Veronica complained. "We have to catch that bitch! And the other bitches."
"Especially Betty," Lindsay
Veronica favored Lindsay with a coy smile. "As if you wouldn't like a chance to slap
cuffs on Belladonna."
"Emphasis on 'slap'," Lindsay chuckled.
Gracie joined the exchange. "And punch, and kick, and—"
"Especially kick," Megan
"Enough," Scully laughed. "Let me finish. This task force
and the group that was looking for you—" She nodded
at Megan and Gracie. "—are being merged into one effort under the
"They're making it a routine, ongoing investigation," Gracie muttered.
"Which is not necessarily a bad thing," Scully said. "There will
be no more infighting and turf battles." She smiled at
Veronica. "You'll remain on the case, Agent Mars. You're
transferred, along with the files."
"And the other useless paraphernalia," Lindsay added.
Veronica smiled, and opened her mouth to deliver what would no doubt be
devastatingly dry and pithy comeback—then froze. Her gaze
returned to Scully, and her smile had become an expression of open
astonishment. "The D.C.
Office?" D.C. was a plum assignment, especially for a rookie.
Scully nodded, then focused on Claudia. "Investigatrice Bosco," she
continued, "the Director would also like you to
remain with the investigation."
"Yeah, try and keep her away," Gracie muttered, and the group laughed.
"Of course," Claudia responded. "I remain."
"Lyon has already been advised," Scully said, then turned to
Megan. "And as for you, a certain Captain Ross has been calling
the Hoover Building every other day, ever since you left New York,
demanding to know when you'd be returning to his squad."
Megan smiled. "I take it my services are no longer required by
"I would never put it that
way," Scully said, "but, yes, the end of next week, the Bureau is
releasing you back to New York's Finest, with the Director's personal
thanks." Her smile shifted to Lindsay. "You're
a bit more of a problem, Detective Boxer."
"Like I've never heard that before,"
a wry smile.
"Homeland Security, the Bureau, and several other federal agencies are
fighting over your reassignment," Scully explained.
"Hmm..." Gracie purred, looking Lindsay up and down from head to
toe. "The Park Service," she said, finally. "You'd look
good in a Smokey the Bear hat."
"Hilarious," Lindsay drawled. "I assume I'll have something to
say about it."
Scully nodded, then gazed at Gracie.
"Okay, spit it out," Gracie muttered. "What Boondocks, Podunk,
middle-of-nowhere backwater of the Bureau will be blessed with my presence?"
"Actually," Scully responded, "you're in much the same 'predicament' as
Detective Boxer, only in-house. LA, New York, Chicago, and
Atlanta are all bidding for you, as is Counterintelligence. When
the dust settles, you'll probably have your pick of assignments."
"What about you?" Veronica blurted, then a blush colored her
cheeks. "Uh, I mean, what about you, ma'am?"
Scully smiled. "When we close the doors on this office, next
I report to the Director's Office of Planning and Development."
"Wow!" Gracie gasped.
"Double-wow!" Veronica added.
"A good thing?" Claudia asked.
"It could be," Scully nodded.
"More like a sure thing,"
"Don't make any serious blunders—like taking a piss in the Director's
trashcan—and you're on your way to AD."
"At least not while he's in the room," Veronica said gravely.
"The trashcan, I mean."
"You're hopeless," Lindsay sighed, and the group laughed.
"Anyway," Scully continued, "get your files
ready for the transfer, and make sure Agent Mars and Investigatrice Bosco are up to
speed and are ready to brief their new boss the end of
next week." She smiled at Veronica and Claudia. "You'll
Agent Starling. I've never worked with her, but she has a
"I've heard the same thing," Gracie nodded, then focused on
Scully. "If we work through the weekend—"
"No need," Scully interrupted, shaking her head. "There are no
new leads and the D.C. Office is already at work on what we do
The final forensic reports on the mountain of bondage equipment,
computers, and everything else recovered from the gallery and the
laundry truck won't
clear for another week to ten days. And as for the internet
connections... The Cyber Division and NSA aren't
optimistic. We could all use a little down-time. Finish the
day and we'll
pick things up on Monday."
"I wonder if I can claim a weekend-long spa treatment on my expense
"Probably," Lindsay chuckled.
"I could come along and countersign the receipts," Veronica suggested.
The group laughed and began to disperse. Scully's office door
closed... and she was alone. She turned and faced the
window. Nothing was stirring across the river, no taxiing
jetliners, anyway. Cars and trucks were speeding along the
airport's side roads, as always. Yes, things had come to a nice,
tidy conclusion, with one minor exception...
Scully gazed at her reflection in the glass. Her features were
a grim stare, and she realized her fists were clinched. We haven't caught the bitch!
Scully forced herself to relax, taking deep, even breaths. You'd think that after years on the
used to cases going cold or coming to a less
than satisfying conclusion, she mused, but I really wanted to catch that
bitch... and her companions
Well... Bondarella is Clarice
Starling's problem, now. Scully managed a weak
smile. And so is Veronica Mars.
Scully returned to her desk, sat, and started composing the Agent
Assessment Report that would go in Veronica's file, marking the
occasion of her first transfer.
late. Scully and her team—soon to be her ex-team—had enjoyed a long,
dinner at the J&G Steakhouse.
table on a Friday had not required
miracle, thanks to Scully having the
foresight to let Senator McMurphy's office make the reservation, and
the place had lived up to its reputation.
Fashion-wise, the team had pulled out
all the stops, wearing their best gowns or cocktail dresses.
Being seasoned investigators, Gracie, Lindsay, and Claudia had some
version of the "little-black-dress" in their traveling
wardrobes. One had to be prepared for all social occasions, even when on
special assignment in a strange city.
Lindsay had taken the rookie to the Pentagon City Mall, at lunch, to
shop for something suitable. It wasn't that
Veronica Mars needed help dressing herself, but she'd confessed she
didn't have anything appropriate in her closet—other than a High School
prom dress buried somewhere in the back. They'd returned with a
spaghetti-strap sheath in ivory satin, and Veronica had looked great in
They'd all looked
their dresses were sleeveless, with plunging necklines and narrow
straps, or, they were strapless. Megan's dress was a
dark brown spaghetti-strap number with metallic bronze trim.
Lindsay's was charcoal gray, and was very
low-cut, in front and
back. Gracie had worn a deep burgundy, strapless dress, and
Claudia was in
a tight, black, mini-skirt-short sheath. Finally, Scully's dress
was short, black, and strapless, but with a
transparent, cape-like stole of black organza. Scully
smiled as she closed her front door and turned the deadbolt lock.
Come to think of it, she
mused, only Claudia and myself were
black dresses'. She stepped out of her heels, picked them
up, and headed for her bedroom.
It had been a ton of fun dressing to the nines and being a part of a
gaggle of "hot babes".
Showing a lot of skin, turning every head in the restaurant, including the jealous female
escorts of the male diners, flirting unmercifully
with their waiter (but compensating the poor guy with a
handsome tip), accepting free cocktails and bottles of wine from
their fellow diners (and audience)... yes, it had been fun, and
didn't get to do very often, on her own or as part of a group.
hung up her dress, then peeled off her
pantyhose and panties. (The very
low back of her dress had precluded the wearing of
a bra.) She padded into the
bathroom and started filling the tub,
adding a sprinkling of bubble bath beads. She lit a scented
candle but didn't turn off the bathroom's overhead light. She
to fall asleep in the tub. The plan was to enjoy a relaxing
soak... and then
climb directly into
bed. Tomorrow... breakfast, the morning paper, and later... much later... a relaxing run
through the park. She pinned up her hair, then settled into the
bubbly, steaming water—being careful to keep her face and hair above
the surface as she
lay back against the curve of the tub.
Scully sighed, in total contentment, and let her eyelids droop
It felt sooo good...
and the mineral salts in the bubble bath gave the water a silky feeling
skin.... and the floral fragrance of the soap complemented the earthy
scent of the glowing candle. She'd worry about Bondarella
later. She'd worry about everything
later... on Monday. So
her? Haven't caught her yet! she corrected herself.
The bitch will make a
Scully was sleepy... very sleepy.
I'm really out of it, she
realized... and the water was beginning to cool. She lifted
her right leg—which took a surprising amount of effort—and used her
toes to trigger the drain lever. With a gurgling sound, the water
level began to drop. Sooo
tired, she thought, then grabbed the sides of the tub with her
hands and hauled herself to a sitting position... or tried,
anyway. She settled back down into what was left of the
water. Her muscles felt weak and heavy. What... what the hell is wrong with me?
she wondered, and tried to sit up, again. What...
Scully closed her eyes, and her wet, naked, soapy body went completely
A leather-clad figure entered the bathroom, moving silently on
rubber-soled boots. She gazed down at Scully's unconscious form
through the one-way glass faceplate of her gas mask.
"So beautiful," Bondarella sighed. "So very beautiful."
She was in her bedroom, on her bed,
and she was naked, on her back, with her arms and legs splayed wide in
spread-eagle. Her wrists and ankles were locked in thick, wide
manacles and shackles of chromed steel. The restraints
were close-fitting, their interiors sculpted to match her wrist and
ankle anatomy, and she could
tell they were padded with either leather or some
sort of dense foam. They had no apparent locks, but Scully could
see a tiny, circular opening in the edge of each manacle. Heavy,
attached steel chains stretched to the four
corners of the bed and disappeared from view. Scully tugged on
the chains and found she had an inch or two of slack, until the thick,
welded links clicked taut. The far ends were solidly attached to
lower bed frame, in some way. The bed didn't even shake as she
Scully would have called for help, and one of her neighbors might have
heard her, but a wide strip of tape was plastered over her mouth.
Her urgent, mewling complaints were loud in her own ears and the
bedroom, no doubt, but she knew she couldn't possibly be heard in the
adjacent apartments. The only time she'd ever been aware of her
neighbors' activities was on the infrequent occasion when a previous
tenant had blasted his stereo, and even that had been barely audible.
She looked down her naked body. The bedroom and bathroom lights
were off, but several
candles glowed on the the nightstands and her chest of drawers.
Her skin was dry, and her hair felt dry, as well. Either she'd
been in her current predicament for some time, or—
"Good, you're awake," an all-too-familiar voice noted from the open
It was Bondarella, dressed in her signature costume of black leather
boots, catsuit, gloves, and black carnival mask. Her long, dark
hair was pulled back in
tight ponytail, and it glistened like oiled silk in the
candlelight. She sauntered to the foot of the bed and gazed down
at her prisoner, gloved hands on hips.
"The effects of my sleepy-gas are quite predictable," Bondarella
purred. "You really should consider changing your locks, and
installing a home security system." She strolled to the side
of the bed and sat, even with Scully's waist. "Of course, the
thought might have already occurred to you—but you've been busy,
you." She reached out and cupped Scully's left breast with one
gloved hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Scully growled through her taped lips and glared at her captor.
"I thought we should talk, before I leave the continent," Bondarella
explained. "I could have said my goodbyes to one of the
others..." She gently caressed Scully's left nipple between her
thumb and index finger. "But I simply love your skin,
Dana." She let her hand trail down Scully's flat tummy, until her
palm rested on her navel. "So smooth and pretty... Do you
freckle in the sun, Dana?"
Scully ignored the question. Under the circumstances, it was
"I suspect you do," Bondarella continued. "At least, a
little. I imagine your shoulders, arms, breast, nose, and cheeks
take on a delicate, dappled blush of reddish gold flecks, after
exposure... not like
now. Your entire body shines like pale, unblemished, peachy-pink
ivory." Her hand slid lower, until her gloved fingers
parted Scully's copper-red pubic bush and nudged the top margins of her
Scully bucked and rolled her hips, and forced a mewling complaint past
her tape-gag, but was unable to squirm away.
"Don't bother, Dana," Bondarella chuckled. "Those cuffs and
chains are strong enough to hold Wonder Woman or the She-Hulk. I like the
caress of well-conditioned hemp, but I also like to mix things up, and
there's something to be said for
the delicious total helplessness
of cold steel, don't you agree?"
Breasts heaving and nostrils flaring, Scully stared at her
"While you were at the restaurant, I installed a telescoping framework
of steel pipes to the underside of
your bed frame," Bondarella explained. "The entire
system is cross-braced and bolted to the existing
frame. That's why the bed doesn't even shake when you struggle."
her finger slid along the length of Scully's slit, and the prisoner
and moaned through her gag. "An Allen driver of the proper gauge
to open your bonds is on your
kitchen table," Bondarella said. "After careful consideration,
I've decided Agent Mars will be the one I'll notify of your
situation." The massage of Scully's flushed sex continued, as
did her angry, squirming resistance. "I seriously considered
reversing the roles for this, my final American scenario," Bondarella
said. "I never got to play with your 'Rookie', but Claudia—my Claudia—says she is a lot of fun, and the video of what
my Betty did to her is quite entertaining."
Bondarella's glove continued to slide, and her fingers framed both
margins of Scully's labia. Much to her humiliated chagrin, Dana's
body began responding to their skilled, gentle pressure.
"She's such a short little thing," Bondarella purred. "And so
feisty and smart. Such lovely, baby-oil tan skin—long, blond
hair—perky little breasts—sparkling, mischievous blue eyes..."
stopped. "There, you're nice and wet. The pump is primed,
so to speak, and speaking of eyes..." She reached into a pocket
and produced a pair of oval-shaped pads. "Hypoallergenic foam,
with a light adhesive," she explained as she peeled off the paper
of one of the pads. "Now, Dana, please close your right eye for
Dana glared at her captor's mask with both angry, green eyes, and made
no effort to comply.
"I've worked very hard to establish this pleasant, shall we say, romantic mood," Bondarella
purred. "It would be a shame to
have to take out my tit-taser and compel
your obedience. Please, Dana. It's a small thing."
Dana continued to stare... then sighed and closed both eyes.
There was no point in futile, "heroic" resistance, especially at the
price of jolting pain.
The pad settled over her right eye, there was a slight pause, and the
second pad settled over her left eye. Seconds later, Bondarella
lifted her head, slid a velvety soft cloth band over her already
covered eyes, cinched it taut behind her head, and secured it with a
tight, flat knot.
"There," Bondarella purred. "Now we can play without the
interference of all this leather, and this mask.
The bed shook as Bondarella did... something. Then, Scully heard
zippers opening, followed by what was
probably the sound of leather being peeled away from skin... and she
surmised her captor
was disrobing. She pulled on her chains and tossed her
tape-gagged and blindfolded head in helpless frustration.
"I have some massage oil warming over a candle," Bondarella purred,
"for later. But first..."
Scully flinched as a cool, smooth, strong hands gripped her
breasts. Seconds later, a pair of warm lips kissed her cheeks
and her taped lips. The bed shook
again, and Bondarella straddled her body, settling her weight over
Scully's body, her bare legs pressed against Scully's hips and
thighs. Her captor leaned forwards, took her hair in both hands,
and began kissing, licking and nuzzling her ears, neck, cheeks, nose,
anywhere and everywhere her skin wasn't covered by tape or the band of
cloth. This continued for
some time, as Scully continued to squirm, tug on her bonds, and mewl
through her gag. Their breasts were squashed together, and their
nipples slid against each other as they moved.
Suddenly, Bondarella climbed off Scully's body and the bed,
lifted Scully's lower body, and slid a pillow under her butt.
Seconds passed, and she lifted
her again, to add a second pillow. Scully was now very tightly
stretched, with her sex prominently exposed.
She's strong, Scully
thought. She's so very strong.
The foot of the bed shook as Bondarella climbed back onto its soft
surface, and her hands parted Scully's labia...
and then her warm, wet tongue slid across the sensitive,
crinkled, glistening folds of flesh. Scully went rigid, until her
muscles were corded and her
chains as taut as iron bars. The tongue continued to lick and
probe, and Bondarella's lips and and teeth joined the assault.
Scully emptied her lungs with a nasal hum—she'd been holding her breath
without realizing it—and panted through her flaring
nostrils. Her heart was hammering, and her captor's tongue
continued its horrible (wonderful)
Bondarella was skilled and experienced, especially at the task of
entertaining a bound, helpless, and reluctant "lover". She slowly
brought Scully to the peak of orgasm... held her there for several very
long, very intense seconds... then pushed her over the edge.
Scully bucked and struggled—screaming through her gag and tossing her
head—writhing in the throes of orgasm.
And then it was over. Bondarella was climbing off her body, and
the bed. Scully's breasts continued to heave and her heart was
"A good start," Bondarella purred. "That oil should be just about
Scully's breathing slowly returned to normal, and sweat was drying
on her helpless body, leaving the sensation of being flushed and cool, at the same time.
That witch, she thought,
weakly pulling on her inescapable steel bonds. That absolute bitch of a witch. She didn't know
whether to scream or cry; but she also knew her gag and blindfold would
absorb either reaction.
was a very long night.
Scully lost count of the number of times Bondarella made her
cum. Very little of her body was neglected by her captor's hands,
lips, or tongue—and then Bondarella had produced a particularly insidious toy, a double-ended
dildo harness with Ben-Wa balls running in
through its interior. Whatever the actual design, something pinged and vibrated every time
Bondarella thrust into her. Scully could only vouch for the
one dildo, of course, but Bondarella had said it was double-ended, so
probably was. Her captor's enthusiastic grunts and gasps whenever
she put it to use certainly reinforced that assertion.
Scully awoke with her gag, blindfold, and steel bonds still in place,
with Bondarella's naked body—she assumed it was Bondarella's naked
body—pressed against her left side.
"Good morning, Dana," Bondarella purred, and her hands and lips began exploring
Scully's body... again. "If you promise not to scream," she
whispered in Scully's right
ear, "I'll peel that strip of Elastoplast off your pretty lips and give
you a nice drink... but not right now." Her hands began kneading
Scully's breasts and teasing her nipples. "Right now, let's
celebrate the dawn with a nice, slow orgasm. I wish I
could give you a chance to
demonstrate what you've learned about the use of the
lips and tongue... but I know I can't trust you that far, and it would be unfair
Bondarella climbed onto Scully's body, with her head between Scully's
legs and her crotch close to the spreadeagled captive's gagged and
Scully shuddered and squirmed as Bondarella's tongue and lips began to
work their magic... again. Bondarella's moist, warm sex pressed
against her chin and gagged lips, and slid across her nose as her body
"Scream if I forget to let you breathe," Bondarella said.
Scully tried to close her thighs, to the degree allowed by her bonds,
but her captor's strong hands easily defeated her efforts.
Witch! Scully fumed.
Her tormentor's (lover's?) musky scent filled her nostrils. Seductive witch!
polite, speak when spoken to, and use your inside voice." She
slowly, carefully peeled the tape from Scully's lips. The
blindfold remained in place.
Scully licked her lips as Bondarella cradled and lifted her head.
"Slow, careful sips, Dana," Bondarella said, and held the lip of a
small glass to
It was water—cool, clear water—and Scully couldn't remember drinking
anything better. Bondarella let her drink half the contents of
the glass, then
took it away and gently lowered Scully's head back down to the pillow.
"Thank you," Scully whispered. Her feelings towards her kidnapper
hadn't changed, but it never hurt to be polite, and Bondarella hadn't
tortured her yet... this time. Maybe that would come later.
"Well, this has been fun, Dana, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to
take my leave."
"No!" Scully blurted.
"Oh... you want me to stay?"
"Uh, no," Scully responded. "I... I want you to tell me why you're
doing this... all of this."
"Why?" Bondarella laughed. "Isn't it obvious? It
pleasure, and I enjoy the challenge of the hunt. I think that's
why you fascinate me,
Dana—the challenge. Beautiful women are a dime a dozen, but a
beautiful woman with your intellect and spirit? A
rarity indeed. I knew that capturing a couple of police officers
would be dangerous, possibly my most dangerous hunt to
date. I was very lucky, but so were you."
Scully tugged on her manacles, and tried to organize her
thoughts. She certainly didn't feel lucky, at the moment.
She had to get Bondarella to keep talking, to get her to reveal
something... to make a mistake.
"And the Senator and reporter?" Scully asked. "Wasn't it even more dangerous to kidnap them?"
"They were for you, Dana," Bondarella chuckled. "I captured them
"We had several high-profile targets under surveillance," Bondarella
continued, "but those two practically volunteered. I gather the
Senator and reporter are, or were, planning a series of interviews, and
the semi-secret meeting my colleagues interrupted was happening under
the radar of most of their staffs and coworkers. I imagine it
will be some time before—"
"What the hell do you mean you did it for me?" Scully demanded.
"Inside voice, Dana," Bondarella chuckled. "Remember?"
"Why?" Scully growled.
"Claudia, by which I mean my Claudia,"
what she'd learned about
the misogynistic politics behind your task-force. I found it
such a team of beautiful, talented, dedicated women should be treated
in such a shameful manner... so I fixed it."
"By making us the heroes that rescued McMurphy and Lerner," Scully
"Exactly," Bondarella purred.
"An adrenaline junkie, maybe," Bondarella chuckled, "but I assure you I
am of sound judgment and reason. If you ever do manage to capture me, my legal
team will not be
mounting an insanity defense."
Bondarella had silenced her captive by placing an index finger against
her lips. She leaned close and whispered in Scully's right
ear. "I really do have to go, Dana," she said, "but before I
leave town, I'll send flowers to Agent Mars, with the enclosed note strongly suggesting she
visit your apartment at her earliest convenience. In
"M'mmpfh!" Something, probably a large ball of rubber foam, had
been forced into Scully's mouth, and immediately another strip of tape
sealed her lips. Elastoplast,
Bondarella's fingers smoothed the tape over her
lower face. She said it
"As soon as we finish our editing and polishing," Bondarella said,
"we'll be sending you DVDs of our adventure. That means
complete sets for every member of your team, of course. We
don't extend this service to our targets, but consider it a
professional courtesy." Her hand settled on Scully's stomach, and
began a gentle, circular massage. "Tonight is an exception,"
Bondarella continued. "Our little 'farewell celebration' will not be on the DVDs. I took a
few snapshots for my scrapbook, of course, but otherwise, tonight was
just for us, Dana."
Scully tugged on her chains and mewled through her new, more effective
"I have another parting gift, which I'm going to give you now,"
Scully's body went rigid. Bondarella was sliding something long
and thin into her vagina!
"Dana, meet 'Little Roger'," Bondarella said. "Now you'll be able
notes with Megan. She met his big brother."
Scully felt narrow bands encircle her waist and slide through her
crotch, then heard the dry zip of cable-ties as they
tightened to the point of dimpling her flesh. She surmised it was
some sort of cable-tie harness. Whatever the arrangement, it
Roger" in place.
"AC power, and a palm-size computer for a brain," Bondarella
explained. "He'll keep you entertained while you wait for your
Junior G-Woman Heroine to save the Damsel in Distress. I hope
Agent Mars is home when my flowers
arrive. It could add hours to your wait, otherwise."
Scully squirmed in her bonds. The vibrator was pulsing, but at a
intensity. She flinched when she felt something being pressed
against her right thigh.
"That's a heart rate sensor I'm taping over your femoral artery,"
Bondarella explained. "We've developed routines
for our Roger family of smart-vibrators that synchronize, or rather, harmonize with your
pulse. You'll find Little Roger to be very
frustrating, for the most part."
Scully writhed and mewled through her gag. The vibrator was pulsing with the rhythm of her
heart. Will it increase if I
became more excited,
Scully wondered, or will I
synchronize with it? It was an
interesting experiment, but one in which she'd just as soon not participate.
"I'm going to take a shower," Bondarella announced, "then I'll get
dressed and let myself out. Goodbye, Dana. Thank you for a very pleasurable hunt."
The bed shook and Scully was alone on the bed—alone but for the
persistent, throbbing presence of Little Roger. Seconds passed,
and then the
shower began to run, and Bondarella began singing, in French. Her
soprano voice, echoing off the tiles, was beautiful... but Scully
didn't recognize the song. A
very beautiful voice, Scully
conceded. I bet she's
beautiful, as well. Scully tugged on her inescapable
silenced by her captor's gag and blinded by her blindfold.
Bondarella's flowers weren't even on their way, yet. She
didn't want to think about the scene that would unfold when Ronnie Mars
and found her like this. It would be... humiliating.
Bondarella's song continued.
lou prat faï flour,
Li cal gorda toun troupel.
Dio lou baïlèro
lèrô lèrô baïlèro lô.
mused, and tugged on her chains, again. Little Roger continued to
buzz. Scully could tell he—it—wouldn't
bring her off... not any time soon, anyway. She's telling the truth. It is
intended to frustrate. A gentle form of torture... but torture,
The shower stopped.
I'm not going to catch her,
Scully realized. She's going
to get away with this... with all of this. I'll give Ronnie and
Claudia and their new teammates all the help I can, she vowed, for however long it takes.
Minutes passed, with no sound of Bondarella dressing or leaving the
apartment. Is she still here?
Scully wondered. Is she
watching me, right now?
Suddenly, Little Roger let loose with a strong, prolonged pulse—then
another—and another. This was not
frustrating, unless it was a
trick, unless the next pulse would never come—but it did—as did the
Scully writhed and moaned. Another orgasm was building, and it
would be a strong
one. Scully had had a lot of recent experience in such
things. This is going to
be good, she realized, a real
humdinger. The pulses continued—and continued—and
eventually Scully did cum,
it was a humdinger.
The pulses returned to their former frustrating level of intensity,
and their rate began to slow, as Scully's pulse returned to
normal. She lay in her bonds, glistening with sweat and her
heaving... and then the heaving subsided as her breathing returned to
So beautiful, Bondarella
mused. She set the program to trigger similar subroutines every
to hour-and-a-half, then slid her PDA into her pocket. She hadn't
donned her former costume, except for her boots. Instead, she had
a pair of designer jeans, a skintight turtleneck sweater, a leather
jacket, and a blond wig.
Her catsuit and mask were in a leather duffel, waiting by Scully's
along with everything else she'd brought into the apartment and didn't
intend to leave as "gifts".
A smile curling her full lips, Bondarella enjoyed the sight of Dana
Scully slowly writing on her bed
for another full minute; then she heaved a silent sigh. Well... I have a flower delivery to
arrange, she thought, and
other things, as well.
She spun on her heel and left the bedroom and Scully's apartment,
silently closing and locking the front door.
Back in the bedroom, her pale, naked, helpless body lit only by the
dim, indirect light filtering through the window's sheer, inner drapes
and the open slats of the lowered blinds, Scully continued to squirm
and writhe, and Little Roger continued to
buzz and hum.