Boxing Kelly
by Van © 2004

Chapter 11

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Dawn led Kelly across the Behr compound and into the trees.  The rain was beginning to slacken, but it was still enough to drench the naked, bound and gagged prisoner in a matter of a few dozen paces.  Kelly shivered, but it was more in reaction to her delicious helplessness than the wet weather.  There was no wind to speak of and the rain itself wasn't that cold.  She shook her wet locks from her gagged face as best she could, and trudged down the trail behind her "Sword Maiden" captor.  She didn't bother testing her bonds, knowing the harness of wet ropes pinning her folded arms behind her back and her arms to her sides wouldn't shift or slacken, no matter what she did.

Kelly watched Dawn break trail ahead of her.  For the most part all she could see was the back of her captor's dun-colored cloak and the heels of her brown leather boots.  The wool of the cloak was either heavy in natural lanolin or had been treated, as the water beaded and rolled off its hood and shoulders.  They trudged along in silence, Kelly's enforced by her gag.  The only sounds were the crunch of Dawn's boots and Kelly's sandals in the leaf litter and the regular splash of large drops dripping from the trees onto the groundcover.

Kelly shivered again, this time from the wet warmth growing between her legs.  Except for the modern sports sandals on her feet, it was as if she had stepped out of the twenty-first century and into some fantastic medieval world.  The trail they were taking was unfamiliar, which only fueled the fantasy.   Where is she taking me? Kelly wondered.   What is she going to do to me?

The answer came almost immediately.  The trail opened into a clearing of uncut grass and wildflowers beside a small pond, but Kelly didn't have time to enjoy the cattails or stream violets gracing the banks, or the play of ripples on the pond's surface.  Dawn dragged her towards a side clearing and a set of heavy picnic furniture.  The trestle table was large, about four by eight, and the four chairs were solidly constructed of naturally bent tree limbs.  The furniture was all dark and richly grained, and the rain beaded and rolled off the smooth surfaces.

"That beaver pond I told you about," Dawn said, nodding over her shoulder.  "I'd throw you in, so you could take a swim..."  She turned and grinned at her helpless prisoner.  "...but you'd get all wet."  Kelly's response was to roll her eyes and shake her head, sending a shower of drops in all directions.  Dawn turned back towards the furniture.  "This set has been out here for nearly ten years," she announced.  "Would you believe it?"  She tied the end of Kelly's leash to the arm of one of the chairs then flipped a camouflaged tarp off an old trunk and opened its lid.  She extracted several large coils of rope and tossed them on the table top, then closed the lid and restored the tarp.  "Whenever my leftover shellac and stain jars start getting full, I come out here and give everything a quick coat.  I don't think I could reproduce this patina if I tried."

Without further preamble, Dawn placed her hands around Kelly's waist and lifted her up onto the table.  Her rump on the smooth, wet, cool wood, equidistant from either end, Kelly watched as her captor shook out a coil of rope.  A gentle hand on her shoulder guided her onto her back and bound arms.  "If you give me any trouble, I'll cut a willow switch and give your boobs a nasty thrashing... understand?"  Kelly nodded, shivering with dread (delight) and staring with horror (love) at her captor's grinning face.

Dawn lifted Kelly's right foot onto the surface of the table and began wrapping rope around the ankle.  Over the next several minutes she bound her captive in place, pinning her on her back with her knees bent, legs splayed, and her glistening sex at the very edge of the table.  She used an abundance of rope, banding and lashing the helpless redhead's upper thighs, above and below her knees, across her shoulders, and around her waist.  Connecting ropes, periodically knotted or hitched together, criss-crossed the table top, looping the corners, passing around the table legs, and across Kelly's body, dimpling her smooth wet skin.  Everything was tight, symmetrical, elaborate, and redundant.  Finally, Dawn lifted Kelly's head and shoulders and arranged the sole remaining coil of rope as a pillow, using her fingers to comb her prisoner's drenched locks away from her face and fan them out across and off the far edge of the table.

Dawn took a step back and stood, her cape falling back around her leather-clad body, her smiling face half-obscured in the shadow of the cape's hood.  Kelly lifted her head and locked eyes with her captor.  She forced a pathetic, whining plea past her gag and struggled weakly in her bonds (for her lover's benefit, of course).

Just then they heard the drum of hard rain across the pond.  Kelly lifted her head further and could actually watch the front of the approaching squall march across the churning surface of the water.  She whined again and squirmed in the implacable web of ropes lashing her in place.

And then the torrent arrived.  Dawn watched as the huge drops danced on the smooth, hard surface of the table and splashed down on her pinioned captive.  The water beaded and rolled off Kelly's pale, freckled skin as she struggled against the ropes.  Her eyes were tightly closed to protect them from the downpour.  Her nipples were rock hard and her skin flushed by the wet, pelting attack.  She lifted her head off her pillow of rope, and her wet, fanned hair seemed to drag it back.  Warm and dry in the protection of her cape, Dawn waited for the squall to pass... and savored her prisoner's plight.

After about a minute Dawn repositioned a chair close to the edge of the table (and Kelly's prominently displayed crotch) and sat.  The squall had begun to slacken and Kelly opened her eyes, blinking and shaking her head... then jerked in her bonds when Dawn leaned forward and used her strong, warm fingers to part the prisoner's labia.  Dawn smiled (causing Kelly to shiver with delight).  "And now I'm going to welcome you home properly," she announced, licked her lips with her pink tongue, and leaned even closer.

Kelly clinched her eyes tightly closed again, arched her back as far as her tight bonds would allow, and screamed into her sopping gag.
boxing kelly
Chapter 11
Debbie was still a bound prisoner: her wrists and hands mummified together behind her back with duct tape, bands of tape pinning her arms to her sides above and beyond her breasts, and more tape binding her knees and ankles.  She squirmed in her bonds in the middle of the living room carpet, rolling from her stomach onto her side, trying to make herself as comfortable as possible.  Her oldest sister had taken over the Evil Kidnapper duties from Dawn upon her return from shopping.  Dorey had been kind enough to remove Deb's tape gag, and had untied the end of the Brave Damsel's ribbon-bound braid from her formerly ribbon-bound big toes.  However, being a conscientious Despicable Villainess, she had left the ribbon-whipped loop in the end of her baby sister's braid as a reminder that it could be used as a convenient lashing point at any time.  Debbie gave her bound body a final half-hearted wiggle... and sighed.

Dorey reentered the room.  She had a large chessboard in her arms, using it as a tray to carry the box containing the chessmen and a couple of cans of diet soda.  "It's no use trying to escape, Princess," she said as she set the board on the floor.  "You're my helpless prisoner."

"You're no where near as good a gloater as Dawn," Debbie muttered, an impudent smile on her upturned face.  Both sisters were dressed in jeans and sweatshirts: Debbie's faded denim blue and pink, Dorey's tan and pale moss green.

Dorey popped the top on a soda, inserted a long straw, and carefully set the can on the floor at Debbie's side of the board.  "How 'bout this?" she inquired, cleared her throat, and struck a dramatic pose.  "You're mine to do with as I please, Princess!"  She then gave a cackling laugh and rubbed her hands together.

"Don't quit your day job," Debbie responded, perfectly deadpan.  "Zelda the witch is more frightening."

Dorey was busy setting up the board for a game.  "You're probably right," she sighed.  The board and pieces had been made by Dawn when she was a teenager.  "White" was blonde oak, and "black" was walnut.  The joinery of the board was exquisite, the squares tight and flush, surrounded by a richly grained border of medium oak, and everything covered by clear, smooth, multiple coats of varnish.  The chessmen were elaborately turned, based on a Mogul design Dawn had found in an art book.  Dorey hid a white and a black pawn behind her back, did a quick shuffle, and brought her fists forward.  Debbie leaned forward and tapped Dorey's right fist with her chin.  She opened the fist and revealed the white pawn.

Debbie took a delicate sip of soda while Dorey restored the pawns to the board and then took a drink of her own.  "What do you suppose Dawn and Kelly are up to?" the oldest Behr purred.

Debbie settled back on her rump, carefully lifted a pawn with her feet, using her big toes to grasp its fluted sides, and set it back down.  [1. P-K4.]  "Yeah... big mystery.   Whatever could they be doing?"

Dorey laughed and made her move.  [P-K4.]  "Dawnie's so lucky.  Kelly's one in a million."

"Yeah," Debbie agreed, making her next move.  "The least she could do is share," she mumbled.  [2. N-KB3.]

Dorey's reply was automatic.  [N-QB3.]  "You really are a spoiled brat, Brat," she said, a kindly smile softening her words.

Debbie stared at the board... and sighed.  "I'm sorry," she said, and made her move.  [3. B-QN5.]  "You're right... I just wish I had a Kelly to play with."

"You need to go into town more," Dorey suggested, reaching for one of her pawns.  [P-QR3.]  "Or maybe invite one of your college friends out for a visit. of your close friends?"

Debbie grinned at her oldest sister.  "You're as much a hermit as I am," she noted.  "We both need to get out more."

Dorey sighed.  "Yeah."

"Yeah."  Both sisters took a sip of soda, then Debbie affected her best cajoling smile.  "Uh... If I lose... would you use 'Hi-Ho Silver' on me?"

Dorey took another drink, regarding her little sister with a mildly disapproving (but indulgent) frown.  "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's the pet name for your favorite egg vibrator; the chrome plastic one?"  Debbie nodded.  "No penetration," Dorey continued, "'cause that would be gross!"  Both sisters shuddered in delicate agreement.  "I'll tape it over your hoo-haw, tie you up on your bed so tight you can't wiggle, turn it on, and leave you 'til morning."

"Fresh batteries." Debbie demanded.

Dorey laughed.  "If I can find any.  And if for one minute I think you're throwing this game... I'll tie you to a post in the barn for the night, and 'Hi-Ho' stays in the drawer."

Debbie nodded gravely, leaned forward, and made her move, this time using her mouth.  [4. BxN.]  "I always play to win," she purred.  "And if I win this time, 'Hi-Ho' gets to play with you."

"I am so terrified," Dorey laughed; then leaned forward, stared at the board, and considered her options.
boxing kelly
Chapter 11
Kelly could see nothing but the tangled curtain of her own wet auburn locks.  She was draped across Dawn's left shoulder, tummy down, feet to the fore, and head to the rear.  After being released from the picnic table (after several crashing orgasms), Dawn had bound her legs together from ankles to thighs, using a crotch rope hitched to her arm bonds to anchor the added bondage.  "Let's get out of this rain," she suggested (somewhat belatedly, in Kelly's drenched and dripping opinion), hoisted the prisoner onto her shoulder, and they were off.

The trail seemed to be climbing, but except for occasional glimpses of leaf litter, tree roots, and a few shallow puddles, Kelly couldn't follow their progress.  Then they mounted a set of steps, she was placed on her sandaled feet, and Kelly found herself home, at the back door of her cottage.

Dawn unlocked the door (she had her own key, of course), carried Kelly inside and set her back on her feet in the middle of the kitchen.  She hung her cloak and sword on hooks by the door, then rummaged in the cabinets and drawers until she found Kelly's cache of kitchen towels.  The helpless redhead received a brisk (and teasing) rubdown, including her tousled hair.  Soon the soft terrycloth had rendered her more or less dry, albeit her tangled hair, rope bonds, and gag were still somewhat damp.  Kelly was lifted onto the kitchen island's countertop, her borrowed sandals removed, and her feet dried as well.  

"Good enough," Dawn said, tossed the towel towards the sink, and hoisted her captive back over her left shoulder.

Kelly could tell she was being carried towards her bedroom.   Thank god! she thought, looking forward to being tucked under the warm covers of her bed.  Instead, she was plunked on her bare feet to balance precariously in her tight bonds near the bedroom door.  She shook her damp hair from her face, and found something new had been added to her decor.

The something in question was at the foot of the bed.  It was large and rectangular, shrouded by a gold satin sheet, and topped with a festive red bow.  From the position and size, Kelly surmised it was a hope chest, blanket press, bench, or something of the sort.

Resplendent in her "Sword Maiden" costume of leather boots, pants, jerkin, and homespun blouse, Dawn walked over to the bed and pointed at the left front bedpost.  "I've been busy while you were gone," she explained.  "I popped the cover of Deb's self-bondage mechanism, gave it a thorough cleaning and oiling, replaced the side brackets, and added teflon spacers.  It won't rack or bind anymore, no matter how hard you pull on the scissor clamp."

A dangerous (angelic) smile on her gloating face, she stepped forward and grabbed Kelly's left nipple in a business-like pinch.  "And if you tie yourself to this bed ever again without using me or one of my sisters as your knowing safety monitor..."  She squeezed her fingers until Kelly's eyes popped wide and she yelped through her gag.  "There's an old root cellar under a heavy trap door in our barn with heavy oak timbers, stone walls, and a lot of spiders.  It also has a set of heavy iron chains spiked to a timber in the back of a closet-sized alcove, and the alcove has a door of heavy iron bars that locks with a genuine early nineteenth century English padlock."  Dawn released her grip and Kelly shuddered in her bonds.  "If I even suspect you're doing unsafe self-bondage... you'll spend a week down there; naked; on bread and water; only a scratchy old horse blanket to keep you warm; manacled, shackled, belted, and collared—and no nookie."  Both Kelly's nipples were hard and flushed, and the captive shuddered again as her captor gave each a kittenish lick, first the left... and then the right.  "Of course, you're such a submissive slut..."  Dawn gave the right nipple a playful tug with her teeth.  "Hmm... a week probably won't teach you anything.  We better make it a month.  Okay?"  She licked Kelly's left nipple, then, one hand pressed the small of her back to pull her close, and the other delicately rubbed the prisoner's rope-cleaved sex.

Oh god.  I am a slut, Kelly agreed, writhing in her bonds, squirming under her lover's delicate touch, reveling in her helpless state.  Then her eyes popped wide as her right nipple was seized.

"I asked you a question," Dawn purred.  "One month?"

Kelly mewed through her gag and nodded frantically, then shivered with delight as her nipple was gently caressed... and then released.  Dawn's massage of her sex continued, and despite her fatigue Kelly could feel herself starting to respond... then Dawn's hands were gone, and the frustrated captive whined in complaint.

Dawn walked to the shrouded object and placed her right hand on the cover.  "Here's what else has been keeping me busy," she announced, and removed the sheet with one clean jerk.
boxing kelly
Chapter 11
Kelly gasped through her gag.  The object was a magnificent trunk.  It was hardwood and banded with black iron, had a slightly domed lid, and it was beautiful.  Dawn pulled a heavy key on a long golden chain out from beneath her blouse.  It had elaborate, asymmetrical wards, and looked as much like an elegant pendant as a key.  She inserted it in the trunk's lock, gave it a turn, and opened the lid.  Kelly hopped forward on her bound feet and looked inside.  The interior was thinly padded and lined with a loosely woven black fabric.

"It's a box within a box," Dawn explained, running one hand over the lining.  "The trunk itself is oak.  The joints are all tongue and groove or dovetail, and glued with marine epoxy.  The banding is flush bolted, and there are a couple of hundred tiny holes drilled for ventilation, all angled up and then down to keep the interior light tight, of course.  You can't even see them from the outside, unless you turn it upside-down and know where to look."  Kelly gave her dubious look.  "Oh, the system works, believe me.  I've used it before."

"The inner box is a frame of padding that slides right out," Dawn continued.  "It's a honeycomb of semi-rigid and soft foam, and the lining is loosely woven so it can breath... or to be more precise, so the contents can breath."  She turned and gave Kelly a smile that was deliciously evil.  "I'm working on other frames that will provide lashing points, grooves for stock and pillory slats, attachment points for straps, etc.  Each insert will secure the contents in a different pose: hog-tie, ball-tie, frog-tie, something Dorey calls 'the unhappy pretzel', etc."

Kelly shivered in her bonds.  She knew what "the contents" of the trunk would be.  She was the contents.

"The locking mechanism has six bolt pins that secure the lid," Dawn continued, "and the lock itself is a custom design manufactured by a friend of mine in a little town outside of Victoria, B.C.  It's nearly impossible to pick; and it certainly is impossible to pick... from the inside."  She walked over, lifted Kelly, and set her bound feet inside the trunk.

Kelly's heart was pounding (and her sex was embarrassingly wet).   Oh god!  Dawn's strong hands forced her to her knees, then onto her right side.  The ropes binding her legs tightened even further as her knees bent.  The trunk was just big enough for her to tuck her head against one corner and curl into a fetal fold.  Oh god!

Dawn smiled down at her prisoner and began unlacing her jerkin.  Captive and captor locked eyes as the jerkin was removed, then her wrist bracers, then the blouse, then her boots, and finally her leather pants.  Nude, but for the key on its chain dangling between her pert, full breasts and the narrow cloth of soft linen girdling her loins, Dawn leaned forward into the trunk and untied Kelly's gag.  She tossed the cleaving cloth over her shoulder, pulled the wad from Kelly's mouth, and tossed it away as well.  Then, one hand in Kelly's still slightly damp hair, she pulled the redhead close and kissed her lips.  The kiss lasted a very long time.

Finally, the kiss ended and Dawn stood erect, hands on hips and smiling down at her bound prisoner.

Kelly squirmed in her tight bonds, her chin nearly touching her knees, her body pressing into the padded confines of her prison as she twisted and writhed.  "You aren't really going to lock me in this thing... are you?"  Her tone was piteous (but there was a betraying sparkle in her eyes).

Dawn nodded.  "I'm going to take a nap in that comfortable bed over there..."  She nodded again, this time at Kelly's bed.  "And in a few hours I'll cook myself some supper.  If you're a good girl and don't make any noise, I'll cook some for you too.  Afterwards, we can share the bed and you can show how much you've missed me these past two months."  She placed one hand on the lid and began to slowly pull it closed.  "But if you wake me before I'm ready, I'll have no choice but to go home and sleep in my bed tonight... and you'll stay where you are... until sometime late tomorrow."

The remaining opening was now a narrow slit.  Kelly could see her captors cruel (loving) eyes, and Dawn could see the glimmer of her captive's upturned face.  "I've wanted to make a box to keep you in from the day we met," Dawn whispered.

Kelly shivered in her bonds.  Her feet, rump, knees, shoulders, and head were pressed into the soft but implacable padding of her "box."  She licked her lips.  "I... I like my box," she whispered back, reveling in her helpless plight.

"Hush," Dawn scolded her prisoner in a hoarse whisper.  "Good girls are quiet, remember?"

"I'll be good," Kelly whispered, but couldn't help making a soft, pathetic whine as the lid thudded closed and she was plunged into complete darkness.  Oh god!  The key turned in the trunk's lock, the bolts slid into their housings with the whisper of steel-on-steel... and all was still.  Oh god!

Kelly wiggled in her bonds, savoring the feel of the crotch rope sliding through her sex as she struggled.  I'm pretty sure I can ride that to climax, she decided, but can I do it and be a 'good girl'?  She sighed and stretched as best she could in the confines of her box.   Why'd she have to take my gag off?  Sadist!  Kelly sighed again and closed her eyes, deciding to try for a nap of her own.  She pictured Dawn sliding her perfect, athletic body between the crisp, clean sheets of her bed; settling her beautiful, angelic head on a soft pillow.   Would she toy with the key on its chain around her neck, the key to "Kelly's box?"  Would her other hand slide under her loincloth?  Would the side of her strong hand slide across the smooth, soft folds of her labia?  Would her fingers slide into the hot, wet tunnel of her sex?

Kelly bit her lip, stiffling an exaspirated sigh.  A shiver of horrific (delicious) frustration coursed through her naked, bound, encased body.   Sometimes it's very hard to be a good girl, the helpless (happy) prisoner mused, and tried to sleep.
boxing kelly
 Chapter 11
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Chapter 10