by Van ©2015
		Chapter 5

Well... Hayden thought, might as well get on with it.  She was thinking about thinking, of course, and she wasn't in a position to do much more than think.  She was bound hand and foot—actually, bandaged and duct-taped hand and foot—and her lips sealed with a single wide strip of medical tape.  The items on her mental agenda were:

1. Why the hell did I let this happen?
2. What do I think of the revelation that the others regularly play "D&D," meaning "Dungeons & Damsels," not to be confused with Dungeons & Dragons?
3. And why is this so much fun?

The problem was... there were distractions.  How was a girl expected to concentrate when Dorothy was bound to a chair in her underwear, chewing on a tight, thick cleave-gag (with stuffing), while Andrea was naked and squirming in a stringent hogtie on the floor, a rubber ball in her mouth, and her lower face mummified under tight, multiple layers of some sort of stretchy medical tape?  The Hobbits continued wiggling and writhing and, by all appearances, doing their very best to escape from Chloe's bondage.  Neither of them were making any headway, and Hayden would be truly amazed if they succeeded in shifting even one of the tight bands of rope restraining their bodies, much less freeing themselves.  This wasn't fake.  This wasn't stage magician or television bondage.  This was the real thing!

Hayden gave her own bonds a final tug and twist, then gave up.  Concentrate! she ordered herself.  Why did I let this happen?  There were at least two reasons:

Firstly, Hayden had always found the damsel-in-distress element of all genres of literature to be... interesting.  Like most kids, she'd played Cops & Robbers and Cowboys & Indians when she was young, and despite embracing feminism as soon as she understood the concept, she didn't mind in the least being abducted or captured in the course of childhood games and languishing in bondage... or pretending to, anyway.  Her brother and their playmates had been pretty pathetic captors.  She'd usually had to ignore the fact that she could squirm out of their ropes whenever she wanted to, so she was really only pretending to be their prisoner.

Secondly, Hayden trusted Sharon, Chloe, and the Hobbits.  There wasn't even a twinge of genuine fear that anything bad was happening, or would happen.  No, the twinges she was feeling, the ones between her legs, were something else, something else entirely.

And what about 'D&D' being an organized recreational activity at Tauton House?  Sharon and her tenants are really into this stuff?  The stuff Hayden found merely intriguing?  She decided it was a fortuitous accident, a chance to do it right, a chance to explore the damsel-in-distress dynamic in a safe space, with people she trusted and liked!

And finally...  Why is this so much fun?  That was complicated.  In the first place, bound, gagged, and attractive women are sexy—like the dark-skinned beauty bound to the chair and the naked, hogtied blonde writhing on the floor.  They're also sexy when they aren't bound and gagged, but... it's the damsel-in-distress thing, Hayden decided.  Hayden had had her share of boyfriends, and one girlfriend, for a few weeks, while attending Lewis & Clark, but her sex life had never been all that active.  She'd never been a party girl.  Hayden squirmed in her bonds, again, with the same non-result.  But this is fun, and erotic, and... fun.  In a word, she mused, 'complicated.'

The hour slowly ticked by and Hayden dutifully continued testing her bonds, but with nothing like the enthusiasm exhibited by the Hobbits.  Andrea and Dorothy were literally working up sweats.  Their dark brown and well-tanned skins were beginning to glow.  There was no beading and dripping of perspiration, not yet, but they were definitely glowing... and squirming... and struggling... and Hayden was finding it most distracting.  It looked like sorting out the rest of her feelings might have to wait.  Oh well.

Time passed... the Hobbits continued struggling (and glowing)... and Hayden continued watching.

Finally, all good things come to an end.  Also, all desperate countdowns inevitably expire and whatever horrible fates await helpless damsels finally arrive.  In this case, that meant Sharon and Chloe returned to the parlor.

Sharon sat on the sofa, lifted Hayden's tape-gagged head and tossed the pillow aside, then settled Hayden's head and shoulders onto her lap.  "How are you doing, dear?" she asked as she combed strands of Hayden's hair from her face.

Hayden gazed up into Sharon's smiling face, wondering how she was supposed to answer.  "Mrrrf?"

"Sorry," Sharon chuckled, then slowly, carefully peeled the strip of tape from Hayden's lips.

Meanwhile, Chloe had also settled down on the sofa and had lifted Hayden's bound feet onto her lap.  She'd left a small tab at the end of Hayden's duct-tape bonds and peeled it back, then began ripping away the rest of the tape.

Hayden licked her lips and swallowed when the tape-gag came free.  "I'm fine," she gasped.  She looked down her body and watched Chloe remove the last of the tape, then release the Velcro tab and begin unwinding the Ace bandage.  She focused on Sharon, again.  "What happens now?"

"Now, I put you to bed," Sharon purred.  The bandage and the sock padding fell away and Sharon helped Hayden to her feet.

"I still say I could have carried her upstairs," Chloe said with a grin.

"I know you could, dear," Sharon chuckled, "but if you tripped on the stairs I might lose a tenant, maybe two.  That would be very inconvenient."

"Indeed," Chloe chuckled, then focused her infuriating and gloating smile on Hayden.  "It's been a pleasure being your Dungeon Mistress this evening, Red," she said.

"Don't call me Red," Hayden huffed, then gave her wrists a weak twist.  They were still bandaged and taped together behind her back, of course.

Chloe reached up and gave a lock of Hayden's long hair a gentle, playful tug.  "What else do you call this?  Russet?  Auburn?  Titian?  All of those are lousy nicknames, except for 'Titian.'  Do you want us to call you Titian?"

"We can discuss that in the morning," Sharon chuckled, then led Hayden away, towards the stairs.

Hayden looked back over her shoulder.  Dorothy was still in her chair and Andrea was still hogtied on the floor.  "What about the Hobbits?" she asked.

"Dorothy and Andrea will be just fine, dear," Sharon purred.  "Chloe will take care of them."

Chloe waited until Sharon and Hayden had departed, then turned her now clearly predatory smile to the Hobbits.  "Yes," she said, "I'll take care of you."

Hayden frowned as she climbed the stairs to her attic bedroom with Sharon close behind.  "Uh, what about the rest of the game?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Sharon purred.

"The stuff we didn't use," Hayden continued, "the deck of cards, and all those pages in the notebook.  They must be there for something."

"They are," Sharon chuckled.  They'd reached the top of the stairs and she was opening the bedroom door.  She had to, of course, as Hayden's hands were still bound behind her back.  "Remember," Sharon continued, "tonight you're playing D&D.  The card deck and most of the binder are used to generate scenarios for AD&D."

"Advanced Dungeons and Damsels?" Hayden inquired.

"Exactly," Sharon confirmed, "although Andrea has argued that the more involved version of the game should be called 'Abducted Damsels and Dungeons.'  The rest of us think 'Advanced' is adequate, and more descriptive."

"I see," Hayden responded.  Sharon had led her to the middle of the bedroom and was ripping away the duct-tape binding her wrists.  Apparently Chloe had left a tab at the end of her wrist bindings, as she had with her ankles.  "How does it all work?  How are the cards used, and how elaborate are these 'scenarios?'  And—"

"Please," Sharon said with a laugh.  "The mechanics of the game are Andrea's bailiwick.  You should ask her to explain it to you."  She'd finished removing the duct-tape and released the bandage's Velcro tab.  The rest of the bandage unraveled quickly.  "Now, there is an additional element to the basic game, but tonight I've decided we'll dispense with it."

Rubbing her wrists, Hayden turned.  Sharon was rolling the Ace bandage.  "Yes?"

"After the 'hour of testing,' also known as the 'table-turning phase,'" Sharon explained, "there's one additional roll of the dice.  Which die is used is at the umpire's discretion, and I take into account the player's schedules, such as whether it's a work night, whether visitors are expected, that sort of thing."

"Yes?"

Sharon's smile turned slightly evil (or maybe it was Hayden's imagination).  "The final roll determines how many hours the damsel will remain bound and gagged."

Hayden blinked in amazement.  "Oh."  She imagined Dorothy inescapably bound to her chair... and Andrea wiggling and squirming in her tight hogtie on the floor... for hours... or the entire night!  This caused a ripple of, uh, empathy—Hayden decided to go with empathy—to quiver between her legs.

Sharon chuckled, leaned close, and planted a quick kiss on Hayden's lips, then spun on her heel and padded back to the open door, taking the now rolled bandage and the wad of used duct-tape with her.  She paused at the threshold.  "Anyway, since it's your first time, I've decided that instead of leaving you bound and gagged on your bed, I'll simply lock you in for the night."

"L-lock me in?" Hayden gasped.

Sharon reached into her jeans pocket, produced an antique warded key, and held it up.  "Don't worry, darling," she said with her usual smile.  "I know you have work in the morning.  I'll make sure you aren't late.  Goodnight."

Her eyes wide, Hayden watched as the door closed.  Then, she heard the distinctive sound of the lock turning.  "Uh, goodnight," she said, somewhat belatedly.  Locked in?  Hayden stared at the closed door as she absorbed the reality of her situation, then hurried to the door, turned the knob, and opened the door—or rather, she tried to open the door.  The door was, indeed, locked, and she was, indeed, locked in!

Still in something of a daze, Hayden walked to her bed and sat down.  She wasn't really Sharon's prisoner.  In the first place, one of the bedroom's garret windows was an emergency exit, in case of fire.  Sharon had demonstrated its operation when she moved in.  All Hayden had to do was open the window, lift the lid of the window seat/storage compartment directly under the sill, and toss the end of the ladder out the window.  The system would also serve in the event of kidnapping and unlawful confinement... like now.  And in the second place, she had her iPhone and could dial 911 any time she might want.

But that would spoil the game, Hayden decided, gazing first towards the garret window, then at her iPhone.  It was plugged in and recharging on the nightstand.  She then stood and padded towards the bedroom's half-bath, unzipping her jeans as she went.  Wouldn't want to spoil the game.

Disrobing, laying out her clothing for the next day, donning her pajamas, and her final preparations for bed took only a few minutes.  She slid between the sheets, turned off the reading light, and rested her head against her pillow.  Now, the only illumination came from a dim, blue-green LED nightlight across the room.  As her eyes adjusted to the near darkness, she could just make out the closed (and locked) bedroom door.

Hayden imagined herself still bound with the Ace bandages, the tape-gag still sealing her lips, and lying on the bed... helpless... all night.  Are the Hobbits going to remain bound and gagged all night? she wondered.

She thought of Dorothy, the Brown Hobbit, bound to the chair in her underwear, tightly gagged... all night.

And Andrea, the naked and stringently hogtied Pink Hobbit, tightly gagged and squirming on the carpet... all night.

And I can't help them, Hayden thought, because I'm still Sharon's prisoner.  I'm locked in!  It wasn't a cell in Jillian Foxwood's Stone Tower, but she was locked in!

Somehow, completely on its own, Hayden's right hand slid under the waistband of her pajama bottom and her panties, then began gently caressing her labia.

Poor Hobbits, she thought.  I'd rescue you if I could... but I can't... 'cause I'm a prisoner too!

Sharon was too excited to read.  She was in bed, with her head and shoulders resting on the pillows piled against the headboard, but she wasn't wearing her glasses and her book wasn't open.  Both were waiting patiently on the nearby nightstand.  It worked, she thought.  Hayden's reactions to the basic game were perfect.  Jillian was right, as usual.  Still smiling, slightly, the Mistress of Tauton House heaved a sigh.  The Mistress of Foxwood Keep had told her Hayden was a red-haired Gwendoline waiting to happen, and by all appearances it appeared to be true.  Sharon would probably have to make good on their bet.  Her hands found their way under her flimsy nightgown and panties, and her fingers began slowly, gently sliding against her labia.

Perhaps 'bet' is the wrong characterization, Sharon thought, and not for the first time.  It's more like a conspiracy.  Her arrangement with Jillian Foxwood, their recruitment of Hayden Carriger into what they joking called the "League of Ligation," was more of a joint venture than a wager.  Granted, part of the scheme was a formal agreement that specified consequences if Jillian was wrong or Sharon mishandled the situation, but other members of the League, Jillian's extended family at the Keep and Sharon's beloved tenants, would probably call that part of the agreement hedging, and not an actual penalty clause.  Sharon's stroking of her pussy continued—Knock, knock, knock—then was interrupted by a quiet rapping on the bedroom door.

Sharon's smile widened, just a little, and her hand slid away from her pussy.  "Come!" she called.

The bedroom door opened and Chloe stuck her blond, smiling head into the semi-darkened room.  "I just wanted to let you know that I've finished putting the Hobbits to bed for the evening.  Goodnight, Mistress."  She started easing the door closed.

"Wait!" Sharon ordered, still smiling.  "Get in here and give your Mistress a proper report."

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe chuckled.  She entered the room, closing the door behind her, padded to the bed, and sat.  "Uh, there's not much to tell, really."

"Well," Sharon purred, "for starters, where did you put them to bed?"

"They're both in Dorothy's bedroom," Chloe answered.

"And not in one of the upstairs closets or cubbyholes?" Sharon demanded, "or down in the basement?"

"Of course not, Mistress," Chloe answered primly.  "They're both on Dorothy's bed.  I was very nice."

"Nice," Sharon chuckled, somewhat skeptically.  "You released Salt from her hogtie, I suppose.  And you had to untie Pepper to get her upstairs."

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe confirmed.

"And?"

"I helped Pepper out of her underwear so she could get ready for bed," Chloe explained.

"And?"

Chloe blushed, ever so slightly.  "I box-tied both of them and lashed them to the bed, for safety's sake, of course."

"Of course," Sharon purred, "and the box-ties are for their sleeping comfort, I suppose."

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe said.  "It's easier on the shoulders, especially after a few hours."

"You removed their gags?"

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe nodded.

"So they can suck face?" Sharon purred.

Chloe smile widened.  "Like I said, Mistress, I was nice."  She stood, did a full-body stretch, then smiled down on her comfortably reclined mistress.  "Is there anything else, Mistress?" she inquired.

"Yes, there is," Sharon purred.  "Strip."

Chloe's blush returned.  "Mistress?"

Sharon's reply was an amused stare.

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe sighed, pulled her tank-top over her head, unzipped and removed her jeans, then unclasped and removed her bra.  Finally, she pulled down and stepped free of her panties, neatly folded all her clothes, and placed them on a convenient chair.  Now totally nude, she resumed her place beside the bed and placed her hands atop her head with her fingers interlaced.

"Bottom drawer," Sharon purred, nodding towards the nightstand.  "Cuff your ankles."

Chloe heaved a sad, long-suffering sigh—which didn't fool Sharon in the least—then opened the drawer in question, rummaged inside, and produced a pair of nickle-plated steel handcuffs (Smith & Wesson 100's).  She sat on the bed, leaned down, and clicked the cuffs closed around her ankles.  They were separated by a pair of steel links, so, if Mistress allowed, she'd be able to walk, but only with pathetic, severely limited baby steps.

Next, Sharon climbed from between the covers, reached down into the drawer, and pulled out a second pair of steel handcuffs.  They were Smith & Wesson 300's, separated by a steel hinge.  She eased Chloe down onto her stomach and cuffed her wrists behind her back, then reached back into the drawer and produced a 5½", reusable plastic cable-tie.  Smiling sweetly (meaning evilly) she gathered Chloe's thumbs together and zipped the tie, binding them together.  She paused a few seconds, then conducted a pinch-test, confirming that the blonde's circulation was unimpaired.

Needless to say, Chloe was now naked and helpless.  She smiled at Sharon and squirmed on the bed, testing her bonds.  "I take it Mistress wants me to warm her bed?"

"Mistress wants more than that," Sharon chuckled.  She gave Chloe's naked butt a resounding slap, then resumed her reclined pose against the piled pillows.  "Mistress finds herself in need of... relaxation.  See to that for Mistress, then you can warm Mistress' bed."

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe purred, still smiling, and began wiggling and squirming her way between Sharon's legs.  Mistress had been helpful by removing her panties and pulling up the hem of her nightgown.  It only took a few seconds for Chloe's still smiling lips to reach Sharon's glistening pussy.  Her nose wrinkled as she took a rather theatrical sniff.  "It would seem Mistress has already primed the pump," she purred.

"And it would seem a certain slave would rather spend the night hogtied on the floor than under the warm covers of Mistress' bed."  Sharon waved a warning finger in Chloe's impudently smiling face.  "Watch.  Your.  Attitude."

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe sighed, licked her lips, extended her tongue, and set to work helping her mistress relax.

Meanwhile, in Dorothy's bedroom, the Hobbits were, indeed, naked, box-tied, and lashed to the bed—and they were, indeed, sucking face—but only with difficulty.

Demonstrating her experience and expertise as a rigger, Chloe had rendered each Hobbit helpless by crafting tight, inescapable box-ties, with their wrists crossed and raised.  She's taken the additional precaution of wrapping the fingers of each of their hands with several tight, overlapping layers of duct-tape.  Their thumbs were free to wiggle, but their fingers were reduced to silver-gray flippers, and even clever, squirmy Hobbits can't untie one of what Andrea called Chloe's "puzzle-knots" with only wiggling thumbs and useless flippers, especially when said knots are carefully positioned to be beyond the reach of either Hobbit.

Next, Chloe placed the box-tied captives on their backs, folded arms, rumps, and legs on the bed—Andrea on the left and Dorothy on the right—then gave each a half frog-tie.  That is, she bent Andrea's left leg and tied her ankle to her upper thigh.  She then did the same to Dorothy, only with her right leg.  Next, she tied Andrea's right ankle to the bed's lower-right bedpost and Dorothy's left ankle to the lower-left bedpost.  Finally, she stretched a rope from the nexus of Andrea's box-tie bonds to the upper-right bedpost, then did the same to Dorothy, only binding her upper-body bonds to the upper-left bedpost.  The final result was two helplessly bound Hobbits, side-by-side, their bonds identical, but mirror-images.

Chloe had been nice, as she would later tell Sharon, in that there was plenty of slack for the captives to squirm on the soft mattress and even roll onto their sides.  At Tauton House, that qualified as a "very comfortable sleeping arrangement."  Chloe was not nice, however, in that she left only enough slack for the Hobbits to be able to come together to suck face only by struggling, straining, and eliminating almost all slack in their tethers.  And it took constant effort to maintain mutual contact with their lips and tongues.  Other intimate activities were impossible, except for being able to brush their erect nipples together.

"Just you wait," Andrea growled when they rolled apart to take a much needed breather.  "First chance I get, Chloe's gonna find herself in a category six, flying pretzel-tie, down in one of the basement storerooms, chewing on a week's worth of dirty panties and watching me brick up the entrance."

"Credit where credit's due," Dorothy said.  She was too tired to giggle.  "Chloe can be very inventive."

"And cruel," Andrea sighed.

"And cruel," Dorothy agreed.

Neither of them thought Chloe was cruel in the conventional sense, but taking part in Hayden's first game of D&D had left their proverbial pumps well-primed, and they couldn't do all that much about it.  In Tauton House, frustration of this sort was the very definition of cruel, rather than a special case; but even in their frustrated states, the Hobbits knew Chloe was not a sadist.

Andrea managed a weak, exhausted smile.  "Tomorrow, if we work together, I bet we can talk Mistress into some form of revenge," she suggested.

"Well, yeah," Dorothy agreed, "but don't forget, Hayden will get home around five, and Sharon will insist that everything be back to what passes for 'normal' around here."

"So?"

"Hayden is working both days this weekend," Dorothy continued, "so if we're cruel and unusual to Chloe on Saturday, Sharon might give her a chance for counter revenge after the librarian departs on Sunday."

Andrea heaved a sigh.  "I hate it when you're right."

Dorothy smiled, savoring the pout on her lover's angelic face.  Dorothy's LED nightlight was red, shedding just enough ruby light for her dark-adapted eyes to make out every gleaming detail.  She watched as Andrea's pout became a coy smile.

"I know," the blond pixie purred, "we suck her in."

"Suck I can live with," Dorothy giggled, "but... what?"

"We let Blondie continue her cruel bitch schtick tomorrow," Andrea continued, "then talk Sharon into super revenge Sunday afternoon!"

"And if Sharon decides you're 'topping from the bottom,' again," Dorothy responded, "you'll be the one in the flying pretzel-tie... and I'll probably be dangling right next to you."

"No guts, no glory," Andrea sighed, staring up at the ceiling.  "I didn't say it would be easy."  She heaved another sigh, then her smile returned and she turned her face to her lover.  "I'm tired, but I've got an idea.  Roll on over here."

Dorothy's lips formed a somewhat petulant moue, but she did roll onto her right side as requested, until checked by her bonds.

Andrea squirmed and wiggled until they were close, but this time her target wasn't Dorothy's exquisitely gorgeous face, it was the gold ring gleaming from Dorothy's left nipple.

"T-that's your idea?" Dorothy sighed.  "Why didn't we think of this before?  I guess we are tired."  She shivered in her bonds as Andrea's tongue flicked the nipple ring and her lover's lips sucked on the erect nipple.  "I'll give you ten minutes to stop that!"

"Quiet, you," Andrea giggled.  "I'm trying to concentrate."

"Don't forget, I have two rings," Dorothy purred, dropping her chin and  kissing the top of Andrea's head.

"I'll try and remember," Andrea said, then went back to teasing Dorothy's nipple.  It was hours until dawn, but they were both nearing the limits of their strength, just as they were already at the limits of Chloe's cleverly tied tethers.  It was only a matter of time until they were too tired to continue.  Andrea resolved to do all she could to entertain Dorothy's nipples (and rings), as well as her fellow Hobbit's full, soft lips and wet, warm tongue, for as long as her lips and tongue were able.