| by Van ©2012
said I was sorry," Clem muttered as she coiled the lengths of
cotton rope and stuffed them into Gwen's duffel. "What
else could I do?"
"Yeah," Gwen huffed, "what else but gobble a gourmet feast at
the Faculty Club with Pappas while I'm locked in this hellhole
writhing on the floor bound and gagged for hours and hours?"
"Geesh, over-dramatize much?" Clem returned the ball-gag
to the side pocket, zipped the duffel closed, and watched her
It was nearly nine o'clock and ATTIC 3B NORTH of Nicholson Hall
(aka the Room of Requirement) was pretty dark. The
roommates had replaced the light bulbs in the four dangling
overhead fixtures, but in a unique manner. One fixture was
given over to laptop recharging duty through the use of a
screw-in tap, an extension cord, and a power strip. The
power strip also powered a small reading lamp, but at the moment
the lamp was off. Three more taps allowed the remaining
fixtures to power strings of LED lights. They were of the
icicle variety, short vertical light strings dangling from a
horizontal run of twisted wires. Most such lights are
intended to hang along rain-gutters and evoke actual icicles
(hence the name), but Gwen had gone online and found strings
with black wire and purple bulbs intended for Halloween
use. The roommates had strung the lights in a zigzag
manner through the attic rafters and the result was a random (a
Math major would say pseudo-random) field of hundreds of
tiny points of magenta light. The overall effect was
somewhat eerie, as Gwen intended.
Gwen zipped up her jeans, pulled on and zipped up her hoodie,
then sat back down on the futon cushion where she'd spent the
last few hours as a bound and gagged prisoner and laced her
sneakers. It was obvious she wasn't really mad at
Clem—not that she was gonna let her BFF off the hook, of
course. "So... what now?"
"Uh, I assume you're hungry," Clem muttered, "so we can go to
the Sac if you want." Sacajawea's, or "The Sac," was a
popular burger joint and student hangout just off campus.
Clem knew Gwen was particularly fond of their bison-burger on a
fry-bread bun with everything. "My treat. I'll watch
you eat and continue apologizing 'til you tell me to shut up."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "I mean this summer. What
about this summer?" Clem had already explained about
Professor Pappas' job offer. "Where are you gonna stay?"
Clem shrugged. "Pappas said I could crash at her place if
they won't let me stay in the dorm."
"And I go home alone," Gwen sighed, "abandoned again."
"Oh, boo-hoo," Clem responded. Her brow knitted in
Gwen smiled. "Hey what?"
"If you stay here with me," Clem suggested, "we can get
the job done in no time, maybe just a couple of weeks, and still
have time to lounge around your pool—I mean stay at your
parents' house—for most of the summer."
"I knew you only loved me for the pool," Gwen teased.
"Okay, off to the Sac, and I will stay and help you
count furniture—but I have one condition."
Gwen smiled. "Later."
The roommates left the attic, turning off the lights and locking
the door behind them. Clem remained none the wiser with
respect to Gwen's "condition."
|Oh, the Humanities!
Tori Ballantine watched Clem and Gwen bounce
down the front steps of Nicholson Hall. Her
shoulder-length blond hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail
and she was in uniform. In Tori's case that meant a pair
of brown hiking boots, brown jeans, and a khaki-tan Lewis &
Clark Campus Police shirt with the requisite arm patches and
name tag. Less formal than the other campus cops, Tori's
badge was clipped to her belt, along with her holstered Glock,
handcuff case, and radio.
Tori's radio was special, like her status. It was half the
size of the handie-talkies carried by the other cops and was
actually a radio, compact computer, and smart phone in one
rugged case. Her fellow officers teased her by calling it
her "tricorder." The device was a product of Salamandras
International's R&D Division and wasn't on the market.
Tori's special status was also linked to Salamandras. Her
position was funded by the corporation—"Sally-Corp" for
short—and Tori had come with the money. Transferred to the
campus force from Sally-Corp's security division, her mandate
was the oversight and protection of Salamandras' many
multimillion-dollar research projects scattered across the
campus. She trained and mustered with the rest of the
campus cops but was not on the regular patrol schedule.
However, Tori's job was anything but cushy. Industrial
espionage of classified research and/or the theft of sensitive
technology were constant concerns. Tori was kept very busy
checking on projects in various labs and offices—and that
included "special projects" that involved faculty and students
of "special interest."
Gwen and Clem faded into the distance, passing in and out of the
pools of light around the widely spaced lamp posts lining the
sidewalk, but never passed completely out of view.
Tori was well away from the nearest lights and leaning against
the trunk of a tree. It was one of several casual
surveillance posts she'd established across the campus.
She didn't spend all her time rummaging through faculty
files and using her tricorder to verify the bar-codes and
security transponders on hideously expensive pieces of exotic
equipment. Sometimes, Tori liked to just keep an eye on
things. It helped her fellow campus cops keep the peace
and kept the muttering about her flexible work schedule to a
minimum. And it was also a good cover for her "special"
Tori smiled. There she is.
A dark, slender, female figure had emerged from a side door of
Nicolson Hall. Her sneakers, jeans, hoodie, and small
backpack/book-bag were uniformly black. The hood was up,
but the figure's appearance and demeanor weren't particularly
sinister. The Lewis & Clark student body had its share
of Goths and Vampire-wannabes, so the black outfit might
have been a fashion statement. In any case, the "creature
of the night" was following Gwen and Clem. If not
shadowing them directly, she was headed in the same direction.
As the figure in black passed from light to light, she did
more or less disappear... and reappear. She was
maintaining a constant distance from Gwen and Clem, but had
still done nothing Tori could actually call suspicious.
Tori pulled out her tricorder and tapped its screen to navigate
a series of menus. A map of the L&C campus appeared
and she made a finger spreading gesture to enlarge the scale and
zoom to her current location. Three tiny icons
appeared. The tricorder was pinging the student ID cards
of Clem, Gwen, and a third individual. The map locations
matched the actual locations of the two roommates and
the figure-in-black, confirming her identity.
"The 'Phantom of the Steam Tunnels' is on the prowl," Tori
chuckled under her breath. She blanked the screen,
returned the tricorder to her belt, and headed for the main
campus police office. She intended to stroll around for a
while longer, maybe 'til the midnight shift change. It was
getting nippy and she needed her jacket.
This could be an interesting summer, Tori thought, still
Suddenly, the tricorder buzzed, signaling an incoming
call. Tori pulled out the device, read the text message on
the screen—and smiled. The tricorder slid back into its
holster and she strolled away from the tree, heading in a
different direction from the roommates and the figure-in-black and
the campus police office. Her plans had changed.
|Oh, the Humanities!
fulfilled her solemn vow to watch Gwen consume a bison-burger
and fry-bread grease bomb at the Sac (stealing only a few of her
double-dipped fries in the process) and they were back in their
dorm room. "No," she said. "No way in hell. Not
"Why not?" Gwen demanded. "Aren't you curious? I
know I am."
"Your brain is curious," Clem huffed, "possibly
abnormal. You should donate it to the Neuroscience
"You've studied the book," Gwen said, "I've studied the
book, and I need closure for the horrible-evil-wicked trick you
just played on me." The book in question was Douglas
Kent's Complete Shibari Volume 1: Land, of course.
The trick was being abandoned in the Room of Requirement
ball-gagged and tightly and elaborately roped from head to toe
wearing nothing but her bathing suit.
"That's not fair," Clem complained. "You know I didn't
have any choice. Next time you want me to bring Pappas up
to the attic and show you off?"
"I'm not going to leave this alone 'til you say yes," Gwen
Clem sighed. Gwen could be a whining, pouting, royal
pain-in-the-butt for days when she got like this.
(And Clem was curious... a little.) "Okay, but
remember, what goes around comes around, and this is a one time
Gwen smiled and went to the closet for her duffel—not the small
duffel she'd taken to the attic—but her big
duffel. "Oh, goodie-goodie-goodie. Strip."
"Oh yeah, like that's gonna happen," Clem
muttered. "Don't press your luck."
"Bra and panties," Gwen chuckled. "Chop chop. It's
Clem rolled her eyes and pulled her top over her head.
"I'm curious and stupid," she muttered under her breath.
|Oh, the Humanities!
Pappas stepped from the shower. She was feeling very
pleased with herself. The plan was coming together.
Truth be told, the use of the word "plan" suggested a level of
scheming and control that would be inappropriate.
Clementine and her roommate might or might not behave as
expected, and she didn't even know if Gwendoline, the roommate,
would decide to remain on campus and help with the job.
She'd make the suggestion herself if they didn't arrive at the
obvious conclusion on their own. In any case, the
youngsters were almost certainly in for a summer of exciting
fun—and so was "The Phantom."
Kim didn't consider herself to be a manipulative person.
After all, no one could argue it was wrong of her to give her
students subtle (or not so subtle) encouragement to follow a
path they had already chosen for themselves, and being a mentor
was her mandate as Clementine's faculty adviser.
Kim toweled her body dry, patted her face, then tossed the towel
in the bathroom hamper. She then removed her plastic
shower cap and the elastic band that had kept her long, dark
curls coiled atop her head. She shook out her hair and
exited the bathroom—"Mrrf!"—and was immediately grabbed and a
hand clamped over her mouth!
Kim twisted and struggled and tried to kick, but her attacker
was strong and had her arms trapped behind her back with her
elbows crushed together. She was helpless. "Nrrrmf!"
"Hush," an amused and familiar female voice whispered in her
left ear. "Stop struggling or I'll put you in a sleeper
The hand left Kim's mouth, but her naked body was still helpless
in her attacker's embrace. "You're early," Kim hissed.
"I was already in the neighborhood," Tori purred. "Your
booty-call ruined my plans for the evening. I haven't even
"I can cook you something," Kim offered.
"No, you'll be otherwise occupied," Tori whispered, then kissed
Kim's left ear. "I'll fix somethng myself."
"Hey!" Tori had shoved Kim onto her bed. She bounced
on her stomach, then—"Ooof!"—Tori was astride her body, kneeling
on the bed with her denim-clad knees tucked against her bare
hips. Kim's hands were pulled behind her back—Vrrrrrip-vrrrrrip!—and
hard plastic bands tightened around her wrists. "I hate
those things," she muttered.
"Poor baby," Tori cooed. The things in question were "flex
cuffs," two thick, heavy-duty cable-ties fused together at the
clamp end to form a single unit. When closed around a
prisoner's wrists they formed a "═B" shape, with the "═" being
the free ends of the ties. "They cut my wrists."
"Not like my steel cuffs cut your wrists," Tori
responded, "and not if you don't struggle." She reversed
direction and bound Kim's ankles together with a second pair of
flex cuffs. Vrrrrrip-vrrrrrip! "You didn't
shave your legs," she noted.
"I don't shave them every night," Kim sighed.
"No problem," Tori laughed as she climbed off the bed and headed
for the bathroom. "I'll shave them for you."
"You can't shave my legs on the bed," Kim complained.
"You'll make a mess."
"Then I'll carry you back into the shower!" Tori called from the
bathroom. She returned to the bedroom with a pair of
panties in each hand. "These were the on the top of the
pile in your hamper, so I assume they're today's and
Kim glared at Tori and didn't answer. She knew what was
coming and there was no point in verifying the chronology of her
intimate apparel or in protesting. She watched as
Officer Ballantine opened the lower drawer of her bedside table
and produced a three-inch roll of flesh-colored coban bandage
"It's possible you might be late for work in the mornin',
Doc. Good thing Spring classes are over." Tori
climbed back on the bed, straddled Kim's waist, and settled her
weight on her tummy.
"Oof!" Kim complained, glaring at her captor. "You're
putting on weight."
"Watch it!" Tori huffed, "or I'll shave more than your
legs. Open wide."
Kim continued glaring, but did open her mouth.
Tori stuffed both pairs of panties into Kim's mouth, then freed
the end of the tape from the roll and took two tight,
mouth-cleaving turns around Kim's head and tousled hair to keep
them there. She then took several more turns, this time
stretching the tape wide to mummify Kim's lower face.
Smiling sweetly, she reached the end of the roll, tossed away
the cardboard tube, and smoothed the tape, making sure there was
a tight seal covering Tori's lower face from nose to chin.
"There. Now we won't disturb the neighbors." She
then leaned to the side and reached into the still open drawer
and pulled out a torpedo-style vibrator. Its glistening
shaft and rounded tip were a truly hideous shade of bright
purple latex mottled with swirls of lavender. "That is one
ugly color," she huffed, then twisted the ring at the
base and the torpedo began to buzzzzz.
Kim mewled through her gag and rolled on the bed, but she knew
she wasn't going anywhere (and was anything but upset about it).
Tori unlaced and kicked off her boots, pulled off her socks,
then reclined on the bed full-length and pulled Kim into a close
Kim tried to squirm away. "Mrrrf!"
"Settle down, Doc," Tori purred, and slid one of her jeans-clad
legs between Kim's naked and ankle-bound legs. "I am
hungry, but we have time for round one." She used the tip
of the vibrator to tease Kim's nipples. "Maybe I'll shave
your legs in the morning. It's gettin' late if I'm gonna
fix a midnight snack and boink your brains out."
Kim shuddered and tugged on her plastic bonds. Tori's leg
was keeping her from closing her legs—closing them enough to
keep the vibrator away from her crotch, anyway—and it was
already gliding down her body. Tori was tracing the
undersides of her breasts—Buzzz—and the flat muscles of
her abdomen—Buzzz—and the pubic bush she had just
threatened to shave. And then it was gliding over her
"Hush," Tori chuckled. "Save your strength." The
purple torpedo continued working its magic, and Tori continued
her wicked smile. "Don't forget, you're gonna have
to do me a few times before morning."
Kim continued writhing and shivering, and Tori continued teasing
her pussy with the vibrator.
"I watch you when you workout in the gym," Tori whispered in
Kim's right ear. "And you watch me. I've seen you do
it. Maybe the next time you slip into the steam room I'll
grab you and we can see if this thing—" She slid the tip
of the vibrator between Kim's labia and nudged her
clitoris. "—works in the heat." She began sliding
the torpedo in and out Kim's pussy. "That's another
advantage of flex cuffs. Handcuffs can get way too hot in
the steam room. Steel conducts heat much better than
Kim was getting close to climax. She tugged on her wrist
bonds and mewled through her gag. "M'mmmpfh!"
"Stop that," Tori chuckled. "You don't want to mark your
wrists, remember? Now... where was I?"
"Oh yeah, the steam room." Buzzzzz. "Imagine
a couple of students, say... Clem and her friend Gwen...
wandering into the steam room and finding the two of us naked
and dripping with sweat—you bound and gagged—me sliding this
thing in and out of your pussy—" Buzzzzz.
"—like this. Talk about your memorable college
"Yesssss," Tori whispered, then kissed Kim's ear. "Cum for
Tori. Cum like a bunny."
And Kim did cum—and cum—and cum.
"There's my girl," Tori chuckled.
Kim panted through flaring nostrils, her breasts heaving and her
skin flushed and glowing.
Tori turned off the vibrator and gave Kim's upper body another
hug. "You get so very pink and wet after you cum," she
whispered, sliding the palm of her right hand across Kim's
pussy. "Pink and wet."
Kim's breathing and heart rates returned to normal. She did
workout in the gym and she was in good shape.
Tori was enlarging her massage to include Kim's thighs and
abdomen, and was gently squeezing one of her breasts with her
other hand. She teased the still erect nipple. "I
wish I could keep you like this for a week," Tori sighed.
"I wish I could keep you bound and gagged and naked in your
basement, locked in that little closet next to your water
heater." She slid her index finger between Kim's labia and
her captive shivered in response. "I'd come over on my
lunch breaks and at night, take you out of your dirty little
dungeon, and fuck you like crazy."
"Yes," Tori chuckled. "Like crazy." She kissed Kim's
gagged mouth, then climbed from the bed and went to the walk-in
Kim sighed through her gag, snuggled against the rumpled
bedclothes, and watched Tori return to the bed with a large coil
of braided nylon rope. This wasn't Tori's first
visit. She knew where Kim kept all her "hobby
Tori hitched a bend of rope between Kim's flex cuffed wrists and
pulled the long free end through the loop, then did the same
with her flex cuffed ankles. She tied one end of the rope
around the upper right bedpost, then tied the other end to the
lower left bedpost. As a result, Kim was now loosely
hogtied on her bed. There was enough slack in the rope to
let her roll around a little, but the terminal knots were
impossible for her to reach.
"I'm gonna make a sandwich and grab a beer," Tori announced as
she strolled to the bedroom door. She paused at the
threshold and smiled. "Don't go anywhere."
The door closed—Thunk—and Kim was alone... at least for a
while. She knew Tori would be back.
|Oh, the Humanities!
green numbers of Gwen's alarm clock read "2:13." Clem's clock was
turned around to face her bed, but Gwen knew they agreed
to within a few seconds. The two digital displays were the
only lights shining inside the dorm room, but the drapes were
open and the campus lights below were providing plenty of light
for dark-adapted eyes.
Gwen's eyes were dark adapted, and had been for the last
two and a half hours, since shortly after she'd finished
"tucking Clem in for the night" and turned off the lights.
Gwen was in her usual spring/summer pajamas of panties and
tank-top and was in her bed, reclined on her back with the
top-sheet and light fleece blanket pulled up to her chin.
Her head and shoulders were cushioned by a pair of large pillows
and she was gazing across the dark room.
Clem was not in her bed. In point of fact, Gwen's
roommate was sitting in her desk chair in her underwear—bra and
panties—and she'd be staying there until Gwen decided otherwise.
Cotton rope bound Clem's wrists behind her back and the chair's
back with her hands together, palm-to-palm and
finger-to-finger. Tight bands of rope also bound her
elbows a few inches apart and lashed her legs together at her
thighs, above and below her knees, and her ankles. More
rope bound her to the chair, lashed around her waist,
cinched and looped above and below her breasts and across her
shoulders, and anchoring her bound ankles to the cross-brace
joining the chair's legs. Oh-by-the-way, Gwen had used
thin white cord to bind Clem's thumbs together and had done the
same to her big toes.
A balled sock was stuffed in Clem's mouth and held there by a
narrowly folded scarf tied as a cleave-gag—but that wasn't
enough. Gwen had also placed a second folded scarf over
Gwen's packed mouth and it was held in place by a third, more
widely folded scarf.
Wisely, Gwen had bound Clem's wrists and ankles and tied the
cleave-gag (with stuffing) before tipping her hand that
she intended to go bat-crap-crazy with her entire rope
collection and apply the Über-gag. All Clem
could do was stare daggers, squirm, wiggle, writhe, and mewl
through her very effective gag as doubled strand after
doubled strand of rope passed around her body, was pulled taut,
cinched tight enough to dimple her skin, and was tied off.
This was a blatant violation of the roommates' rules
with respect to bondage in the dorm. There was no way
Gwen could release her prisoner in a reasonable amount of time
if someone came banging on the door. Of course, there was
probably something like eight people left in the entire dorm,
and none of them were on this floor, as far as they knew.
The odds of a late night visitor were astronomically small.
Even more damning, Gwen had absolutely no excuse for the
thumb and toe bondage!
Clem's displeasure and condemnation were unmistakable, so Gwen
did the only logical thing: she folded a fifth scarf and
blindfolded her. She then kissed the tip of Clem's nose,
wished her "Good night," turned out the lights, and climbed into
Lit only by the indirect light of the sodium vapor lights
shining through the window from below, Clem fought her bondage
as Gwen watched. The web of rope dimpled Gwen's skin as
she struggled—and while her roommate writhed in her chair, Gwen
pleasured herself. Slowly. Quietly. She didn't
want Clem to know what she was doing, but she couldn't help
herself. After several long minutes, with the mate of the
sock in Clem's mouth in her mouth, Gwen did some
writhing of her own—and she came.
And about the time Gwen achieved climax, Clem accepted her fate,
which was—to put it simply—that of a bound, gagged, helpless,
semi-naked damsel-in-distress. She slumped in her bonds
and waited for her kidnapper to become her rescuer.
Gwen basked in the afterglow and gazed at Clem's bound
body. Her BFF's bra-clad breasts rose and fell with every
breath—the ropes tightening, ever so slightly—then slackening,
ever so slightly. She's so beautiful, Gwen
thought, lightly stroking her pussy. And she's gonna
be so pissed when I let her go. Gwen had already
decided to do that about four o'clock... or five... which would
be about the same length of time she'd spent bound and gagged in
the Room of Requirement.
Clem will want to take epic revenge, Gwen mused. And
won't THAT be terrible.
|Oh, the Humanities!