| by Van ©2013
a huge yawn before continuing. "Anyway, Inga unlocked the
wrist-cage thingie and my collar, removed the ball-gag
from around my neck, gave me a peck on the lips and a pat on the
rump, pushed me inside and locked the door... and here I am."
"And here you are," Clem agreed. Gwen had reclined on the
twin-sized bed soon after she started telling the tale of her
abduction by The Phantom. She'd sprawled against Clem's
loosely spreadeagled and naked body and there was significant
skin-to-skin contact, but it was all perfectly innocent and
platonic, of course. After all, Gwen couldn't sit on the
edge of the bed all night. What else can she
do? Clem thought.
"By the way," Gwen continued. "Inga said my gag was
pretty, that it looked like a fire-opal. Did it?"
Clem couldn't help but smile. "Yes, Gwendoline, your gag
was very pretty. Very jewel-like."
"Good." Gwen yawned, again. "So, I guess it's your
turn to talk."
Actually, it was Clem's turn to yawn. "Later, okay?
It's gotta be well past midnight. Let's get some sleep."
"You talked me into it," Gwen muttered. She reached down
the bed and pulled the top sheet and bedspread over both their
bodies, then snuggled for comfort against and somewhat across
Clem's pinioned form.
The feathers of Gwen's mask/blindfold tickled Clem's right boob
in the process, but Clem bit her lower lip and managed to
respond with only a little wiggling of her own. She turned
her head—an action allowed by the loose, padded collar padlocked
around her neck—and glanced at the pristine second bed, but
didn't mention it to Gwen. Truth be told, Clem was
grateful for the company. And Gwen's graphic description
of how Inga-The-Phantom had made love to her had nothing to do
with anything. Clem was the helpless one (at the
moment) and Gwen didn't need protection or comforting (at the
moment), and it wasn't like Clem was jealous or
anything. That was absurd! But...
Clem closed her eyes. I'll sort this out later...
tomorrow. She yawned, again. Whatever.
As far as she could tell, Gwen was already asleep.
|Oh, the Humanities!
flogged Tori's back, butt, and thighs for several very
Whack! ..... Whack! .....
Slowly, pausing between strokes—Whack!—Ellen worked her
way left-to-right and up-and-down across the back of Tori's
spreadeagled body. Whack! She was not
gentle, but she wasn't breaking the skin or leaving serious
marks. Whack! Granted, Tori's firm, dimpled
buttocks, strong thighs, and muscled back had become seriously
pink—Whack!—but Ellen wasn't causing any real damage.
After the shock of the initial blow, Tori managed to contain her
vocal reactions. Whack! She'd wince when a
particularly enthusiastic blow would fall, but that was
all. Whack! She glowered at her
audience over her ball-gag, and in response they smiled and
exchanged whispered comments as they strolled in and out of her
field of view. Whack! They were individually
going back to study the direct action of the flogger on her
skin—Whack!—then returning in a minute or two to enjoy
her reactions... or lack thereof. Kim, Megan, Bibi, and
the captive mouse Cynthia were having a ball. Whack!
Tori was not.
Tori focused on Cynthia. Okay, she couldn't be absolutely
sure her fellow naked prisoner was enjoying the show—Whack!—not
with her face hidden my the veil and that cute-but-humiliating
mouse mask, but it was a safe bet. I'll punish you
anyway, Tori promised the diminutive scientist. Just
to be sure.
There was an unusually long pause... during which the
suspense built as Tori waited for the next blow to fall...
then Ellen strolled into view. Through half-closed eyes
Tori watched the nearly-naked professor of Linguistics drop the
flogger on the table, returning it to its former position in the
neat row of torture instruments. Ellen then turned and
Tori noted the sweat glistening on Ellen's face... and her
breasts... and the rest of her. Of course, it was nothing
compared to the perspiration that was now almost dripping
off Tori's own skin, but it was clear Ellen had gotten at least
something of a workout—and in the process had earned herself
some serious payback. Tori met her smile with the
same gagged stare with which she'd favored the others, and
waited to see what she would do to her next.
"I think I'm done for now," Ellen announced, her eyes still
locked with her victim. "Who wants a turn?"
Bibi turned to Megan. "Shall we go together?"
Megan beamed. "How very kind." She joined Bibi at
the table and they smiled down at the array before them.
Bibi picked up a Wartenburg Wheel and tested the needle-sharp
spur with the tip of her left index finger. She delicately
winced, then her smile returned. "I was
looking forward to using this to explore Officer Ballantine's
entire body." She returned the wheel to the table and
picked up the torpedo vibrator. "But I can always do that
"Yes," Megan agreed as she picked up the wand vibrator.
"Enough spice. Let's try a little sugar."
The blond and redhead laughed, then strolled towards Tori's
spreadeagled and helpless form.
Ellen and Kim were standing close to Cynthia, on either
side. For the moment the mouse-prisoner's leash was
dangling loose, its terminal leather loop not around the wrist
of one of her fellow academics. It wasn't what could be
called freedom, however, as Cynthia had no place to go.
She might have tried scampering across the basement and
up the stairs, but the door at the top was closed and there was
no way she could turn the knob with her arms behind her back and
doubly encased—first wrapped in skintight, overlapping layers of
Sally's new "invisible" tape, and then zipped and buckled into
Kim's single-sleeve. Besides, one of her "captors" would
be on her in an instant. And even if she did make
it upstairs, through the kitchen, and across the living room,
she'd face the same knob-turning dilemma with the front
door. Cynthia sighed through her panties-and-tape
gag. Escaping naked, bound, gagged, and helpless into
the wilds of nighttime suburbia isn't a viable option anyway,
"We aren't really going to torture poor Tori 'til dawn?"
Ellen whispered, "are we?"
"After I tricked her into waiting down here all day?" Kim
whispered back. "Of course not. I already spoke with
Meg and Bibi. After they've made her cum a few times,
they'll take her upstairs to the back guest room."
Ellen smiled. "Where they'll continue making her cum 'til
"No doubt," Kim agreed. "I did make them promise to feed
her." She shifted her gaze down to Cynthia's masked,
veiled (and gagged) upturned face. "We should do the same
Ellen also smiled at the listening prisoner. "The
feeding... or making her cum?"
Cynthia shifted her gaze from evil smile to evil smile. I
could eat, she thought, and especially drink.
It had not been fun watching the others nibble
on savory tidbits and guzzle champagne all night while all she
could do was bite down on the three pair of saliva-soaked thong
panties crammed in her tape-sealed mouth.
Kim's whispered answer to Ellen's question was ambiguous.
By this time Megan and Bibi had reached Tori and were standing
close. They ran their hands and the buzzing vibrators over
her spreadeagled, sweat-glistening body. The "Captured
Villainess" was making a valiant attempt to maintain her stoic
demeanor, but it was clear from first contact that she was
losing the battle. Tori shivered in her bonds as
the vibrators caressed her breasts and belly.
Bibi and Megan exchanged a smiling nod, then simultaneously
released the clamps pinching Tori's nipples and enforcing her
"MRRRRR!" Tori went rigid in her bonds, then her entire
body quaked as the clover-clamps and chain fell away to swing
like a pendulum from the now vertical cord. The clamps
clattered together and spun on their chain, their tips not quite
reaching the concrete floor.
"You wore her out," Kim accused Ellen, still in a whisper.
"Otherwise, she wouldn't be reacting like that. Not this
"After you left her hanging from the ceiling all day?"
Ellen responded. "This is my fault?"
"She wasn't hanging from the ceiling," Kim said somewhat
defensively. "Her feet were flat on the floor the entire
time." She shrugged before continuing. "But your
point is valid."
Bibi was concentrating on Tori's breasts with the torpedo.
She paused to lean close and gently kiss her left nipple, then
caressed the pink nubbin with the buzzing tip. Afterwards,
she gave her fellow blond's right nipple a slow, wet lick...
then teased it with the vibrator as well.
Meanwhile, Megan was massaging Tori's lower stomach and thighs
with the wand's saddle, tracing a slow, circular orbit around
the prisoner's dark blond pubic thatch and the flushed, pink,
glistening folds of her pussy.
"Well, let's leave them to it," Kim sighed, then took hold of
Cynthia's leash and slid the leather loop over her right wrist.
"Why not?" Ellen agreed.
Cynthia's opinion was moot.
"We're going to get the mouse some cheese," Kim announced.
"Whatever," Megan responded as Kim and Ellen led the mouse in
question towards the stairs.
"We'll keep the Viking Princess entertained," Bibi purred,
smiling at Tori's grimacing, gagged face.
It wasn't clear whether the "Viking Princess" knew she was
losing the company of the departing trio. Megan had begun
sliding the wand across Tori's labia in a rotating,
figure-eight pattern while continuing to caress her tummy and
thighs. "Mmmm." And Bibi was playing the torpedo
back and forth across one nipple while gently sucking and
tongue-teasing the other. "Rrrrrr."
Kim and her captive climbed the stairs. Dress in hand,
Ellen followed. They entered the kitchen, and just as
Ellen was closing the basement door they heard a gag-muffled
scream—"MRRRRRPFH!"—from down below.
"That's one," Kim chuckled. "I warned them to make sure
she's really worn out before trying to move her upstairs.
Ellen smiled. "I saw everything they might need in that
box under the table."
Kim was piling a generous selection of hors d'oeuvres on a small
plate, including the aforementioned cheese.
Meanwhile, her dress thrown across her right shoulder, Ellen
found a clean flute and pulled an unopened bottle of champagne
from the wine cooler. "Is there going to be room for the
three of us on your bed?" she inquired.
"It's king-size," Kim shrugged. "And if we decide it is
too crowded, we'll leave the mouse hogtied on the floor."
Ellen laughed and headed for the bedrooms.
Kim followed with Cynthia trailing close behind at the end of
her leash. "Keep it quiet," she warned the others in a
whisper. "We don't want to wake up the kids."
The naked captive sighed behind her gag. Hogtied on
the floor wouldn't be too bad, she decided, as
long as they feed me first. Kim was probably
kidding, but even if she wasn't, it wouldn't be the first time
Cynthia had slept in bondage.
|Oh, the Humanities!
consciousness as Megan and Bibi coaxed a third orgasm
from her spreadeagled body.
Bibi had gotten her wish to explore Tori's tits
and stomach with the Wartenberg Wheel between orgasms two and
three, but it was a perfunctory session, a brief interlude while
they let Tori "rest." After a few minutes the wheel
disappeared, the vibrators reappeared, and round three
The captive tugged on her bonds and mewled through her gag and
finally—after long minutes of buzzing, titillating "torture"—the
inevitable wave of pleasure wracked her exhausted body, but by
this time it was more a drenching flood than a tsunami.
And then all went black.
Tori opened her eyes to find herself face down on the concrete
floor—the blessedly cool concrete floor.
Megan was buckling a leather collar around her throat while Bibi
was using a double-ended spring-clip to join the rings dangling
from the straps of her ankle-cuffs. Her wrist cuffs
remained buckled tight but were otherwise unsecured. At
this point, it was well within the realm of possibility that a
trained "Security Specialist" like Tori could have turned the
tables on her handlers, despite the disadvantageous position and
partial bondage, but Tori didn't even try. She'd agreed to
this testing and Tori Ballantine wasn't a quitter.
Besides, she was... So. Tired. Tori
did have the presence of mind to note the growing pile of tiny
padlocks on the floor off to the right of her head. Her
handlers were unlocking all of her restraints, cuffs and gag,
removing the added security.
The opportunity for Tori to mount a heroic escape passed.
Working in concert, Bibi and Megan clipped the D-rings at the
ends of the wrist-cuffs' suspension straps to the back of Tori's
collar, then clipped together the D-rings on the sides of the
cuffs. Her arms were now bound behind her back in what
might be called a semi-reverse-prayer and her feet linked by an
inelegant and floppy strap-and-clip hobble. The
combination ball-gag/strap-gag still filled her parched mouth
and compressed her dry lips.
Bibi and Megan lifted Tori to her unsteady feet, then helped her
up the stairs to the kitchen. Megan headed for the
refrigerator while Bibi continued shepherding Tori through the
door to the living room and down the hall. They passed the
door of Clem and Gwen's bedroom, then the master bedroom.
Their ultimate destination, the back guest room, was directly
ahead, but Bibi made a side trip to the bathroom.
Bibi settled Tori on the commode, then wet a washcloth and
cleaned the prisoner's gagged and glowering face. Tori
managed to empty her bladder, then Bibi flushed the toilet,
pulled Tori to her hobbled feet, and used the wet cloth to clean
her crotch. "There we are," the blond not naked
and in bondage remarked, then tossed the cloth in the washbasin
and led Tori through the door.
Megan was waiting at the closed guest room door, a small plate
piled with various hors d'oeuvres in one hand and a bottle of
champagne and an empty flute in the other. "A little help
here?" she whispered, smiling and nodding at the doorknob.
"My pleasure," Bibi said as she opened the door.
The bedroom beyond was typical in size and shape and its decor
matched the rest of Kim Pappas' house (not counting the
basement). There was only one bed, but it was
king-size. There would be room on the wide mattress for
all three, especially if they were friendly.
Bibi led Tori to the bed and they sat, thigh touching thigh with
their feet on the carpeted floor. By this time Tori was
somewhat recovered from her ordeal, but it was clear she was
still very tired.
Megan placed the plate on the bed and the flute on the
nightstand, then removed the foil and stopper from the
champagne. Pop! She poured bubbly into the
Meanwhile, Bibi had opened the buckle of Tori's gag to the first
hole in its strap and re-secured the buckle. She eased the
ball from her mouth, then let the gag dangle around her
throat. "You're welcome," she purred as she leaned close
and kissed Tori's cheek.
Tori licked her lips and stared straight ahead. She had
not said thank you, nor did she intend to. Megan
held the flute to her lips and she drank—in fact, she drained
the glass. Tori didn't offer thanks for that, either,
although she was certainly glad to quench her thirst.
Megan refilled the flute and took a sip, handed it to Bibi, then
picked up the plate of food and sat on Tori's left.
"Feeding time," she chuckled, then popped a bacon-wrapped
mini-sausage into Tori's frowning mouth. "Don't be such a
storm cloud," she chided.
Tori chewed and swallowed, then favored the smiling redhead with
an even stare. "I'm going to make you suffer," she
promised. The flute reappeared and she took a sip, then
shifted her gaze to Bibi. "Both of you." Megan
offered her a small egg roll and she opened her mouth, let Megan
place it inside, then chewed and swallowed. "All of you,"
she amended. "You're all going to suffer."
"But not tonight," Megan responded. Bibi held the flute to
her lips and Tori took another sip. Megan waited for her
to swallow, then fed a tiny sandwich to the still clearly
angry naked captive. Megan wasn't fooled. The
helpless Captured Villainess was mad and at some point
she would wreak Horrible Vengeance on her tormentors,
without a doubt, but it was all part of the game.
"If she's going to be rude and ungrateful," Bibi chuckled, "we could
make her eat on the floor like a bad doggie."
"Don't be silly," Megan chuckled. She handed the plate to
her fellow handler, accepted the flute in return, then refilled
if from the now half-empty bottle. "We'd have to be cruel
bitches, indeed, to make poor Tori eat on the floor."
|Oh, the Humanities!
couple of cruel bitches, you know that?" Cynthia muttered.
She was kneeling on the carpet in the middle of the master
bedroom. Her mask, veil, and gag had been removed, but her
fingers, hands, and arms remained wrapped in tape and zipped and
strapped in the leather single-sleeve binder. The collar
was still buckled around her throat, but its leash had been
removed. The plate of hors d'oeuvres was directly in front
of her knees and she was glowering at Kim and Ellen, who were
sitting on the foot of the bed and smiling at her—in a gloating,
"I thought you were hungry?" Kim inquired innocently.
"She certainly guzzled the champagne," Ellen chuckled.
She'd already removed her shoes and garter belt and was peeling
down her stockings, her only remaining clothing.
Cynthia continued her We-are-not-amused pout (and carefully
suppressed the smile tugging at the corners of her bow
lips. The situation was funny, even she had to
Fully nude, Ellen stood and stretched.
Kim smiled. "Don't use all the hot water."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Ellen answered as she gracefully padded
to the master bath and closed the door behind her.
There was a brief pause... then the sound of the shower running.
"I removed all the toothpicks and other impediments to
hands-free dining," Kim said, still smiling at her helpless,
naked guest. "Aren't my selections to your liking? I
chose a little bit of everything... Little Bit."
"Shut up," Cynthia growled, but she'd lost the struggle not to
smile. She lowered her face to the plate and delicately
tongued a wonton-like tidbit into her mouth. "Yum," she
muttered as she chewed and swallowed. "Pork.
"I believe so," Kim confirmed, then removed her shoes, placed
them next to Ellen's, and stood. "I think Inga has left,"
"Left the party or left town?" Cynthia asked, then leaned down
and gobbled a Swedish meatball.
"The party, at the very least." Kim had unzipped and
removed her dress and was in the process of removing her
pantyhose and panties. "I'll make a discrete inquiry in
the morning to see if she's begun her journey."
Cynthia continued eating. "I'm going to miss her," she
said between bites. "And I know you are."
Kim gathered her clothing and shoes, Ellen's as well, and padded
to her walk-in closet. "I'm sure we'll see her again
soon," Kim called from the closet. She was hanging up the
dresses. "No later than the first of the year."
Cynthia smiled. "Unless her new employer decides to keep
her on a short leash."
"Figurative or literally?" Kim inquired as she strolled back
into the bedroom.
Cynthia shrugged her strap-yoked shoulders, then resumed eating.
"I'm very proud of the youngsters," Kim said as she went to the
bedroom door, turned a key in its lock, then strolled to the bed
and placed the key in the bedside table's top drawer.
"I thought you were crazy when you explained Inga was going to
'invite' them to the party," Cynthia said, "but you were right,
as always. Clementine and Gwendoline were up to the
Kim was refilling the champagne flute. "Megan is making
arrangements to help them continue their extracurricular
activities next year."
Cynthia nodded. "I heard."
Kim sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Cynthia and her
now much depleted plate, then held the flute so the kneeling
prisoner could take a sip.
Just then Ellen emerged from the master bath, nude and toweling
her hair. "It feels good to be clean," she purred, then
wrapped the towel as a turban. She accepted the flute from
Kim, took a sip, then nodded towards the bathroom. "All
Kim smiled, stood, and padded towards the bath.
Ellen took Kim's place, sitting on the floor. "Do you have
a riding crop up here?" she asked, directing the question at her
departing fellow-handler, "or do I have to go back down to the
Kim gestured to the walk-in closet. "In the very back,
hanging from hooks behind the clothing."
"Hooks, plural?" Ellen chuckled.
"Riding crops—large, medium, and small floggers—large, medium,
and small paddles—etc." She smiled from the bathroom
door. "Keep the noise down, okay? We don't want to
wake the others."
"I just want to make sure Cynthia is an obedient little mouse,"
Ellen explained, her lips curled in an evil smirk. "And I
doubt if Professors Whelan and Knudsen or Officer
Ballantine are asleep."
"Probably not," Kim agreed. "My concern is for the
"Point taken," Ellen purred, then locked eyes with
Cynthia. "I'll gag her if I need to punish her."
"Also on hooks in the closet," Kim chuckled, then closed
the bathroom door.
Cynthia glared at Ellen as the shower started.
"Don't be like that," Ellen chuckled. "You know I'm only
"You're also half-drunk," Cynthia muttered, "and you had waaay
too much fun flogging poor Tori."
Ellen held the flute for Cynthia to take another sip.
"Clean your plate and promise to be a good little mouse
and the Dragon Lady won't have to whack your butt."
Cynthia favored the "Dragon Lady" with a prim smile, then
Ellen watched as Cynthia leaned forward and used her lips and
tongue to maneuver one of the remaining hors 'd'oeuvres into her
mouth, sat up, chewed and swallowed, then repeated the
process. Each time, her breasts hung as she visited the
plate, then bobbed when she sat erect.
"What?" Cynthia demanded.
"I was thinking how cute your boobies would be bound with hemp
cord," Ellen purred, "but something much more elaborate
than a simple Shinju harness."
Cynthia chewed a meatball, her lips pursed in another
We-are-not-amused moue. It was flattering, actually, that
Ellen wanted to tie up her tits. She swallowed, leaned
forward and mouthed the last tidbit, a bacon-wrapped sausage,
then sat back on her heels. Ellen's eyes were still on her
breasts, and Cynthia realized that her nipples were tingling.
It reminded her of the Peanuts cartoon in which Linus complains,
"I'm aware of my tongue!" Cynthia had become aware of her
breasts. It was... irritating. Ellen's boobs weren't
quite as voluminous as her own, but they'd also look
good bulging in a cat's cradle of hemp cord. She
considered sharing that observation, but decided that probably
wasn't a good idea. Best to let the topic of tied up
tits drop, she decided, so to speak.
Ellen pulled the towel from her head, tossed it aside, and shook
out her still slightly damp, raven-black hair. "Hurry up,"
she urged her kneeling, helpless charge. "It's time for
Cynthia chewed and swallowed. "I am tired," she
"Tired?" Ellen chuckled. "I said time for bed, not
time to go to sleep."
Cynthia rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet, causing her
breasts to bob, again. She followed Ellen to the bed and
watched her pull back the covers, climb between the sheets, and
Ellen patted the mattress. "You aren't actually gonna make
me go get the riding crop, are you?"
"No, I'm not, Dragon Lady," Cynthia sighed. "We ought to
pitch in and buy you a t-shirt with a red dragon and the words
'Dragon Lady' in Chinese restaurant font."
Her lips curled in a coy smirk, Ellen crooked a beckoning
finger. "C'mon, Little Mouse."
"And a gong," Cynthia added as she sat and rolled onto the
bed. "A great big Oriental gong. Your TA can ring it
whenever you enter a classroom. Gong!"
"How very humorous," Ellen chuckled, "and only mildly racist and
Cynthia gasped in mock outrage. "You started it, Dragon
"Touché." Ellen pulled back the covers and made a
languid gesture towards her crotch. "Just for that, the
Round-eyed Barbarian Mouse will lick the Dragon Lady's pussy."
"Or else?" Cynthia inquired.
"Or else," Ellen confirmed.
Cynthia heaved a theatrical sigh. "Just so it's clear I'm
doing this against my will and under the threat of dire
Ellen lay on her back. "More like willingly and with the
promise of serious payback in kind, but whatever motivates your
Cynthia's bow lips curled in a devilish smile, she squirmed
between Ellen's legs, rolled onto her stomach, and proceeded to
carry out her handler's orders.
Kim emerged from the master bath about two minutes later, naked
and toweling her hair, as Ellen had before. "Thanks for
waiting," she chuckled.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Ellen gasped. "I was
"I can see that," Kim purred as she wrapped the towel around her
head like a turban, also as Ellen had before. She
sat on the bed, leaned close and kissed Ellen's lips.
Cynthia was busy between the panting Professor Chen's legs, her
head bobbing as she performed her assigned task with due
diligence. Kim placed her left hand between Cynthia's
firm, tan, dimpled buttocks and began massaging the little
captive's labia. She also took Ellen's left breast in a
firm grip with her right hand and gently squeezed.
Ellen reached up and gripped the headboard with both
hands. "Eeeeee!" she whined, again, putting her head back
and clenching her eyes closed.
"Not so fast," Kim chuckled. "Slow it down, waaay
down." It wasn't clear if she was cautioning Cynthia,
Ellen, or both. Her lips curled in a kittenish grin, she
continued frigging Cynthia's pussy and massaging Ellen's
breast. "We have hours 'til dawn," she purred.
|Oh, the Humanities!