| by Van ©2013
her eyes, turned her head towards the nightstand, and focused on
the softly glowing display of her alarm clock. It was
almost precisely twenty-four hours from the last time she'd done
so, when she'd been sharing the bed with Tori and had roused her
in order to trick her into a day of standing in spreadeagled
bondage down in the basement, followed by a prolonged and highly
entertaining flogging at the hands of Ellen, followed by who
knew what else at the hands of Megan and Bibi. And now,
Tori, Megan, and Bibi were asleep in the back guestroom, Clem
and Gwen, "The Youngsters," were asleep in the front guest room,
and... Kim looked over her shoulder, and smiled. By
the dim light of the nightlight her dark-adapted eyes could see
the naked forms of Ellen and Cynthia cuddled together and
After various permutations of licking pussy and having one's
pussy licked, the Dragon Lady (Kim thought the Little Mouse's
new nickname for Ellen was hilarious), Cynthia (the
Little Mouse in question), and Kim had surrendered to their
mutual and very satiated exhaustion. Kim and Ellen
had found the energy to unbuckle and unzip Cynthia's
binder and snip her out of the sheath of "invisible tape"
mummifying her fingers, hands, and arms before they drifted off
to sleep—meaning collapsed in a naked, three-way tangle of limbs
Kim's smile broadened. Cynthia and Ellen looked so cute
spooning together. She'd like nothing better than to roll
over, snuggle close, close her eyes, again, and join them in
blessed oblivion; but... A Wicked Villainess' work is
never done. She carefully eased herself out from
under the covers and off the bed without disturbing the
others. Somebody has to keep the ship from careening
onto the rocks and... She shook her head.
It's too early for metaphors.
Kim yawned and made her way to the master bath, relieved
herself, washed her hands and splashed a little water on her
face, dragged her brush through her tousled hair, then shrugged
into her favorite, dark-jade robe. Tightening the sash as
she padded back into the bedroom, she smiled at her still
slumbering former bed-mates and recent lovers, then retrieved
her keyring from the nightstand. She then padded to the
door, turned the key in the lock and eased it open, stepped
through, then quietly pulled it closed.
Her first stop was the youngsters. She unlocked their
door, eased it open a wide crack, and peered inside. Clem
and Gwen were sleeping together on the closest bed. The
brunette was still loosely spreadeagled on her back, buckled
into padlocked medical restraints and strapped to the
mattress. The redhead, with Inga's very pretty
feathered mask/blindfold still buckled and locked over her eyes
but otherwise unrestrained, was cuddled against her helpless
roommate's side. Kim couldn't help but smile. They
were adorable. She noted the empty, pristine second
bed. Together by choice. Adorable. She
eased the door closed and locked it, once again.
Her next stop stop was the back guestroom, to check on Megan and
Bibi and make sure they hadn't left poor Tori in some hideously
cruel bondage predicament before drifting off to sleep.
The door was unlocked, as expected. She quietly turned the
knob, eased the door open, peered inside—and gasped!
Like the other bedrooms, the back guestroom had a nightlight;
however, Tori was nowhere to be seen, unless she was
hiding under the bed, in the bedroom closet or... Heart in
her throat, Kim quickly checked behind the door, then sighed in
relief. Tori was gone.
Megan and Bibi, however, were present.
Both were naked (of course) and stretched out on the bed, legs
together and arms behind their backs. This was not
voluntary on their part. Both were bound with thin cord, lots
of thin cord. It was "550 Paracord," seven-strand nylon
inside a braided nylon sheath and about four millimeters in
diameter. This particular cord was "Desert Rattlesnake
(Light.)" Its sheath was comprised of narrow diagonal
stripes crisscrossing broader, horizontal bands, all in subdued
shades of sage, sand, golden tan, and gray. Kim knew the
product details because, after a trial purchase, she'd recently
ordered and received twenty additional one-hundred foot bundles
from the supplier. She liked the subtle earth tones,
especially the way they looked against the dimpled flesh of
damsels with a variety of complexions. Anyway, all of the
bundles should be in a cardboard box in the back of the
walk-in closet of the master bedroom, but they were not.
The box was on the floor next to the guestroom bed, and a couple
of the bundles had been used to bind Bibi and Megan!
The implications of the situation were both alarming and clear:
The tiny hairs on the back of Kim's neck stood straight and a thrill
shivered up her spine. She's right behind me!
Kim quickly turned her head—and found the dark hallway empty,
meaning devoid of vengeful blond amazons. Thank god!
- Tori had escaped, no doubt due to the gross negligence
of the captives on the bed.
- She then crept to the master bedroom, unlocked the door,
retrieved the box from the closet, and made her exit, re-locking
the door behind her. Without a key? And
she'd done this without disturbing Kim, Ellen, or Cynthia.
- She then returned to the guest bedroom and used the cord
to bind her ex-handlers, her incompetent
ex-handlers, and she was currently—on the prowl?
Kim entered the guestroom, closed the door behind her, and
turned the lock—not that door locks seemed to be much of an
impediment to Tori Ballantine. She then strolled to the
bed and smiled down at the bound prisoners, hands on her hips.
The blond and redhead were bound in an identical manner.
Tight bands of cord dimpled the flesh of their arms, pinning
them to their sides and passing above and below their
breasts. They were part of a harness that yoked their
shoulders, was cinched between and around their bulging
breasts, and lashed their elbows together behind their
backs. More cord encircled their waists and
forearms. The bands were cinched between their forearms and
between their forearms and waists. Their wrists, thumbs,
and the palms of their hands were bound and the same strands of
cord passed through their crotches, cleaving their pussies and
pinning their praying hands against their buttocks.
The crotch lashings were complex, something of a cat's cradle,
and with strategically placed knots. It was difficult to
be sure in the dim light, but several of the knots and strands
appeared to be slightly darker that the rest, especially where
they entered or emerged from between the prisoners' labia or
slid across their slits, as if they were... a little wet.
Kim's smile broadened. Way to go, Tori!
Even more cord was lashed around their thighs, above and below
their knees, around their shins and calves, their ankles, the
soles of their feet, and their big toes. Doubled strands
traveled from their toe-bondage to the foot of the bed, where it
was knotted to the lower bed frame. Similarly taut cords
linked the bondage at the nape of their necks to the headboard,
enforcing their prone positions. They had a little
wiggle room with respect to the mattress, but their other bonds
were punishingly tight.
They were gagged, of course. Bibi was wearing the
combination ball and panel gag formerly in Tori's mouth and
Megan appeared to have been gagged with her own panties and
pantyhose. In addition, multiple tight bands of the new
"invisible tape" mummified their lower faces from nostrils to
chin. We really do have to think of a name for that
stuff, Kim thought. 'Invisi-tape?'
'Skin-tape?' I'll have to put it to the group...
when the least competent handlers among us aren't bound and
gagged, that is. What little remained of the roll
was on the nightstand, but it should have been in the
nightstand drawer of the master bedroom. Another shiver
coursed up Kim's spine. She's a ghost! She
was thinking of Tori, of course. Tori's a ghost!
Oh-by-the-way, the prisoners on the bed were awake. Bibi's
blue and Megan's green eyes stared up at her. They wiggled
in their bonds and moaned quietly through their respective
gags—"Mrrrpfh!—begging for release.
"I have several questions," Kim purred, "like... How could
you be so stupid as to let Tori turn the tables on both of you
at once? How long have you been tied up? Did Tori do
anything 'interesting' to you before she left? And most
importantly, where is Tori now?" She leaned over the bed
and turned Megan's bundled body a few degrees, inspecting her
bonds. "But all of that can wait." She walked around
the bed and did the same to Bibi. There was no way in the
world her fellow academics would be able to free themselves or
each other. "If Tori is lurking in ambush
somewhere in the house, waiting to pounce, there isn't much I
can do about it." She strolled to the bedroom door.
"Why don't you two sleep in while I wake the others and get the
youngsters on their way?" She opened the door, tiptoed
across the threshold, then closed and locked the door behind
Alone and helpless in the bedroom, the darkness relieved only by
the dim glow of the nightlight, Megan and Bibi turned their
gagged heads, exchanged a look of sad, mutual commiseration, and
heaved simultaneous gagged sighs.
|Oh, the Humanities!
Cynthia demanded, "bound and gagged on the bed? Both of
Kim nodded. "Feel free to use the shower, if you wish,
"Wait!" Cynthia interrupted. "Bound and gagged naked?"
Kim and Ellen exchanged a smile before Kim answered. "Yes,
Cynthia, stringently bound and gagged and gloriously in
the nude. Now—"
"I have got to see this," Cynthia said, throwing back
the covers. She lifted her legs and swung them to the
side. "Hey—Mrrrf!" She hadn't made it off the
bed. Ellen had her in a tight embrace with her right hand
clamped over her mouth.
"Settle down, Little Mouse," Ellen chuckled. Cynthia tried
to squirm loose and Ellen tightened her left arm around her
bed-mate's elbows. "Listen to our hostess," she added,
then released her hand-gag.
"You are so grabby," Cynthia complained, then focused on
"She's grabby with everybody," Kim purred. "What I was
trying to say was this: please stay in here and keep the noise
to a minimum. I'm on my way to wake up the girls.
They'll be using the bathroom and getting ready for breakfast,
so you should use my bathroom, quietly, and avoid the
hallway until I give the all clear."
"Which means you don't get to ogle Meg and Bibi," Ellen
whispered in Cynthia's right ear. Her left arm was still
holding the diminutive scientist's arms behind her back.
"Pout all you want, Cynthia," Kim chuckled. "You know it's
the right thing to do."
"Of course it is," Cynthia muttered. "I assume Doctors
Knudsen and Whelan will still be there after the youngsters have
"I assure you," Kim said with a smile. "The Swede and the
Fox aren't going anywhere. Now, whenever you want, clean
up and get dressed. Your dresses are hanging in the closet
and please feel free to borrow some underwear."
Cynthia smiled. "I can go commando. It won't be the
"Same here," Ellen purred, then cupped Cynthia's right breast
with her free hand.
Cynthia looked back over her right shoulder. "You really are
grabby, you know that?"
Ellen nuzzled Cynthia's neck and squeezed her breast.
"Guilty as charged. I'm not sleepy anymore. How
Cynthia ignored the question, but from the way she continued to
squirm, she could not ignore Ellen's hand. "Stop
that," she sighed.
Ellen smiled at Kim and nodded towards the nightstand.
"The tape is in there, right?'
"It was," Kim answered. "I'm afraid Officer Ballantine
confiscated my last roll sometime during the night." She
strolled to the nightstand and opened the bottom drawer.
Ellen scooted across the bed the two feet required for her to
peer into the drawer, taking the indignantly wiggling Cynthia
with her, and her smile broadened. In the drawer was a
loose tangle of long, narrow bands of cloth in various
colors. "Odd place for hair ribbons," Ellen purred.
"I keep mine with my scarves."
"Hair ribbons," Kim grinned. "Yes, I suppose they could be
used for that."
Ellen switched hands, maintaining her grip on the still
"struggling" Cynthia's elbows, then stretched out, reached into
the drawer, and pulled out a long, blue-gray ribbon. She
then flipped Cynthia onto her stomach, pulled her hands behind
her back, and began lashing her crossed wrists together.
"Ohhh!" Cynthia whined in complaint. "Okay, I lost Inga's
lottery but the party's over. Ow!" Ellen had cinched
the ribbon and was taking additional turns. "Why are you
guys so mean to me?"
Ellen was doing a first class job of binding Cynthia's wrists,
interlacing the ribbon and making sure any folds in the narrow
band weren't against her "victim's" skin. "We're mean to
you 'cause you're so cute and tiny," Ellen purred, "and you're so
good with your tongue when you're tied up." She tied a
neat, tight bow between Cynthia's wrists on the side opposite
her now useless, fluttering fingers, tucking the ends under the
bindings for added security. She then flipped Cynthia onto
Her patented We-are-not-amused pout pursing her bow lips,
Cynthia glared up at her captor. "Mean," she
muttered. "Really mean."
"She is good with that tongue," Kim chuckled, "but none
of this 'you guys' and 'we' nonsense. This is between the
Dragon Lady and her Little Mouse. I have things to
do." With that she turned and padded to the bedroom
door. "Remember," she cautioned, "quietly."
The door closed and she was gone.
Ellen reclined against her still pouting captive's body and
pulled the covers over them both. "I was lying about not
being sleepy," she whispered in Cynthia's ear, then kissed her
"You tied me up so you can go back to sleep?" Cynthia
sighed. "So mean."
"Like I said," Ellen purred, "cute and tiny. Who doesn't
want to tie you up?"
"Who, indeed," Cynthia sighed.
"Besides..." Ellen heaved a huge yawn and snuggled against
her prisoner before continuing. "This way I know both you
and your tongue will be here when I wake up."
Cynthia couldn't help but smile. There were far worse
fates than being Professor Ellen Chen's plaything. "So
mean," she reiterated, then closed her eyes and tried her best
to ignore the warm, smooth body pressed against her side, as
well as the delicate frisson tingling between her legs.
|Oh, the Humanities!
her eyes to find Kim Pappas unlocking the padlock securing the
buckle of her left wrist cuff. The robe-clad professor
then released the buckle, itself. Clem opened her mouth to
speak, but stopped when Kim placed her right index finger
against her smiling lips, shook her head, and nodded towards
Gwen. The redhead was fast asleep, her blindfolded face
resting against Clem's right breast and her right arm thrown
across her BFF's body.
Kim slowly worked her way around the bed and released Clem's
remaining restraints, including the collar. This required
some careful lifting of the covers and avoidance of Gwen's
languid, slumbering form, but in short order, Clem was
free. She hadn't moved, was still flat on her back with
her wrists, ankles and throat resting in the open restraints,
but she was free.
Kim leaned close and kissed Clem's lips, then whispered in her
ear. "Wake up Gwendoline whenever you wish. The key
to her mask is on the nightstand. Your clothing and fresh
towels are in the bathroom. I'll be in the kitchen ready
to cook breakfast, okay?"
"Okay," Clem whispered back. Without her glasses, her
mentor's face was a smiling blur, but the faint bouquet of her
perfume was... nice.
"We can talk as we eat," Kim continued, "or, we can go out for
breakfast. I know a very nice place. Ask
Gwen what she'd like to do."
"Mom!" Gwen complained in a slurred whine. "Lemme
sleeeeep. It's not even a school day."
Kim and Clem exchanged an amused smile. The blindfolded
redhead was still at least half asleep.
"Okay," Clem whispered. The answer was for Kim, of course.
Kim nodded and left the room, easing the door closed behind her.
I really like that robe, Clem thought, then slowly,
carefully eased her wrists and ankles out of the open cuffs.
In response, Gwen tightened her embrace and snuggled even
closer, heaved a huge yawn, and mumbled something
totally inarticulate through slack lips.
Clem had no choice but to smile and return her roommate's
embrace. A wave of affection washed through her naked
body. It was all entirely Platonic, she assured herself,
but she'd never loved the ditzy little redhead more than at this
moment. She kissed the tousled hair atop Gwen's slumbering
head, then closed her eyes. Can't wait to tie her up
|Oh, the Humanities!
ONE HOUR LATER
Kim returned to the master
bedroom to find Cynthia awake on the bed and Ellen in the master
Cynthia was on her side with her crossed wrists still bound
behind her back. The tangled covers were doing a truly
pathetic job of trying to cover her cute little naked
body. She shook her head in a vain attempt to straighten
her short, tousled hair, then nodded towards the bath.
"The bitch took a super long shower," she complained, "and has
been primping, like, forever. And she won't untie
Ellen, "the bitch," was standing in the bathroom doorway, clad
in stockings and garter belt but otherwise nude. A coy
smile graced her beautiful face—or what was no doubt an evil
smile to the much-put-upon Cynthia. She was brushing her
long, raven-black hair. "Guilty as charged," she chuckled.
"Understandable," Kim grinned as she pulled off her robe and
tossed it on the bed. "You look so cute tied up, Cynthia,
especially when you pout."
A smile was threatening to ruin the pout in question, but
Cynthia managed to maintain her grumpy façade. "I need a
shower," she groused.
"As do I," Kim responded as she strolled towards the bathroom.
"Ohhh!" Cynthia tugged on her bound wrists. "There
will be no hot water at all by the time you bitches let
"Not so," Kim laughed from the bathroom. "The tank in the
basement is huge, and a secondary flash heater kicks in when the
temperature drops. In any case, I'll be super
quick. The youngsters have decided to let me take them out
to breakfast. They're waiting in the kitchen."
Ellen had made her way to the walk-in closet and was donning her
dress. "So, we'll soon have Château Pappas
completely to ourselves?"
Kim tucked her hair under her shower cap, then turned on the
shower. "Yes. Wait 'til the girls and I are gone,
then free Meg and Bibi, okay?"
"I was thinking," Ellen answered, smiling at Cynthia and
pitching her voice to carry over the noise of the running water,
"it would be very rude to leave your house in such a mess.
Are the serving chains your French Maid wore last night still in
"They are," Kim confirmed.
Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Here we go."
"Not you, Little Mouse," Ellen chuckled. She walked over
and sat on the bed, rolled Cynthia onto her stomach, and began
untying her wrists. "I'm sure the Fox and the Swede would
be more than happy to help. You don't have two
sets of serving chains, do you?"
The shower stopped and Kim strolled back into the bedroom,
toweling herself dry. "Just the one set, but we can
"That was super quick," Cynthia noted as she climbed off
the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom.
Kim and Ellen watched the petite scientist's disappearing back (and
her tan, dimpled buttocks), then exchanged a smile.
"Like I said," Kim explained, "the youngsters are
waiting." She strolled into the closet and began dressing.
Ellen followed. "We'll make a day of it," she said,
"taking turns supervising the labor of the incompetent handlers
who let Tori the Wicked Villainess escape. My calendar's
"Mine too," Kim chuckled, "once I see to the girls." She
had donned panties and a bra and had stepped into and was
pulling up a sleeveless sundress. It was tan linen
embroidered with summer flowers in bright colors. She
stood still as Ellen zipped up the dress and secured the top
clasp. "Thank you. Uh, let's let Cynthia play Top
"You're welcome," Ellen purred, "and I quite agree. Little
Mouse has probably had enough of being a Bottom for a
while. And I'm sure she'll be a precious little
taskmaster." She had unzipped and was pulling off the
dress she had just put on. "We'll have to loot your
"That dress is inappropriate for lounging around while
others work," Kim agreed, then gestured towards the racks and
built-in drawers. "Loot away. I'm not sure what will
fit, especially the Little Mouse, but you'll probably find
"Yoga pants?" Ellen suggested.
"Good idea." Kim half opened a drawer. "In
here." She stepped into a pair of sandals, lifted her feet
onto the seat of a chair, one by one, and buckled the straps.
"You look gorgeous," Ellen purred as she leaned close and kissed
"I do, don't I?" Kim grinned. "Gotta go. Ow!"
She rubbed her linen-clad rump, which had just received a
playful slap from Ellen. "Meanie!" she accused as
she reentered the main bedroom, gathered her iPhone and purse,
and headed for the bedroom door.
"You sound like Cynthia," Ellen chuckled.
Kim crossed the threshold, stuck out her tongue at Ellen, then
pulled the door closed.
"Only taller," Ellen continued, speaking to the empty
bedroom. Cynthia was still in the shower. She walked
to the bed, coiled the ribbon she'd used to bind Cynthia's
wrists, and returned it to the nightstand's bottom drawer.
She turned to the bed to straighten the covers, then
stopped. No, she decided, smiling at the scene of
last night's after-party orgy. The sheets need
changing, and that's work for a naked slave in chains.
|Oh, the Humanities!
IN THE PHANTOM'S LAIR...
Inga stretched her naked
After sneaking out of Kim's party she'd returned to the steam
tunnels, made her way to the Lair... and collapsed. She'd
peeled off her gown and panties and kicked off her heels
beforehand, of course, but then she flopped onto the jumble of
soft cushions and surrendered her mind and body to the god Hypnos.
How long Inga slept she didn't know, but she felt refreshed
enough to finish packing her books, papers, and computers and
make her other moving preparations. A smile curled her
girlish lips. Inga had a job to report to, and it was her
Inga sat up, stretched again, and—her eyes popped wide and she gasped
in alarm! "Ah!"
Her bed (the pile of cushions) was surrounded by four sinister
figures! They were clad from head to toe in skintight
catsuits, as well as knee-boots, gloves, hoods, and featureless
masks of reflective plastic. Hand weapons and other
equipment were holstered and harnessed against their bodies and
all the elements of their outfits were mottled in a riot of dark
colors, mostly shades of gray. As fashion statements, the
identical costumes were sexy and kinky, but they were also quite
obviously functional. Last but not least, her
uninvited visitors were all female—fit, athletic females.
Their features might be hidden behind their oval masks, but the
catsuits could do nothing to disguise their voluptuous, feminine
"W-who are you?" Inga demanded. Then, her attention was
drawn to the steel door that was her only access to the
tunnels. It was standing open, and two more of the urban
camouflaged strangers were wheeling a large, streamlined object
into the Lair. It was a casket or packing case of brushed
aluminum atop a folding frame with wheels, like a gurney.
Prominently embossed on its side was the outline of a chess
piece. It was a castle or rook, a tiny tower with
"We are your ride to the airport," one of the masked figures
announced. Her voice had been electronically altered, but
she was easily understood. "Your new employer wishes you
to travel in style."
The case had been wheeled close to Inga and the cushions.
Flush-mounted latches were thrown, the top and side-panels were
folded down, and the casket had transformed into a thickly
padded pallet studded with medical-style, open restraints—many
open restraints—a great many open restraints. The
pallet was covered with black velvet and the many cuffs and
straps were thick, wide, black nylon webbing, padded with white
"Y-you're going to put me in that thing?" Inga demanded.
She tried to keep the fear from her voice, but knew she'd
"Not immediately," the spokeswoman answered. "First comes
an enema, then a sponge bath, then another enema, just
to be sure. After that, the insertion of a urinary
catheter and a butt-plug, a combination gag and breathing mask,
the attachment of various vibrators, clamps, and electrical
shock-pads, then the rest of the entertainment system, ear-buds
and a video-visor. Only then do you go into the
sarcophagus. Tell me, do you think you'll resist?"
"W-what?" Inga's heart was hammering.
"Please resist," the anonymous ninja-amazon continued.
"It's so much more fun when they resist."
|Oh, the Humanities!