by Van © 2024
		Chapter 1

A flat in the Hackney Wick area of London

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Prudence Reilly

Prudence Reilly found herself in a bit of a pickle.

For one thing, she was naked, totally starkers.  For another, she was lying on her right side on the hardwood floor of her bedroom with her hands behind her back, her knees completely bent, and her palms and fingers in very close proximity to the heels of her bare feet.

Regarding the pose, Pru (her friends called her Pru) had no real choice in the matter.  She was bound in a stringent hogtie with an abundance of 6½ mm (¼") braided nylon rope.  She did have the rather unsatisfying options available of squirming and rolling onto her stomach or her left side (with difficulty), but that was about it.

On the aesthetic front (and although it had nothing to do with the degree of her helplessness), Pru's rope-bonds were an attractive shade of golden tan.  The hue had been chosen after careful consideration, then the rope purchased in bulk, cut into various carefully chosen lengths, and all the free ends neatly heat-sealed. 

Regarding the technical details of the hogtie, Pru's upper arms were pinned to her sides by a tight harness of multiple doubled strands.  That is, neatly stacked bands of the thin rope passed above and below her pert breasts and yoked her shoulders.  In addition, her elbows were bound together until they very nearly touched, held apart only by multiple cinching strands.  Her wrists were bound together in a similar manner by a wide band of neatly stacked and tightly cinched rope, and her knees were also similarly bound, as were her ankles.  More rope linked the upper-body harness to her ankles and her ankles to her wrists, enforcing the hogtie.  The arrangement was quite stringent (as well as impressively neat, tidy, and stylish).

Continuing on the aesthetic front, Pru's hogtie amounted to a permanent imposition of the Dhanurāsana or "bow" yoga position.  This might have grown decidedly onerous over time, even tortuous, but thankfully Pru was a devotee and regular practitioner of hatha yoga.  Her flexibility, earned by many many hours of practice, was serving her well.

Finally (and unnecessarily, in Pru's disgruntled opinion), her thumbs had been tied together with a length of nylon cord much thinner than the hogtie ropes but in the same golden tan, and her big toes had received similar treatment!  There was no practical justification whatsoever for the thumb and toe bondage, that was for sure.  The key knots of the hogtie, as well as all other elements of her rope bonds, had been carefully positioned well beyond the reach of her fluttering fingers.  All the thumb-bondage accomplished was to prevent said fingers from groping as well as fluttering; and as for the toe-bondage... it was just mean!

One might think Pru would be vociferously complaining about such cruel and harsh treatment (especially the superfluous thumb and toe-cords) and/or screaming to the neighbors for rescue; however, a large red sphere of red silicon rubber had been crammed in her mouth and its attached strap buckled tight at the nape of her neck, just under her short, tousled, semi-pageboy crop of auburn hair (with blond highlights).  Also, plugs of soft foam had been crammed in her ears!  Finally, a skin-tight hood of black leather had been stretched and zipped closed over her entire head!  Thankfully, the hood had a pair of small holes defined by steel grommets positioned over her nostrils, and a third, slightly wider opening over her plugged mouth allowed the end of the steel tube passing through the ball-gag to poke through the hood.  Breathing was not an issue; however, drooling through the tube and onto the hardwood floor was a minor concern.  Somebody was going to have to wipe it up at some point.

Squirming, thrashing, and rolling around in search of release was certainly warranted, but more than the hogtie was limiting Pru's ability to do so.  A wide, sturdy, black leather collar was buckled around both her neck and the base of the hood (thereby covering the fob of the hood's zipper).  Also, a hefty, heart-shaped, antique Victorian brass padlock discovered in a local shop was locked through the steel ring in the front of the collar and the terminal link of about 6 meters (20') of shining steel chain, and the far end of the chain was permanently attached to a heavy-duty steel pad-eye screwed into the underside of the sturdy wooden foot-rail of the queen-sized bed.  Hogtied or not, Pru would not be leaving the bedroom unless the padlock was unlocked.

Catherine Brody

And who was the perpetrator of Pru's shocking and inescapable predicament?  It was Catherine ("Cat") Brody, of course, Pru's flatmate (and lover).  And what was Cat's justification for such inexcusable fiendishness?  It was simplicity itself: it was Pru's turn.

The flatmates indulged in these sorts of shenanigans on a semi-regular basis when one or the other or both of them weren't off somewhere on a modeling gig or acting a minor role in a movie or TV production.  Granted, the flatmates' bondage fun didn't happen all that often, but it did happen, and tonight it was Cat's turn to practice her kidnapping and rigging skills and Pru's to demonstrate her prowess as an escape artiste.

Truth be told, neither escapologist had managed to wiggle out of whatever bondage predicament the other had concocted for her in quite a long time... years, actually.  Pru and Cat met on what was for each of them their very first fashion modeling job and had become instant friends... and then... months later... lovers. The invention of "The Game" soon followed.  Both had indulged in "innocent" role-playing fun-with-rope games with their respective sets of childhood friends when they were girls, so the emergence of restrictive mischief was unsurprising (if not inevitable).

The rules of The Game were simple.  The "binder," "rigger," or "kidnapper" tied up the "bindee," "target," or "victim" in the manner of the binder's choosing using the material or materials of her choosing.  The bindee then had exactly one hour to escape, and if she failed, she would be "punished" by the binder.  The extraction of one or more orgasms from the bindee was the usual penalty for failure, although sometimes a little tickling and nipple pinching was also indicated.

The Game was easy-peasy... except for the escaping part.  Practice makes perfect, and once the binder/rigger achieves a certain skill level, the bindee/victim will always find herself at a severe if not insurmountable disadvantage.

Pru's golden ropes and cords, the ball-gag, the hood, and the collar represented the majority of the flatmates' "gaming kit."  There was also a sleep-mask with an elastic band available, but if the hood was in use (as now) it was superfluous.  Also in their gaming kit (but unused on this particular occasion) was a wide roll of Elastoplast medical tape and several scarves and handkerchiefs, available as alternative gagging materials.  Although they could afford it, Cat and Pru had not purchased steel handcuffs, single-sleeve armbinders, leather harnesses, and any other dedicated bondage accessories.  Why? Because blatantly inescapable restraints made a complete mockery of the escape element of The Game.  It was important that the bindee have a "fair chance" of freeing herself.  Also, it was equally important that the binder be able to demonstrate her rigging skills.

As for tonight's game... more than an hour had passed since Cat finished tying the final knot of Pru's toe-bondage, the final flourish of her hogtie masterpiece and the official start of Pru's authorized escape interval.  Cat was late!  She should already have moved things into the punishment phase.  In her defense, while Pru was busy struggling and/or languishing on the hardwood floor, Cat had been reclined on their comfy bed against a comfy pile of pillows and reading a steampunk adventure novel... and she'd lost track of the time.  She closed the cover of her iPad, placed her portable electronic library on the nightstand on her side of the bed... and smiled.  Pru would have no excuse.  Cat had given her victim extra time, and she still hadn't escaped!

Wearing her usual pajamas (nothing), Cat climbed off the bed in her usual graceful (rather feline) manner, padded to the foot of the bed, knelt on the floor, and began untying Pru's hogtie-ropes... followed by her big toe, ankle, and knee bonds.

Both players were completely naked, although arguably Cat was even more naked as she wasn't sporting a skintight hood and a matrix of golden-tan upper-body ropes.

Pru flinched, squirmed, and moaned through her gag and hood—"Mrrrm!"—when she felt the touch of Cat's fingers.  The pathetic prisoner was either telegraphing the Righteous and Defiant Outrage expected of a Brave Damsel, or was whining in Abject Terror.  It was difficult to tell.  It was also moot.  Pru had failed to escape, Cat's rigging skills had triumphed, and punishment was about to happen!

Cat finished freeing Pru's legs, hauled her to her bare feet, and shoved her onto the bed.  The chain was still attached to her collar (of course) but it was easily long enough to allow her to bounce and roll around on the mattress.  Pru had plenty of slack available for struggling and squirming.  Cat then climbed onto the bed and clamored over Pru's still bound, gagged, and hooded form, pried Pru's legs apart by brute force (or a reasonable facsimile thereof), thrust her face into Pru's crotch, and proceeded to have her way with the failed escapologist, using her lips, tongue, and nimble fingers!  Poor Prudence was thoroughly "punished!"

Several minutes later, once it became obvious that Pru had "suffered" at least one crashing orgasm, Cat completed her penalizing duty as required by The Game.  She slithered up the bed until she was lying against Pru's side, then unbuckled and removed Pru's collar and chain, tossed them off the bed—unzipped the hood and peeled it off her prisoner's sweaty head—then plucked the plugs from Pru's ears and unbuckled and removed her ball-gag.

Pru worked her jaws, licked her lips, and watched with open resentment and Righteous Scorn as Cat (smiling her incredibly attractive and sly smile) leaned to the bedside table, poured water from a small carafe into the glass cup that doubled as the carafe's cover, then held the glass to Pru's pouting lips.

"You horrid pig!" Pru accused as Cat returned the now empty glass to its proper place, inverted over the mouth of the carafe.

Still smiling, Cat turned back to face Pru.  "What's your problem?" she demanded.

"It was totally unnecessary for you to tie my toes and thumbs," she huffed, squirming her bound arms, wrists, and thumbs behind her back for emphasis (but carefully, so as not to punish said thumbs).

"Is that all," Cat laughed.  "I was afraid you were dissatisfied with my tongue technique."

Pru sullenly and silently pouted in response.

"Although now that I think about it," Cat continued, "you did seem slightly dissatisfied at the time."

"Horrid pig," Pru reiterated.

"Oink, oink," Cat purred as she climbed up the bed and reclined against the pillows still piled against the headboard.  She then rearranged her disgruntled naked prisoner until Pru was on her stomach with her still pouting lips in close proximity to Cat's lady-bits.  "Show me how I should have done it," she suggested (ordered).

"And if I refuse?"

Cat's smile became overtly wicked.  "The gag, earplugs, hood, and collar go back in or on and you spend the rest of the night on the cold hard floor."

"You can't do that," Pru countered.  "What will Lady Hardy's chauffeur think as he watches you drag my semiconscious and obviously abused body into the back of the limo?"

"He'll be too busy loading our luggage in the boot," Cat countered.  "Anyway, you can recuperate during the drive to the castle."

"I refuse to start my vacation in need of recuperation," Pru muttered.

"Recuperation is the purpose of a vacation," Cat chuckled.

A saucy smile curled Pru's lips.  "We both know things other than horseback riding, strolling in the gardens, sipping tea, and gorging ourselves at Lady Paulina's table are on the agenda, and we both need to be in prime physical condition to fully enjoy Amberdale's amenities."

Cat's wicked smile remained in place.  Pru's vague but enticing description of the Romantic Dungeons of Amberdale Castle was the main reason she'd agreed to take a full month off from waiting for their shared agent to find their next modeling or acting gigs and take a formal vacation.

Romantic Dungeons?  A minor feature of the Romantic Era of the late 18th and early 19th Century Britain was the emergence of a highly sanitized version of Medievalism, and one element was the conversion of any previously underutilized subterranean or tower spaces of inhabited castles and grand estates into "authentic dungeons and torture chambers," complete with horrid cells with iron bars, manacles, fetters, and chains—as well as racks, whipping posts, and other such diabolical furnishings.

None of it was truly authentic, of course, but the upper crust of the time could pretend their ancestors had used the facilities to deal with outlaws, rebellious surfs, or captured rivals.  It was all jolly good fun... in a Sir Walter Scott sort of way.

Anyway, the peerage had to spend their excessive wealth on something, so why not commission the design and construction of spine tingling fancies and follies?  Apparently, the Hardy family had been no exception, and as the daughter of a senior Hardy retainer, Pru had grown up with Lady Paulina Hardy's Amberdale Castle as her playground and Her Lordship's daughters as her playmates.  They were strictly forbidden from playing in the "dungeons," but they knew all about them... and some of what they'd heard might even be true!

Anyway, Pru had easily obtained permission to vacation at Amberdale as a guest of Lady Hardy, Cat had been intrigued by Pru's description of the accommodations (especially the pretend dungeons), and had graciously agreed to accompany her.  Lounging around a castle for a month (while secretly exploring its sinister medieval facilities)?  Why not?  Anyway, their ride would arrive in the morning, they were already packed, and only one thing stood in the way of them getting a good night's sleep: Pru's demonstration of her "punishment skills."

Cat pointed to her crotch.  "No more dilly-dallying," she ordered.  "On with the diddling."

Pru heaved a long suffering sigh, rolled her eyes, then set about the task of squirming into the precisely required position between Cat's splayed legs.  Her upper-body bondage didn't make it any easier, but she succeeded.  And then, she licked her lips... and several long minutes of severe punishment happened!

Amberdale Castle
Near Hollinsgreen in the Warrington District of Cheshire

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Cat and Pru's ride was a Bentley Flying Spur in a very pretty shade of subdued mint green.  Cat and Pru would be traveling in style!  "Andrew" the chauffeur was a pleasant, rather handsome middle-aged gentleman (and Pru whispered to Cat that he was also an ex-Royal Marine and one of the Hardy family's bodyguards). The backseat of the limo was super comfy, it was a sunny, rather pleasant day, and there was tea!  So... even though Amberdale Castle is situated all the way up in Cheshire, the vacationers survived the three-hours-plus drive with minimal discomfort.

Hannah Reilly

The limo was waved through the open gate of the estate and started down its long, curving, tree-lined driveway.  They enjoyed an excellent view of the castle as they approached... then Andrew drove past a pair of parked tour buses and several autos.  A modest crowd of tourists was milling around the quaint set of outbuildings that had been renovated into a tea shop, gift shop, and the offices that administered castle tours.  They continued on to the carriage house... and were there met by Pru's big sister, Hannah, who Pru had explained (bragged) had grown up to become a high ranking member of Lady Hardy's business staff.

It was a homecoming for Pru, of course, so Cat was amused and entertained (rather than surprised) by the girlish squeals and warm hugs exchanged by the two siblings.  Andrew smiled and exchanged a smile with Cat while he pulled the luggage from the Bentley's spacious boot and carried it away.

Hannah was a few years older than Pru and shared her good looks; however, in Pru's opinion, Pru's beauty was more "classic."  On the other hand, Hannah's smile was a little crooked/quirky and her comeliness was... different... although it was definitely there.  Hannah was smartly dressed for business, had a slender form (with curves in all the right places) and her auburn hair was long, full, and mostly straight with gentle waves.  Most importantly, she was friendly and welcoming and greeted Cat with a handshake, a hug, and a peck on the cheek.

"Where is everybody?" Pru demanded.

"Disappointed Her Ladyship didn't drop everything to welcome you in person?" Hannah grinned.  "Lady Paulina and her brood are in London and aren't expected back until tomorrow.  It's business for Her Ladyship, of course, and shopping for Grace and Lizzie."

"Business?" Pru frowned, "then why didn't she drag you along with her?"

"As you well know," Hannah responded, rolling her eyes, "I manage the estate.  Her Ladyship has an army of executives to handle the actual family fortune, a small fraction of which pays for the upkeep of this money-pit.  My duties have nothing to do with what's on the agenda for this particular visit to Lady Paulina's offices in The City."

Sabrina Walker

"I suppose I could have checked in Her Ladyship's guests," a new voice announced.  Approaching from the direction of the tour buses and shops was a stunning brunette about Cat and Pru's age with piercing blue eyes.

"Brie!" Pru cried as she rushed to the newcomer and they exchanged hugs and kisses arguably as warm as Pru's exchange with her sister.

"Sabrina Walker," the brunette introduced herself to Cat, once Pru let her go.  As with Hannah, a handshake, hug, and kiss were involved.

"We grew up together," Pru explained.  "The Reillys managed the estate, the job that Sis inherited after our parents passed.  In similar fashion, the Walkers managed the castle tour end of the business, including the shops."

"The job I inherited," Sabrina purred.  "Prudence, myself, and Her Ladyship's daughters were all thick as thieves when we were kids."

"A roving band of ankle-biting bandits," Hannah chuckled, "the terrors of the castle and the bane of the senior staff."  She gestured back the way Sabrina had come.  "We'll use the main entrance," she announced.

"That way you'll get the full tour," Pru explained, smiling and taking Cat's hand.

"Not the full tour," Sabrina chuckled, "but it will get you oriented better than if we snaked our way through the kitchens and servants' corridors."

"How's business?" Pru asked Sabrina.

"Brisk," Sabrina answered, gesturing to the tour buses as they passed, "and merchandise sales are keeping pace.  It helps pay the bills."

"Tour guidebooks, a big glossy souvenir book of the history of the castle, teacups, mugs, plates, and other bric-a-brac," Hannah added, indicating the gift shop, "as well as jams, preserves, honey, and baked goods from the estate, all with the Amberdale Castle and Hardy Estate label, of course."

"Don't worry," Pru said with a grin, "Lady Paulina doesn't oppress the peasants."

Hannah rolled her eyes.  "As you well know," she scolded her sister, "Her Ladyship's tenant farmers enjoy a generous share of the profits from the sale of their produce."

"I know," Pru huffed.  "That's what I was about to explain to Cat."

"Very well then," Hannah said primly (but Cat noted her eyes were still smiling).  "By the way," Hannah continued, "Her Ladyship's specific orders are that there will be no playing in the castle until she returns from The City and has a chance to meet Catherine."

"That's rude," Pru objected.  "So much for not oppressing the peasants."

Hannah and Sabrina exchanged knowing grins, then the Tour Services Manager took up what Cat recognized as friendly harassment.  "I can probably arrange for you to join the last tour group of the day if you don't waste time getting settled into your room.  I won't even charge you, and I'll see that you get a discount in the gift shop.  Wait 'til you see our new line of tea cups!"

"Hilarious," Pru muttered.

"C'mon," Hannah chuckled as they passed through the open gates of the castle gatehouse and under the raised portcullis.  "Her Ladyship is putting you in the North Tower."

"Pru's smile brightened.  "That's nice of her."  She turned to Cat.  "Posh guest quarters," she explained.  "I assumed we'd be in one of the old staff rooms."

"Just don't break anything," Hannah cautioned.

"More hilarity," Pru countered in a mocking manner, then winked at Cat.  "Some things never change."

So far the castle was living up to Cat's expectations.  Very Gothic.  The place was huge, and as far as she could tell it was in excellent repair.  Hannah led the way across the Grand Entryway and up the Grand Staircase, past hanging banners, full sets of medieval plate armor, some free-standing and some mounted in niches in the stone walls; as well as decorative displays of shields, lances, spears, swords, axes, halberds, and other medieval weapons of war.  It was a bit of a climb to their guest room in the tower, but they managed.

The chamber was large and elegantly furnished, with a pleasant if slightly distorted view of the green countryside seen through a pair of tall windows with thick and obviously very old glass panes.  Their luggage had already been delivered.  There was only one bed and it was quite large, with richly carved bedposts supporting an elegant canopy with matching drapes tied back by tasseled satin ropes.  When she first proposed a vacation at the castle Pru had told Cat that Her Ladyship and Hannah (and probably the rest of the household staff) already knew they were a couple.  Cat took the assignment to a posh guest room with a single gigantic bed as confirmation (and probably approval).  Unpacking took very little time.

Hannah, Sabrina, Cat, and Pru dined together in a small dining room off the kitchen.  They were served by a pair of maids in traditional black and white uniforms, one of whom Pru knew from before she'd left the castle to start her career.  The other maid had joined the staff since.

Cat noted the maids' interplay with "Her Ladyship's guests" was friendly and not at all what she could call "Downton Abby-style" subservience; however, the service was impeccably professional.  Whether things would become more formal once Lady Paulina and her daughters returned from London was yet to be seen.

After an hour of pleasant after dinner conversation... Cat and Pru pleaded "exhaustion" from their "arduous journey" and withdrew to their room in the tower.  They conducted their evening toilette in the small but fully equipped bathroom, then Pru stripped to their birthday suit and climbed into the comfy bed.

Pru, however, was taking things slower, lagging behind in her preparations.  In fact, she was still dressed in the blouse, skirt, and heels she'd worn all day while Cat was already naked and between the sheets.  Cat watched from the bed as (for some unexplained reason) Pru rummaged through the drawers of the bedroom's wardrobe and cabinets.

"What are you doing?" Cat demanded.  "Strip and come to bed so I can have my way with you."

"Eureka!" Pru responded as she opened a small wooden chest resting in one corner.

"What?" Cat demanded.

"Eureka!" Pru reiterated as she held up a neatly bundled coil of what was either thick cord or thin rope of some natural fiber, probably hemp.  "I knew there had to be a stash in here somewhere."

Cat watched as Pru pulled a second coil of similar rope/cord from the trunk, closed the lid, and strolled towards the bed.  "I thought you were tired," she purred.

Pru was smiling, of course.  "Not tired," she purred back, "horny."

"Pru!" Cat whined as the smiling and allegedly horny auburn-haired beauty kicked off her heels, threw back the covers, rolled Cat onto her stomach, pulled her arms behind her back, crossed her wrists at the small of her back, and quickly and deftly lashed them together.  She then rolled Cat over onto her back (and bound arms), pulled the remaining free ends of the wrist-binding rope/cord around her waist from either side, cinched them tightly together over her bellybutton, and tied a square-knot.

True to her nickname, the now naked captive had fought the process like the proverbial wildcat!  That is, she smiled a coy, cheek-dimpling smile, offered only theatrical and ineffective resistance, and otherwise cooperated fully.

"I thought Her Ladyship decreed that we're forbidden from playing games until she gets back," Cat purred.

Pru grinned as she combed her fingers through the bangs of Cat's tousled mop.  "There's playing... and there's playing."  She stood, padded to the hamper where Cat had deposited her underwear for laundering (one of the guest services provided at Amberdale Castle), lifted out Pru's panties, then continued on to a chest of drawers, opened a drawer, selected a neatly folded white handkerchief, and returned to the bed.

Cat watched (still smiling) as Pru shook out the handkerchief, then folded it point-to-point into a narrow bandage.  It was a large handkerchief, nearly a scarf.  Pru then reached under her skirt, pulled down and removed her own panties, then balled up Cat's panties and wrapped her own around the resulting silky wad.  Both pair had been bikini briefs, borderline thongs, but together they comprised a fully adequate gag-plug—which Pru proceeded to pack into Cat's unresisting mouth.

"Mrrrrpfh!" Cat complained (in a rather unconvincing manner).  Not unexpectedly, Pru used the handkerchief/bandage to make sure the wad remained firmly in place by tying a cleave-gag, knotting the ends together at the nape of Cat's neck and pulling the ends tight until her cheeks bulged.

"Very pretty," Pru purred as once again she combed her fingers through her prisoner's bangs.  "I just love your 'gag-face.'"  Cat's cheeks did indeed bulge above the tight band of white linen and her oral cavity was filled to capacity.  It truly was an excellent cleave-gag, in Pru's opinion.  Pru then looped one end of the second coil of rope/cord loosely around Cat's neck and tied a non-compacting knot, thus giving her naked, bound, and gagged captive a convenient tether.

Cat tested her wrist-bonds as, with the end of the neck-rope in her left hand, Pru stood and carefully stepped back into her heels... then smiled and pulled the leash taut.

"I don't care what Lady Paulina says," Pru grinned.  "I've waited a long time to show you what's waiting down below, and as the old saying goes, it's easier to ask for forgiveness than to get permission."  She tugged on the leash.  "Up you come!"

With feline grace, despite her bondage, Cat climbed to her bare feet.

Pru turned and headed for the door to the tower corridor, once again Cat's leash drew taut, and she had no choice but to pad along in her captor's wake.

Cat wasn't especially worried (other than about whatever dungeon furnishings Pru was so anxious to show her).  After all, even if they did get caught, the full onus would fall on Pru.  Cat was her naked, bound, and gagged prisoner... on a leash!  How could they blame her for Pru's wanton and rebellious disobedience?