loosely but inescapably spreadeagled atop her pretty new towel
(her gift from Sybil), Scotti was helpless. It was no fun
being tethered by milky-white plastic cable-ties vripped around
her wrists and ankles to four screw-into-the-ground-type steel
anchors. She'd exhausted (meaning bored) herself with her
futile struggles, which had been purposely weak so as not to
damage her skin at the points of anchorage. Now, Scotti
simply (and limply) lay in her bonds and stared up at the cedar
branches overhead. She didn't scowl at the gray
bark and green needles, of course, as none of her unconscionable
mistreatment had been the fault of the trees. No, the
responsibility for her naked captivity fell squarely on
the pale shoulders of The Wicked DuPont Sisters, who were
sprawled on Scotti's right, lounging in the shade atop their own
colorful towels, resplendent in their naked pasty-white nudity,
not bound with plastic cable-ties, and possibly enjoying
a post-skinny-dip snooze.
The waterfalls continued filling and draining the pool-sized
pond, chickadees continued making periodic visits to the
branches of the alders and the single
willow—"Chicka-dee-dee-dee!"—and a gentle breeze blew across the
slope of the mountain, barely stirring the leaves, needles,
branches, or anything. Scotti languished in her bonds and
heaved a tragic sigh. There was no point in struggling.
Supposedly, the reason for Scotti's current condition was Sybil
DuPont's fondness for her freckles and her daughters' desire to
please their mother by increasing the number and density
thereof. And that included the colonization and eventual
full frecklization of Scotti's currently white (peachy-pink)
breasts and bikini-triangle-area (with ginger bush). And
to prevent sunburn, Iris and Amy had ominously threatened to
slather her entire body with SPF-50 sunscreen! Two
tubes of the pleasantly scented goo were on hand but had
yet to be deployed. Tactically, Scotti agreed that the
sister's forbearance made sense. Scotti was still in the
shade, and involuntary massage would have to happen after solar
exposure had fostered freckle formation. Only then would
the sisters anoint her with sunscreen to stop the
process and protect her from further UV exposure.
Nonetheless, the explicit threat of gliding greasy
hands loomed! Just as the sun loomed in the cloudless
sky. And Scotti wouldn't be remaining in the shade much
longer. The terminator was inching ever closer to her
innocent and undeserving body! Oh, the suspense! And
the Wicked Sisters weren't even bothering to gloat and mock her
in her helplessness! They were simply... lying on their
towels and enjoying the post-skinny-dip afternoon! What an
Suddenly (actually... slowly... very slowly...) the sun
reached Scotti's left hand! Oh, the horror! Oh, the
harmful rays! Oh, the pleasant warmth! The shade
continued it's glacial retreat, and more and more of Scotti's
naked, helpless body passed into full sun! Currently,
freckle-farming had commenced on her left hand, half of her left
forearm, and her left foot... including all five toes!
Scotti heaved a sigh and relaxed in her bonds. Why am
I feeling so damn... melodramatic? she asked
herself. It's just an innocent game... a prank... a
practical joke... right? I hate melodrama.
I need to chill out... and analyze all this in clinical
And then, the silence of the pond was broken by an imperious
command from the senior DuPont sibling: "Drinks!"
Iris sat up and glared at her big sister. "I'm not hauling
the cooler all the way down here by myself. You have to
Amy sat up as well. "That's reasonable." She nodded
at Scotti. "What about Gingerella?"
Iris stretched her arms and yawned. "What about her?"
Amy favored their watching prisoner with her patented Wicked
Smirk. "She's not going anywhere, but she'll start
screaming as soon as we're gone. The bears will hear the
irritating noise, follow it to its irritating source, and eat
her, thereby removing the irritation. Mother will be
"There is that," Iris agreed. "Mother likes bears,"
she explained, apparently for Scotti's benefit, "and wouldn't
want them to get a bad rep."
Meanwhile, Amy had picked up the green bandana she'd used to
contain her ponytail prior to skinny-dipping.
Scotti weakly tugged on her wrist bonds. "What bears?"
she scoffed. "There are no bears... are there?" She
watched as Amy folded the bandana point-to-point into a narrow
bandage, then tied a loose overhand knot in its center.
The Villainous Villainess' intentions were obvious. "Then
again," Scotti continued, "nobody wants to attract hungry
bears," Scotti tugged on her wrist ties (nervously). "I'll
"Oh, yes," Amy agreed, "you will." She nodded to Iris, who
knelt on Scotti's towel, positioned her white knees on either
side of the ginger prisoner's head, and held her steady as Amy
straddled Scotti's weakly squirming body, thrust the bandana's
knot into her frowning mouth, and tied the ends together at the
nape of her neck, under her tousled, air-dried, ginger
pageboy. "There. All nice and quiet."
"MrrrMMpfh!" Scotti growled, glaring up at both DuPont
sisters. Rude? Yes, but they deserved it.
"Just kidding about the bears," Iris said as she stood and
stepped into her moccasins, "although we have seen them... on
very rare occasions.
Amy climbed off Scotti's spreadeagled body, stood, and stepped
into her moccasins as well. "That's why we have the bear
and racoon-proof steel cage around the trashcan. That
said," she added as she took her little sister's hand, "all
our furry neighbors use the pond as a watering hole, but
mostly after dark. You should be safe enough."
"There's a remote chance you might get a visit from Bambi and
his mother," Iris purred, "but a bear? No way."
And with that, the Wicked Sisters strolled up the trail towards
the main house, still hand in hand.
Meanwhile, the sun had crept all the way to Scotti's left elbow,
up her left leg, and was threatening her left knee! Scotti
was nude, helplessly bound and gagged, and abandoned in the
woods as a potential bear snack! Granted, there was only
an infinitesimal probability she'd host an ursine visitor before
the sisters returned (lugging a cooler full of refreshing
beverages), but if a wildlife encounter did happen,
Scotti's only defense would be her hostile attitude! And
what about coyotes? Wolverines? Pumas?
Wolves? Scotti tugged on her bonds and heaved a
gagged sigh. This is mean!
and now the upper half of Scotti's entire body was in
full sun! It was horrible! The sun was...
warm! And where was that cool, refreshing beverage her
Evil Captors had promised? Okay, Iris and Amy hadn't explicitly
promised Scotti a cold drink, but they'd departed to
fetch a cooler. The offer was implicitly implied!
And then... it happened! (And it wasn't a Close
Encounter of the Furry Kind.)
The DuPont sisters reappeared, trudging down the trail from the
Main Compound and returning to The Pond, still naked (except for
their moccasins), and carrying between them a YETI®-brand,
medium-sized, hard-shell cooler in a pleasing purple-plum color
(with black trim). Scotti frowned. The cooler wasn't
that big. Iris could have handled it by herself
without too much difficulty. And how many cans of
soda or bottles of water did they need to lug down to the pond
anyway? Obviously, it was a plot. Amy had gone along
to "help" as a clever ruse to leave Scotti behind at The Pond,
naked, bound, gagged, alone, and totally defenseless against
any and all carnivorous creatures that might wander by for a
Scotti lifted her bandana-gagged head, tugged on her cable-tie
bonds (which caused her boobs to wobble in a menacing manner),
and uttered a muffled but fully justified complaint.
The DuPont sisters ignored Scotti completely. What they
did do, however, was open said cooler, reach inside, and extract
a pair of quite obviously icy cold and inevitably refreshing
aluminum cans of Mountain Dew® Baja Mango Gem® soda! And
then, being the heartless and sadistic blackguards that they
were, they popped the tabs, enjoyed deep and overtly pleasurable
gulps of the cans' brisk, invigorating contents... then heaved
satisfied sighs and smiled at Scotti. That's right, they
staged an impromptu soft drink commercial for Scotti's
naked, spreadeagled, sun-baked, and cleave-gagged benefit!
The absolute fiends!
Scotti stared razor-sharp but unfortunately imaginary
daggers at the fizzy soda guzzling sisters, then further
communicated her displeasure with a succinct and, dare she even
think it, eloquent remark. "Mrrrk!"
"Poor Scotti," Iris sighed (and grinned).
"Give her a drink," Amy ordered, waving her colorful mostly
orange (meaning mango) colored can in Scotti's pathetic
direction. She was also grinning.
"Okay," Iris agreed, then knelt on Scotti's towel in the same
position she'd used earlier to steady her ginger friend's head
so her Villainous Villainess of a sister could apply her pretty
green knotted-bandana-cleave-gag. Iris tugged the green
gag in question from Scotti's pouting mouth, lifted and
supported the back of her head with her left hand, then held the
can to Scotti's lips.
Scotti drank eagerly... then sighed and licked her lips.
"That's good," she conceded. "I was expecting some sort of
citrus-orange flavor, but instead it's..."
"Mango?" Amy suggested.
"Shut up!" Scotti huffed. "I'm not talking to you."
She accepted a second drink from the can... then sighed once
"Mango?" Iris suggested.
"Exactly," Scotti confirmed. "it's tangy, but without
being all that tart. I like it."
"Did you know the Pakistanis love mangoes?" Iris
continued. "It's a national obsession."
Scotti favored her ex-roommate with an even stare. "No...
"Supposedly, they grow several different varieties that are
rarely exported to the States," Iris continued, then held the
can so Scotti could drink for a third time... which emptied the
"Fascinating," Scotti said after swallowing, perfectly deadpan.
Amy reached back into the cooler and handed a fresh can of
Mountain Dew® Baja Mango Gem® to her little sister.
And then... it happened!
That is, things took a totally unexpected and rather alarming
turn! All three skinny-dippers simultaneously noticed
that Sybil DuPont was descending the trail from the
main house! Also, she was naked (except for a really
pretty pair of slightly worn moccasins with decorative
bead-work)! And she had a rolled towel tucked under one
arm. Also, she was tall, beautiful, curvaceous, and
athletic! Her long, dark hair framed her gorgeous, smiling
face and trailed down her back. Obviously, the DuPont
matriarch had decided to join her daughters and ginger
house-guest in their under-dressed aquatic excursion/expedition.
"Mother!" Amy and Iris bleated in perfect unison.
Scotti smiled. Busted! The DuPont sisters
were caught in the act! "Good afternoon, Sybil," she
"Good afternoon, Scotti," Sybil responded with a warm smile,
then shifted her gaze to her daughters... and her smile
faded. "Would you care to explain yourselves?"
"Freckles!" Iris blurted.
"We're helping Scotti grow more freckles," Amy expanded their
"I see." Sybil shifted her gaze to Scotti. "And you
agreed to this?"
Scotti looked up at the DuPont sister (who were clearly worried
but trying their best to hide it)... then turned back to the
miscreants' mother. "Well... no... not technically...
but please don't punish them too severely." She
pursed her lips in a slight, carefully calibrated smile of total
innocence and batted her green eyes for added emphasis.
Sybil's smile returned, then she focused on her wayward
offspring. "On your towels," she ordered as she strolled
to the bundle of milky white plastic cable-ties still resting
atop the black plastic trash bag from which Iris had produced
the steel ground-anchors.
Amy and Isis exchanged woeful looks of martyrdom and heaved
truly heartbreaking sighs, then followed their maternal unit's
order, sat on their respective towels, and watched with sullen
resignation as Sybil pulled six ties from the bundle and set to
When the proverbial dust settled, Amy and Iris were lying on
their stomachs, breasts, and thighs and were stringently hogtied!
Their mother had vripped their thumbs together, behind
their backs—vripped their big toes together as well—then
vripped their bound thumbs to their bound toes!
The naked sisters wiggled and squirmed, testing their minimal
but apparently inescapable bonds in a classic Courtesy
Struggle. The free ends of the ties rattled and swayed,
validating the enthusiasm of their tests.
"Mother!" Iris whined.
"Stifle yourself," Amy huffed, staring evenly at her kid
sister. "It's a fair cop."
The free ends of the cable-ties continued flopping and shaking
as the sisters struggled in the same way the free ends of
Scotti's wrist and ankle cable-tie bonds behaved when she struggled
against her cruel but not especially stringent spreadeagle-ties.
Meanwhile, the task of restraining her misbehaving daughters
complete, Sybil had deployed her towel on the lawn next to her
squirming daughters and the spreadeagled Scotti. Not to
Scotti's great surprise, the towel in question was another
Pendleton Native-American-Blanket-Pattern product, and was very
pretty, predominantly in shades of tan with earth-tone
accents... very Southwest Desert. Scotti liked it.
And then... without saying anything else to her hogtied
daughters or releasing Scotti from her
four-point-spread predicament... Sybil kicked off her moccasins,
strolled to the pond, and jumped in. (Apparently,
cannonballs weren't covered by the No Diving edict.)
So... now Scotti was one of three naked
prisoners. On the plus side, her gag was no longer
plugging her mouth, she'd been hydrated with a new and yummy
beverage (Mountain Dew® Baja Mango Gem®!) and Amy and Sybil were
getting a down payment on their comeuppance for being such a
pair of freckle-farming bitches. On the minus side,
however, Scotti was still naked, spreadeagled, and she'd been
basking in the full sun for what she considered to be... long
enough. Much more and she'd develop at least a mild
sunburn, especially on her boobs and bikini-triangle.
And apparently, Scotti wasn't the only one keeping track of her
"Mother?" Iris yelled.
Sybil paused in her watery relaxation/recreation and turned to
face the lawn area, dog-paddling to stay in place. "Yes?"
Iris nodded at Scotti. "She's about done. You need
to either apply sunscreen or get the scissors and let her go so
she can do it herself."
"It is about time," Amy confirmed. "And once
you've oiled her up, you need to flip her over and stake her out
again so the sun can get at her butt and back... especially
Sybil shifted her smiling gaze to Scotti. "I see."
She swam to the edge of the pond, planted her feet, and (water
dripping for her firm, trim, sexy-for-an-old-lady body), slowly
emerged from the pond as the bottom grew more shallow.
In Scotti's opinion, Sybil had done a very credible imitation of
Botticelli's famous "Venus
on the Half-Shell." She watched as Sybil
reached into the black plastic trash bag and pulled out a second
and much smaller clear plastic zip-lock bag, just large enough
to contain a compact pair of bandage scissors. The
scissors clacking in her right hand, Sibyl strolled to
Scotti and her towel, smiled, and knelt atop the spreadeagled
prisoner, just as Amy had done when she'd applied Scotti's
Sybil's pale, smooth, slender-bur-curvaceous body was still wet,
but the dripping phase was more-or-less over, so Scotti wasn't
being splattered with secondhand pond water... much... which she
supposed was a good thing. Sybil leaned forward until her
damp breasts almost touched Scotti's dry, sun-warmed
breasts, then reached out and snipped Scotti's right wrist-bond—Snick!—followed
by her left wrist bond—Snick! Sybil then reversed
position, which meant her butt (and lady bits) were now
more-or-less hovering just above Scotti's blushing face, and
then—Snick! Snick!—she freed Scotti's ankles.
Scotti watched as Sybil (all of Sybil) stood and, still smiling,
offered her her right hand. Scotti took it and let herself
be helped to her feet. Sybil retained possession of
Scotti's hand and examined the skin of Scotti's right wrist with
maternal concern. There was a faint pink line, but no real
"Good," Sybil purred, then planted a kiss on Scotti's
forehead. "I'm awarding you two Penalty Kicks," she
stated, her lips curled in a very maternal smile.
"Huh?" Scotti responded, her green eyes blinking in surprise, or
shock, or just on general principles. She then reached
behind her head, untied her former green bandana-cleave-gag
which, post-soda-guzzling, had been dangling around her neck as
a green bandana/scarf, and tossed it towards Amy and her towel.
"As Head Umpire," Sybil explained. "I'm granting you two
free moves, one with respect to each of my wayward
daughters. Entirely at your discretion you may order each
of them to let you tie them up in any manner you see fit, and
they have no choice but to obey."
"Mother!" the sisters whined in perfect synchronicity.
"Hush!" Sybil ordered, then planted another kiss on Scotti's
forehead. "Let me know if they give you any trouble and
I'll double the punishment."
"Yes, Sybil," Scotti responded (and blushed).
This did noting to improve the DuPont sisters'
"Is it okay if I enlist one of them to teach me how to do
something horrible to the other?" Scotti inquired, gazing at the
bound and naked sisters.
"Of course," Sybil purred, "and then the latter will help you
deal with the former." She turned her smiling gaze to her
daughters. "I expect you two to be good sports about
this," she stated.
"Yes, Mother," Iris and Amy sighed in begrudging unison.
Scotti gazed at the unhappy and nude captives, then turned back
to gaze up at Sybil. "Is it okay if I take Iris back to
the cottage with me so we can talk?"
"Yes, dear," Sybil chuckled. "I assume you have sunscreen
of your own?"
"Yes ma'am," Scotti nodded. "I just didn't think to bring
it with me."
"Leave everything here," Sybil suggested (ordered). "I'll
have Amy deal with it." And then, she planted yet another
kiss on her ginger house guest, this time on Scotti's
lips. "Off you go."
"Yes ma'am," Scotti responded, then stepped into her
moccasins She stooped and retrieved the bandage-scissors,
then knelt beside Iris' blanket and carefully severed the
cable-tie binding her big toes... then the tie enforcing the
"Thank you," Iris sighed as Scotti helped her to her bare feet.
"Shut up!" Scotti huffed. "I'm mad at you 'cause you
betrayed me by conspiring with your big sister to stake me out
under the burning sun."
Iris smiled sheepishly and shrugged her pale shoulders.
"You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs... and you can't
make freckles without staking somebody out under the blazing
"True that," Amy chuckled.
"You can also shut up!" Scotti barked, but found
herself suppressing an appreciative smile. Iris could be
witty on occasion... even when naked with her thumbs
vripped behind her back.
Meanwhile, Sybil had smiled, waved goodbye, and jumped back into
the pond to continue her skinny-dipping. Amy heaved a
deep, truly tragic sigh, then resumed her naked and hogtied
languishing. The sun was creeping in her direction, but by
Scotti's best estimate it would never reach the Villainous
Villainess and her pretty towel before sunset. The
surrounding cedars were too tall.
"C'mon," Scotti ordered, took her disgruntled ex-roommate by the
arm, and led her away from the pond and up the trail towards the
main compound... and no sooner had Scotti and Iris entered The
Cottage than the ginger rounded on her pale prisoner in
righteous indignation. "Iris! What the hell?
You're supposed to be helping me get revenge on Amy,
not helping Amy do new things to me!"
"Oh, lighten up," Iris chuckled. "It's called multitasking.
Look into it."
Scotti favored her unrepentant captive with an even stare.
"Multitasking," she muttered.
"Engaging in more than one activity at the same time," Iris
"I know what multitasking is!" Scotti responded.
"You're still a rat."
Iris tugged gingerly (no pun intended) on her cable-tied thumbs
and affected her best sympathy-invoking pout. "There are always
multitudinous threads of The Game unfolding simultaneously,"
she lectured. "Just because you and I have a revenge plot
simmering against Amy, that doesn't mean I can't join her to
Scotti rolled her eyes, shook her head, then strolled towards a
Iris watched with a self-satisfied smile as Scotti walked
away... then her smile faded as Scotti opened the cabinet,
reached inside, and produced a very familiar looking black
nylon duffel-bag. It was one of several of the DuPonts'
many "Gaming Kits," meaning backpacks or luggage they used to
lug around functional subsets of her binding and gagging
supplies. Specifically, it was the very same duffel Amy
had used to transport the supplies she'd used to perpetrate The
Great Chair and Bed Bondage Atrocity that had engendered the
current revenge/retaliation cycle. Iris had also caught a
flash of pink before Scotti closed the cabinet door, strongly
suggesting that Scotti had also retained custody of Amy's
gym-bag stocked with miscellaneous whoopie-fun-time naughty toys
(like nipple-clamps and Hello Kitty swimsuit bottoms suitable
for panty-teaser-vibrator-torture). Iris made a mental
note to scold her big sister for not returning her personal
gaming supplies to their proper storage locations.
"You're going to help me learn how to tie a proper box-tie,"
Scotti stated (ordered). She was blushing (or maybe was
slightly sunburned), but was definitely in charge.
Iris stared at the black duffel, then heaved a sigh.
"Okay. If I have too." She turned so her back, butt,
and captive thumbs were facing Scotti. "Cut me free and
I'll show you." She nodded across the room. "We'll
do it in front of the mirror so you can watch where and how I
position the ropes. The diagonal arm and torso cinch is
the trickiest part for most beginners."
Scotti turned to smile at the mirror in question (a simple
full-length standing mirror that perfectly complemented the rest
of the decor), and her smile turned undeniably wicked.
"Or," she purred, "we can do it in front of the mirror so you
can give me advice as I position the ropes."
Iris heaved another sigh. "I guess that'll work too," she
always taken her maternal responsibilities quite
seriously. At the DuPont Compound, Mother was the one that
ensured the required housecleaning chores were accomplished (not
that she wasn't above delegating the work to her
offspring). Also, Mother was the final arbiter of all
domestic disputes. When they held tea parties, Mother was
the one that poured the tea, as required by Ancient
Tradition. It only stood to reason, therefore, that Sybil
had already made all necessary preparations for the evening meal
before joining the youngsters at The Pond. Juicy kebabs
were already marinating in the refrigerator. And,
she'd concluded all skinny-dipping activities with plenty
of time to complete final preparations and perform the actual
cooking of the meal.
Resplendent in her skinny-dipping costume of slightly worn and
very pretty beaded moccasins (and nothing else), her colorful
towel rolled and tucked under one arm, and her long, dark,
sun-dried and finger-combed hair framing her gorgeous face and
trailing down her back, Sybil strolled up the trail towards the
Amy followed one step behind. She was also wearing her
moccasins (and nothing else) and was carrying the grape-colored
YETI® cooler between her two hands, and resting atop the cooler
were three rolled towels: her own, Iris', and Scotti's.
That's right, with the sole exception of her mother's towel,
poor Amy was burdened with everything everybody had taken down
to the pond for the skinny-dipping expedition! Oh, the
injustice of it all! Was Amy sullen and resentful?
Yes, of course. In the first place, given the
circumstances, sulking was perfectly normal behavior, and in the
second place, it was an expected element of The Game to react
with overt negativity when things didn't go your way. If
the loser didn't provide the proper growth medium for the
victor's spiteful glee, how could she expect a satisfying gloat
when it was her turn to be favored by fortune?
"Amy?" Sybil purred.
"There's no one here but you, me, and the chickadees. Stop
being such a Gloomy Gus."
"It's expected, Mother."
"Suit yourself." The Main Compound was coming into
view. "Dinner will be kebabs and fruit salad on the
deck. We're on a tight schedule, so get cleaned up
and—" Sybil skidded to a halt, nearly causing Amy to
collide with her backside.
The deck area had come into view and, to Sybil's surprise, the
grill was smoking and the nearby table was cluttered with plates
and various containers. Scotti, dressed in a sage-green
tank-top, ragged cut-offs (Daisy Dukes), and her moccasins, was
busily fussing with what Sybil now realized was the makings of
the planned supper. Iris, however, was naked and sitting
in one of the table's outdoor dining-style chairs, and she had
no choice in the matter! Sybil's little angel was tightly
bound from shoulders to ankles in coffee-stained conditioned
cotton clothesline and tightly bound to said
chair! Also, she was tightly cleave-gagged with what
appeared to be a knotted brown bandana (in the traditional white
floral/geometric printed pattern)!
"What'cha know," Amy chuckled. "Gingerella isn't such a
wimp after all."
"Don't be unkind, Amy," Sybil huffed. "Scotti might be
inexperienced, but she's no wimp."
"I know," Amy conceded. "Just kidding."
Sybil resumed walking, correcting her course to arrive at the
deck. Amy followed in her wake.
Scotti's back was turned as she tended the kebabs sizzling on
the grill, but Iris noticed the arrival of her mostly naked and
smiling immediate family.
"What?" Scotti responded, then turned to find Sybil and Amy
arriving on the deck. "Oh, hi." She pointed at the
grill. "These should be ready soon. Why don't you
guys get dressed, and somebody needs to get the drinks. I
didn't do it 'cause I wasn't sure what you had planned.
Red wine? Iced tea?"
"I was planning on brown ale," Sybil answered. "There are
several bottles of Moose Drool in the back of the wine fridge."
Scotti frowned (slightly). "Brown ale and fruit salad?"
"It goes well with something savory like kebabs," Sybil said,
"and the sweet note of the fruit won't be overpowering."
Scotti's smile returned.
Sybil nodded at her naked, bound, and gagged daughter (as
opposed to her naked and overburdened daughter). "You're
cashing in your Penalty Kick already?"
"Oh, no!" Scotti responded, shaking her head (and causing her
neatly brushed ginger pageboy to sway). "Iris is helping
me develop my rigging skills. Up 'til now it's all been
mostly academic, meaning my research. I need practical
experience. She's helping."
"I see," Sybil purred, still gazing at her youngest daughter
Amy was also smiling at Iris, and instead of focusing on the
exchange between Mother and Gingerella, Iris was staring daggers
at her older sibling. Amy had nothing whatsoever to do
with her being naked, chair-bound, and gagged, but she had to
direct her resentful displeasure somewhere. She
certainly wasn't going to glare at Mother, and Scotti was just
too darn cute pretending she was a seasoned villainess.
That left Amy.
Sybil smiled and watched as Scotti painted the kebabs with
marinade... then gave them an expert flip. She stepped
forward, planted a kiss atop Scotti's head, then turned to the
kitchen door. "Carry on!" she called back over her
shoulder." Amy grinned at Scotti and followed.
"Yes, ma'am," Scotti responded, then smiled at Iris and resumed
her culinary duties.
"I think Iris' bad judgement has allowed a monster to infiltrate
our ranks," Sybil purred as she closed the kitchen door behind
Amy, shutting them off from the deck.
"No, ya think?" Amy drawled. "Isn't it great?"
Sybil continued smiling as they crossed the kitchen.
"She's adorable... meaning Scotti. Not that Iris isn't
adorable as well."
"You're prejudiced," Amy chuckled. "Anyway, Gingerella is
gonna be a ton of fun."
Mother and daughter continued to their respective bedrooms to
dress for dinner. Sybil's cunning master plan was to not
interfere with the younger generation's shenanigans while
simultaneously insuring the hijinks didn't get out of
hand. So far, so good... and she was quite enjoying
| Chapter 9