by Van ©2022
		Chapter 9

Naked and 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 outrage!

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 its 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 detail... later.

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 help."

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 upset."

"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 be quiet."

"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!

Time passed... 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 drink!  Meanies!

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.  "Mrrrpfh!"

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 again.

"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... I didn't."

"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 container.

"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 purred.

"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 explanation.

"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 work.

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 radiation exposure.

"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 her butt."

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 former green-bandana-gag.

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 damage.

"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' collective mood.

"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 hogtie.

"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 sun."

"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 explained.

"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 torment you."

Scotti rolled her eyes, shook her head, then strolled towards a small cabinet.

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 conceded.

Sybil had 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 main house.

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.

"Mother?"

"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.

"Mrrrmfh!"

"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 (and smiling).

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 herself.