was a full moon, but as predicted, the clouds had arrived that
afternoon and rain was still falling. Nothing was visible
beyond Kennedy's bedroom windows but darkness. She lay in
bed, staring up at the underside of the canopy. She could
hear drops pattering against the glass, driven by occasional
gusts of wind. It wasn't a serious storm, but it was a
good night to be indoors and warm and snug.
Kennedy sighed as she reflected on the events of the day,
especially what had occurred after the revelation of a room full
of metal restraints in the Castle basement. After letting
Viv lock her in Darby cuffs and leg irons—and Kennedy still had
no idea why she'd let that happen—and watching Viv lock herself
in a full set of slave-chains, they'd gone upstairs to dinner,
Lena had confiscated the keys, and refused to unlock their
restraints. Kennedy had suffered the humiliation of being
fed Lena's delicious venison stew bite by bite by Viv, her
fellow prisoner, and after dinner Lena had still refused
to release them!
Kennedy heaved another sigh. Okay, truth be told, it had
been a hoot and a half to be helpless and waited upon by
Vivienne, and she'd forgotten the entertainment value of Viv's
Drama Queen routine. While Lena cleaned up after the meal,
refusing help as always, the Prisoners of the Castle had clinked
and clanked their way to the Theater. And all the time Viv
had moaned and sighed and hammed it up as a much put-upon
damsel-in-distress. She was hilarious. They flopped
onto the sofa, side by side, and watched TV. Lena brought
them a bowl of popcorn a while later—which was very nice for a
Cruel Tyrant—but didn't unlock their cuffs and chains until it
was time for bed.
And here Kennedy was, in her usual t-shirt and panties, under
the covers, and confused... or maybe conflicted. She'd
promised herself she'd lower the boom at the first sign of more
bondage nonsense, but she hadn't, and she didn't know why.
Okay, Plan B, Kennedy decided, as long as it
doesn't interfere with my work, I'll put up with a little
nonsense. She could tell it made Vivienne happy,
and it was fun... a little... sort of. Also, all that
steel hardware in the Castle basement needed to be inventoried
and evaluated, didn't it? A sinister smile curled
Kennedy's lips as she stared into the darkness. I have
to make sure all the items are in working order, don't I?
she thought (rationalized). What better way than to
enlist Viv as my assistant and use her as a guinea
pig. After all, she's already volunteered to help.
Kennedy closed her eyes, and, with the pleasant image of Viv
struggling to escape from a set of antique steel cuffs dancing
in her head, drifted off to sleep.
|The Curious Case...
Lena were sharing Lena's bed. Both were naked. Lena
was completely free, of course, but Vivienne's wrists were
locked behind her back in the Darby handcuffs Kennedy had worn
earlier and her ankles were hobbled by Kennedy's former leg
irons. Neither was gagged, unless one considered probing
tongues and sucking lips to be some form of kiss-gag.
Vivienne gasped and a delicate shudder quivered through her
body. Lena had her in a tight embrace and her right hand
was delicately stroking her flushed pussy, and it had been for
some time. Lena's strong legs were intertwined with
Vivienne's, holding her thighs apart and defeating, with trivial
ease, her vigorous attempts to close her legs and squirm
free. Lena's hand continued to glide.
Finally, Vivienne broke the kiss. "Oh, Mistress!" she
gasped, but quickly—"Mrrrrrf!"—Lena clamped her left hand across
"Quiet, you little weasel," Lena whispered in Vivienne's ear,
then gently took the shivering captive's earlobe between her
teeth and gave it a playful tug. "Cum for Mistress," she
whispered, maintaining the hand-gag.
"M'mrrrh!" Vivienne struggled for all she was worth, but
Lena's embrace was as unbreakable and inescapable as the steel
cuffs and leg irons.
"There you go," Lena purred. "I can always tell exactly
when you cum, Naughty Girl. Your twitching thigh muscles
are a dead giveaway."
Vivienne shuddered and shook... then remembered to
breathe. She had, indeed, cum, and it had been a
humdinger. "Oh, Mistress," she sighed when Lena released
They lay together on the bed, Lena smiling and stroking her
captive pixie's short, fine hair, and Vivienne panting and
gasping for breath. The little brunette's skin shone with
sweat and her nipples were erect. Lena was not sweating,
nor was she panting, but she knew that would soon change.
"I believe things are going well," Lena said, "don't you?"
"Yes, Mistress," Vivienne agreed. Being in excellent
shape, thanks to her trainer's rigorous program, her breathing
was already returning to normal. "Your plan is working
Lena smiled. She knew when she was being played. She
also knew that Vivienne knew that she knew. "Tomorrow, I
want you to ask her to pose for you."
Vivienne's eyes widened. "Tomorrow? So soon?"
"Tomorrow," Lena confirmed. "Now..." She relaxed her
embrace. "Wiggle down and earn your keep. Do a good
job and Mistress may reward you for your diligence,
Vivienne heaved a tragic, theatrical sigh. It was
appropriate. Then, she wiggled and squirmed her way down
the bed until her face was between Lena's splayed legs, inches
from Mistress' flushed and glistening pussy. "I'll do my
best, Mistress," she pouted. Lena loved her Sad Little
"Get to work," Lena chuckled, ran her fingers through Vivienne's
short, dark locks, took a gentle grip, and pressed the little
captive's face against her crotch.
Now, it was Lena's turn to shiver and squirm.
|The Curious Case...
the sky was still overcast but it was no longer raining.
The forecast predicted partial sun, commencing around noon.
At breakfast Vivienne didn't mention the events of the day
before, other than to state that she had returned the slave
chain set, Darby handcuffs, and Darby leg-irons to the basement
storeroom. Other than that she said nothing.
Kennedy suspected Viv wanted to talk about something, something
other than the cache of kinky hardware, but wasn't ready.
Kennedy could tell. Her social radar had returned to the
fine-tuned setting she'd developed from four years of living
with her former roommate. Whatever it was, Vivienne was
reluctant to talk and Kennedy decided not to press the issue.
The morning inventory went well. Kennedy was able to check
off her own guest bedroom and one other. She was sure
she'd complete the entire floor and get a start on the next that
afternoon. When the morning workout alarm sounded, she
hurried down to the gym and undressed, hanging her clothes in
one of the lockers. Since Lena had decreed that they would
be exercising ancient Greek style from now on, they'd agreed
that using the gym lockers made the most sense.
Lena was ready to go, but Vivienne was late. She scampered
into the gym, made a beeline for the sauna, and fiddled with the
controls. "Kennedy and I are going to take a sauna after
our workout, okay?"
Kennedy smiled and raised an eyebrow. "We are?"
"Suit yourself," Lena answered. "Get ready."
Kennedy smiled as Vivienne opened the locker next to her own and
began undressing. "A sauna?" she said quietly.
"I have a favor to ask," Viv explained.
I knew it! Kennedy thought. "What?"
Vivienne had finished stripping and closed her locker.
Kennedy smiled and followed her friend into the main gym.
|The Curious Case...
Vivienne to running on the treadmill and Kennedy to the dreaded
universal machine for her first true weight training
session. Both had worked up a healthy sweat by the time
they'd served their time. They dragged themselves to the
sauna and entered.
"It's hot in here," Kennedy noted as Vivienne used a wooden
ladle and bucket of cool water to wet down a cedar bench so they
"Kinda the point," Viv responded.
Kennedy could tell Viv was nervous. That was a weak
comeback to the verbal softball she'd slow-tossed her
friend. Not at all Viv's style. "Okay, what's this
mysterious favor," Kennedy demanded as she settled her naked
rump on the wet planks.
"Uh, you know how I paint, right?" Viv asked as she sat next to
"I know how you paint?" Kennedy chuckled. "Are you
asking about style? Impressionist, or maybe
impressionist-realist, if that's a thing. And you work in
oil. The landscape hanging in your room looks like oil,
"No, I mean yes, I mean..." Vivienne sighed, then favored her
friend with a shy smile. "Yes, I work mostly in oils and
acrylics, but... Okay. Look. I'm nervous."
"Really?" Kennedy said dryly.
"Yeah," Vivienne sighed. "Anyway..."
"Viv, just ask," Kennedy chuckled.
"Okay." Vivienne sighed, again. "Will you pose for
Kennedy was surprised. "Pose?"
"I've had this idea buzzing in my head since yesterday,"
Vivienne explained, "after I found all that stuff down
below. It's for a painting and a story."
"You want to paint me?"
Vivienne nodded. "As a medieval princess."
"I haven't seen a room full of costumes anywhere," Kennedy
said. "Is there another Chamber of Secrets down
Vivienne shrugged. "Who knows? Anyway, the princess
has been kidnapped and she's being held prisoner, so..."
Her smile returned, but was unusually shy. "You're wearing
Kennedy favored her smiling friend with a dubious stare.
"Nude? You want me to pose for you in the nude?"
Vivienne nodded. "Uh huh. Please? If I can
pull off what I have in mind it'll be great, and will
inspire me as I write the book, and... Please?"
Kennedy let the suspense build for a few seconds so she could
enjoy Viv's plaintive, imploring expression... then
relented. "Sure, no problem."
"Oh, Ken-doll!" Vivienne gushed, and pulled her soon-to-be model
into a warm embrace.
"Hey, you're all sweaty!" Kennedy protested.
"So are you," Vivienne giggled. "It's hot in here,
"Enough," Kennedy laughed, and gently pushed her friend
away. "I hope you're quick with your brush work, 'cause I
have work to do and can't waste a lot of time posing."
"Oh, no problem," Vivienne said brightly. "I've already
cleared it with your boss."
"My boss? You called your Auntie Renee?"
"Lena," Vivienne clarified. "She's your immediate
boss. Didn't you read your contract?"
"Of course I read my contract," Kennedy huffed.
"Lena isn't just the cook and trainer," Vivienne
continued. "She's also the estate manager, and therefore
the senior Vidler International employee in residence. In
the event of natural disaster, alien invasion, or zombie
apocalypse, she's in charge."
"I knew I should have read the fine print," Kennedy
chuckled. "I assume your painting falls into the category
of natural disaster?"
"Yuk-yuk," Vivienne muttered, then stuck out her tongue.
"Anyway. Lena says there's no set deadline for you getting your
antiquing thing done, and she considers not having to
listen to me beg, whine, and pester to be a high corporate
priority. Let's do it tomorrow, okay?"
"I guess I can take a day off," Kennedy shrugged. "I still
don't understand how I'm going to be a medieval princess if
there's no costume. Nude is nude."
Vivienne grinned. "Leave that to me."
|The Curious Case...
breakfast the next morning, Vivienne took Kennedy by the hand
and led her up the Castle's main staircase to the third floor,
the floor above Kennedy's guest bedroom and below the master
suite. The sun had returned and the morning was bright,
sending shafts of sunlight through the bars of the eastward
windows. The door of the Empty Room was ahead, and it was
"You want me to pose in an empty room?" Kennedy demanded as they
crossed the threshold, then she froze in place and her eyes
The Empty Room was no longer empty. Vivienne's easel, with
a blank canvas clamped in place, a paint-stand, and a stool were
unfolded, carefully arranged, and ready for use. Also—and
it had been the cause of Kennedy's gasp—iron chains dangled from
some of the rings set in the wall opposite the door.
"Isn't it great?" Vivienne gushed. "While you were working
yesterday afternoon, Lena and I went down to the room with all
the stuff, decided what to use, and she rigged this for
me. Isn't it great?"
"Yeah, great," Kennedy muttered. She stepped closer to the
far wall for a better look. Kennedy's Darby cuffs and leg
irons and Viv's slave-chains from the day before had been
gleaming, polished steel. The manacles, shackles, and
chains before her looked to be hand-forged iron. What were
obviously manacles dangled from chains somewhere between three
and four feet off the floor and about three feet apart.
The other hardware was in a tangle on the floor.
Kennedy lifted one of the manacles and turned it in her
hands. On close inspection she suspected the wide, thick,
heavy cuff and its chain were modern steel finished to resemble
wrought iron. The chain links and the manacle's exterior
presented a hammered appearance, but the interior was polished
and the edges that might otherwise abrade a wearer's wrist were
rounded and smooth. It was in two halves, hinged together
with flat flanges opposite.
"Okay," Vivienne said. "Let's get you into your costume."
Kennedy released the manacle and let it clatter back against the
wall, then turned, placed her hands on her hips, and fixed her
smiling friend with an even stare. "You expect me to strip
and let you chain me to the wall?"
"As I explained," Vivienne sighed. "You're a captured
medieval princess. Don't you want to be a
Kennedy continued to stare.
"I haven't worked out your full back story," Vivienne said, "but
I assume you're Welsh or Irish, and have been captured by the
Kennedy was still staring.
"I suppose you could be Breton," Vivienne
shrugged. "They have redheads. You know, from
Brittany? How's your French?"
"You really expect me to strip naked and let you chain
me to the wall?" Kennedy reiterated.
Vivienne was slightly confused. "Well... yeah."
This was Kennedy's moment of truth. Bondage nonsense—or no
bondage nonsense? Kennedy glowered. Vivienne smiled
back (nervously). Seconds passed... then a ghost of a
smile curled Kennedy's lips and she unzipped her jeans.
Vivienne watched as Kennedy undressed and folded her
clothes. Jeans, t-shirt, panties, and bra were soon a neat
stack atop her sneakers.
"Ya had me goin' for a while, Ken-doll," Vivienne chuckled.
Kennedy was gazing at the collection of chains, hands still on
her hips. "Well, might as well get on with it."
"Good," A familiar voice sounded from somewhere behind them,
"I'm just in time."
Kennedy and Vivienne turned to find the Lena leaning against the
Kennedy almost swung her hands from her hips to cover
her crotch, but stopped herself. Now why did I almost
do that? she wondered. What's the big deal?
Actually, she knew perfectly well what was the big deal.
Being nude while skinny-dipping or exercising was one
thing. Being naked and in chains was something else.
Kennedy was nervous.
Lena had a small cloth bag in one hand. It rattled and
swung as she walked towards Kennedy. Whatever was inside
was heavy and metallic.
Kennedy blinked in surprise. "What are you
gonna—Hey!" Lena had taken her by the right wrist and was
shoving her—okay, gently pushing her—towards the waiting chains.
"Kneel," Lena ordered, pointing at the pile of dark iron.
Kennedy looked to Vivienne for support.
Vivienne shrugged. "She's the captain of the guard, sent
by His Lordship to clamp the princess in irons. I don't
have a costume for her, either."
Kennedy heaved a long-suffering sigh, knelt, and began pushing
and/or dragging the chains and hardware on the floor to the side
so she could sit.
"Back to the wall," Lena ordered, and Kennedy complied.
The naked "princess" watched as the "captain of the guard"
placed her right wrist in a manacle and closed the halves
together. Obviously, Lena and Viv had discussed her
disposition during the selection and rigging of the dungeon
hardware. Lena reached into the cloth bag and produced
what looked to be a short bolt with a half-rounded head.
She fit it into hole in the flanges of the now joined manacle
halves, then pulled a T-shaped key on a long chain from under
her t-shirt, inserted it into a tiny socket in the bolt, and
gave it a turn.
"Interrupted screw with a spring-loaded side-bolt," Lena
explained, "impossible to open without the key, especially one
handed and without lock-picks, and designed to look like a
hammered rivet once closed."
"Clever," Kennedy huffed. "Very realistic." Her left
wrist was locked into the other manacle. Now, she was
sitting against the stone wall with her elbows bent and her
hands raised to either side, classic damsel-in-chains.
Lena began sorting out the chains and hardware on the
floor. An iron belt went around Kennedy's waist and was
locked, followed by a collar, then a pair of shackles for her
ankles, similar to the manacles. The belt, collar, and
shackles were all connected by a long, loose chain, one end of
which was attached to a ring set in the wall near the floor.
Kennedy had to admit the hardware was impressive. She
suspected they might be late 19th or early 20th century props
commissioned to outfit a "Romantic Dungeon" at the estate of
some aristocrat with more money than sense. There had been
a thriving niche market for such things after Gothic horror and
melodrama became vogue. Also, everything fit
perfectly. That is, the manacles, shackles, belt, and
collar were snug, but not too snug. Kennedy tugged on the
manacles. Obviously, everything was also inescapable.
"Perfect!" Vivienne gushed, then walked over and began arranging
Kennedy's tousled curls. "Just. Perfect." She
arranged the loose chain still pooled on the floor, then
returned to her easel. "Don't move," she admonished her
chained friend, then selected a charcoal pencil from the
paint-stand and began sketching on the canvas with rapid,
An infuriating smirk on her face, Lena had returned to
the doorway. "As you're both going to be busy, morning
workout is cancelled," she announced, "as well as afternoon
swim." And with that, she left.
Vivienne continued to sketch.
Kennedy heaved a sigh. "What the hell have I gotten myself
into," she muttered under her breath.
"What?" Vivienne asked, but didn't pause in her work.
"Nothing," Kennedy huffed. Suddenly, she realized Lena had
taken the key with her. Not that it mattered, but she
wished the chain and key was around Viv's neck, rather than the
Captain of the Guard's. No workout and no swim,
she mused. Does that mean I'll be stuck in the tower
"Remember," Vivienne said as she worked, "you're a captured
princess, far from home, prisoner of a cruel Norman baron who
wants to marry you to his son so he can claim your father's
lands and petition the crown to bump him up to duke.
You're not happy."
Kennedy managed a weak smile. "Not happy. I'll try
and remember. Is the baron's son handsome?"
"Reasonably so," Vivienne answered, "but he doesn't bathe very
often and is more interested in horses, dogs, and hunting than
Kennedy shrugged, as best she could. "At least it puts
venison and wild boar on the table."
"There is that," Vivienne agreed. "Now, stop talking and
"Yes, ma'am," Kennedy sighed. "Languishing, ma'am."
|The Curious Case...
It turned out
that boredom was the worst part of being a naked, medieval
princess chained to the wall of a tower cell in the castle of an
evil baron, and that was true even if you were only pretending
to be a naked, medieval princess chained to the wall of a tower
cell in the castle of an evil baron. As long as the
nakedness and chains were real, one quickly became
bored-bored-bored. Who knew?
Kennedy heaved the occasional sigh and gave her manacles the
occasional tug, but it didn't help. And Vivienne was no
help, either. Her pencil flew as the sketching
continued... and continued... then continued some more.
Finally, she selected several tubes and dabbed paint on a
well-used palette, blended some colors, and set to work with a
And whenever Kennedy tried to start a conversation. Viv's
response was always the same: "Hush. Languish."
So languish Kennedy did. Her rump on the hard, faux-stone
floor and her back to the hard, faux-stone wall, the naked
ginger languished. At least the irons were comfortable, or
as comfortable as such things could be. Everything was a
good fit and followed the relevant contours of her
anatomy. Nothing pinched or failed to evenly distribute
its weight. Yippee. Hurray for fine
craftsmanship. Also, the room was comfortably
heated. In fact, Kennedy was a tad too warm and was
seriously considering glowing.
Better a little hot than too cold, Kennedy reasoned...
Finally, after more than an hour... considerably more
than an hour... Kennedy decided she'd had enough. "Time
for a break," she announced and hauled her naked and
chain-encumbered self to her bare feet.
"Hey!" Vivienne objected.
"I can't sit like that forever," Kennedy complained. "I'm
taking a break. Besides, what's the point of being a
princess if you can't decide when things happen?"
"But you're captured," Vivienne objected. She was ignored.
Standing, Kennedy's arms and manacled hands were no longer
raised, but loose at her sides. In fact, she now had a few
inches of dangling slack in the manacle chains. There was
also slack in her other chains, so much so that her restraints
were more a humiliating encumbrance than bondage, as long as she
stayed put. If she tried taking more than a step in any
given direction, her chains would be bondage, but
standing as she was, Kennedy could stretch and find some degree
of comfort for her aching muscles, and she did.
"Okay," Vivienne sighed, then put down her brush. "Take
"Show me," Kennedy said.
Viv frowned. "Show you what?"
Kennedy rolled her eyes. "The painting."
"Oh no," Vivienne intoned, shaking her head. "Not
'til it's finished."
Kennedy responded with a wounded pout as she continued
stretching and shuffling in place. Her chains rattled and
shook as she exercised... if you could call it that.
"Okay, back to work," Vivienne said after five minutes.
Princess Kennedy heaved a sigh worthy of her aristocratic
station and dire circumstances, then settled back into
position. "Is my hair okay?" she asked.
"Tousled is tousled," Vivienne answered. She'd already
And all the while Vivienne painted.
Another hour passed... then two.
"Isn't it about time for lunch?" the princess-in-chains
"Huh?" Vivienne was painting.
"Lunch," Kennedy reiterated. "I'm hungry."
Vivienne placed the brush between her teeth and pulled her phone
from her jeans pocket. "Yeah, it is time to
eat. Good call." She wrapped her brushes in a
turpentine-dampened rag, draped a cloth over the canvas, then
stood, stretched, and headed for the open door.
"Hey!" Kennedy objected, tugging on her manacles. "Where
the hell are you going?"
Vivienne rolled her eyes. "The key? Remember?"
"Oh." Kennedy blushed, then shrugged in apology.
"Lena has the key. Sorry."
Vivienne grinned. "Wait here," she said as she left the
"You are such a comedian!" Kennedy called after
her. "You should do standup!"
Kennedy figured it would take several minutes for Vivienne to
make it down to the kitchen and return with the key.
Several minutes passed, more than enough time... then several more
minutes. Slowly, the wait time crept towards half an
hour. Then, finally, she heard footsteps in the hallway.
Kennedy prepared to give Viv a piece of her mind, but it was Lena
who entered the room. She was carrying a wooden bucket
with a rope handle.
"Here's your lunch," Lena said as she planted the bucket at
Kennedy's side. She then pulled the much hoped for key
from under her t-shirt, unlocked Kennedy's right manacle,
turned, and sauntered back towards the door.
"Hey, wait!" Kennedy called after the exiting blonde, but was
ignored. "Lena! This isn't funny!"
Lena paused to pick up Kennedy's neatly stacked clothes, then
continued out the door. "The bucket is also your toilet,
by the way," the blonde chuckled, then was gone.
Kennedy stared at the open door in disbelief. "Lena?
Not funny!" She received no response.
The bucket had a tight-fitting wooden lid, but Kennedy managed
to get it open without much difficulty. Inside she found a
cloth bundle and a plastic bottle of grape juice. She
opened the bundle and found a small loaf of bread, a hunk of
cheese, possibly cheddar, a thick slice of cold ham, and an
"Lunch," Kennedy muttered under her breath. She considered
screaming Vivienne's name at the top of her lungs, but decided
to wait until Viv returned to gloat and continue her painting,
and then scream in her face.
This is not funny, Kennedy silently fumed.
This has crossed the line. No more posing.
No more languishing. No more bondage nonsense.
None. Zip. Nada.
Of course, at the moment all Kennedy could do was
languish. Her stomach growled. That is, all she
could do was languish and eat lunch. It was awkward with
only one free hand, but the captive princess managed.
|The Curious Case...