Mystery Meat Stew, Snow White and Gingerella cowered on the bed
in abject terror and dread that Mistress Lena would reappear at
any moment and drag them back down to the dungeons for more
hideous torture. That is, Kennedy fed Viv her half of the
beef stew (it wasn't venison) and they emptied the pitcher of
beer. It wasn't a huge pitcher, but their stomachs had
been empty and they both were feeling a slight buzz. They
would have ordered another round, but slave-girls don't rate
room service at Castle Vidler, even if one of them is a
After they ate, Kennedy was nice enough to help Vivienne clean
up. Viv refused to take a shower wearing the armbinder,
explaining Lena would make her saddle-soap the leather once she
was free, but she did submit to a sponge bath with a wet and
soapy washcloth in the role of sponge. Kennedy scrubbed
her friend clean. She was careful to thoroughly rinse off
the soap without soaking the armbinder, then toweled Viv dry.
Clean, refreshed, and their stomachs full, the captives returned
to the bedroom and padded to the bed. Kennedy piled the
pillows against the headboard and reclined on her back.
Vivienne also climbed onto the bed and knelt at Kennedy's side,
her eyes downcast.
Kennedy suppressed a smile. "Oh, for cryin' out loud," she
sighed, then patted her right side.
Viv grinned and awkwardly flopped onto her side, then squirmed
her body against Kennedy's unbound and therefore even more naked
form. "Everything will be okay, Ken-doll," Viv sighed as
she rested her head against Kennedy's left breast.
Kennedy's lips curled in a wry smile. I really ought
to be more outraged about all this, she thought. The
flogging she'd received down in the Whipping Chamber had served
its function, in that she'd decided she did not want to
cross Lena and would follow her orders, thereby avoiding future
punishment; however, the revelation that Lena hadn't caused her
anything even approaching actual physical harm had tempered her
reaction. Kennedy was convinced Lena was not an
out of control sadist. She was a thoughtful and
considerate Mistress. What that meant would take a little
Was their "slavery" real? Apparently. Was Kennedy
terrified? No... and she added that to her list of things
to think about. She didn't intend to spend the rest of her
life as a slave-girl, even with Viv as her fellow
slave-girl. And she didn't want to trade years of freedom
for Auntie Rene bankrolling an antiquities shop in the city of
her choice. But...
I ought to be thinking about bringing Lena to justice,
she thought, but I'm not. When I escape—and she
didn't doubt for a moment that eventually she'd escape—I
won't go to the sheriff, unless that's the only way to resolve
all this. In any case, I won't demand Mistress Lena's
arrest. Go figure.
Yes, Kennedy was confused and conflicted.
Vivienne was not.
Kennedy realized Vivienne was squirming against her side, and it
was more than snuggling for comfort. "Viv... what the hell
are you doing?" Kennedy wasn't referring to the leg
Vivienne had thrown over her body, or the way Viv was flicking
her tongue against her left nipple, but was inquiring as to her
fellow slave-girl's intentions. Okay, Viv's intentions
were pretty obvious, but Kennedy felt she had to ask.
"I feel terrible that Mistress flogged you," Vivienne
sighed, then licked Kennedy's nipple, again. "I want to
make you feel better."
Kennedy smiled. "Oh. I don't suppose I could talk
you into letting me take a nap, first."
"You don't need a nap," Vivienne gently took Kennedy's
nipple between her teeth and gave it a tug, then suckled in
"Whoa-whoa-whoa!" Kennedy objected (and giggled), then forcibly
pushed Vivienne away.
"Oh, please," Viv pouted. "Let me make you feel better."
"I need a nap," Kennedy muttered (and suppressed her
smile). "Be good, or I'll pop the ball-gag in your mouth
and hogtie you on the floor. We'll do this later."
Vivienne gazed at Kennedy, batting her big blue eyes for maximum
"I promise I will hogtie you if you don't control
yourself." She rearranged the pillows so they could both
be comfortable, then put an arm around Viv's shoulders and gave
her a hug and a kiss on the top of her head. "Be good,"
she admonished, then closed her eyes.
Vivienne rested her head against Kennedy's breast and
sighed. This is going to work, she thought.
I knew it would.
I'm going to escape, Kennedy thought. It may
take a while, but I will escape.
|The Curious Case...
her nap and kept her promise... several times. The
slave-girls made love and both enjoyed numerous orgasms.
How many? That's not as simple a question as one might
think. As the evening progressed, both got very, very
tired and very, very sleepy, even as they licked and
sucked on various body parts not their own and Kennedy
finger-fiddled Viv's naughty-bits. Viv would have done
some fiddling of her own, but that was vetoed by the
armbinder. She tried using her toes, which would have been
a personal first, but Kennedy would have none of it. She
told Viv to keep her toes to herself and use her tongue like a
Anyway, eventually the orgy fizzled out. Can two
slave-girls making whoopee be considered an orgy? Kennedy
was too tired to care. They fell asleep in each others
arms... or snuggled together with Viv in Ken-doll's arms, to be
Morning arrived in the form of Lena unlocking the bedroom door,
dropping a pair of fresh towels on the floor next to the
bathroom, then sauntering to the bed. She leaned close,
unlocked and removed the padlocks securing Vivienne's armbinder,
then left without a word.
Kennedy had snapped awake while the bedroom door was being
unlocked, but she kept her eyes closed and feigned sleep, not
wanting to provoke "Mistress" into locking her in chains, tying
her up with 100 feet of rope, or doing something else she
Vivienne either followed the same strategy, or actually had
slept through Lena's towel delivery and the removal of the
padlocks. She did wake up after Lena's departure
when Kennedy completed the process of freeing her from the
armbinder. "Oh, thank you, Ken-doll," she sighed
as she sat up in bed and stretched her arms.
"You're welcome," Kennedy yawned.
"C'mon, let's take a shower," Vivienne said as she took
Kennedy's hand and dragged her from the bed and towards the
"What's your damn hurry?" Kennedy demanded, but didn't resist.
"We don't want to be late for breakfast," Vivienne
explained. "You know how Mistress likes the trains to run
"Wouldn't want to get off on the wrong foot on my first day as a
simpering slave-girl," Kennedy muttered.
Vivienne giggled as they entered the bathroom.
|The Curious Case...
into a new routine at Castle Vidler. Actually, the new
routine was almost identical to the old, but with notable
exceptions. Meals and morning and afternoon exercise
sessions went according to a strict schedule with Lena doing all
the cooking and deciding who was going to exercise in what
way. That wasn't a change, nor was Lena's reluctance to
engage in small talk. As for the changes...
Lena's decree that Snow White and Gingerella's "clothing
privileges" had been revoked hadn't been a joke. Vivienne
and Kennedy went about their daily routines totally naked, and
Lena held regular inspections to insure the "slave-girls" were
keeping themselves clean, their armpits and legs shaved, their
finger and toenails manicured and pedicured, respectively, and
their pubic hair neatly trimmed.
It was all very humiliating and... interesting. That is,
Kennedy found using the personal tools and supplies in the
bathroom of Viv's bedroom to groom each other to be
That was another change: Kennedy now shared Viv's bedroom.
The guest bedroom she'd used before was now clean and
unoccupied. As for Kennedy's luggage, clothing, and
personal items, she had no idea where they were hidden.
They might be in Vivienne's walk-in closet, but that was locked
and Lena had decreed that it would remain locked for the
duration of the clothing drought.
As for the inventory, the supposed reason Kennedy was in the
Castle, that continued at a leisurely pace. A small
storeroom on the third floor was converted into Kennedy's new
"office," in that a work table and wooden chair were moved in
and her laptop and notebooks relocated. Kennedy noted that
her electronics hadn't been tampered with, as far as she could
tell, and her WiFi connection to the Castle server was as
strong; however, she could no longer connect to the internet,
nor could she send and receive e-mail. As for her iPhone,
it was either keeping her luggage company or was locked in
Lena's office. Kennedy made do with the scheduling and
alarm clock software on her tablet to show up for meals and
exercise on time.
Exercise periods now included more explicit bondage. The
"safety restraints" on the universal exercise machine had always
been explicit, but now Lena deployed and used locking leather
cuffs to chain the slave-girls to whatever machine she decreed
they would use on any given day. Kennedy experienced life
as a galley slave on the rowing machine, restrained pedaling on
the stationary bike, chained running on the treadmill (which was
awkward and noisy), and rope-enhanced yoga.
That last "exercise" was a thinly veiled excuse for Lena to bind
and gag one of the girls on the exercise mat in the middle of
the gym while the other worked out, and the blond amazon didn't
show favoritism. One time it would be Vivienne lashed into
some contorted pose for an hour or so, and the next time it
would be Kennedy's turn.
As for swimming in the lake, that also continued, but Lena also
introduced what she called "freckle farming." Once or
twice a week she used thin cord to spread-eagle Kennedy between
four stakes hammered into the slope between the Castle and the
pier. Vivienne was assigned the task of rubbing tanning
lotion all over Kennedy's helpless body, which she accomplished
with due diligence, tragic sighs, and poorly concealed
delight. Then, Mistress and Snow White would depart and
take their swim. Sometimes face up, sometimes face down,
Kennedy would bask in the sun while Lena and Viv splashed in the
lake. Inevitably, Gingerella's freckle collection
blossomed and her tan-lines faded and disappeared.
Kennedy's tits and tushie gradually became just as dappled as
her face and shoulders.
At night, Lena locked the girls in Vivienne's bedroom, and one
of them was always restrained in some way, using either steel or
padlocked leather. That is, one slave-girl was always
dependent on the other, to the degree dictated by the stringency
of her bonds. Sometimes it was as simple as wrists being
cuffed behind the back or ankles being hobbled by fetters with a
connecting chain, but now and then Lena decided the designated
damsel deserved punishment.
Kennedy spent one night strapped in a full-body harness with
horizontal and lateral straps dimpling her flesh from shoulders
to toes, with her hands trapped in leather mitts at her
sides. All of the many buckles were padlocked, except for
the pussy-cleaving crotch-strap, and Lena warned Viv that it was
to be unbuckled only for sanitary purposes. Viv
decided to either stretch that rule to the limit or flaunt it
completely, depending on your point of view. Helping
Ken-doll use the bathroom was obviously allowed, but in the
morning, when Lena discovered the slave-girls in bed and
Gingerella's crotch strap not buckled, Snow White's
argument that she had to massage her fellow slave's pussy during
the night "for sanitary reasons" fell on deaf ears. Viv
spent the day locked in slave-chains.
Another night, Vivienne was locked in close, stringent steel
chains and cuffs. Her ankles were shackled inches apart,
her wrists fettered behind her back, a collar around her throat,
and everything connected by a tight, taut web of thin
chains. And the ensemble included both a steel chastity
belt and a steel bra. The belt's crotch panel had
a sawtooth-lined slot and a round opening that allowed the
pitiful, pouting prisoner to relieve herself, and also allowed
Kennedy to clean her up afterwards, but the love-making that
night was decidedly one sided, to say the least. That
said, Viv threw herself into the task of helping Ken-doll relax
from a hard day of counting chairs, exercising, and growing
Kennedy was careful to maintain an aura of resentment. But
gradually, as days turned into weeks, she dialed back her anger
and overt dislike of "Mistress." She was sure Lena liked
her Feisty Redhead persona (which was far from an affectation),
so she didn't become too nice. Rather than
seething anger, she settled into a show of enmity and grudging
obedience, with a side of subdued amusement at Lena's infrequent
attempts at humor. She was shooting for bitter-sweet,
rather than sour, and thought she was succeeding.
Also, Vivienne finished her painting, and it only cost Kennedy
two additional work days. She languished in the same
chains in the same pose in the same Empty Room while Viv
painted. They decided to call the masterpiece Gingerella
in Chains, and when she was finally allowed to see the
finished canvas, Kennedy had to admit it was something
of a masterpiece. Apparently, the sight of Ken-doll naked
and chained to a stone wall brought out the best of Vivienne's
On the escape front, Kennedy made slow progress. In the
course of her inventory duties she went back over various
invoices, shipping documents, plans, and blueprints in the
Castle archives, but this time with an eye towards
geography. Slowly, she pieced together a better idea of
the area surrounding Castle Vidler. Lake Superior was to
the north, no more than a few miles, and the town of Beacon Hill
was farther up the shoreline. So, all she had to do was
get out of the Castle itself, hike north until she either ran
into Lake Superior or a road leading north, then make her way to
Beacon Hill. Exactly how far she'd have to hike wasn't
crystal clear. Her best guess was... twenty miles to
town? She really couldn't be sure. There were no
actual maps in the archives.
Kennedy's next obstacle would be clothes, and especially
shoes. She couldn't hike miles through the woods in her
bare feet. She casually noticed that two pair of shoes
were kept in a neat row next to a side door near the
kitchen. They were the barefoot kind, moccasins with
separate toes and no arch support. She remembered Lena or
Viv mentioning hiking forest trails, a privilege not yet granted
Gingerella, and these were exactly the sort of footwear they
would wear. One pair was too large, obviously Lena's, but
the other pair, probably Viv's, looked like they'd fit.
On the clothing front, the only thing she found she had access
to was conveniently hanging from a hook above the shoes in the
form of a hooded rain-jacket. It was in Lena's size and
was woodland camouflage, a mottled mass of browns and greens,
mostly browns. It was a civilian hunting pattern, not
military issue. Kennedy realized she'd look ridiculous in
the thing. The bottom hem would probably reach her knees
and she'd have to roll up the cuffs of the sleeves a couple of
times, but it would be better than nothing. Her only other
option was a towel wrapped around her torso. Also, the
camouflage might help her hide if she ran into trouble during
her trek north.
That left the question of when to go, and as the days passed,
Kennedy decided all she could do was wait, hope, and act when an
opportunity presented itself, but she couldn't wait too
long. Winter was months away, but she knew she should make
her escape while the weather was good, especially as slippers
and a rain-jacket were the only available clothing. In any
case, she certainly didn't want to wait until spring.
|The Curious Case...
fortune smiled. Either that or Kennedy finally worked up
the courage to try her luck.
One bright, sunny morning, after a hearty breakfast, Lena set to
work cleaning the kitchen. But first she ordered Vivienne
to gather the towels from the bathrooms and the dirty clothes in
Mistress' hamper and take everything down to the laundry in the
basement. And while all that was getting clean, she was to
change the beds and take the dirty sheets down, as well.
Kennedy didn't bother offering to help. Lena had already
decreed that Snow White had her regular chores, Gingerella had
her inventory work, and that was that. It turned out being
a Captured Princess at Vidler Castle had a lot in common with
being a maid. Go figure.
Anyway, Kennedy made a show of departing for her office to get
her tablet, waited until Viv started her assignment, then
tiptoed back down to the designated escape portal. The LED
on the door's cypher-lock was glowing green—check! She
slipped on Viv's "Hobbit Slippers" and confirmed that they did
fit—check! Next, she eased the rain-jacket off its hook
and carefully folded it across her arm—check! Finally, she
slowly, silently turned the doorknob, eased open the door,
stepped through, and carefully closed the door behind her.
She was out of the Castle!
Kennedy shrugged into the jacket as she sprinted for the
trees. She was careful to choose a path that wouldn't take
her past the kitchen windows. She didn't want to begin her
escape with a footrace with Lena. She knew she'd lose such
a race unless she had a generous head start, and Kennedy
intended to have a head start of miles before Mistress
discovered that Gingerella wasn't in the Castle, which should be
soon after she failed to report for the morning exercise
session. She set a quick pace for herself for the next
The rain-jacket was something like two sizes too large, and she
had to roll up the cuffs and the hem came down to her knees, as
she'd feared. Also, it was too hot. The fabric was
breathable Gortex, but there are limits to such things.
Soon, the jacket's satiny lining was clammy against her sweating
One hour became two and she discovered a serious flaw in her
plan. Kennedy McKidd was not an experienced
outdoors-person. She hadn't even been a Girl Scout.
She tried navigating by the position of the sun, but the dappled
forest shade and the sun's progress across the morning sky made
it difficult. That said, she thought she was probably
heading at least generally north, as planned.
In a second and possibly more serious flaw, Kennedy realized
she'd neglected to bring a bottle of water. They'd been
available in the kitchen refrigerator, and she could have tried
to sneak one out. As the second hour of hiking became the
third, she began to regret not having taken the risk. By
the time she reached the lake shore or the road, she was going
to be one thirsty little fugitive. Maybe she'd stumble
across a stream at some point. She could only hope.
Kennedy did her best to disguise her trail. That is, she
tried not to break branches or bend grass blades. Truth be
told, she had no idea whether or not her efforts at stealthiness
were succeeding. All she could do was carefully plant one
foot in front of the other and do her best.
And speaking of feet, Kennedy was forming the opinion that
"Hobbit Slippers" suck as footwear. Her arches had
started complaining after the first hour, and she'd trod on more
than a few sharp sticks or rocks, no matter how carefully she
tried to avoid them.
That said, aside from the heat and her growing thirst and the
fact that an angry Lena might be on her trail, the woods were
really quite pleasant. There was mostly shade under the
trees, of course, but she could still see blue sky now and
then. The leaves were green and rustled at the tops of the
canopies, but unfortunately the wind didn't make it to ground
level. Also, there was a pleasing, woodsy odor in the
air. Kennedy didn't know exactly what to call it, other
than woodsy, and the simple-mindedness of describing the woods
as "woodsy" wasn't lost on her. She was getting tired...
and thirsty. Anyway, Vivienne was the writer. Let
her come up with a better adjective.
Kennedy was a little surprised not to see a lot of birds, or
hear more than a few bird calls. She heard some twitters
and trills, but mostly in front of her. She did see some
insects, but not birds. Grasshoppers fled from her path,
or in the case of butterflies, flitted about and ignored her
completely. She couldn't hear any birds... but was that a
Kennedy sprinted forward and came to a grassy meadow, and
crossing the meadow was a two lane highway! A silver sedan
was just disappearing around a gentle bend in the road,
something like fifty yards distant. Kennedy didn't bother
running after the car. It was already gone. She left
the treeline and stepped out onto the tall grass. More
butterflies and a few bees were fluttering and buzzing around
and there were wildflowers everywhere. It was all very
pretty, but she didn't pause to admire the view. She had
to get to the road before she missed her next potential ride.
Kennedy continued across the meadow and was soon about halfway
to her goal. She took one more step, heard a whistling
sound, and—a lasso settled over her head, tightened around her
upper-arms, and jerked her off her feet! "Ahhh!"
Before Kennedy could struggle to her feet, a figure was upon
her, a blur of browns and greens. Then, more rope
tightened around her arms! "Hey, stop!" The
rain-jacket's hood had flapped up when she fell and was getting
in the way of her vision, preventing her from getting a good
look at her captor. "Lena? Stop!"
Kennedy's captor tugged on the drawstrings of the hood and it
tightened until Kennedy's vision was limited to an area roughly
the size of her open hand. "Will you please stop!"
Now, rope was tightening around her her wrists, lashing them
together behind her back. Her unknown captor was tying her
up. "Lena, I just want to go into town and, uh, look
A cloth had been stuffed into Kennedy's mouth.
"Nrrrrf!" And now a narrowly folded cloth was being tied
between her teeth as a cleave-gag and knotted behind the
rain-jacket's hood. This not only silenced her voice, or
at least muffled it considerably, but stabilized the hood.
It now severely limiting her peripheral vision, like a pair of
blinders. All she could see was a small zone straight
Next, a hand tightened across her already gagged mouth and an
arm held her close. Kennedy kicked and squirmed, but to no
avail. At the same time, she heard a whining sound—no, a
truck engine! "M'mmmf." The vision of a large truck
with "Pat's Foods" emblazoned on the side roared across her
limited vision. Then, the roar faded, became an
ever-diminishing whine, and was gone.
"The driver did not see us," an alto, female voice
intoned. It was a voice Kennedy had never heard before.
"Mrrk?" Whoever her new captor was, she lifted Kennedy
onto her shoulder and carried her back into the woods. Again?
Kennedy sighed through her gag. Again with the being
carried around like a sack of potatoes? All Kennedy
could see through the opening in the rain-jacket hood was a few
ginger, tousled curls of her own hair and more camouflage
cloth. Her captor—who was not Lena—was dressed for hunting,
and it would seem that Kennedy McKidd was her prey.
|The Curious Case...
they were under the shade of the trees Kennedy heard another car
pass on the road behind then. "Mrrrr." She'd been so
close to freedom... maybe. "Mrrrk!" This time there
was anger in her gagged complaint, and she started kicking her
"Settle down," Kennedy's captor chuckled, and slapped her
rump. The rain-jacket had ridden up enough that the
stinging blow landed on bare, freckled skin. Kennedy
stopped kicking, but she was still angry.
Several yards from the meadow, Kennedy's captor heaved her off
her shoulder and down onto the ground. They were in the
middle of a large stand of mature trees. There was little
undergrowth but a lot of bare soil and decomposing leaf litter.
Kennedy's captor untied her cleave gag and lowered the
rain-jacket's hood, but kept one hand clamped across Kennedy's
mouth during the process. Then, she retied the
cleave-gag—"M'mmmf!"—at the nape of Kennedy's neck and under her
ginger curls, tight enough to make her freckled cheeks
bulge. Her hair was still a tousled mass with a lot of it
falling across her face, so she still couldn't see much.
She struggled as the ropes lashing her arms to her sides were
untied, and continued struggling as her captor pulled the
rain-jacket off her shoulders until it was bunched more or less
at the level of her waist, but her captor managed to keep her
under control. She then began tying Kennedy up, again, and
this time the ropes were tightening around her bare flesh!
Kennedy squirmed and kicked, tossing her head in a vain attempt
to shake the hair from her face, but she was on her stomach on
the forest floor with her captor more-or-less sitting on
her. She still couldn't see much of anything and her
struggles remained ineffective.
The ropes tightened into a torso harness. Then, her wrists
were untied, the jacket pulled free, and her wrists crossed and
lashed against her spine, just below her shoulder blades.
More rope tightened, pinning her upper-arms against her body,
passing above and below her breasts, yoking her shoulders, and
further pinning her lower-arms and wrists. It was a
binding worthy of Lena at her best (meaning her worst, from Snow
White's or Gingerella's points of view), but Kennedy knew her
captor wasn't Lena.
Once the rope expert in question climbed off her body, Kennedy
rolled onto her backside and bound arms and finally succeeded in
shaking the hair from her gagged face. Her captor was the
groundskeeper, Skylar Smoke! I forgot about her,
Kennedy realized. I'm an idiot. Truth be
told, Kennedy had been on the lookout for pursuit ever since she
left the Castle and didn't know what she would have done
differently if both Skylar and Lena had been on her on her list
of possible pursuers, but she still felt bad for getting caught.
The tall (relative to Kennedy) Native American beauty was,
indeed, dressed in camouflage. Her footwear were unadorned
moccasins, but her trousers and tank-top were commercial
camouflage, similar to the rain-jacket Kennedy had "borrowed"
Kennedy watched as Skylar shrugged a second coil of rope off her
shoulder, pulled Kennedy's feet together and crossed her ankles,
then began lashing them together. The now naked captive
didn't bother trying to kick or otherwise impede Skylar's
process, but she lodged a strong protest. "Nrrrm!"
She did try and squirm away when Skylar looped the rope
behind her head, pulled out the slack until she was forced into
a full crunch, then hitched the rope through her crossed and
bound ankles and tied a knot. There was still a
substantial length to the remaining rope, but not for
long. Skylar tossed the free end over a tree branch,
pulled out most of the slack, then tied a final knot something
like five feet off the ground.
Kennedy was now naked, gagged, box-tied, and bound in a crunch
on the forest floor. She'd been sweaty under the jacket
before it was removed, and now, after struggling and rolling on
the ground, she was soiled with dirt and detritus over most of
her body. She squirmed and fought her bonds, to no
avail. As already noted, Skylar knew her way around a coil
of rope. Kennedy glared at her captor, or tried to,
anyway. Anger and fear were at war in her mind. If
Lena had been her captor, Kennedy knew she could be properly
infuriated and outraged, but she didn't know how Skylar would
react. She didn't know Skylar Smoke.
What happened next was unexpected. Skylar picked up Lena's
rain-jacket, rolled it into a neat, tight bundle, stowed it in
its own hood, and tucked the bundle under her right arm.
Then, after a lingering, somewhat sinister smile, turned and
"Nrrrk?" Kennedy blinked in surprise as her new captor
abandoned her in the woods. In something like a dozen
graceful, gliding steps... Skylar was gone. The camouflage
helped, of course, but it was almost as if the forest had
swallowed her up. Kennedy wiggled and squirmed and groped
for the unreachable knots, but knew herself to be completely
Unless and until Skylar returned, Kennedy would remain exactly
where she was, in the middle of the woods, in the middle of
nowhere, bound, gagged, and helpless.
|The Curious Case...