Kennedy to the kitchen, then untied the neck rope and tossed it
on a side counter. She then sat her wayward prisoner in a
chair and removed her Hobbit Slippers.
Kennedy had seen no sign of Vivienne, either in the Down Under
rooms they'd passed through or now, in the kitchen. She
sat in the chair and tried not to think about the Whipping
Chamber two levels below, with its many whips, crops, canes,
paddles, and floggers. Then, her eyes popped wide as Lena
returned from a cabinet with a ball-gag and a hood of black
cloth. The gag's mouth-plugging sphere was black, hollow,
and pierced by numerous breathing holes and the hood had a
drawstring. Kennedy had worn both before, either the very
same gag and hood or their twins.
"If you know what's good for you..." Lena sighed and shook
her head before continuing. "Strike that. Obviously
you don't know what's good for you." She untied
Kennedy's cleave-gag and plucked the wadded cloth from her
"Lena!" Kennedy croaked. Her mouth was dry. "I mean
Mistress, I—m'mmpfh." The ball-gag was in her mouth
and was being buckled under her hair at the nape of her
neck. Then—"Urrrk!"—the hood slipped over her head and the
drawstring tightened around her neck. Gagged (or
re-gagged) and blind as the proverbial bat thanks to the hood,
Kennedy squirmed in her chair and tugged on her bonds.
Then—"Mrrrf?"—Kennedy was heaved onto Lena's shoulder in yet another
fireman's carry and carried away. Kennedy didn't kick or
squirm. There was no point and she was already in the dog
house, so to speak. She also didn't bother trying to keep
track of where Lena was taking her. She did note that it
was generally down, and that two sets of stairs were involved,
but she didn't try matching Lena's steps to her mental floor
plan of Castle Vidler. That would also be pointless.
Mistress was in charge and they were going wherever she wanted.
There was a pause while Lena unlocked and opened a door, then
carried Kennedy across the threshold and deposited her on a
cool, hard surface. The captive surmised she was on a
table of some sort, possibly made of metal, and Lena was locking
some sort of metal clamp around her right ankle. It was
wide, thick, heavy, and solidly fixed to the table. Her
left ankle was seized, pulled about two feet to the side, and
locked in a second clamp.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Gingerella," Lena sighed as she
lifted Kennedy to a sitting position and began untying her rope
Kennedy was surprised to feel pangs of guilt. The rope
slithered against her skin and slapped the table as her bonds
loosened their hold and melted away. Wait a minute,
she thought. What the hell have I got to feel guilty
about? Every damsel in distress has the right to escape!
"Mrrrf!" Kennedy growled, then gasped through her gag and
hood—"Urrk!"—as Lena forced her back down on the table, pulled
her right arm above her head, and locked her wrist in another
clamp. Her left wrist followed, and now Kennedy was
spreadeagled on her back. A few feet of rope were still
looped and hitched around her torso, but not for long.
Lena's hands tugged and pulled and the remaining rope slithered
There was a pause. Kennedy tugged on her wrist and ankle
bonds. Her hands and feet were each about two feet apart,
and the clamps or fetters or whatever-the-hell the things might
be called were close-fitting, smooth, well-rounded at the edges,
and very solidly fixed to the table, almost as if they
were parts of the table rather than attachments.
Then, Kennedy heard a clicking sound. At the same
time—"Mrrk?—the ankle and wrist cuffs began slowly creeping
apart, stretching Kennedy's spreadeagled body even
further! Fortunately, this only happened for a few
seconds, but it was long enough to make Kennedy very glad the
clamps were close-fitting, smooth, well-rounded, and
perfectly matched the anatomy they imprisoned. She could
tell her tummy was taut and her breasts flattened. She
could feel it. It wasn't like she was stretched on a
torture rack, but—
Kennedy's blood ran cold. Maybe she was on a
torture rack! Maybe Lena was going to continue turning the
wheel or spinning the dial or doing whatever-the-hell she was
doing that made the clamps move apart until...
"Nrrrrr!" It was a wail of despair, mitigated by Kennedy's
ball-gag and hood.
And then, the hood's drawstring loosened and the hood was jerked
from Kennedy's head.
Kennedy blinked in the sudden light and looked around. It
was another stone chamber, probably another sub-basement dungeon
of the original Castle. A stainless steel cabinet and a
deep sink were against one wall, and above the sink was a rubber
hose with an attached spray nozzle suspended from a stainless
steel cable wound around a spring-loaded drum attached to the
ceiling, similar to the dish-washing setups sometimes found in
Kennedy focused on her wrist bonds. The clamps were
stainless-steel, as was the table. She could see narrow,
vertical slots in the table, running under the clamps, and she
surmised there was some mechanism underneath that allowed their
positions to be adjusted. Okay, Kennedy realized,
obviously there was a mechanism under the table.
Lena had already made adjustments.
Meanwhile, Lena had turned on the faucet at the sink and water
was streaming from the spray-nozzle. She flicked a lever
on the side of the nozzle and the water stopped.
Kennedy's eyes widened, again. Lena was stepping towards
the table, bringing the hose and nozzle with her. The
cable whined as it played out. "Nrrrf!" Kennedy
shook her head, but could do nothing to stop Mistress from
triggering the nozzle. Kennedy wiggled and squirmed, to
the extent allowed by her bonds, and mewled in distress.
Cold water stung her skin as Lena played the stream up
and down her stretched body! "M'mmmpfh!"
The stream stopped and Kennedy lifted her dripping head, blinked
the water from her eyes and watched Lena return to the sink,
lift a steel bucket from the floor, place it under the faucet,
and fill it with water. She then went to the steel cabinet
and returned to the sink with a large brush with a two-foot
handle and a plastic bottle. She popped the cap on the
bottle and squirted a generous dollop of some sort of thick
fluid into the bucket, then used the brush to give it a
stir. She then returned the bottle to the cabinet and
carried the sloshing bucket to the table.
Kennedy detected a slightly floral aroma, then shrieked through
her gag, again—"Mrrrf!—as Lena used the soapy brush to scrub her
wet, wiggling body. The sudsy water was cold, but the
bubbles didn't sting her eyes and the bristles were soft.
The brush was the sort of thing you'd use on your car, to scrub
off the road dirt without scratching the paint. Kennedy
shivered and stared daggers at Lena as the bristles caressed
every square inch of her stretched, helpless body not in direct
contact with the table. She closed her eyes when Lena
scrubbed her face, of course, but glowered at Mistress when the
brush was elsewhere. The pleasantly scented soap was
"tear-free," but tasted yucky. Kennedy's gag didn't allow
her to close her mouth and keep the suds out.
Lena returned the bucket and brush to the sink, pulled over the
nozzle and hose, again, and began rinsing the suds from
Kennedy's helpless body.
"Mrrrpfh!" Kennedy shivered and squirmed as the cold water
played across her skin, splashing her crotch, armpits, gagged
face, and hair. Lena walked completely around the table,
directing the stream to where Kennedy's spreadeagled body met
the table and evicting the last of the suds.
Kennedy assumed there was a drain in the floor. She just
wished there was a flash-heater for the water line, but there
wasn't. She continued shivering as Lena returned the
nozzle and hose to the sink, turned off the faucet, and purged
the water from the hose. She then locked eyes with
Mistress as Lena returned to the foot of the table, smiling her
"Look at all those pretty goosebumps," Lena purred, then focused
on Kennedy's feet. "Hmm... Not as clean as they
should be. I need to fetch a specialized tool." She
then turned and strolled to the door.
Kennedy stared at Lena's disappearing back, then the closing
door, and was alone... cold, wet, shivering, and alone.
|The Curious Case...
by and became a minute... then minutes, plural.
The goosebumps faded and Kennedy stopped shivering. The
air in the... Bathing Chamber? Kennedy decided to
go with "Bathing Chamber." Anyway, the air was humid and
hot. Spreadeagled on the table, she was in an excellent
position to survey the many small spotlights of the track
lighting system mounted to the ceiling, and among them were heat
lamps glowing with an amber-orange light. At least, she
assumed they were heat lamps.
So... I won't freeze to death, she thought, sighing
through her gag. Another minute passed. I just
hope I don't broil.
Finally, Lena returned, and she wasn't alone. Balanced on
her right shoulder, stomach down, was a figure completely
covered in black leather. It was the same way Kennedy had
entered the chamber, but without the leather, of course.
Vivienne—Kennedy assumed it was Vivienne—was trapped in a
skintight leather sheath that encased her body from neck to
toe. Legs together and arms at her sides, the sheath alone
looked like it was inescapable, but its grip was reinforced by
broad leather straps encircling Viv's form at the ankles, above
and below her knees, her thighs, her waist and lower arms, her
upper arms and torso above and below her breasts, and around her
neck. Lena slid the figure off her shoulder and turned her
around—confirming that it was Vivienne in the process—and
positioned her at the foot of the table.
Vivienne's mouth was propped open by a ring-gag, a steel torus
with a leather strap that buckled at the nape of her neck.
She locked eyes with Kennedy and the prisoners heaved
simultaneous sighs of mutual commiseration and despair.
Meanwhile Lena had carried a folding stool to the table and
placed it behind Vivienne, then "encouraged" the leather-clad
captive to take a seat. She then lifted Vivienne and the
stool and slid both forward until Vivienne's ring-gagged mouth
was inches from Kennedy's imprisoned feet.
Kennedy continued staring at Viv's sad, blue eyes. The
suit's collar was wide and thick, more a posture collar than a
strap. What Kennedy could now see of the rest of the suit
was, indeed, skintight, tight enough that she assumed the
"garment" was custom made. There were no folds or creases
in the leather. The straps ran through small loops sewn
into the sheath, and tiny padlocks dangled from the tongues of
the visible buckles.
"I want those cute little freckled toes squeaky clean, Snow
White," Lena said, "and the same goes for Gingerella's
soles. Get busy, or I'll put you back in your sarcophagus
and spend the rest of the day introducing Gingerella to the
wonderful world of shock-wands and Wartenberg wheels."
Kennedy had no idea what a "Wartenberg wheel" might be, but she
was sure it wasn't something nice. In any case, she knew
what was coming. A shiver of dread rippled through her
pinioned body and she involuntarily wiggled her toes. The
clamps didn't allow her feet much in the way of motion.
Viv heaved another sigh, then leaned close to Kennedy's right
foot, stuck her tongue through the ring, and began licking the
spreadeagled captive's toes!
"Mrrrpfh!" Kennedy squirmed and tugged on her steel
bonds. She could do nothing to escape Vivienne's wiggling
"Enthusiasm," Lena purred, and Vivienne redoubled her efforts,
bobbing her head as she slathered Kennedy's toes and slid them
them in and out of her ring-gagged mouth.
It tickles! Kennedy giggled through her gag and
continued trying to squirm. It's gross!
"That's it," Lena chuckled. "Just like that, Snow
White." She strolled to the side of the table, reached out
with her right hand, and took Kennedy's right nipple between her
thumb and forefinger. The breast was significantly
flattened by her stretched condition, but both of Kennedy's
nipples were erect and pointing. "Have you ever worn
nipple-clamps, Gingerella?" Lena inquired.
Kennedy's only answer was to continue squirming and giggling
through her gag.
Vivienne continued licking, slobbering, and sucking on Kennedy's
toes, with the mandated enthusiasm.
"I'll take that as a no," Lena purred, then gave Kennedy's
nipple a gentle tug. "There are many shocking gaps in your
education, Gingerella," she said, smiling her evil smile.
"That may be why you're such a bad slave-girl." She
shifted her gaze to Vivienne. "Keep that up for a while,
then start licking the sole. This is going to require at
least two complete tongue-baths for each foot. If you're
diligent, it should take no longer than an hour, perhaps an hour
and a half."
"Nrrrrr!" Kennedy shivered and tugged on her rigid
bonds. It tickles!
Lena tugged on Kennedy's nipple, again. "And then, we'll
see about finding you some nice clamps to play with,
|The Curious Case...
Slobbering Ordeal actually took a little less than a full hour,
but for Kennedy, it was a very long almost hour.
The initial tongue-lashing on each foot had tickled, but the
titillating sensations were low key and were overtaken by the
disgust factor. Eventually, Kennedy even found the
strength to stop wiggling and tugging on her bonds. She
lay still and stared a few daggers at Mistress, but despite her
best efforts couldn't suppress the occasional shivers that
rippled through her body now and then. As for poor
Vivienne, Kennedy was surprised her tongue didn't cramp at some
point. The leather encased captive's licking tool had
to be tired, of that Kennedy was sure.
Finally, Lena announced her satisfaction with the saliva
glistening state of Kennedy's feet, lifted Vivienne onto her
shoulder, and carried her from the chamber.
Kennedy watched the door close, then heaved a sigh. The
heat lamps were still shining down from overhead, interspersed
with the many regular spotlights illuminating her stretched
body, and her entire form was now shining with a patina of
sweat. Part of that may have been a consequence of her
earlier wiggling and squirming, but most of it was in reaction
to the lamps.
A few minutes passed, then Lena returned. Kennedy watched
her stroll to the steel cabinet, open the doors, then carry some
sort of stainless steel apparatus to the table. It was a
pair of rods in the shape of a "T" with a snap-hook at each of
the three ends and a swivel-joint where the rods met.
Still not saying a word, Lena redeployed the step stool near the
head of the table, stood on the stool, inverted the apparatus,
and snapped the now topmost clip through a ring set in the
ceiling. It was now an upside down "T" dangling about
three feet above Kennedy's gagged face. Lena then stepped
to the cabinet and returned with a cylindrical, stainless steel
weight about six inches long and two in diameter, and a plastic
bag full of some sort of blue-green liquid with a length of
thin, clear, vinyl tubing attached. The bag looked
medical, the kind used to deliver fluid to a patient with an
IV. This was confirmed by a small, clear plastic cylinder
and a pinch-clamp where the bag met the tubing.
Kennedy watched as Lena reached up and hung the weight from one
end of the upside down "T" and the inverted bag from the
other. Yep, Kennedy thought, it's an IV bag.
plastic clip of some sort was at the far end of the tubing, but
Kennedy never got a good look at it as Lena slid part of the
second clip through one of the openings in her ball-gag,
released the clip, and somehow the thing gripped the ball.
Kennedy surmised it had anchored itself through a couple of the
ball's other holes. Anyway, the result was a direct link
between the IV bag to the ball-gag, via the clear vinyl tubing.
Lena gave the horizontal section of the "T" a tap with one
finger, and Kennedy watched as the IV and weight alternately
swung up and down, like a playground teeter-totter.
"Perfect balance," Lena purred, the first words she'd spoken
since her return to the chamber. She then reached into her
hip pocket and dangled something metallic and shiny before
Kennedy for inspection.
Kennedy's eyes popped wide in horror. Attached to either
end of a thin steel chain was a pair of small clamps!
"I believe you were asking about nipple-clamps?" Lena purred.
"Nrrr! Nu-uh!" Kennedy frantically shook her
head. How can I have asked about anything? I'm gagged!
"These are very clever," Lena said, gazing at the gleaming steel
devices, "a variety of what are called 'Clover Clamps,' only
unusually lightweight. As you can see, the pads that grip
the nipples themselves are semi-circular and rough in texture,
and the clamping mechanisms are spring-loaded. Place
tension on the connecting chain, and they tighten."
"Mrrrpfh!" Kennedy wasn't protesting, complaining, or
expressing her displeasure. She was begging.
Lena leaned close and began massaging Kennedy's right
nipple. "Now, now," she purred, "you brought this on
"Eeeeeeeh!" Kennedy's body went totally rigid and she
squeezed her eyes tightly closed as a clamp tightened around her
right nipple. It hurts—it hurts—it hurts!
She whined through her gag, again, then went rigid, again, as
the second clamp captured her left nipple. "Eeeeeeh!"
"What a drama queen," Lena chuckled, then clipped a light chain
through a ring in the center of the chain connecting the
nipple-clamps, lifted the free end up to the apparatus overhead,
and clipped it to the cross-arm near the IV bag.
Kennedy's heart was hammering, again, and she was doing her best
not to heave her clamped breasts. The connecting
chains formed a taut, upside down "Y," with negligible
slack. In fact, as she inhaled and exhaled, the chain
tightened enough to tug on her nipples with each breath.
Hence, the inadvisability of breast heaving.
"I know you're probably a little thirsty," Lena said, then
reached up and released the pinch-clamp on the IV bag, "hence
the electrolyte drink. Sorry it's room temperature.
If I'd known I'd be torturing you, I'd have chilled it in the
Kennedy blinked in horror. The weight of the IV bag was
counterbalancing the weight of the steel cylinder at the other
end of the cross-arm. As the fluid dripped from the
bag—and she could already see drop after drop leaving the bag in
the clear chamber at its base—its weight would diminish and the
tug on the nipple-clamp chains would slowly increase! And
there was nothing she could do to stop it! "Mrrrpfh!"
Lena was also gazing at the apparatus. "I don't know which
of Vivienne's dearly departed ancestors came up with this
thing," she purred, "but you have to admit it's very
clever." She focused on Kennedy's sad, wet eyes.
"Good slave-girls get regular meals, healthy exercise, and
nookie every night," she said. "Bad slave-girls who try
and run away, on the other hand, get punished."
Kennedy whined—"Mrrrk!"—and a shiver shook her stretched and
shining body as Lena placed a hand on her taut tummy, slid her
fingers through the captive's ginger pubic bush, then caressed
her labia with her palm. She closed her eyes and tried her
best to ignore her Mistress' hand—and then it wasn't
necessary. Lena's hand was gone.
Kennedy opened her eyes, lifted her head, and found Lena near
the chamber door. She was clicking off the switches of a
small electrical panel. Two or more of the white
spotlights overhead winked out with each click... until only the
heat-lamps remained, and the clicks continued until only about
half of the amber-orange lamps remained illuminated. There
was still a sufficient number of lamps to bathe Kennedy's
stretched body from fingers to toes.
Then, without a word, Lena left the chamber.
The door closed, Kennedy heard the lock turn, and she was
alone—alone but for the nipple-clamps and the slowly emptying IV
bag overhead. In the dim orange light she couldn't gauge
the progress of the fluid slowly dripping towards her
ball-gagged mouth, nor could she taste anything, not yet.
But gravity would not be denied, the fluid would arrive,
the bag would empty, and her poor, burning nipples would
|The Curious Case...
the electrolyte drink reached Kennedy's mouth. It had an
overly-sweet, cloying taste, probably as a result of not being
cold. As it dripped into her ball-gagged mouth, Kennedy
managed to periodically swallow. She could have turned her
head to either side and let the liquid drain from her mouth to
the table but that would have been disgusting and she was
As for her nipples, as the minutes passed and the bag became
more and more flaccid, the tug on her nipples increased until
her breasts, already semi-flattened by her spreadeagled
condition, were stretched into pale, freckled cones. The
agony was... surprisingly not agony. Go figure.
Granted, the clamps hurt, but at some point the clamps stopped
tightening. Kennedy suspected the edges of semicircular
pads actually gripping her nipples had maxed out, had met at the
edges and could tighten no more.
The increase in pain had been negligible, either that or Kennedy
had become accustomed to the entire arrangement. And as
for the increased tension on the chains stretching her boobs
into cones, it hurt, but was far from agony. She came to
suspect the fulcrum of the lever arrangement had a governor of
some sort. The maximum pinch and stretch had already been
achieved. There was still fluid in the IV, but it was as
bad as it was going to get.
Kennedy was not happy, and the clamps and chains were
painful, but she had to admit her punishment fell short of
actual torture. It wasn't that Lena was all bark and no
bite, but more like she was mostly bark and a little
nibble. Go figure.
Minutes passed and eventually the IV bag completely
emptied. Kennedy's nipples survived. More minutes
Finally, a key rattled in the lock, the door opened, and Lena
returned. Kennedy watched as she reached to the panel and
clicked back on all the spotlights, clicked off the remaining
heat-lamps, then took a step to the side to clear the
doorway. Seconds passed, and a new figure appeared, framed
in the threshold.
Kennedy's eyes popped wide. The newcomer was Renee
Vidler! Viv's "Auntie Renee" was dressed in a stylish,
sleeveless summer dress with spaghetti straps. Her dark
hair was up, her pale blue eyes shone, and her lips were curled
in a wicked, sinister smile. To be charitable, the wicked
and sinister nature of her amusement were probably a matter of
context, but Kennedy didn't believe for one second that Renee
had appeared to rescue her from Lena.
The blonde and brunette strolled to the table and smiled down at
Kennedy. Renee indicated the nipple clamps with a vague
gesture, and Lena leaned forward.
"One thing you should know about nipple-clamps," Lena purred as
she reached for the left clamp. "If you think they hurt
"Urrrrrrrrrrk!" It hurts—it hurts—it hurts!
Lena had released the clamp and Kennedy's breast had snapped
back to its former slightly stretched shape, wobbling a little
in the process. Kennedy glared at Lena, then screamed
through her gag, again. "Urrrrrk!" Lena had released
the right clamp, with a similar result.
"Adorable," Renee sighed, smiling down at Kennedy's spreadeagled
form. "I love the additional freckles. She was a
cute little thing in Chicago, wearing her little power suit and
radiating diligence, education, and inexperience, but just look
at her now." She reached out and rested her hand on
Kennedy's taut stomach. "Adorable."
Meanwhile, Lena had disassembled and returned the various parts
of the nipple-stretching and damsel-hydrating apparatus to the
steel cabinet. She then strolled back to the table, this
time to the side opposite Renee.
Kennedy looked from face to face—from Mistress to
Mistress. She tried to muster a few eye-daggers, but found
she just didn't have it in her.
"The poor thing is tuckered out," Renee observed.
Lena reached out and gently examined Kennedy's nipples.
Kennedy winced as Lena's fingers delicately caressed the sore
nubbins. "None the worse for wear," Lena purred.
"Good," Renee said, sliding her hand down and scratching her
fingers through Kennedy's pubic bush. "Such a pretty
little slave-girl. Should we pierce her nipples, do you
think? I know a jeweler with a line of simply exquisite
gold-clad titanium rings and posts, suitable for nipples,
tongues, and other places."
Kennedy's eyes widened as she continued dividing her gaze
between the two Mistresses.
Renee noticed Lena's expression and chuckled. "Too
much?" She gave Kennedy's lower tummy a reassuring
pat. "Just kidding, Sweetness."
"Gingerella," Lena said.
"Her name is Gingerella," Lena explained.
Renee's smile widened. "How delightful.
Gingerella. Well, get her ready for the barbeque.
Gingerella and I need to talk."
"Urk?" Kennedy's eyes had popped even wider as she stared
"Oh, I see," Renee chuckled, and gave Kennedy's tummy another
reassuring pat. "You'll be a guest at the
barbeque, silly, not an entree. That would be waaay over
the top." With that, she turned and left the chamber,
quietly laughing as she went.
Kennedy watched her go, then turned her gaze to Lena.
"Wait here," Lena said, also giving Kennedy's stomach a
pat. "I need to fetch a few things." And with that
she followed Renee, closing the door behind her.
Kennedy heard the lock turn, again, then heaved a gagged sigh
and let her head drop to the table. Barbeque?
Kennedy's stomach growled. I could eat.
|The Curious Case...