Oddities indeed!

by Van ©2015

Chapter 12



Lena "redressed" Kennedy before leading her to the barbeque.  Specifically, Gingerella was released from the table, shackles locked around her ankles, manacles around her wrists, a collar around her neck, and a chastity belt—"Nrrrm!"—around her waist and through her crotch.  All were stainless steel, thick-walled, polished smooth on the inside and out, and with all edges well-rounded.  The ankle and wrist cuffs were wide, something like three inches, and the belt was crafted to tightly grip and "protect" her loins, but with a sawtooth-lined slit over her pussy, a star-shaped opening over her anus, and the center link of the manacles' connecting chain fixed to the back of the belt's waistband.  The collar was thick and wide, similar to the cuffs, with a chain leash dangling from a ring in the front.

Somewhat sweaty—but not about to suggest to Lena that she needed a bath, even if the ball-gag wasn't plugging her mouth and making that impossible—Kennedy left the Castle by the kitchen door, stumbling in Lena's wake.  Their destination was the path down to the lake and the picnic table and barbeque grill on a level stretch of lawn just above the earth-sheltered Canoe House.  The table was spread with a red and white checkered tablecloth, one end of which was occupied by plastic containers of sliced tomatoes, onions, and pickles, jars and squeeze bottles of various condiments, a large plastic bag of hamburger buns, etc., etc.  It was all the makings of a burger fest, except for the burgers, and that deficiency was being rectified.

Vivienne was standing in front of the smoking grill.  She was dressed (restrained) the same as Kennedy, except that the chains linking her wrist cuffs to the back of her belt were substantially longer, easily long enough for her to man the grill and flip burgers.  She was also wearing a hunter-green cook's apron and her ball-gag was loose around her collared neck and not filling her mouth.  A dozen or more meat patties were sizzling on the grill.

Renee was seated at the table and smiled as the blonde and redhead made their approach.  "Adorable," she purred.  "Have a seat next to me, dear," she added, patting the bench at her side.

Kennedy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, clinked and clanked to the table, then eased her steel-cleaved butt onto the bench next to her "employer."

Lena unclipped and pocketed Kennedy's leash, then went to the grill and relieved Vivienne of both her cooking duties and the green apron.

Her eyes on Kennedy, Vivienne minced to the table, but before she could say anything—

Renee lifted her right hand, made a gesture, and spoke a single word.  "Gag."

Vivienne heaved a sigh of Truly Tragic Proportions... then popped her ball-gag into her mouth and buckled it tight at the nape of her neck.  Her manacle chains were just long enough to make that possible.  She then sat at the table opposite Kennedy and favored her aunt with a stony stare.

"Now, Gingerella," Renee said as she leaned close and released the buckle of Kennedy's ball-gag, "let's have that talk I promised."

The gag was now loose around Kennedy's neck, as Vivienne's had been.  She licked her lips, not knowing what to say, then managed a weak smile as she watched Renee reach into an open, ice-filled cooler, pull out a bottle of beer, and use an opener to pop the cap.  Renee held the bottle to Kennedy's lips and lifted it so she could drink.  'Upper Hand Lager' Kennedy read as Renee placed the bottle on the table.  There was a woodcut of a lumberjack on the label.  Kennedy surmised it was a local brew.  Wherever it came from, it was good.

"Now," Renee said with a bright smile.  "I know you haven't compiled a report of your progress with the inventory, but based on Lena's words, I'm very pleased with your job performance."

"My job performance?" Kennedy muttered, then glowered at Renee.  "My job performance?"  Her chains rattled as she tugged on her cuffs.  She didn't tug too hard, of course, not wanting to punish her crotch.  "Release me right now!  And Vivienne as well."

"I've doubled your salary," Renee said, "including the stock options and IRA."

Kennedy froze in mid-rant.  "I... Why..."  She gave her wrists one last tug before continuing.  "I'm here to evaluate antiques, not be a slave-girl."

"Well, actually..."  A coy smile curled Renee's lips.  "Let's not quibble.  You're here to serve as my niece's companion and to evaluate antiques, as you put it.  Do a good job of both and my rather generous payments will continue, accumulate in your savings account, and accrue interest."

"I don't want to playact at being a prisoner," Kennedy huffed.

Renee nodded.  "I understand.  Vivienne feels the same way.  That's why there will be no playacting involved."

Kennedy stared at Renee for several seconds... then shifted her gaze to Vivienne.  Her friend—her fellow slave-girl—was staring back with sad, blue eyes.

"By the way, Gingerella," Renee purred, "be advised that the local sheriff is a very good friend of mine.  Well, not a very good friend, but he certainly appreciates my contributions to his campaign fund.  In any case..."  She held the beer for Kennedy to drink, again.  "If, at some point in the future, you manage to escape the Castle once again, this time evade Skylar Smoke, and find your way to his office... whose word do you think he'll believe—yours, or mine?"

Kennedy continued to stare.  "You've got this all figured out, don't you?" she muttered.

"Oh, don't look so sad," Rene chuckled.  "I promise you it won't be forever.  I've promised Vivienne she can visit London and Paris at some point.  Convince Mistress Lena of your trustworthiness, and I'll let you accompany her.  Also, my promise of an antique shop of your own someday is quite genuine."

Kennedy was still glowering.  "How... How long?"

"Excellent," Renee purred.  "The deal is struck and it's all over but negotiating the final terms.  Actually..."  She gave Kennedy another drink of beer.  "Negotiations won't be necessary.  You two get your European vacation when I say so, and the same goes for your shop.  Be a good slave-girl and..."  Her voice trailed off as she gazed at something over Kennedy's shoulder.

Kennedy turned and watched Skylar Smoke stroll from the woods.  The Ojibwa beauty was dressed in her usual moccasins and camouflaged pants and tank-top.

Without a word to anyone, Skylar walked to the table, slathered mustard and mayonnaise on a bun, added lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickle slices, then went to the grill.  Lena transferred two meat patties with melted cheese to the bun, and Skylar returned to the table.  She took a bottle of beer from the cooler, popped the cap, then—burger in one hand and beer in the other—strolled back the way she's come.

Kennedy watched Skylar take a bite from her burger... than the forest swallowed her up and she was gone.

"A woman of few words," Renee chuckled.

"No, ya think?" Kennedy muttered under her breath, then focused on Renee.  "I want to talk about this with Viv," she said.

"Oh, certainly," Renee purred, a wicked smile curling her lips.  "Not that it makes any difference, of course."

The Curious Case...
Chapter 12

"I assume you noticed how Miss McKidd and Vivienne kept desperately trying to conspire together during the barbeque," Renee chuckled.  "It was very cute."

"Yeah, cute," Lena huffed, "but even side-by-side so Snow White could share burgers with Gingerella, one or both of us were always close enough to rain on their parade."

"Well," Renee purred, "now that they're safely locked in Vivienne's bedroom for the night, they can conspire to their little hearts' content.  Do you really think it's necessary to keep them both locked in chastity belts?"

"Gingerella is being punished for her escape attempt," Lena answered, "and having Snow White share her punishment will reinforce the lesson.  Not to worry.  Snow White's belt comes off in the morning."

"But poor Gingerella will wear her belt for the next seven days and nights," Renee sighed.

"Not counting the brief periods when Snow White gives Gingerella her daily baths," Lena said.

"Yes," Renee nodded, "but you'll supervise, to make sure Vivienne doesn't get overly enthusiastic with the soapy washcloth and sneak in a little nookie."

"Of course," Lena agreed.

Renee and Lena were on the "sub-dungeon" level under the basement of the original Castle, in what was called the "Bondage Parlor."  Renee was still wearing her stylish sundress and expensive sandals and her hair was still up.

Lena was completely naked and on her stomach on a bondage table constructed of solidly joined, heavy timbers.  Numerous iron rings dangling from its periphery, providing convenient lashing points.  She was bound in a tight, stringent hogtie.  Specifically, Lena's upper body was bound in a box-tie, the cruel variant with her wrists crossed, raised, and lashed against her spine just below her shoulder blades.  Also, her fingers, thumbs, and palms were bound with hemp cord integrated into the box-tie.  Her ankles were crossed and bound and her thighs lashed to her lower legs and ankles in a stringent frog-tie.  Her toes and feet were bound with more of the same cord binding her hands, but at the moment the free ends were unsecured.  Lena's long, blond hair was combed back in a severe ponytail, wrapped with rope, folded back on itself, then wrapped with more rope.  The end of the hair rope was also loose.  Finally, a web of rope was threaded through various elements of Lena's box-tie and frog-tie bonds, but at the moment the strands were somewhat slack.

And why had Lena allowed herself to be bound in this manner?  Had she been drugged or suffered a disorienting blow to the head?  Had Renee used her hitherto unsuspected kung-fu skills to overcome Lena with an exotic take-down and render her unconscious with a choke hold?  Had Renee ordered Skylar to sneak up behind Lena and utilize her lasso?

Actually, after putting the youngsters to bed, the two Mistresses had retired to the Lakeside Lounge and cut a deck of cards.  Lena had lost.  Not to worry.  Renee's visit was scheduled to last five more days, and tomorrow night they'd cut the deck again.  The laws of probability dictated that Lena would get her turn... eventually.

Her pale-blue eyes sparkling and an evil grin curling her lips, Renee took hold of the two free ends of the rope connecting the box-tie to the frog-tie and pulled.  It was a clever arrangement with compound hitches that functioned like a block and tackle, multiplying Renee's mechanical advantage.  As she repeatedly pulled in the slack, a few inches at a time, the web of loops and hitches grew evermore compact, the hog-tie grew evermore stringent, and Lena's upper body was pulled back in a back-curving arch until she was balanced solely on her tummy with her breasts completely off the table.

"You are such a bitch," Lena gasped.

"Yes, aren't I?" Renee purred.  She knotted the hogtie rope, wrapped the remaining free ends around a central pair of ropes, further tightening the hogtie, then tied off the rope with a final knot.  She then threaded the loose cords from Lena's foot and toe bonds through various elements of the box-tie, pulled out all the slack, and tied additional knots.

"Just you wait," Lena muttered.

"Hold that thought," Renee said.  "I'm not finished."  She deployed additional ropes and lashed Lena to the table, interlacing the ropes through her bonds and the rings around the edge and pulling out all slack before tying knots.  For Lena, rolling about on the table had been an iffy proposition before the additional ropes.  Now, it was clearly impossible.  Next, Renee popped a ball-gag into Lena's mouth and buckled it tight under her bound hair.  It was the breathable kind with a hollow, well-ventilated ball, the same style Snow White and Gingerella had been wearing when Lena put them to bed.  Finally, Renee threaded Lena's hair-rope through her hog-tie bonds, pulled out the slack until Lena's head was pulled back, and tied it off.

Renee strolled to the front of the table and smiled at her victim.  "There.  All finished.  You were saying?  Something about my being a bitch?"

Lena didn't even attempt forcing a rude comment through her gag.  She stared daggers at the bitch in question, but her eye-daggers were as impotent as Gingerella's.

Renee reached out, cupped Lena's hanging breasts, and squeezed.  "Hmm... I suppose I could get more cord, bind these beauties, and lash them to the front of the table..."  Her smile widened.  "But I'm not that big of a bitch."  She released her grip, turned, strolled to a small table, and settled into one of a pair of chairs.  She poured red wine from an open bottle into a stemmed glass, then took a sip.  "Maybe tomorrow night," she added.

Lena continued glowering at her bitch of an employer (and infrequent lover).

Renee lifted a brass hourglass and turned it over.  They both watched grains of white sand begin falling from the upper glass chamber and into the lower, ticking away the seconds and minutes of the hour during which Lena would suffer the ropes and cords of Renee's cruel handiwork.  When the last grains had fallen, Renee would release most of Lena's bonds, probably leaving her box-tie and ball-gag intact, then lead her up to the master bedroom for a night of whoopee.

Lena stared straight ahead, ignoring the gloating, wine-sipping, beautiful bitch at the table, and endured.

The Curious Case...
Chapter 12

Upon being sealed in the inescapable but comfortable dungeon that was Vivienne's bedroom, Viv had first removed Kennedy's gag, and then her own.  Beyond that, there wasn't much more that she could do.  Both damsels' steps were hobbled by identical sets of shackles, both sets of loins were locked in identical chastity belts, both necks were locked in identical collars (although Lena had removed their chain leases and taken them with her), and both pairs of wrists were locked in manacles linked to the backs of their belts.  Granted, Kennedy's manacle-to-belt chains were substantially shorter than Vivienne's and her reach significantly more restricted, but everything was solidly locked and Lena had the required key or keys.

They each completed their evening toilette, with Vivienne assisting her more helpless fellow slave-girl, then climbed into the bed.

"Well," Kennedy sighed, focusing her somewhat grumpy gaze on Vivienne, "here we are."  She shook her ginger curls from her freckled face.  "And don't start whining that 'You hate me!' nonsense."

Vivienne managed a weak smile.  "I wouldn't blame you if you did.  Hate me, I mean."

Kennedy stared into Viv's blue eyes for several seconds before continuing.  "Did you really cause all this to happen?"

There was another pause before Vivienne answered.  "Yes.  And no."

"Care to clarify?" Kennedy muttered.

"I wanted to see you again, and I wanted us to have fun," Vivienne responded, "but it was up to Lena to decide how far things would be allowed to go."

Kennedy frowned.  "How?"

"If you didn't want to play at all," Viv explained, "you would have done your inventory, no matter how long it took, and that would be that.  If you'd freaked out, and I mean totally freaked out, the game would have been called off and we'd do whatever it took to calm you down."  She heaved a rather sad sigh.  "As it turns out, you managed to convince Lena that you want to play."

"What?"  Kennedy glowered at her friend.  "This is my fault?  That's nonsense."

Vivienne sighed, again.  "Is it?  You have been taking all of this rather well... after a fashion."

Kennedy continued staring at Viv.  Is it true?  Maybe it is.  But what should I have done differently?  She tugged on her manacles and kicked her fettered feet in frustration.  What can I do now?

"I... I'll do what I can to make our enslavement as good for you as I can," Vivienne said quietly.

Kennedy suppressed a smile.  Viv's eyes were wet, and Kennedy could tell her friend and fellow slave-girl was doing her very best not to cry.  "How are you gonna do that?" Kennedy chuckled.  "Lena's in charge."

Vivienne managed a smile.  "I'll seduce her with my feminine wiles."

"How very disreputable of you," Kennedy purred.  "Tell me, is your Auntie Renee telling the truth?  Has she really doubled my salary and benefits, and will she really buy me my own shop someday?"

"I'm sure of it," Vivienne replied gravely.  "And I believe she'll let us go to London and Paris... someday."

Kennedy nodded.  "Well... I guess my best course of action is to pretend to go along with all this."

Vivienne's lips curled in amusement, slightly.  "Pretend to go along?"

"Yes, pretend to go along."  Kennedy snuggled close to Viv, who opened her less stringently restrained arms and pulled her into a warm embrace.  "And with you making our enslavement 'good,' it won't be so bad."

Their chains clinked and chastity belts clattered and slid against each other as they shared a hug.

"Unfortunately," Vivienne sighed, "at the moment, neither or us is in a position to make things really good for anybody."

Kennedy sighed as well, then planted a kiss on Vivienne's pouting lips.  "We can give each other detailed breast examinations," she suggested, "including lactation evaluations."

"Lactation evaluations?" Vivienne giggled, then squealed when Kennedy took her right nipple in her mouth and sucked.  A shiver of delight rippled through the fair-skinned pixie's body.  "Oh... lactation evaluations.  I suppose we can also give each other oral exams... with our tongues."

"That reminds me," Kennedy chuckled as she released Vivienne's nipple.  "If I don't get full medical and dental coverage, the whole deal is off."

Vivienne giggled, again.  "Oh, that's right.  You haven't seen... the chair."

Kennedy's eyes widened and her smile froze.  She could tell by Vivienne's manner that the chair in question was special.  "The chair?"

"Part doctor's examination couch, with stirrups, and part dentist chair.  And it's completely adjustable."

Kennedy heaved another sigh.  "Let me guess:  It has straps."

"Lots of straps," Vivienne nodded.  "Anyway, Auntie Renee has doctor and dentist friends who make house calls."

"Or, in this case, Castle calls," Kennedy drawled.

"Yes," Vivienne confirmed.  "Every six months I get a dental exam, complete with x-rays, and every April a physical.  I assume from now on you will too."

Kennedy frowned.  "X-rays?"

"The dentist brings a portable machine," Vivienne explained, "but the chair is Castle equipment."

"I see," Kennedy said, then kissed Vivienne's lips.  "Well, I guess I don't have any excuses."

"I guess not," Vivienne agreed, and returned Kennedy's kiss.

The kissing continued, with tongue, and the slave-girls used their fettered hands to gently caress each others available skin.  Thorough and repeated oral exams were intermixed with equally thorough breast exams.  All of that said, the activities were anything but clinical.  Unfortunately, they were also somewhat frustrating.  Steel chastity belts, especially well-designed steel chastity belts, trump erotic enthusiasm to a remarkable degree.

Eventually, the slave-girls fell asleep, still embracing under the covers and never suspecting that directly over their heads in the Mistress Bedroom, Mistress was topping Mistress.  That is, a naked and sweaty Renee was boinking a naked, sweaty, and box-tied Lena.  And when it was her turn, to the extent allowed by her bonds, Lena was returning the favor.

And that night in the Mistress Bedroom, frustration did not rear its ugly head.

The Curious Case...

And thus began what Kennedy came to think of as "The Slavery Years."

Snow White's chastity belt was removed the next morning, but Gingerella's belt stayed on for six more days and nights, one full day after Auntie Renee's return to Chicago.  Kennedy was grumpy and resentful, of course, but decided to do the right thing and not take it out on her fellow slave-girl.  Gingerella's steel-encased loins might be frustrated, but once Mistress Lena locked them in the bedroom, Kennedy did her best to pleasure Snow White's steel-free loins—and either Vivienne was the greatest actress in the history of the stage, or her efforts were successful.

Weeks turned into months.

Winter at the castle would have been a chilly affair, indeed, if Mistress Lena hadn't reinstated clothing privileges for her charges.  That said, Kennedy found the spandex, fleece pile-lined, skintight, body-hugging jumpsuits to be somewhat humiliating.  The slave-girls were each issued several sets.  Kennedy's all had broad, horizontal stripes of day-glo green and rust-tan.  Vivienne's jumpsuits were similar, but with bright pink and heather-gray stripes.  In Kennedy's humble opinion, they looked like science fiction convicts.  There were matching coats and boots for them to wear when they went outside, but inside they went barefoot, as usual.  Thankfully, the Castle and Down Below had underfloor heating.

Mistress Lena ran a taut ship.  Now and then one or both of the slave-girls would be punished for what Kennedy came to realize were largely fictitious violations of poorly defined rules.  The supposed transgressions were flimsy excuses to introduce Kennedy to additional chambers of the "sub-dungeon."  Thus, much to her dismay, Kennedy's experience with complicated, well-engineered, and terrifying "torture devices" and "dungeon furniture" expanded.  But the sympathy sex with Viv in the bedroom that followed was spectacular.

Also, Kennedy discovered that Mistress Lena was not above using the forced orgasm as a motivational tactic, and that went for mechanical intercourse, vibrators, and Mistress' own fingers, lips, and tongue!  Often with Vivienne restrained in some manner, either as a spectator or locked in her bedroom, Lena would coax orgasm after orgasm from a stringently restrained Kennedy.  Other times, Kennedy was the bound and gagged spectator as Lena "disciplined" Vivienne.  It was very cruel and unspeakably wicked, but happened with sufficient infrequency that Kennedy could treat the "ordeals" as special occasions.

Kennedy also learned that Renee Vidler owned a fortune in bondage gear of every description.  She came across storerooms full of steel, leather, latex, and even canvas straitjackets and body sheaths as she continued her furniture inventory, and the same went for the tools of flagellation.

And speaking of the inventory, eventually, Kennedy completed her initial count and began processing the results, cross-referencing the estate records with individual pieces and confirming their provenance.  Some of the pieces of furniture were individually quite valuable, and the intact sets were especially precious.  Once her final report was filed, Renee thanked her for her diligence, deposited a large bonus in her bank account, and ordered Lena to punish her severely for not including the Castle's bondage gear and the specialized furnishings of the sub-dungeon in her inventory.

Kennedy suffered a full week of daily restraint and forced orgasms, including having no choice but to watch Vivienne be similarly "punished."  She then began a second inventory.  This one took much longer as either Kennedy or Viv were required to test each and every item of bondage gear for at least one hour, and half a day for the bondage furniture.

As for Skylar Smoke, she never came into the Castle, not even in the dead of winter.

Kennedy got it into her head that the Ojibwa hermit-huntress might be lonely (not knowing about Mistress Lena's occasional day trips into the forest, during which she was invariably lassoed, bound, and boinked) and convinced Vivienne that they should both "escape," meaning pay Skylar a visit.  The slave-girls chose a bright spring day, waited until Mistress Lena was busy with her chores, and made their break, scampering into the woods dressed in Hobbit Slippers and their birthday suits, and this time Kennedy had the foresight to insist they bring bottles of water.

Unbeknownst to Kennedy, Vivienne had inadvertently let the plan slip to Mistress Lena.  "It was an accident!  Really!  I swear!"  Anyway, they only got a couple of miles before they were captured, one by one.  An entire week of alfresco bondage and woodland boinking ensued, and the captives learned that Skylar had an earth-sheltered "cabin" on the estate, not far from the Castle.  It had all the modern conveniences, including a hefty but rather cramped steel cage.  Both slave-girls experienced being locked in the cage, bound and gagged, and watching the other "suffer" erotic punishment on Skylar's large and surprisingly luxurious bed.  It was... horrible?  Kennedy decided to go with horrible.

Eventually, just short of two years into Kennedy's new career, Auntie Renee made one of her infrequent visits and announced that the trip to London and Paris was a go.  Lena would accompany them as their chaperone (meaning slave-handler) and they'd stay in the best hotels, dine at the best restaurants, visit all the museums, see all the sights, and have a smashing good time.  Renee's only requirement was that they spend a week visiting a friend of hers in Somerset, a Lady Tydwell.  The trip happened, the girls had the planned smashing time in London and Paris, and a very "interesting" time at Tydwell Castle—but that's another story.

And at last, Kennedy and Vivienne's time as Prisoners of Castle Vidler came to an end.

Renee fulfilled her promise to bankroll an antiquities business for Kennedy, and "
Gingerella's Antiques" opened in a charming commercial space on a Manhattan side street.  Vivienne went with Kennedy and acted as her shop girl.  There was a large apartment above the shop with more than enough room for Viv to paint and write, and the relocation put her closer to some of her artistic and literary contacts.  Both Gingerella's Antiques and its resident artist/writer thrived.  The antiquities end of things was operating in the black in a surprisingly few months, and Viv kept producing and selling both paintings and manuscripts.

There was a hidden storeroom in the basement of the shop with a cage strikingly similar to the one in Skylar's cabin, as well as cabinets containing a generous collection of leather and steel restraints and coil after coil of rope and cord.  Now and then, either friend might find themselves "tricked" into spending a night in the "dungeon" at the mercy of the other.  Either that, or they experienced a night of physically restrained but spiritually unrestrained sex, upstairs in the shared bedroom—but that's also another story.

Stories, actually.  Plural.

The Curious Case...
Chapter 12 & EPILOGUE

& the story

The  End

Chapter 11
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