by Van © 2026
		Chapter 8

Now and then in Action/Adventure or SciFi movies the damsel is captured, bound and/or gagged, the villain gloats for a while... then releases a giant hairy spider or giant scorpion or alien slug or giant whatever that (for reasons not entirely clear) begins to slooowly creep, crawl, and/or slither towards said helpless damsel?  The peril is horrifying and the suspense excruciating!

Well... Mel's experience of being naked, strapped in a bolero-straitjacket, panel-gagged, and lashed with taut, thin, hemp rope against a pile of pillows arranged against the headboard of her four-poster guest bed in her guest bedchamber was... dissimilar.

In the first place, Elfrida, the naked, box-, frog-, and hogtied pixie-maid crawling on her belly up the bed towards Mel wasn't a creepy-crawly and was in no way horrifying.  In fact, "cute" was the least flattering description Mel could think of for her Elfie.

In the second place, Elfrida's motivation was entirely explicable.  She'd been ordered to perpetrate immediate and enthusiastic cunnilingus on Poor Mel!

Did Mel want Elfrida's tongue to repeatedly lick her totally exposed and vulnerable pussy until she convulsed in exquisite ecstasy?  Well...  No?  Not at this particular moment anyway, thank you.  Maybe later.  Also, it would have been polite to have been consulted beforehand.

And in the third case...  There was no third case.

Although...  come (or cum) to think of it... how bad could it be?  Mel had already survived being tag-teamed with a vibrator by Elfrida and Skylar.  Surely being repeatedly tongue-diddled by Elfrida-the-comely-pixie-maid wouldn't be any worse.  It might even be better.  Who knew?

And then... Mel's cunnilingual doom was at hand (or at lips)!  Elfrida's smiling (and blushing) face had arrived!  It was now less than an inch from Poor Melody's reluctant lady-bits!

Mel (and her pussy) braced for the erotic onslaught.  Her nipples had already prepared themselves by popping to full alert, even though they would only be spectators to their owner's impending fate.

And then... it happened!  Elfrida's cute little button nose bumped into Mel's pussy!  "Mrrrf!"  Then... Elfie continued wiggling forward... and upwards!

That's right, even though Elfrida was tightly and elaborately hogtied, somehow she was managing to wiggle, squirm, slither, thrash, and slowly climb her way up Mel's naked, helplessly trussed, bolero-jacketed, and gagged body!  There was egregious skin-on-skin and body-on-body contact!

"Mrrrpfh!"  Mel felt she had no choice but to object.  Elfrida was using her anatomy as her own personal Bondage Climbing Wall!  It was not only humiliating and mortifying, but involved repeated poking and prodding!  "Nrrrf!"  Also, the pixie-maid had unleashed her lips and tongue!  The thing was, she'd bypassed Mel's pussy and was licking, kissing, probing, and gently nibbling (gumming) Mel's tummy, bellybutton, and lower ribs... and was heading for her boobs and nipples!  Mrrrrr!"

Elfrida pausing in her slobbering efforts.  "What?" she inquired, an incredibly cute smile curling her lips as she gazed up at her helpless target.  "It's called 'foreplay,' Silly Goose.  It's required."

Mel shivered in her bonds and rolled her eyes.  At this rate Elfie would soon be sucking on her nipples, and eventually nuzzling her neck... assuming she didn't overbalance her hog-tied body and either slide/slither back down to the immediate proximity of her pussy or roll to the side and completely off Mel's body... which would require Elfie to completely reposition herself.

Goddammit Elfie! Mel telepathically objected.  You can't squirm and slide your naked and bound body against my naked and bound body without permission and nibble my tummy, boobs, and nipples when I can't nibble your tummy, boobs, and nipples in self defense!  It isn't fair!

The one-sided snuggling, slithering, and snogging continued.

Apparently Lady Clifton wanted to hear all about Jill's dream.  She probably thought she could use it in one of her novels; however, rather than release Jill from her bonds, serve her a refreshing beverage, and let her actually tell her about said dream, Her Ladyship untied Jill's ankles, feet, and big toes, then used the removed rope (coil #3) to give her a rope collar and leash!  She then lifted Jill to her feet and dragged (led) her from the lawn and into the shade of the Basking Garden's stone outbuilding/entry-hall.  Jill's wrists were still crossed and tied behind her back (rope coil #1), with her arms pinned to her sides (rope coil #2).  She had little choice regarding the relocation; however, when Her Ladyship untied, unwound, and removed her gag, she was free to whine and complain!

Jill licked her lips, worked her jaws, and addressed the matter at hand.  "Untie me.  Please."

"Not yet, dear," Her Ladyship purred as she led her guest/prisoner/personal-archaeologist to the compact refrigerator, opened its door, pulled out a plastic bottle of Volvic® mineral water, and cracked the cap.  She held the bottle to Jill's mouth so she could chug a few mouthfuls... took a quick drink herself... restored the cap... then placed the now nearly empty bottle on the stone floor.

Jill licked her lips, again.  She was about to reopen the discussion of how and why Dr. Jill Walker should be immediately released from all of her rope bondage... then froze in place, her blue eyes wide and staring.

Her Naked Ladyship had opened a wooden cabinet, revealing several additional coils of the same thin hemp rope binding Jill's crossed wrists and pinning her arms to her sides, then opened a wooden drawer inside the cabinet and extracted—"Hey!  No!  Mrrrpfh!"—a black leather gag with a somewhat generous leather mouth-plug attached to the inside of its lightly padded panel—"Nrrrrrf!"—which she'd crammed into Jill's mouth and was now deftly buckling the gag's strap tight at the nape of her neck!

"Mfff!"  Jill was gagged again (obviously), and the panel-gag was just as effective as the recently removed double-robe-sash-knotted-cleave/wrap-gag!

Meanwhile, without pausing to gloat (or explain herself), Lady Clifton selected several coils of hemp rope/cord, dropped them to the stone floor at Jill's bare feet, closed the cabinet door, eased (forced) Jill to the floor—"Mrrrf!"—and set to work.

When the final coil was expended, Jill's squirming, naked, panel-gagged,and already helplessly bound body was trussed from her shoulders to her big toes!

Specifically, Her Ladyship had applied an upper-body-harness over Jill's arms and torso, reinforcing her already existing bondage.  Doubled strands of thin hemp yoked her shoulders (anchoring the entire tie from above), passed above and below her breasts, encircled her waist, and dove between her legs to cleave her lady-bits and butt-cheeks and cinch her crossed wrists against her tailbone!  As for Jill's legs, they were lashed together at her mid-thighs, above and below her knees, around her mid-lower-legs, as well as her ankles, feet, and big toes—and everything was hitched, cinched, and interwoven into one continuous, multi-coil, full length web/matrix of thin, taut rope!

"Mrrrmp!" Jill complained, wiggling and squirming in her greatly enhanced bondage.  The thin strands were all tight enough to dimple her skin just about everywhere.  The overall tension was uniform, as far as Jill could tell, and her bonds pinched here and went slack there only when she tried to struggle.  Bondage-wise, it was abundantly obvious that Lady Clifton knew her stuff!

As a final touch (Jill hoped) Her Ladyship secured one last coil of rope through the nexus of her upper-body bonds, more-or-less between her shoulder blades... pulled the remaining doubled rope through an iron ring set in the stone wall between two of the cabinets at waist level... then tied its far end to Jill's ankle-bonds.  Technically, Jill supposed that meant she was hogtied (not that she was a rope bondage expert), but it was a hogtie with an abundance of slack.  Currently she was sitting on her rope-cleaved butt with her shoulders resting against the stone wall her knees bent and bound legs "comfortably" folded to her left.  If she wanted to, Jill could wiggle and squirm until she slid down the wall to fully rest on the floor, but obviously she wouldn't be wiggling more than a foot or two in any given direction.

Meanwhile, Her Ladyship had finally decided to indulge in a little quality gloating.  Hands on her bare hips, she smiled down at her naked, helplessly bound, and well-gagged guest.  This continued for something like half a minute... then she leaned down, gently took Jill's gagged head in her two hands... and kissed her glistening forehead.

"Such a dirty girl," Her Ladyship purred.  "I'll send someone to get you cleaned up."  She then released Jill's head and took a step back.  "Welcome to the 'Clifton Cottage Gang,' Dr. Walker.  Enjoy the rest of your initiation."  She then spun on her bare heels, sauntered to the hanging robes... paused to tease apart the now damp (and possibly slimy) knot joining the two halves of Jill's former gag... threaded one of the freed sashes through the loops of one of the robes... donned the robe and cinched it tight around her waist... then padded to the door leading back to the Cottage across the main lawn.

"Mrrrm?" Jill inquired, but Her Ladyship made her robe-clad, barefoot, and gorgeously smiling exit without replying, closing the door behind her.  Thud.

Jill had been abandoned... naked, bound, gagged, and tethered to the wall of a stone outbuilding!  So, she thought, I'm now a member of Lady Clifton's 'Gang.'  She squirmed and tugged against Her Ladyship's thin, tight, inescapable bondage.  I guess it's true what they say about curiosity and the cat, she mused... or in this case... curiosity and the naked, bound, and gagged archaeologist.

Lady Clifton made her way to her bedchamber... indulged in a refreshing shower... then dried her body and hair, padded to her walk-in closet, and dressed in underwear, sandals, and a custom tailored, designer label, incredibly expensive sundress with a charming yellow-daisies-on-a-white-background pattern.  She then strolled from her bedchamber to Mel's guest bedchamber.

Her Ladyship paused to compose herself in the hallway... then, smiling (of course), she turned the doorknob and entered her young guest's bedroom.  Her smile widened.

Mel was on the bed and strapped in the bolero-jacket, as Her Ladyship had ordered, but from that point forward the maids had improvised.  The bed's pillows were piled against the headboard, the adorable flaxen-haired Yank propped on her back against said pillows, then she'd been frog-tied and lashed in place.  Mel was also panel-gagged, but that wasn't particularly surprising.

What was surprising, however (and speaking of maids), was Elfrida—naked, elaborately hogtied, and busily licking, probing, and generally diddling Mel's exposed pussy!

Skylar, Her Ladyship silently sighed, then shook her head.  Lady Clifton had ordered no such entertainment, and she seriously doubted Bailey had either.  It would appear Skylar was feeling... neglected, even though she'd participated in all phases of "Miss Melvin's" indoctrination and instruction.  Granted, it was obvious that Elfrida and Mel had become something of an item and it would appear that Poor Skylar had become jealous, but that was no excuse.  Silly Goose, she'll have to be punished.

Oh-by-the-way, Elfrida was concentrating on the cunnilingual task at hand (meaning at tongue) and by all appearances was unaware of Her Ladyship's presence.

Mel, on the other hand, was staring at Lady Clifton with big, blue, and repeatedly blinking eyes.  She was also sweating and shivering in her bonds, but that probably had more to do with Elfrida's tongue than the sudden appearance of her stunning beautiful and aristocratic hostess.

Lady Clifton cleared her throat.  "Ahem!"

Mel continued blinking (and shivering).

Elfrida abruptly interrupted her oral efforts, swiveled her head to face her employer, and blushed bright crimson.

Poor Mel nearly swooned.  Naked, super-hogtied, and caught-in-the-act Elfie was incredibly cute—ultra-mega-cute!

"M-Milady!" Eldrida chirped.

"Is Skylar responsible for this?" Lady Clifton demanded.  Her smile had faded (although it was still there).

"Sk-Sk-Skylar?" Elfrida gasped.  "Uh... no Milady."

"I see," Her Layship purred.  "You hogtied yourself and are licking the private parts of Miss Lockhart, my invited guest, entirely of your own volition?"

"No, Milady...  I mean...  Yes, Milady."  Elfrida's blue eyes welled and it very much looked like she might be about to cry.

Lady Clifton's smile returned and she lifted her gaze to Mel.  "Skylar?"

Mel heaved a gagged sigh, nodded, that shifted her gagged gaze to the very unhappy (and adorable) Elfrida.  Awwwww...  sooo cute!  She then focused on Her Ladyship, and—"Mrrrrrf!"—did her best to plead for mercy on behalf of the helpless/hapless maid.  The panel-gag greatly complicated her efforts.

Fortunately, Lady Clifton got the message.  "Don't worry, darling," she chuckled.  "Elfrida is only in a little trouble, and you're in no trouble whatsoever." 

That's easy for you to say, Mel silently huffed.

Meanwhile, Her Ladyship had spun on her sandal-clad feet, strolled to the bedroom closet... returned to the main bedchamber... paused to rummage through the right bedside table... then tossed onto the bed a coil of the same thin hemp rope/cord lashing Mel to her pillow-padded headboard and binding only-in-a-little-trouble-Elfie in her elaborate hog-tie.

Lady Clifton then leaned close and crammed a wadded pair of panties (knickers) into Elfrida's mouth!  "Hold that," she purred, "and don't you dare spit it out."  She then folded a sky-blue bandana into a narrow bandage and used it to make Elfrida's obedient cooperation entirely moot by giving her a tight cleave-gag (with silky stuffing).

Mel had recognized both the panties/knickers and the bandana as her own.  The bandana was clean, but she was sure she'd worn that particular pair of panties all day yesterday.  Obviously, Her Ladyship had raided her laundry hamper!

Next, Lady Clifton took hold of Elfrida's hogtie-bonds and dragged her about a foot down the bed and away from Mel's exposed (and glistening) lady-bits.  Then, she retrieved the coil of rope/cord and made sure her naughty maid would not be be wiggling and/or squirming her lips, tongue, and the rest of her elaborately hogtied self up the bed and back within range of Mel's pussy.  Apparently Her Ladyship had decided that, as a precaution, simply gagging the pixie-maid would be inadequate.

When she was finished, Lady Clifton had crafted a very taut web of rope/cord strands that linked Elfrida's hogtie bonds to the foot-rail of the bed, a cross-brace of the overhead canopy, and the back of her bandana-cleave-gag at the nape of her neck!  Everything was cinched and hitched into a single-strand cat's cradle that left Poor Elfie immobilized and ever-so-slightly semi-suspended (maybe) with her hogtied body resting on her thighs and belly, the lower halves of her boobs just barely touching the mattress, and her gagged head lifted and pulled back with her chin up and her blue eyes locked with Mel's panel-gagged gaze.

Helpless in Her Ladyship's lattice of taut hemp, Eldrida wiggled and squirmed... or maybe shivered and wriggled.  It was all she could manage by way of a Courtesy Struggle; however (to Mel's relief), from Elfie's gagged expression she didn't seem to be in any great distress.

Lady Clifton smiled (gloated) down at her incredibly helpless and pathetic maid for several seconds... then beamed at Mel.

"Actually," Her Ladyship explained, "I didn't come here to discipline the domestic staff, but to give you some very good news.  Dr. Walker has decided to join the Bastillon Cottage Gang!  Isn't that wonderful, darling?"

Mel blinked her blue eyes in response.  "Mrrrf?"

"At the moment she's undergoing her introductory rope trial," Her Ladyship continued, and that's why I asked Skylar and Elfrida to make sure you didn't blunder onto the scene and, uh, complicate the interpersonal dynamics."  She leaned close and tugged on the vertical strap pinning Mel's leather-covered forearms against the bolero-jacket's waist-strap, testing its tightness.  "I took the occasion to widen your horizons with respect to leather."  She playfully tweaked Mel's nose.  "But this is only a warmup.  Your formal 'Leather Trial' will be more elaborate and restrictive... and at a future date."

Mel's eyes were wide and her heart pounding in her ears as she stared at Lady Clifton.  Dr. Jill's a 'Gang' member?  Skylar's jealous?  Elfie and I are a couple?  'More elaborate and restrictive' leather?!  She tugged on her crossed and leather-clad arms in helpless frustration.  This damn jacket isn't elaborate and restrictive enough?!

Then, Her Ladyship leaned close and kissed Mel's left cheek above her panel-gag... then took a step to the side and leaned even lower... then kissed Elfrida's right cheek, just above her bandana-cleave-gag (with silky stuffing).  She then spun on her sandal-clad heels (flaring the hem of her sundress in the process), strolled to the bedchamber door, opened it, and paused (dramatically) in the threshold.

"Enjoy the rest of the day, ladies," Lady Clifton wished her naked, bound, and gagged guest and naughty maid, then stepped into the hallway and closed the door.  Thud. 

Mel stared at the back of the door.

Thanks to her restrictive bondage, all Elfrida could stare at was Mel...including her pussy, thighs, tummy, bellybutton, boobs (and nipples), and gagged face.

The door quickly became uninteresting... so Mel shifted her gaze to... her naked, bound, and gagged... girlfriend?  This is NUTS!! she mused.

Jill languished in her elaborate rope/cord bonds for what had to be most of an hour.  It was a totally cloudless day (somewhat unusual for Lancashire in the summer) and the sun was beating on the outbuilding's slate roof.  Her tan skin still glistened with tanning lotion and sweat and dappled with the soil and lawn detritus she'd accumulated while rolling around in her former less-elaborate bondage out on the Basking Garden's lawn; however, she knew that at least some of the sweat that was failing to lubricate her tight bonds was new.  The air in her stone prison was still and hot, arguably stifling.  Adding additional dampness to incarceration, drool was leaking from the bottom of her panel-gag.

Suddenly, the door leading back to the Cottage opened and Bailey and Lucy strolled across the threshold, all smiles.  Both were dressed in their usual casual-about-the-Cottage business friendly and/or light-but-scholarly daywear.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Lucy cooed, lifting Jill's wet chin and smiling into the captive's blue eyes.

"This isn't so bad," Bailey purred, then her smile widened.  "Welcome to the Gang," she gushed, patting the top of Jill's gagged head (which Jill didn't find to be at all condescending).

Meanwhile, Lucy was running her hands over Jill's rope bonds (and body).  "Look!" she gasped.  "Her Ladyship used a crotch-rope!  Her Nibs didn't favor me with a crotch-rope for... three months?"

"That sounds about right," Bailey chuckled.  "Not to worry.  Helen knows what she's doing."

"Lady Clifton always knows what she's doing," Lucy nodded.

Jill looked from smiling face to smiling face, trying to decide what to say.  Finally she made her choice.  "Mrrrpfh!"  It seemed appropriate.

"Poor thing," Lucy reiterated.

"Let's get her cleaned up and ready for her chat with She Who Must Be Obeyed," Bailey suggested (ordered).

Jill's handlers (rescuers?) proceeded to untie the overwhelming majority of her elaborate bondage.  Actually, Bailey did most of the de-rigging while Lucy neatly coiled and secured the thin hemp ropes as they left Jill's body and returned them to their proper place in the appropriate wooden cabinet.  Obviously, the ginger had full knowledge of where Lady Clifton kept her Basking Garden hobby materials.

Eventually, Jill's bonds were reduced to her "original" bondage.  That is, her wrists remained crossed and lashed together behind her back with the single tight horizontal band of rope pinning her arms to her torso and passing just above her elbows and a few inches below her breasts.  How her current handlers knew these were the original bonds tied by Her Ladyship... Jill had no idea.  Maybe this particular configuration was a Gang standard.

Lucy pointed to the robe hanging in the wardrobe area.

Bailey shook her head.  "No, Cook might see us if we take her for walkies across the lawn all bound and gagged, robe or no robe."  She pointed at the outbuilding's other door, the Medieval-style timber door with iron bands and studded with iron bolts.  "We'll take the low road. Give her a collar and leash."

Jill blinked, looked from face to face (and drooled).  'The low road?'

Apparently the order about the collar and leash was for Lucy, because the ginger retrieved a coil of Jill's former more elaborate bonds, looped an end around Jill's neck, tied a non-compacting knot, then handed the resulting very long free end to Bailey.

Bailey accepted Jill's leash, produced a key-ring, and unlocked the timber and iron door.  Beyond was... darkness.

Naked, still glistening with lotion and sweat (dirt, lotion, and sweat), bound and panel-gagged, Jill flinched when her handlers grabbed her arms and led her across the threshold.  The end of her leash was still in Bailey's hand, but it was totally slack.

"Careful on the stairs," Bailey said quietly.

"We won't let you fall," Lucy reassured her fellow academic.

A short distance beyond the doorway was a spiral staircase that (of course) lead down.  The walls were roughly dressed stone, although the floor and stair treads proved to be reasonably smooth.  Once Bailey closed and locked the timber door behind them, the darkness was nearly total!  But then... Jill's eyes adjusted and she realized their way was lit by a series of iron-caged glass globes protecting flickering candles; however, Jill quickly decided the flickering lights were electric, LEDs that mimicked flickering candles.

They reached the bottom of the spiral staircase and found their way blocked by a wall of iron bars pierced in the center by a gate of more iron bars.  Bailey unlocked and opened the gate... and beyond was a stone corridor dimly lit by more iron and glass sconces.  Also, they were at a T-junction.  The flickering lights dwindled to vanishing points in either direction.

What the hell? Jill thought.  This was a major subterranean tunnel/corridor system, and by all appearances it was very old, not counting the LED lights, meaning the probable LED lights.

Jill's handlers led her to the left.  The many turns of the spiral staircase had been disorienting, but she suspected (or rather assumed) their destination was Bastillon Cottage.

The journey continued.  The floor underfoot was filthy, meaning dusty.  It wasn't punishing Jill's bare feet, but she knew her soles were probably covered with dirt and grime.  The rest of her body was already grubby, but by the time they arrived at wherever they were going her soles would be black, if they weren't already.

Eventually... they came to another wall of iron bars with a gate, once again Baily produced her key-ring and Jill found herself being led into a complex of stone corridors and past iron-banded-and-studded-timber-door after iron-banded-and-studded-timber-door.  Also, they passed junctions that led to more corridors and more doors.  The stone warren was huge, possibly as big as the footprint of the Cottage itself!  Maybe.  Maybe not.  Jill couldn't be sure.

They came to yet another wall of iron bars, passed through its gate, strolled (and padded) past another Medieval timber door, then climbed yet another spiral staircase!

Jill now found herself being dragged (okay, led) through a maze of narrow stone corridors, but the stone blocks were better-dressed than those down below and the floor was cleaner as well.  They passed wooden panels that might be the backs of doors... maybe.  They made a few left and right turns... passed through one of the aforementioned maybe-doors, through a small storeroom of some sort, and emerged into a discrete corner of the Bastillon Cottage gym complex!

I just passed through a secret door! Jill realized, and the Cottage is riddled with secret passages!  I gotta admit... that's kinda cool!

Anyway, Bailey and Lucy dragged (led) Jill to the gym's shower area, then tied the end of her leash to a convenient towel rack and began to undress.  Jill watched as garment followed garment... until her handlers were as naked as she was... even more so as they weren't tied up and gagged.

Jill figured she might as well leer at her fellow Gang members.  She had nothing better to do.  Obviously, Bailey spent time in Lady Clifton's Basking Garden, but the fact that grinning blonde had an allover tan was hardly breaking news.  As for Lucy, the overwhelming majority of the ginger's fit, athletic, curvaceous body was pale, peach-pink, and not tan.  That wasn't breaking news either.

Then... being properly nude (and smiling)... Jill's handlers pounced.

Jill was dragged into the showers and thoroughly and ruthlessly drenched, scrubbed, shampooed, and rinsed.  As Jill feared, the soles of her feet had proved to be black with grime and required special attention.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

Eventually, her detailed cleansing complete, Jill's body and hair were toweled dry... then her hair was brushed, combed, and restored to its usual stylishly tousled blond coif.  She was then tethered to the same towel rack as before and watched (leered) as her handlers dressed themselves.

Jill's bondage hadn't been touched, other than to be toweled dry like the rest of her.  Her crossed-wrist-bonds, arm-pinning-tie, rope-collar, and panel-gag might still be a little damp, but the knots and buckle remained intact.  Poor Jill was nude, helplessly bound, and gagged.

Then, the new Gang-member's handlers once again fully dressed and smiling, it was back into the Secret Passages.  They rose one floor via another spiral staircase... trekked across the Cottage... then passed through a Secret Door and emerged in the hallway not far from Lady Clifton's bedchamber.

Bailey knocked on the bedchamber door, waited until they heard Her Ladyship's voice from within—"Enter!"—then, both handlers and their naked, bound, and gagged charge did so.

Her Ladyship was sitting at her writing desk, apparently reading an old journal, resplendent in sandals and a charming sundress (white with yellow daisies).

"Ah, here you are," Lady Clifton purred, closed the journal, and indicated the loveseat in the bedroom's Rococo-style conversation area.

Bailey led Jill to the loveseat, encouraged her to sit (meaning plunked her naked butt down onto the soft and comfy cushions and upholstery), then untied and removed her rope collar and leash, knelt at her feet, pulled them together, and tied Jill's ankles, feet, and big toes together with the former collar/leash rope/cord.

Jill watched this happen without offering resistance.  Apparently, the way Her Ladyship had tied her out at the Basking Garden was, indeed, a Bastillon Cottage standard tie known by all (or at least by Her Ladyship and Bailey).  Also, Bailey hadn't waited for instructions.  Was improvisation allowed, or was Her Ladyship's grinning Companion/Secretary following prearranged orders?

Lucy had remained near the door, watching the unfolding scene with smiling interest.

"Dr. Russell," Lady Clifton said, "would you please inform Skylar that we're ready for tea?"

"Of course," Lucy answered with a smile, winked at Jill, then turned and left the bedchamber.

"Will there be anything else, Your Ladyship?" Bailey inquired.  "Perhaps you'd like me to lash Dr. Walker to the loveseat with more rope, say..."  She looked Jill up and down with a critical eye.  "... two or three hundred feet?"

"Cheeky Monkey!" Lady Clifton chuckled, then pointed to the door.  "Go!"

Bailey (the Cheeky Monkey in question), smiled broadly, dropped a quick (and mocking) curtsy, then made her exit.

At that point Her Ladyship relocated to the conversation area, gracefully sat in the loveseat (intimately close to her guest/prisoner), then draped an arm across Jill's bare shoulders and gave her a gentle but firm sideways hug!

Jill's heart was hammering again, but she managed not to flinch and stifled the urge to wiggle, squirm, and voice well-muffled objections.  Was Lady Clifton, Dowager Countess Cumberdale, about to start snogging her?  And more importantly... did she really mind?

Suddenly, there was a knock at the bedroom door, it opened without permission being granted, a musical and rather metallic clattering racket ensued, and Skylar-the-pageboy-maid wheeled a serving cart into the bedchamber.  She was wearing her usual black-and-white maid's uniform (with sensible shoes, white apron, and frilly white cap), as well as a full set of chains!  Serving chains!  Slave chains!

That is, a steel collar was around Skylar's neck, a pair of manacles on her wrists, and a pair of fetters on her ankles!  All were connected by vertical and horizontal lengths of medium-weight steel chain long enough to let her do most (if not all) of her domestic duties.

Skylar was not happy.  In fact, she was unhappy.  (Jill thought the pageboy-maid's sullen pout was adorable, but mostly she was concentrating on not blinking and fidgeting in Her Ladyship's gentle and continuing embrace.

"Skylar," Her Ladyship chuckled, "what did Cook do when Bailey clamped you in irons?"

Skylar's pout became a disgruntled frown.  "She was absolutely scandalized, of course... Milady."

"By which you mean she smiled and rolled her eyes," Lady Clifton purred.

Meanwhile Skylar (her chains rattling as she took the mincing steps allowed by the "irons" in question) pushed the serving cart to within the easy reach of Her Ladyship.  It was laden with a complete tea service (Beau Rose Bone China) and two silver serving stands, one laden with pastries and biscuits (cookies), and the other with various tea sandwiches (Egg Salad, Smoked Salmon, Chicken Curry Salad, Roast Beef with Watercress, Cucumber... the usual suspects).

Jill's stomach growled in approval, which was both embarrassing and entirely understandable.  She'd been busy being bound and gagged for most of the day and had missed lunch.  Also, apparently Cook (a maturely attractive and personable matron with fearsome culinary skills) was in on all this rope, gag, and chain nonsense.  Who else of the Cottage staff are... kinky? Jill wondered, other than Bailey and the maids, of course.

"That will be all, Skylar," Her Ladyship added, then turned her attention to the cart.

Skylar favored Jill with her best Respectful Glower, curtsied (Clatter), carefully spun on her sensibly clad heels (Clatter-clank), minced to the bedroom door (Clink-clatter-rattle-clink...), paused in the doorway to curtsy, once again (Clatter), then completed her disgruntled and chain-encumbered exit.

"I'll be Mother," Her Ladyship purred as she poured steaming tea into the two delicate porcelain cups... added milk to one (already knowing that Jill preferred her tea black) then leaned close, unbuckled the strap of Jill's panel-gag, re-secured it on its first hole, and helped her guest/prisoner expel the mouth-plug, thus converting the gag into an unusual and arguably very ugly necklace.

"Now," Lady Clifon said as Jill licked her lips and worked her jaws, "while we eat, you can finally tell me about your dream, and leave nothing out."  She then held the cup without milk to Jill's lips... and her prisoner/guest took a careful sip.

Her Ladyship indicated the serving towers with a graceful flip of the wrist.  "What looks good?"

Jill swallowed, licked her lips, and stared at the tower of mini-sandwiches.  "All of it," she answered, then favored her hostess/captor with a coy smirk.  "What are you having?"

Her Ladyship's smile was also coy.  "Cheeky Monkey," she purred.

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Chapter 7

Chapter 9

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