by Van ©2021
		Chapter 3

The masked blonde had promised to make Noreen "a little less comfortable," but as it turned out, she;d been exaggerating.  After arranging the coils of rope around the base of the chair now facing the bed, the first thing she did was untie Noreen's crotch-rope, lead her to the master bedroom's attached bath, plunk her down on the commode, and order her to "take a tinkle."  Noreen was more than happy to comply.  Once she'd emptied her bladder, the blonde produced a ravor-sharp folding knife from somewhere and began carefully slicing through the bands of duct-tape mummifying Noreen's lower face.  Obviously, she was removing her gag.

"Not a word," the blonde purred as the last of the tape was sliced and peeled away.  She pocketed the knife, then plucked a large sphere of foam from Noreen's mouth.  The mystery of the mouth stuffing was finally resolved.

Noreen licked her lips.  "Please—Mrrrf!"

The blonde's right hand was clamped tightly over Noreen's mouth.  "Now what did I just say?" she demanded.  By her tone she was more amused than angry.  "Do you want to make me punish you... or would you like a nice cool drink of water?"

Noreen very much wanted the drink.  She was as parched as she could ever remember.  The blonde released her hand gag, Noreen remained silent, then accepted a full glass of cold, clear water from the washbasin's faucet.  She licked her lips, again, then—"Mrf!"—the blonde stuffed the slimy foam ball back in her mouth and resumed her hand-gag.

"Hold that for me, will you?" the blonde said, dragged Noreen back into the bedroom, and planted her rump on the wooden chair.  "I'm getting tired ot telling you to be a good little damsel," the blonde said, "but I'll try one more time.  If you spit out that Nerf ball, I'll punish one of your daughters."  And with that, she released her hand, once again.

Noreen could have easily spit out the ball, but she did not.  Instead, she watched as her kidnapper zipped open a side-pocket of her duffle-bag, produced a roll of off-white medical tape, then pulled the folding knife from her pocket and flicked it open her.  Noreen watched with resignation as the blonde sliced off a six or seven-inch strip of the wide tape.

"Lips together," the blonde ordered, and Noreen bit down on the foam ball.  The blonde pressed the strip home, then smoothed it with her gloved fingers to make sure the adhesive had a good grip.  Once again, Noreen was gagged.

"Now," the blonde said as she picked up a coil of rope and prepared it for use.  "Time to make a few changes.  Be a good girl and maybe I'll be a good girl too."

And with that, the masked blonde began untying and re-tying Noreen's bonds.  It became obvious that she knew exactly what she was doing, even to a bondage novice like Noreen.  She remained helpless the entire time as there were always sufficient rope binding her body to make meaningful resistance impossible.  It was a lengthy process, but Noreen strongly suspected her captor was enjoying herself, reveling in the challenge of handling a healthy, fit, well-motivated target with consummate skill and minimal difficulty.

The final result found Noreen stringently tied to the chair.  Her arms were no longer bent and raised behind her back (for which the relevant joints were very grateful), but were behind the chair back and lashed together and to the wooden slats and back of the seat at the shoulders, elbows, forearms.  Her wrists, hands, fingers, and thumbs were also bound.  Her torso was also snugly tied to the chair-back, with ropes above, below, and between her breasts, around her waist, and around her upper thighs.  Her legs were spread with her mid-thighs lashed to the seat and her lower legs and ankles tied to the front chair-legs.  Her heels were off the floor with her feet resting on the balls of her feet and her big-toes lashed to the base of the chair-legs.  All of her bonds were well-cinched and tight enough to dimple her skin.  Even though the chair wasn't attached to the floor, nothing Noreen could do caused it to more than shake back and forth a little.  With concentrated effort she might have been able to tip herself over and land on the carpeted floor with a muffled thud, but that would only increase her discomfort.  It was the same old story.  Weak, pathetic squirming and wiggling were possible, but escape remained a fantasy.

"Almost finished," the blonde purred, then returned to the duffle for a roll of the silver-gray duct-tape she'd used before.  Gathering and holding Noreen's red curls atop her head, the blonde took several taut, tight, overlapping turns of duct tape completely around Noreen's lower head and face, covering her already stuffed and medical-taped mouth.  She then released Noreen's hair, sliced off the tape, folded and pocketed her knife, and returned the duct-tape to the duffle.

Noreen shook the ginger curls from her once again thoroughly gagged face, and glared at her masked captor.

"You are a spirited one, aren't you?" the blonde chuckled.  "Terrified for yourself and your little ducklings, totally confused about what's happening and why... and yet, you have spirit.  Beautiful, strong, and helpless.  This is working out even better than I'd hoped.  I'm having a blast."

And with that, the blonde picked up her duffle-bag, turned, and strode from the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Noreen blinked her green eyes at the closed door for several seconds... then began twisting, turning, and fighting her tight bonds with all her strength.  Actually, given the quantity and quality of her bonds, her efforts were little more than wiggling and jerking against the ropes.  The chair did little more than quiver, and she found she wasn't in danger of tipping herself over.

Finally, Noreen stopped struggling, made a halfhearted attempt to shake the red curls from her face, heaved a gagged sigh... and concentrated on trying not to weep.

Meanwhile, back at the pergola, Caitlyn and Erika were suffering.  Every muscle and joint in their bodies ached, their calf muscles were threatening to cramp, and their shoulders were on fire.  Fortunately (perhaps), their clover-clamped nipples were more-or-less numb.  All they could do was stand (meaning hang in semi-suspension) by their strappado bonds, ignore the pain in their feet, and remain up on their toes and the balls of their feet.

Their gags made conversation impossible, but they were still able to encourage for each other.  The sisters had always been close, so each was as worried about the other as they were themselves.  This helped bolster their waning strength, at least a little, but how long could they last?  How long before their muscles did, indeed cramp, failed them completely, and they found themselves hanging in their bonds in true agony?

Just then, they heard a distant, angry mewling noise from the direction of the house.  The sisters turned their gagged and hair-tied heads as best they could (ignoring their complaining scalps) and beheld the spectacle of a naked and very tied up Crystal hopping around the pool in their direction and accompanied by their captors, the blonde and brunette in the black outfits and masks.  The brunette had a black duffle-bag slung across her back.

Crystal was naked (of course), and bound in an elaborate web of hemp rope from her shoulders to her ankles and gagged with silver duct-tape, in the same manner as the suffering sisters.  As Crystal and the kidnappers drew closer, they could make out more and more details of their friend's bondage, and by the time they reached the dappled shade of the pergola, the sisters had the full story.

Crystal's bonds weren't just hemp.  Her fingers and hands were mummified by taut, neat, overlapping bands of silver duct-tape.  In addition, her arms were folded behind her back and mummified in more taut, neat, overlapping bands of tape.  The tape alone rendered her fingers and arms useless, but then there was the hemp.

Neat bands of rope yoked Crystal's shoulders, passed above and below her breasts, pinning her upper-arms to her sides, then encircling her waist and diving between her legs.  All of the bonds were interlaced and cinched tight, rendering the individual elements an integrated whole.  Finally, horizontal, cinched bands of hemp bound her legs together at mid-thighs, above and below her knees, mid-lower-legs, and ankles.

Hopping was Crystal's only means of locomotion (not counting dropping to the ground and wiggling like a worm).  Slow, humiliating, and tiring?  Yes, but her masked captors were giving her no choice.  They had a rope looped around her neck and with the blonde in the lead holding one end and the brunette bringing up the rear and holding the other.  Crystal had no choice but to hop, and hop she did, her tousled black curls fluttering and rope-framed breasts bobbing with every effort.

And finally... she arrived.  She stared at her ginger friends' predicament, then turned her gagged face to the blonde's mask and glared.

The blonde's eerily expressionless mask returned Crystal's withering gaze for several seconds... then she handed her end of the tethering rope to her companion in crime.

"I suppose you're right," the blonde purred, then stepped around Caitlyn and Erika, positioned herself so she was facing Crystal and her brown-haired handler... then, without any sort of warning, reached out with both hands and released Caitlyn's left nipple-clamp and Erika's right nipple-clamp!

"MRRRR!" both red-haired sisters screamed.

"Mrf!" Crystal added, continuing to glare.

"You could have let them know those things hurt like hell when they come off," the brunette observed.  Like the blonde, her voice was electronically altered.

"Yes," the blonde agreed, "I suppose I could have."  She then released the remaining two nipple-clamps.

More-or-less forewarned, the sisters limited their reactions to delicate shudders.  Crystal continued her angry stare.

"She's a feisty one," the brunette chuckled, giving Crystal's leash a tug.

"Just the way you like 'em," the blonde stated.  "Bring her here."

The brunette led Crystal under the pergola, the brunette unslung her duffle-bag, dropped it to the ground, unzipped the main compartment, and the masked duo set to work.




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