by Van ©2017
		Chapter 7

FOUR DAYS LATER
OPAL HANOVER'S APARTMENT

---

"They didn't!" Opal gasped.

"They did!" Daphne confirmed.  "It was horrid."

Opal and Daphne had just finished an excellent dinner of mixed salad and whole wheat linguine with basil, bacon, and shrimp.  They were at the small dining table, enjoying the last of an excellent (but reasonably priced) bottle of Pinot Grigio.

"For how long?" Opal demanded.

Daphne took a sip of wine before answering, fortifying herself before continuing the story of her horrific ordeal.  "Forever and ever!" she said, then took another sip.  "Nearly two minutes."

Her glass halfway to her mouth, Opal paused and locked eyes with her guest.  "Two minutes?" she drawled.

"At least," Daphne confirmed, "and after my feet..."  A delicate shudder shook her frame.  "...they tickled my ribs!"

Opal was unimpressed.  "Horrid.  Two more minutes?"

"At least!" Daphne confirmed.  "And after that, they tickled my feet a second time!"

"Two more minutes?" Opal inquired.

"Yes!"  Daphne shuddered, again.  "Actually, I may have rounded up a tad.  The entire ordeal probably lasted a total of five minutes.  Maybe four."

"Oh, boo-hoo, you little wimp," Opal chuckled.

"Oh, I like that!" Daphne gasped in outrage.  "And I suppose you've never been tickled."

"Adept as I am at Hatha and the important precepts of Kundalini," Opal said with great solemnity, "I'm able to divorce trivial physical sensations from by spiritual core."

Daphne rolled her eyes.  "Of course you can."  Opal was the Harper-Ricci family's most experienced yogi, despite being younger that Leah and Kate and only slightly older than her fellow workers.  Scout, Erin, and Daphne deferred to the gorgeous little blonde on all matters yoga.  "Anyway," Daphne said primly, "it was horrid."

Opal grinned.  "And then they untied you and kicked you out?"

"No, actually," Daphne said quietly.  "They untied my ankles and knees, helped me use the bathroom, and I stayed the night.  We shared the bed."

Opal raised an eyebrow.

Daphne blushed.  "It's a big bed.  Anyway, nothing happened... not while I was awake, anyway."

"What a shame," Opal chuckled.

Daphne's response was a wounded stare.  Also, her blush deepened.  She heaved a sigh, took her hostess' plate and stacked it atop her own, gathered the dirty flatware, and headed for the kitchen.

Opal followed with the empty salad and pasta bowls, the wineglasses, empty bottle, and napkins.

Daphne was wearing a pair of heather-gray spandex tights and an oatmeal-tan, French-cut T-shirt over a gray sports bra.  Her hostess was in a red, very pretty sleeveless dress.

"Are you sure you want to skip directly to advanced techniques?" Daphne inquired as they did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen.

"I'll let you handle the bulk of the rope training," Opal said, "but we all agreed that I should concentrate on the meditation aspects.  To do that, I need to explore what you call  'advanced techniques' to see if they present any meditative challenges I've not already explored.  Should we use my bedroom, as you did with the lovebirds?"

Daphne smiled (in a slightly sinister manner).  "Very well."  She indicated Opal's red dress.  "You'll have to change."

Opal strolled towards her bedroom, unzipping her dress as she went.

Daphne retrieved her day-pack from beside the front door and followed... then paused in the bedroom doorway.  Opal had peeled out of her dress and was removing a pair of thong panties.  She wasn't wearing a bra.  A shiver of... objective appreciation... rippled down Daphne's spine and quivered between her legs.  As always, Opal Hanover's petite body was exquisitely fit, her skin firm, smooth, and tan, her figure ideally proportioned, her breasts round and full without being pendulous, and her features classically beautiful.  She was perfect.

Opal dropped the thong in her laundry hamper, hung the dress from a hanger in her closet, then turned to Daphne.  "What?" she demanded with a smile, standing perfectly nude (and perfect in every way) beside her neatly made bed.

"Nothing," Daphne said, then hid her blushing cheeks by turning, unzipping her pack, and extracting a coil of rope.  "So..." she said as she unhitched the coil, shook it out, and prepared it for use.  "Any pose ideas?"

Still smiling, Opal pursed her lips in thought.  "Hmm..."  She padded to a small reading desk and returned with an iPad.
 
Daphne watched as Opal tapped the screen, slid her finger, negotiated her way to a web site, then held the iPad so Daphne could see the screen.  She found herself staring at photographs of a very fit and undeniably beautiful woman in what Daphne considered to be an extreme yoga pose.  Oh-by-the-way, whoever she might be, the model/yogi was naked... like Opal.

"Nidrasana," Opal said, smiling brightly, "the 'sleeping yogi'."

Daphne was dubious.  "The sleeping yogi," she drawled, then focused on Opal.  "Do you sleep like that?"  The model was lying on her back with her legs lifted into as extreme a crunch as was humanly possible.  Her ankles were crossed behind her head!  Also, her arms were wrapped around her thighs, her fingers touched at the base of her spine, and her armpits were tucked against the backs of her knees.

Daphne was fit, but the least experienced yogi in the Harper-Ricci family.  She figured she might be able to manage the nidrasana pose as depicted, but suspected she wouldn't be nearly as relaxed and serene as the model in the photos, nor would she be able to maintain the asana for very long before being forced to adopt a decidedly less pretzel-like pose.  However, Daphne wasn't Opal.

Daphne focused on her naked hostess.  "Are you completely insane?" she demanded.

"No," Opal chuckled.  "It's a meditative pose."

"Seriously?" Daphne demanded.

"Seriously," Opal nodded.  Her smile never wavered.

Daphne returned to gazing at the photos, then reached out and took the iPad from Opal's hands.  She began tapping the screen, enlarging each of the shots of the pose with an eye towards rope placement.  "I think this is possible."  She handed the iPad back to her hostess, who turned it off and returned it to the desk.  "Okay, on the bed."

"Yes, Rope Mistress," Opal chuckled, then flopped onto her bed and flowed into the nidrasana pose with her characteristic fluid grace.

Daphne sighed.  Opal made it look so easy.  It was depressing.  And hot, Daphne mused.  Rope in hand, she stepped forward and went to work. The smiling Brit used all four coils of the conditioned hemp rope in her day-pack, crafting bonds that were neat and efficient and locked Opal into the pose, but weren't especially elaborate or excessive (in Daphne's humble opinion).

She used one coil to bind Opal's wrists behind her back, but seven or eight inches apart.  A dozen strands encircled each wrist, with multiple tight loops wrapped around the ropes in between.  The result was something like a pair of rope shackles or even stocks.  The most important virtue of the tie—aside from being inescapable—was its comfort.  The ropes wouldn't tighten or pinch Opal's wrists, even if she chose to struggle, which, at least for the moment, she did not.

Daphne used her second coil to lash Opal's bound wrists to the foot of the bed, and in the process discovered she needed the entire coil to accomplish the task.  Opal's bed was a low, Modern-style platform bed with a rectangular frame, multiple slats to support the mattress and box spring, and six short, stubby legs, one at each corner and the midpoints on either side.  She looped and cinched a lark's head around the center of Opal's wrist bonds, passed the doubled rope down and around the left lower foot of the bed frame, across and around the right foot, up to Opal's wrist bonds, then straight down the mattress to the center of the rope between the frame's legs, and heaved.  The two diagonal and one vertical pairs of rope tightened until they dimpled the edge of the mattress and she tied a redundant knot.

Daphne used her third coil to lash Opal's crossed ankles together behind her head, then her fourth and final coil to lash Opal's ankle-bonds to the upper frame in the same manner she'd lashed her wrists-bonds to the lower.  The final result was Opal Hanover flat on her back on her bed in the nidrasana pose and bound in place.

Daphne smiled and stood at the foot of the bed, gazing down at Opal's smiling face (as well as her breasts and fully exposed and very vulnerable pussy).  The blonde's boobs were slightly flattened by gravity, but with sufficient volume to still qualify as magnificent, and her labia were... pretty... like an exotic orchid.

Daphne continued gazing at her naked, helpless friend.  "Well?" she said, finally.

"Well what?" Opal answered.

Daphne rolled her eyes.  "A courtesy struggle would be polite."

"Courtesy struggle?" Opal chuckled.

"Try and escape," Daphne said.  "It's expected."

"Oh, I see," Opal giggled.  She tugged on her wrist bonds, then wiggled her bound ankles.  "I take it there's a protocol to this sort of thing?"

Daphne blushed and mentally kicked herself.  Bondage Meditation did not require courtesy struggles.  She was letting her "hobby interests" erode her professionalism.  "It's optional," she said quietly, "meaning courtesy struggles."

"I see," Opal said with a dimpled grin.

A thrill rippled through Daphne's crotch, which she carefully suppressed.  Opal looked so beautiful... all naked and contorted and tied down.  So.  Beautiful.

"Well," Opal said, smiling at Daphne, "I suppose I should meditate awhile.  Why don't you watch TV or read or something for... half an hour?"

Daphne's smile turned coy.  "Or a full hour," she suggested, then turned and headed for the bedroom door.  "Bye," she said brightly, then closed the door.  I am such a tosser, she mused as she flopped down onto Opal's couch, just like the lovebirds said.

Daphne didn't feel like watching TV.  Daphne didn't feel like doing much of anything.  She found herself somewhat agitated... excited... horny.

It was how she'd felt after pranking Scout and Erin by taping their mouths and making them untie each other to (supposedly) determine their top/bottom status... horny.

That was how she felt... but she didn't dare feel herself.  That is, she didn't dare do anything physical to relieve her agitation/excitement/horniness.  If she masturbated, she was sure it would be abundantly obvious when she went back into the bedroom.  Opal was a very discerning person, what with her advanced yoga training and all.  Yes, Opal was discerning.  Also... naked and bound in the nidrasana position on her own bed... Opal was hot!

Daphne didn't have a thing for Opal.  Not really.  So, the blonde cutie was hot.  So what?  They were all hot.  Everybody at work was hot, including most of their customers.  So why was Opal making Daphne feel all hot and bothered now?  She heaved a sigh of tragic proportions.

It wasn't fair.  As far as Daphne could tell, Opal was hot and not bothered.  She was naked, helpless, and hot!  ...but not bothered.  Daphne knew it was true.  For the junior staff, yoga was all about fitness.  Only Opal was into the meditative aspects with any degree of depth.  Only Opal could ignore the simmering (or roiling) eroticism of what was happening.

Daphne's eyes strayed to Opal's bookshelf, then climbed to her feet and padded to the rows of volumes.  There were several with titles including the words "meditation," "consciousness," or "enlightenment," as well as a lot of anglicized Sanskrit.  She selected a book at random and started turning pages... then perused a second... and a third.  She then heaved a sigh and returned to the couch.  Daphne wasn't in the mood for enlightenment.  Daphne was in the mood for nookie.

Daphne glanced at the digital clock on Opal's DVR/cable-box.  Only twenty-something minutes had passed since she's abandoned Opal to her naked and contorted fate, but she decided enough was enough.  She'd never had any intention of leaving Opal in the nidrasana position for a full hour.  Daphne had been teasing... teasing the hot, naked blonde cutie tied to her bed.

Daphne eased opened the bedroom door and froze in place, her heart hammering and her breath coming in quiet pants.  Opal was sooooo beautiful.  She was also exactly as Daphne had left her, which was hardly surprising.  The blonde's eyes were closed and her features relaxed, as if she was asleep.  Her tan, smooth skin wasn't glistening with sweat, nor was a single hair of her ponytail out of place.  Opal was not hot and bothered.

"I believe you're a little early," Opal said quietly, her eyes still closed.

So, meditating; not sleeping, Daphne thought.  "Early?  I must have noted the start time incorrectly," she posited (lied).

"I see," Opal purred.

Daphne eyed Opal's helpless form.  "So... this really is a meditative asana."  It was a statement, not a question.

"With experience," Opal smiled.

Daphne was still gazing at Opal's body, especially her thighs.  "I love your skin," she said quietly.

"I love your skin, too, Daph," Opal replied.

"Posh," Daphne scoffed.  "I'm pale as milk.  You always have such a gorgeous tan."

"I love the little dusting of tiny freckles you get during the summer," Opal said with a grin.

"Spots," Daphne huffed.  "I hate my spots."

"I love your 'spots'," Opal purred.  "We all do."

"Erin and Scout?" Daphne demanded.  "You lot talk about my spots behind my back?  I like that."  She wasn't really angry... or offended.  Actually, she was flattered.  (She was also blushing.)  Daphne placed her right palm on Opal's right thigh.  "Anyway, your skin is smooth.  That's a fact."  She slowly slid her hand up and down, caressing about six or seven inches of the smooth skin in question... then realized what she was doing.

"Oh!  Sorry!" Daphne gasped and withdrew her hand as if she'd touched the proverbial hot stove.

"That's okay," Opal said quietly.  She was still smiling.

Daphne was now blushing furiously, but covered her flustered state (however poorly) with a wounded pout.  "You really are an adept yogi, impervious to all physical sensation, aren't you?" she demanded, then locked eyes with Opal.  "Sorry," she said in a whisper.

Opal's smile never wavered.  "I have no choice but to be impervious," she chuckled.  "You couldn't have tied me up any better.  I can barely move."

"Yes," Daphne agreed.  Her smile returned, and this time it was unmistakably mischievous. "I do regret not bringing more rope."

"More rope?" Opal demanded with a nervous giggle.  "What could you possibly do with more rope?"

"Well," Daphne grinned, "I'd start by tying a kimono harness."  She noted Opal's puzzled expression.  "A kimono harness can be simple or complex," she lectured, and began touching Opal's skin with her right index finger as she indicated the placement of the hypothetical enhanced bondage.  "The upper torso is bound, above or below the breasts, or both, and the shoulders yoked by passing cinched ropes under the armpits and against the nape of the neck.  Other ropes can be added that also yoke the shoulders and squeeze the breast ropes together.  Also..."  Daphne gently gripped Opal's left breast and indicated the base with her finger.  "Rope can be wrapped completely around the breast and tightened, especially with nice generous breasts, like yours."

"How does that make the bondage more restrictive?" Opal inquired in a near whisper.  Daphne's smile was absolutely evil, with dimples.  (It was also agonizingly adorable, in Opal's humble opinion.)

"Oh, it doesn't," Daphne purred, "but it makes the breasts bulge like pink balloons.  I'm not talking about really tight ropes, of course.  That would make them purple.  I don't especially care for purple."  She released Opal's breast.

"I see," Opal said.  "Come to think of it, I've never seen you wear purple."

"Never," Daphne shook her head.  "Purple is for old ladies.  Anyway," she continued, "I'd loop your ankle ropes through the harness ropes at the nape of your neck before lashing you to the upper bed-frame,  That way the kimono-harness would share the tension."

"That's all?" Opal asked.

"Oh, no," Daphne giggled.  "I'd lash your upper arms to their respective thighs, cinching the ropes in between, and use the free ends to lash you to the respective side-rails of the bed-frame.  That way you wouldn't be able to rock to the left or right."

"I can just barely do that now," Opal objected.

"And after I was finished," Daphne purred, "you'd be able to do so even less."

"Well then," Opal sighed.  "Thank god you don't have a larger backpack."

"I'm not finished," Daphne purred.  She was still smiling.

"Yes?"

"I'd gag you."

Opal swallowed nervously (just a little)  "Gag?"

Daphne nodded.  "I'd start with stuffing of some sort.  When did you last do laundry?"

"What?"

"I'd use three or four of your thongs," Daphne explained, "or possibly a pair of rolled anklets.  Dirty, of course?"

"D-dirty?" Opal demanded.

"It would be a shame to ruin clean thongs or anklets," Daphne explained.  "You'd have to wash them again.  Anyway, I'd stuff your mouth to capacity, then use a few strands of rope wrapped around your head and ankle bonds to keep them there, followed by a nice wide strip of Elastoplast tape."

Opal's eyes were wide.  "But... why?"

A thrill rippled through Daphne's lady bits.  Opal was absolutely scrumptious like this.  "It would help you focus," she said.  "I was looking in your books.  Ignoring the distractions of the body is difficult.  If you knew you were not only naked and totally helpless, but unable to call for help or even beg for mercy.  You'd have no choice but to focus."

"At least I've finally got you thinking in terms of the meditative aspects of all this," Opal sighed.  "But why would I need mercy?"

Daphne's smile widened and became actually more evil (and adorable).  She lifted her day-pack onto the bed, unzipped the front pouch, and pulled out a rolled bandana.  She placed the bandana on the bed, returned the pack to the floor, then unrolled the blue and white patterned cloth.

Opal couldn't see much of what Daphne was doing, of course, but she could see the two objects the grinning Brit held up for her inspection, one in each hand, and her blue eyes popped wide in reaction!  She was staring at a pair of gray feathers!

"Goose feathers!" Daphne said proudly as she twirled the feathers.  "I found them at a craft store."  She locked eyes with her hostess.  "And can you guess what else I found there?"

"W-what?" Opal stammered.

Daphne returned the feathers to the unfurled bandana and held up what appeared to me a metal fork.  It was gunmetal gray and its three narrow tines were bent ninety degrees.  "Do you know what it is?" she purred.

"Just tell me," Opal huffed.

"It's made for tending Bonsai trees," Daphne explained.  "It's a tiny little rake.  Isn't that clever?"

"Genius," Opal responded.

Daphne turned the rake in her hand, just as she'd twirled the feathers, and noted how Opal's anxious blue eyes followed the blue-gray tines.  "You're just as ticklish as the rest of us mere mortals," she said quietly, "aren't you, Opal Hanover?"

"Yes," Opal admitted, "but the difference is, I can rise above it."

"Oh, darling," Daphne chuckled.  "Now you claim you can levitate?"

Opal didn't answer.  She stopped staring at the rake and locked eyes with her devilishly cute (and generally devilish) guest.

"Sorry, darling," Daphne giggled.  "I know you aren't really claiming you can levitate.  Besides, I have you tied down, haven't I?"

Opal returned to staring at the rake.

Smiling and biting her lower lip in concentration, Daphne slowly reached out and lightly dragged the rake's tines down the length of Opal's right upper thigh.

"I do believe I saw a slight shiver," Daphne purred.  "I may have been mistaken.  Further experimentation is required."

Opal didn't respond (although there might have been a ghost of a smile curling her lips).

Still smiling her dimpled smile, Daphne began slowly drawing the tines up and down the smooth, tan skin of Opal's right thigh... then did the same to the naked, helpless blonde's left thigh... then her right thigh, again... then her left thigh, again... drawing closer and closer to Opal's labia with each languid pass.

"I must say," Daphne purred, "I am most impressed with your stoicism, asceticism, and... restraint?"  She continued using the rake.  Now, she was very close to Opal's labia.  She made three more agonizingly slow, lambent passes, then heaved a theatrical sigh and returned the rake to the open bandana.  "The proverbial tough nut to crack."  She then lifted one of the goose feathers so Opal could see it.

Again, Opal was the very picture of composure (gorgeous, attractive, and possibly smiling composure).

Daphne sighed, again, then her smile returned.  "You give me no choice."  She began using the blade of the feather in much the same manner as she'd used the Bonsai rake, only this time her target was Opal's labia!

"A veritable rock," Daphne sighed as she continued dragging the feather slowly up and down Opal's labia.  Pass followed pass followed pass.  Then, the dimples of Daphne's smile deepened.  "Oh... here we go.  I do believe I see a delicate blush."  She continued stroking the crinkled folds of pink flesh.  "Yesssss," she sighed, "it's unmistakable.  A flower is blossoming."

A hypothetical objective observer would have to agree.  Opal's labia were now flushed and glistening.  Her expression was unchanged, but clearly, Daphne's feather was evoking a physiological reaction.

"Very interesting," Daphne giggled, then lifted her sparkling eyes to Opal's breasts.  "I wonder..."  She leaned forward and used the feather to tease Opal's left nipple... then her right nipple... then her left.  Both nubbins flushed a darker shade of pink and slowly grew erect.  "Yesssss.  You're certainly further along in denying the needs of the body than Scout, Erin, or myself... but you aren't quite there yet, are you, darling?"

"Bite me," Opal said through clenched teeth.

Daphne giggled in response, then returned to stroking Opal's labia with the feather.  "Bite you?" she said in a near whisper.  "I have no intention of biting you.  However..."  She continued teasing Opal's pussy.  "I suppose I could try something else."  She smiled at Opal's now unmistakably smiling (and slightly glistening) face.  "With your permission?"

"How can I stop you?" Opal demanded, still through clenched teeth.

Daphne shook her head.  "Answer me.  With.  Your.  Permission."

The tan blonde and pale brunette locked eyes.  Then, slowly, Opal nodded.

Daphne returned the feather to the bandana, then spread Opal's labia with the fingers of both hands... licked her lips... then leaned forward and gave Opal's pussy a delicate, kittenish stroke with her tongue.  Her brown eyes remained locked with Opals' blue eyes.  She dragged her tongue the length of Opal's labia, again, then used its tip to flick against Opal's clitoris.

Opal gasped in response.  Her facade was finally cracking.

Daphne continued probing, thrusting, and flicking her tongue.  She also used her fingers and hands to squeeze Opal's breasts and tease and tug on her nipples.  This continued for some time.

Finally, her tan skin flushed and glowing with perspiration, Opal's body tensed in her contorted pose... and she shivered in orgasm.  Somehow, she'd retained enough yoga-enhanced self-control to remain silent.  Either that or she wasn't a screamer.

ABOUT TWO HOURS LATER
STILL IN OPAL'S BEDROOM

---

Opal and Daphne were sharing the bed.  Both were naked, shining with sweat, and basking in the afterglow of several orgasms (crashing and otherwise). as well as a great deal of what Daphne would call "snogging" and Opal either "making out" or "sucking face".  One of them was tied up; however, it wasn't Opal.

Daphne had finally released Opal from her nidrasana bondage, and to her amazement, the naked blonde seemed to have suffered absolutely zero ill effects.  Once untied, Opal executed a luxurious full-body stretch, but she always did that after a prolonged meditative session.

"One would think you'd have the common decency to at least act a little stiff," Opal huffed, "or something."

Opal's only response was to smile.  And then... she pounced!

Giggling and protesting, Daphne fought like the proverbial tiger (specifically, the proverbial playful tiger cub) when Opal grabbed her, shoved her down onto the bed, and peeled her out of her t-shirt, tights, sports bra, and bikini panties.  Luckily (or possibly because Daphne was pulling her punches) none of the garments were ripped or even stretched out of shape.  And then, Opal demonstrated a hitherto unsuspected competence in the art of placing wiggling, giggling, naked damsels into inescapable bondage.

"You lied to me!" Daphne wailed as the ropes tightened.  She was face down on the bed with Opal astride her back and crafting a kimono-tie harness, and now—"Ow!"—her captor was making it a "sadistic" kimono-tie by lifting Daphne's crossed wrists and lashing them to the back of the torso-harness.  "You don't need lessons in bondage."

"There's always something new to learn," Opal chuckled.

"How much do you know?" Daphne pouted as the final knot was tied, well beyond the reach of her groping hands and fluttering fingers.

Opal flipped Daphne onto her back (and bound wrists), then settled back down astride her tummy before answering.  "My brothers and their playmates had very active fantasy lives while we were growing up.  My girlfriends and I became very familiar with the plight of the various stereotypical damsels-in-distress."

"But no formal training?" Daphne demanded.

"Of course not," Opal responded, then cupped Daphne's breasts and gently squeezed.  "That's what you're here to do... among other things."

Daphne's wounded pout morphed into a dimpled smile.  "Well then, as your teacher I order you to release me immediately."  A delicate shiver shook her naked body.  "And stop playing with my Bristols."

"Your what?" Opal giggled.

"Knockers, boobs, titties, breasts!" Daphne huffed.  "Stop!"

Opal grinned, and did not stop.  "As your teacher in meditation," she purred.  "I'm most disappointed in your lack of self-control, the way you're responding to my... instruction.  I fear a great deal of remedial training will be required."

Daphne bit her lower lip, another shiver shook her body, and she tugged on her bound wrists.  "At least I'll be able to skip forward to advanced techniques," she sighed.  "You seem to have a firm grasp of the fundamentals of rope bondage."

Opal gave Daphne's "Bristols" a particularly firm squeeze.  "Why, thank you.  It's good to know that all those hours my brothers left me tied to trees, chairs, and support columns in various backyards, playrooms, basements, and attics have finally paid off."

At that point, all pretense of instruction was abandoned and the serious snogging and face-sucking commenced... which led to shagging and boinking.

Finally, exhausted, panting, and shining with sweat, the lovers lay still.  Opal's arms embraced her guest, and Daphne almost certainly would have returned the favor if she wasn't still tied up.

Minutes passed.

"Opal," Daphne said quietly, "untie me."

Opal didn't answer immediately.  Her eyes were closed and her breathing deep and even.

"Opal," Daphne said again, then squirmed in Opal's arms.  "Don't you dare fall asleep!  Untie me."

Opal opened one eye and smiled.  "Gotcha," she giggled, then rolled Daphne onto her stomach, straddled her waist, and began untying her guest's bonds.

"Finally," Daphne sighed as the ropes loosened and slithered away.  "You're a beastly person," she muttered as Opal tossed the rope away, climbed off the pouting Brit, lay prone, and embraced her again.  "Absolutely dreadful," Daphne huffed as she returned the embrace and kissed her hostess.

Opal returned the kiss... then broke away.  "Sleep," she sighed.

Daphne sighed as well.  "Brilliant."

They were both asleep in seconds.  Class was over.