by Van ©2019
		Chapter 7

Gwyn had just placed her hand on the knob of her bedroom door and was about to give it a turn―"Hisss!"―when she heard a snake-like sound emanate from somewhere behind her back.  She turned to find Mandy and Penny creeping towards her down the semi-dark hallway in an overtly clandestine and naked manner.  She didn't know which of her friends had made the serpentine remark, but it was Penny who spoke next.

"We need to talk to you," the stealthy blonde whispered.

The equally stealthy ginger nodded in agreement.

"Uh, okay," Gwyn responded.  "What about?  Hey!"  Her clothing challenged friends had caught up with her and were bodily forcing her through the now open door and into her bedroom.  "No need to―Mrrrpfh!"

Suddenly, Mandy had decided to do her best Rada imitation!  That is, the slightly taller ginger was pinning the slightly shorter Gwyn's arms behind her back with her lightly-freckled left arm while clamping her lightly-freckled right hand over Gwyn's confused (and amused) mouth!  Gwyn stamped a sneaker-clad foot in a show of irritation―"Mrrrk!"―but decided not to struggle.
 
Meanwhile, Penny made sure the bedroom door was solidly closed, then turned and smiled at Gwyn and her redheaded captor.  "Okay, now we can talk."

Gwyn blinked her blue eyes.  "Mrrrk?"

Penny shifted her blue eyes to Mandy and gave her a significant look.

Mandy blinked her green eyes.  "What?"  She then smiled, gave a slightly chagrined shrug, and released her hand-gag.

"Well?" Gwyn huffed.  "Go ahead and talk, already."

"First things first," Penny purred.  "Do you have any rope?"

"Rope?"  Gwyn blinked in surprise.  "No.  Why should I have―Mrrrf!"  Mandy's hand-gag was back in place, sealing her lips.

"Liar," Mandy accused, then nodded towards Gwyn's titanic bed.  "Right nightstand.  Bottom drawer."

"Mrrrm!" Gwyn complained as Mandy dragged her towards the titanic bed in question.

Penny scampered ahead and pulled open the drawer in question.  "Eureka!" she proclaimed, and started pulling out neatly bundled coils of black, ¼" (6 mm), hemp rope, and tossing them on the neatly made bed.  "How did you know?"

"She has a stash like that in her bedroom back at the townhouse," Mandy explained.

"Oh."  Penny then shifted to her most sinister smile, padded forward, and began unbuttoning Gwyn's blouse.

Gwyn stared daggers at Penny, but still didn't put up a fight.  She'd been wearing the same sneakers, anklets, jeans, blouse, bra, and panties she'd worn to the pizza feast down in the informal dining room, but all too soon... she wasn't.  Her entire ensemble lay in a rumpled pile on the floor and now the bedroom had three naked occupants.

Penny selected a bundle of black hemp rope, released the retaining hitch and doubled the coil to find the center, readying it for use in the traditional manner.

Mandy released her hand-gag, again, released Gwyn's elbows as well, then spun the pouting brunette around and held her steady (being the fierce, lightly-freckled, damsel handler and Rada imitator that she was) while Penny set to work.

Again, Gwyn could have struggled, perhaps delivered a swift kick between Mandy's legs, served Penny a knuckle sandwich, and/or generally resisted, but she didn't.  Being a considerate damsel, she'd decided it was time to let her friends have a little fun.  She could continue to pout, of course, and did.

When the metaphorical dust settled, Penny had demonstrated her Advanced Rigging credentials by binding Gwyn in an arms-raised-and-folded-back-behind-her-head-tie.  The neatly stacked, cinched, and hitched bands of black hemp also lashed Gwyn's upper-arms to her wrists and encircled her upper torso from armpit-to-armpit, thus eliminating the possibility of Gwyn somehow ducking her head or hands between her arms and bringing her wrist-bonds within range of her teeth.  Just for purposes of general bitchiness, Penny had included Gwyn's hands and thumbs in the tie.

Mandy and Penny stepped back and watched their friend (and soon to be fellow anti-Rada conspirator) execute the expected and required Courtesy Struggle.

"Oooh!" Gwyn complained, then focused her ire on Penny.  "Really?  My thumbs?"

Penny smiled and shrugged.  "You can never be too careful."  She turned to Mandy.  "Don't you agree?"

"Oh, certainly," Mandy nodded.

"Assholes," Gwyn huffed, then resumed struggling.  No weaknesses in Penny's rigging efforts revealed themselves.

"Go use the Little Damsel's Room," Penny ordered, pointing towards the elaborately carved door to the bedroom's attached bath.

"I'll get the door," Mandy offered, then scampered ahead and did so.  The smile on her lightly-freckled face was infuriating... to Gwyn.  Penny thought it was a hoot.

Gwyn stomped (padded) into the bathroom and managed to use the commode and its bidet function without Mandy's help.  Then, she stood perfectly still (and pouted) as Mandy used a scrub-pad and gentle soap to scrub her face.  Mandy also brushed her teeth for her (seeing how she couldn't exactly do it for herself), then escorted her back to the bedroom and towards the bed.

Penny was waiting with more of the black hemp rope at the ready.  Gwyn was encouraged to recline on her bed, meaning she was shoved onto the mattress by her alleged friends.  She landed with a hair-fluttering and boob-wobbling bounce.  Then, Penny lashed each of Gwyn's ankles to their respective thighs in a classic frog-tie.

"Okay, now it's our turn," Penny chuckled, then took Mandy by the hand.  The blonde and ginger padded to the bathroom and completed their evening toilettes.

Alone on the bed, Gwyn decided to continue testing her bonds.  It wasn't a difficult decision.  Anyway, the bonds passed.  Gwyn failed.

Mission complete, Penny and Mandy bounded back into the bedroom and gracefully reclined on the bed.  Mandy was on Gwyn's left and Penny on the naked, helpless, and manifestly disenchanted brunette's right.

"Now then," Penny intoned, "I call this meeting of the Fellowship of the Rope to order.  Mandy giggled.  Even Gwyn couldn't help but smile.  "Do I hear a motion to waive the reading of the minutes of the last meeting?"

"Oh, shut up," Mandy chuckled, then smiled at Gwyn.  "We're going to get the drop on Rada and tie her up for a change.  You in?"

"She better be in," Penny huffed, "or she'll spend the rest of her summer vacation bound and gagged in the back of her closet."

"Hush," Mandy scolded Penny, then refocused on Gwyn.  "Well?"

Gwyn frowned.  "Tie up Rada?  Who are we, the mice debating how to put a bell on the cat?"

Mandy giggled, then planted a kiss on Gwyn's startled lips.  "I said the same thing!"

"Whatever," Penny muttered, rolling her eyes, then directed a grim stare at Gwyn.  "Are.  You.  In?"

"Sure," Gwyn answered.  "She owes me."

"Rada owes all of us," Penny intoned.  "Now... how do we collect?"

"That is the problem," Mandy noted.

The naked trio heaved simultaneous sighs, Penny and Mandy rolled onto their backs, and all three stared up at the vaulted ceiling, far overhead.  Several seconds passed.

"I suppose I could ask Mother," Gwyn said finally.

Penny frowned.  "Ask her what?"

"Ask her if she wants to join the Fellowship?" Mandy suggested.

Gwyn shuddered.  "In the first place, yuk!  In the second place, I'll ask her to order Rada to let us tie her up."

Penny was skeptical.  "That'll work?  It sounds too easy."

Gwyn shrugged (or tried to, anyway).  "It can't hurt to ask.  And Mom doesn't need to know what we'll do to her trainer after we tie her up."

"What will we do to her?" Mandy asked.

"Stuff," Penny and Gwyn answered simultaneously.

Mandy nodded.  "It can't hurt to ask.  You think she'll go for it?"

"Mother or Rada?" Gwyn inquired.

"Both," Mandy and Penny answered simultaneously.

"Probably."  Gwyn sighed.  "Maybe.  It's all I can think of at the moment, anyway.  Okay, I'll ask her."

"It's a deal," Penny nodded.  "I'd suggest we shake on it, but under the circumstances..."

Mandy rolled onto her left side and smiled at her friends.  "We could do something else to seal the deal," she purred.

Penny rolled onto her right side and smiled.  "Such as?"

Mandy demonstrated that despite being lightly-freckled and cute, she was also capable of an evil smile.  "We could offer a sacrifice to... The Great Tickle Monster?"

"What a truly despicable idea," Penny chuckled, then rolled away, reached down, and rummaged in the bottom drawer of the nightstand, once again.

Gwyn tugged on her bonds and glared at Mandy.  "Don't you dare touch me, you―Mrrrfh!"  Penny had rolled back, popped the black, silicon-rubber sphere of a ball-gag in Gwyn's mouth, and with Mandy's help was tightening and buckling the strap at the nape of her neck, under her dark, tousled hair!  Gwyn's wrist/hands/thumbs/upper-arm bonds complicated matters, but an expert rigger like Penny was up to the challenge.  "Mrrrmpfh!"

And then, as if by telepathic agreement, Penny and Mandy each draped a leg across Gwyn's frog-tied legs, splaying them apart and pinning the unhappy brunette in place.

"Mrrrrfk!"  Gwyn continued squirming and twisting, but it was hopeless.  She was helpless.

"I saw some feathers and a wand-style vibrator in the back of the drawer," Penny said.

"There should also be one of those torpedoes with a clit-tickler attachment in there somewhere," Mandy purred.  "It was there last summer, anyway."  Her smile widened and her green eyes sparkled.  "But let's start with our fingers."

Penny smiled back and nodded.  "Okay.  After all, we've got all night.  And I figure whatever Rada has planned for us in the morning, we can catch up on our sleep during the inevitable languishing."  She directed her smiling gaze to Gwyn's pale, smooth, freshly shaved, left armpit.  "Maybe we should call this an 'armpit-tie,'" she suggested.  "The pits are so very vulnerable when a damsel is tied this way."

Mandy's mouth puckered in the cute little pout Penny recognized as her ginger friend's "academic moue," the expression she reserved for pondering weighty problems.

"Hmmm..."  Mandy focused her green eyes on infinity.  "AOH ties expose the armpits," she noted, then shifted her learned gaze to Penny.  "Arms Over Head?"

"I know what AOH means, doofus," Penny muttered.

Mandy's smile returned.  "I've got it!  We can use AOH-dash-SU if the arms are Straight Up, and AOH-dash-BB if they're Bent Back."  Her moue returned.  "Or maybe it should be AOH-dash-EB, for Elbows Bent?  Is that better?  More precise?"  She noticed Penny's unamused, borderline warning stare.  "Armpit-tie it is," she agreed quickly, then focused on Gwyn's semi-desperate, ball-gagged face.  "Agreed?  'Armpit-tie?'"

Gwyn's answer was to continue whining through her gag and tugging on her "armpit-tie" bondage.  What her friends were about to do to her was cruel, wicked, and not at all nice!

"Armpits, boobs, ribs, stomach, thighs, and lady-bits," Penny suggested (ordered).  "But we need to mix things up by constantly choosing different targets.  We don't want to be... symmetrical."

"Oh, certainly not," Mandy agreed.  "Symmetry is boring... and more importantly, predictable.  Asymmetry rules!"

"I'll start with her left pit," Penny purred, "and you start with her right ribs.  After that... we'll play it by ear."

"It's a plan," Mandy agreed.

And the tickling commenced!

"MRRRPFHHH!"

Penny and Mandy had a blast.  As for Gwyn... not so much.  And as to whether or not The Great Tickle Monster accepted their sacrifice and decided to grant her teasing, titillating, and scintillating favor to the Fellowship of the Rope... only time would tell.

Rada was dressed in one of her classic exercise/stalking/kidnapping outfits: sneaker-boots, socks, skintight exercise pants, sports bra, and fleece vest, all in midnight-black.  The nylon duffel holding the morning's required equipment and supplies was slung against her back by its shoulder strap.  The bag was also black.

It was before dawn, but in her current location, the position of the sun relative to the theoretical horizon was irrelevant.  Rada was silently making her way down a perpetually dark, narrow, windowless corridor that was part of Roget Manor's twisting, turning labyrinth of secret passageways.  She wasn't bumping into things for two reasons: (1.) there weren't a lot of "things" to bump into, and (2.) a few photons of light were available, thanks to regularly spaced but widely separated LEDs feebly shining from the ceiling.  She passed alcoves that acted as covert spying stations.  Each had an eye-level peephole, all of which were well camouflaged on the non-secret, "normal" side of the mansion.  Given the manor's over-the-top Gothic decor, hiding peep-holes wasn't exactly a challenge.  Many of the alcoves also included secret and equally well-camouflaged doors.

Rada arrived at the alcove leading to her first destination: the bedroom of Gwyn Roget, her precious little Valp.  She peered through the peephole.  Not all the peepholes in the manor were equipped with built-in low-light cameras, but Gwyn's bedroom peephole was.  Rada's smile widened.  She'd been suddenly reminded of an old adage: no kidnapping plan survives contact with the damsel, or in this case damsels, plural.

All three of Rada's targets―all three of the youngsters―Gwyn, Mandy, and Penny―were lying together on Gwyn's gigantic bed.  Rada liked a good challenge, and while three-against-one were daunting odds, she could clearly see through the light-amplified peephole that Gwyn was prepackaged.  That is, while the bedclothes and her two bedfellows partially obscured Rada's view, she could see that the daughter of the household was bound and gagged!  The odds weren't three-against-one after all, but two-against-one, and the mighty Rada Nørgaard was the one!  No problem.

Rada triggered the latch securing the secret door... eased it open on its silent hinges... crept into the bedroom... then eased the door closed and made sure the latch caught.  She then crept to the bed.  All three targets were fast asleep, including the prepackaged Gwyn... limbs sprawled and bodies intertwined like a trio of slumbering kittens (not counting the bound and gagged Gwyn).  Best to start with Kattunge, the feisty one, Rada decided, eased the duffel off her shoulder, and slowly, silently, opened its main zipper.  She selected a ball-gag (black, silicon-rubber mouth-plug, black leather strap, steel hardware) and a coil of black hemp rope, readied the rope for use... and pounced!

"What the―Hey!"  Penny was rudely awakened by rope tightening around her crossed wrists, behind her back!  She blinked, tossed her head in a vain attempt to free her tousled blond hair from her face, and stared at Mandy.  The redhead was sitting up in bed on the other side of Gwyn.  Penny looked over her shoulder―Rada!―then turned back to Mandy.  "Don't just sit there!" she chided the staring, blinking, obviously still half-awake ginger.  "Jump her!"

"W-what?" Mandy muttered.  She had her own face-blocking hair to deal with.

Meanwhile, Rada had finished binding Penny's crossed wrists and was tightening loops of rope around the squirming little blonde's waist, pinning her bound wrists against the small of her back, just above her pale, firm, dimpled butt.

"Ooooh!" Penny complained, managed to blow an errant lock of hair from her face, and glared at Mandy.  "Do something!  Now!  Mrrrmpfh!"  Rada's ball-gag had cut off whatever else Penny was going to say.  She continued squirming and fighting as Rada parted her hair, pulled the ball-gag's strap tight, and secured its buckle at the nape of her neck.

Rada took a step back and smiled down at the bed.  Penny had rolled onto her side and was staring wickedly sharp but pathetically ineffectual imaginary daggers in her direction.  Gwyn was gagged with a ball-gag, tied with her arms raised and folded back behind her head, and her knees bent and legs frog-tied.  Her blue eyes were wide with alarm.  Mandy was still blinking in sleepy confusion, combing her ginger hair with her lightly-freckled fingers, and showing no signs that she was about to do anything else (like jump the smiling and totally prepared Rada).

"Wise choice, Fox," Rada purred, focusing her smile on Mandy.  She then picked up the duffel, stepped around the bed, dropped the duffel, again, pulled a coil of black rope from the duffel, and prepared it for use.

Mandy scrambled to her feet and took a few slow, barefoot steps away from the bed.  Her green eyes were still blinking and her worried gaze was locked on the approaching predator.  Finally, when Rada loomed close, she heaved a resigned, truly tragic sigh, turned her back, and crossed her wrists at the small of her back.

Her back to the bed, Rada tightened the first loop around Mandy's wrists, then continued binding the distressed but cooperative redhead.  Make that semi-cooperative redhead.  Mandy had tried taking another step away.  "Stand still," Rada ordered, and Mandy contritely padded back. 

(Only later did Rada realize she'd failed to notice the way Mandy had maneuvered her into turning her back on the bed, then continued making herself the full focus of Rada's attention.  Maybe the ginger cutie hadn't been quite as half-awake as she'd seemed at the time.)

Rada finished binding Mandy's crossed wrists with her usual competence and added a belly-rope, just as she had with Penny.  Then, one hand on Mandy's bound hands to make sure she stayed put, Rada stooped and pulled another coil of black rope from the duffel.  She then crafted a figure-eight-upper-body-harness.  It yoked Mandy's shoulders, looped around and met between her lightly-freckled breasts, pinned her upper arms to her sides, tucked under the belly-rope in front, then dove between the fidgeting redhead's labia and butt-cheeks to add a crotch-rope element.  Next, she hitched the rope around Mandy's wrist-bonds, stretched it up to the shoulder-yoke at the nape of the redhead's neck, and pulled out the slack.

"Eeep!"  This elicited a squeal and a delicate shudder from the ginger captive.

Rada tied the final knot and Mandy's upper-body-bonds were now a flesh-dimpling, inescapable, unified whole.  She admired her work for a few seconds, then pulled another coil of black rope from the duffel and turned back to the bed, intending to amplify and enhance Penny's wrist-and-belly-bonds in exactly the same manner.

There was only one problem: Penny was gone!  Gwyn was alone on the bed!  And oh-by-the-way, the bedroom door that led to the hallway and the rest of the mansion was ajar! 

Rada's cute little bound and gagged Kattunge had flown the coop!  Vamoosed!  Scrammed!  Skedaddled!  Absconded with herself!

Rada heaved a sigh, then her smile returned.  The manor's sophisticated security system was armed, meaning all the exterior doors―front, side, back, patio, pool, etc., etc.―were physically locked and were being electronically monitored, inside and out.  If any naked, bound, and ball-gagged fugitives tried rattling one of the doorknobs, the iPhone in Rada's vest pocket would inform her instantly and tell her exactly where the event was happening.  Penny would not be escaping from the mansion, and Rada had plenty of time to tie up the loose end in Gwyn's bedroom.

"On the bed, Fox," Rada ordered, and Mandy―the loose end in question―padded to the bed and flopped down.

"Oh!  Hey!  Rada!  No!  Don't!  Rada!"

Rada had arranged Mandy on her stomach with her sputtering, protesting head directly between Gwyn's frog-tied legs!  There was a flurry of tightening rope, cinches tightened and knots were tied, and Mandy found herself hogtied with her ankles crossed, knees splayed, and her face uncomfortably close to Gwyn's crotch!  Rada had also hitched Mandy's upper-body-bonds through Gwyn's frog-tie-bonds, thus making sure the captives couldn't squirm apart!

At the moment, Mandy was managing to keep her face hovering above Gwyn's pussy, but only by straining her neck muscles.  If she relaxed, her nose would rest in Gwyn's dark, curly, neatly trimmed pubic bush and her lips would be against her friend's labia!

Gwyn squirmed (carefully).  Mandy squirmed (carefully).  Rada smiled (gloatingly) and zipped closed the zipper of her duffel and slung it across her back.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," The tall Norwegian purred, then spun on her heel and exited the bedroom.  Rada had a fugitive to recapture.  This was turning out to be an especially fun morning!

Gwyn and Mandy heard the click as the bedroom door's lock engaged.  Mandy stared up across Gwyn's tummy and breasts, Gwyn stared down across her breasts and tummy at Mandy, and their blue and green eyes locked.

Mandy swallowed, nervously.  "Ya think she knows about us?"

"Mrrrf!" Gwyn replied.  ("How the hell would I know?")

"I mean, we're careful," Mandy continued, "or try to be, but ya think she knows?"

Gwyn rolled her eyes and heaved a ball-gagged sigh.

"My neck is getting sore," Mandy stated.

"Mrrrf!" Gwyn warned.  ("Don't you dare!")

Mandy heaved a sigh (stirring a few curls of Gwyn's dark bush).  "It's not like any of this is my fault," she muttered.  The captives had a little wiggle-room, but wiggling would cause its own problems, like Gwyn's thighs brushing against Mandy's ears, or Mandy's chin prodding Gwyn's pussy.

Eventually, Mandy knew her neck muscles would give out and she'd have no choice but to rest her face on her friend's crotch.  Might as well do it now, she reasoned, before my neck and shoulders are sore as hell.  "Sorry," Mandy sighed, then lowered her lightly-freckled face onto the crotch in question.

"Mrrr!" Gwyn complained, but she knew it was true.  Neither of them had any real choice in the matter, and neither of them were at fault.  This was Rada's doing!

Finally! Penny thought as she scampered down the hallway, a chance to explore the manor!  She didn't know how much time she'd have before Rada Grabhands the Norwegian Troll realized Brave Little Penny Parr wasn't lying on Gwyn's bed and patiently waiting for the elaborate and possibly erotic adventure that would be Day Three of her Hazing Week to commence.  Penny had to put as much distance between herself and Gwyn's bedroom as she could, as quickly as she could.

That said, and not wanting to break her neck, Penny slowed as she came to the Grand Staircase leading to the Grand Entryway and descended to the ground floor.  It stood to reason that most, if not all, of the upstairs rooms were bedrooms, servants' quarters, closets, rope storerooms, cubbyholes in which to stash bound and gagged maids, etc., all of which would be dead ends.  And while some of the rooms were suites, meaning a handful of connected rooms, there were probably no interconnections to the rest of the floor.  The first floor, on the other hand, had many interconnections and would improve Penny's chances of staying ahead of Rada, and eventually doubling back on her attacker, padding back upstairs, finding wherever Rada had stashed Gwyn and Mandy, and the three of them somehow untying each other.

Penny ducked into a sitting room, paused, and listened.  Silence.  Rada's sneakers weren't thumping on the stairs in pursuit.  The giant amazon might be creeping... or descending via one of the back staircases... or tiptoeing down a theoretical spiral staircase in the mansion's theoretical secret passageways, but for now...  Silence.

Bethany, Penny thought.  I also have to keep an eye and ear out for Bethany.  Penny supposed she could try throwing herself on the mercy of the Mistress of the Manor, but at best that would probably result in no more than a reduction in her sentence.  She seriously doubted Bethany would free her completely, invite her to a celebratory breakfast, and magnanimously cancel the rest of Hazing Week.  Bethany might order Rada to go easy on her―maybe something like tying her up even further and incarcerating her in a dungeon cell for the rest of the day―as opposed to strapping her to whatever nightmare-inducing torture engine had been next on Rada's checklist.

No, it was best to avoid Rada and Bethany.

The nude, bound, and gagged fugitive slowed to a stately, silent, naked, bound, and ball-gagged stroll and padded across the sitting room to a closed door.  She turned the knob... slowly and silently opened the door... cautiously gazed into the room beyond... and found it to be another sitting room.  The sitting room has a sitting room?  Penny shrugged her bare shoulders and padded into the sitting room's sitting room.  There was another elaborately carved door... and it led to a hallway similar to the hallways upstairs.  Now the double sitting rooms made sense (sort of).  One sitting room was off the main hall way, the other was off a side hallway, and they were connected for convenience.

Still listening for sounds of pursuit (or for Bethany on her way to the kitchen for her morning coffee), Penny padded down the side hallway, randomly opened one of the doors... and found a cozy library/reading room.  The walls were lined with elaborately carved bookshelves with rolling ladders, there was a table with a comfortable straight chair, and a pair of overstuffed easy chairs (with ottomans).  And the space qualified as "cozy" because the shelves only held a few hundred leather-bound tomes and there was seating for no more than three scholars or recreational-readers.  Penny was sure that eventually she'd come to the manor's main library, with several thousand books and a dozen or more easy chairs, sofas, chase lounges, etc., but this wasn't it.

Across the mini-library was another open doorway... which led to another hallway... and at the end of the hall Penny recognized a white marble statue of a naked, Greco-Roman maiden posing in a full set of slave-chains (typical Victorian/Edwardian bondage porn for the upper classes), and in her mind a large chunk of the manor's layout suddenly snapped into place.  Penny already knew the relative positions of the indoor pool, massage/sauna chamber, the gym/torture parlor, kitchen, two dining rooms, the Grand Entryway, and the Grand Staircase, and now she could add her current position and the rooms and hallways she'd just visited.  There had to be something like a hundred or more rooms she still hadn't visited, of course, but a rough mental sketch of the overall floor plan was taking form.

A thorough exploration would have to wait (along with chart making, detailed note-taking, cross-referencing everything with the building plans archived at city hall, etc.)  For one thing, Penny had misplaced her theodolite.  For another, she was naked, bound, gagged, and on the lam from Rada.  Evading Rada Grabhands remained Penny's first priority―and the Norwegian Troll had to be on her trail by this time.

Penny silently padded down the hallway, heading for the indoor pool and an open doorway she'd noticed on the far side she thought might lead to the garage and/or an as yet unvisited wing of Spooky Roget Manor.  There was still no sign of pursuit, and―"Mrrrf!"―a black cloth bag had suddenly dropped over her ball-gagged head and its drawstring pulled tight (but not too tight) around her neck!

Rats!  Rada!  ...or is it Bethany?

Penny found she could still breathe, but she could see nothing... other than phantom stars and half-formed, negative images flashing before her blinking, suddenly sightless eyes.  She kicked and turned and twisted and kicked again, but whoever had done the deed had stepped back beyond the range of her bare feet and legs and seemed to be content to watch her flail around―which, as far as Penny was concerned, was more evidence that her captor was Rada.  Rada was into gloating.

Finally, Penny stopped struggling and stomped her right foot.  "Mrrrf!"  ("Get on with it!")

"Naughty Kattunge," Rada chuckled.  "You know you can't escape.  Why did you even try?"

Either Bethany's standup repertoire included a stunningly good and hitherto unsuspected Rada imitation, or the Norwegian Troll was her captor... or is it re-captor?  In any case, Penny was facing the wrong way.  She turned to face the unseen source of the gloating voice, and repeated her ball-gagged complaint and emphatic foot stomp.  "Mrrrf!"  Thump.

Rada gloated for a few more seconds (Penny assumed) then pounced.

"Nrrrmfk!"  Penny had been shoved against a wall and someone tall and strong―(like Rada, maybe?)―was leaning close, too close for Penny to effectively kick or otherwise fight back, and―"MRRRF!"―something hard, metallic, and unkind had just pinched Penny's right nipple―"MRRRK!"―followed by her left nipple!  Rada stepped back and Penny was free to twist and squirm and explore her new predicament, which was naked, bound, ball-gagged, head-bagged, and with what she was 99% sure was a pair of clover clamps pinching her nipples!  And by the accompanying metallic tinkling, flopping, and swaying, the clamps had the usual lightweight connecting chain of nested steel links.

Clearly, if there was ever a time for a complete freakout, this was it!

"Mrrrf!  Nrrrm!  Mpfhmmmf!  Mrrrkrmfh!  MRRRRRRRF!  ...  Mrrrk!  ...  Mrrr."  Penny's last mewl was more of a whine than an angry expletive, and was accompanied by another foot stomp, only this time it was decidedly slow, weak, and pathetic, as opposed to quick, powerful, and irate.

"Poor Kattunge," Rada purred, then hooked a finger around the nipple clamps' connecting chain and led Penny away.

"Mrrrk!"

As far as nipple jewelry was concerned, this was not Penny's first rodeo.  Far from it.  Aunt Suki was a big fan of clover-clamps.  Also, the clamps currently squeezing Penny's nips were an irritation and nothing like real torture.  Penny'd been surprised.  That was her excuse for freaking out.  (That's what she told herself, anyway.)  The clamps burned... but they didn't exactly hurt.  Also... they were humiliating... and intimidating.  And this was an ominous escalation of Summer Vacation Protocols!

Penny scampered in Rada's wake, highly motivated to keep pace with her tall Norwegian captor, despite Rada's longer stride.  According to Penny's tentative mental map of the manor, they might be heading for the kitchen.

Bethany inserted her master-key in the lock of her daughter's bedroom door―slowly, silently turned the lock―slowly, silently eased the door open―gazed at the unfolding drama on the bed―and the Mistress of the Manor smiled (and blushed).

Rada had awakened Bethany in her bed and informed her (in the most general terms) that she had tied up "Valp" and "Fox" in Valp's bedroom and the little dears required rescuing.  She'd then sauntered off in pursuit of "Kattunge" ... who apparently had escaped.  Imagine that.

Bethany stared at the closing bedroom door... decided she hadn't been dreaming... then climbed from bed, made a quick visit to her bathroom, shrugged into the gauze-thin, frilly robe that matched her gauze-thin, frilly nightie, stepped into a pair of fuzzy slippers, cinched the robe, and headed for Gwyn's bedroom.

And here she was, her blue eyes wide and staring, her cheeks blushing rose-red, and doing her best to suppress the smile curling her lips.

Her little Elf was flat on her back on her bed, naked, with her arms raised and tied behind her head, her legs frog-tied, and a ball-gag plugging her mouth.

Mandy was also on the bed, also naked, and hogtied on her stomach.

There was one more minor detail: Mandy's head was between Gwyn's splayed legs and was bobbing and squirming.  Mandy's tousled ginger hair partially blocked Bethany's view, but it was clear what was happening: Cunnilingus!

Bethany did her best to compose herself (while Mandy continued licking and probing her daughter's pussy with her tongue), then silently strolled to the bedside.

Gwyn's eyes were clenched tightly closed and she was grimacing, sweating, and panting around her ball-gag.  Her nipples were fully erect.  Meanwhile, Mandy was concentrating on the task at hand (meaning at tongue).  Both naked, sweating, and helplessly bound occupants of the bed were oblivious to Bethany's presence.  She watched... for several seconds.  Young love, she sighed.

Apparently, Bethany's sigh had been loud enough to attract attention.  Gwyn was frozen in her bonds, blushing, and staring up at her smiling mother in abject horror!  Mandy was frozen in the act of licking Gwyn's labia and was also blushing and staring up at Bethany in abject horror!

"Goodness," Bethany purred, then ignored the now wiggling and clearly very mortified duo on the bed and set to work.

Soon (meaning eventually), Gwyn was completely untied.  Bethany watched as her daughter reached behind her head and unbuckled and removed her ball-gag.

Mandy was still hogtied and noted that Bethany was making no move to rectify the situation.

"I take it you two are an item?" Bethany inquired.

"It's Rada's fault!" the naked youngsters exclaimed in unison.

"Don't dodge the question," Bethany purred.  She was still blushing (a little), but was also clearly in charge.  After all, she was both the mother and the only one wearing clothes.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Gwyn sighed (and blushed).  "I know you want grandchildren, but..."

"Silly Elf," Bethany chuckled, leaned close, and planted a kiss on her daughter's bright pink left cheek.  "This is the 21st century.  Even if Mandy is the love of your life... there are options available."

Mandy was biting her lower lip and had solemnly decided not to contribute to the conversation at this time.  Unfortunately, crawling under a rock to give the Roget Girls a little privacy was not an option.

"Do we really need to talk about this now?" Gwyn whined.

"No, we don't," Bethany laughed, then planted a kiss on Mandy's blushing cheek.  "I need a shower, and some breakfast."

Gwyn and Mandy watched Bethany stroll from the bedroom, closing the door behind her.  They then gazed at each other, blue eyes gazing into green and vice versa.

"Sorry I got carried away," Mandy said in a near whisper.

"No you're not!" Gwyn huffed, then grabbed the ball gag and crawled across the bed to her hogtied, ginger friend.

Mandy had a good idea what was coming.  "Uh... we gonna get breakfast too?  Gwyn!  Mrrrfh!"  The ball-gag (still wet with Gwyn's saliva) was now plugging her mouth!

"Breakfast?  Eventually," Gwyn confirmed, "but not right now."  She parted Mandy's hair and buckled the ball-gag's strap tight at the nape of her neck.  Gwyn's former bonds were still a tangled pile on the bed, so she had plenty of black rope to work with when she set to work on the task at hand, which, apparently, was lashing Mandy to the bed.  The ginger's hogtie remained intact, as did the majority of her upper-body-bonds; however, the crotch-rope element was a notable exception.  It was untied.

Soon, the naked, squirming, and still blushing Mandy was on her back with her knees bent, legs splayed, and several taut, doubled strands of hemp keeping her that way.  Needless to say, her lightly-freckled thighs, lady-bits, and neatly trimmed pubic bush were extremely vulnerable and on full display.

As it turned out, Gwyn's huge, Gothic, elaborately carved bed frame had a great many convenient, perfectly positioned, and cleverly camouflaged lashing points, and that included the side-rails.  Go figure.

Mandy tested her new predicament as Gwyn positioned herself between her widely separated legs, then cringed when Gwyn placed her hands on her lightly-freckled thighs.

"We will discuss the shameless way you took advantage of Rada's inexcusable cruelty and blatantly embarrassed me in front of my mother," Gwyn decreed.  "But first..."  She settled onto her stomach and scooted forward until her face was hovering above Mandy's pussy.  "I have some catching up to do."

And she did.

And there was nothing Mandy could do to stop her.

(And Mandy didn't really want to stop her.)