by Van ©2019
		Chapter 12

After High Mistress Bethany and Rada Grabhands (the Gigantic Nordic Shield-Maiden Captive) made their exit, Poor Penny Parr was ruthlessly entertained.  That is, Gwyn and Mandy, the entertainers in question, licked and nibbled Penny's nipples, ran their hands over her naked body, and diddled her with the blue torpedo-vibrator until she was quite silly.

Then, having discovered the jar of Moringa Body Butter on the nightstand that Penny had used to ruthlessly moisturize Rada, Gwyn and Mandy ruthlessly moisturized Penny's body, rubbing the fluffy white creme into her skin until she glistened from head to toe.  Then, they rubbed her entire body again, until she was simply smooth, gleaming and pleasantly moringa-scented, as opposed to greasy, slick, and stinking like a moringa in heat.

And then, Penny's brunette and red-haired alleged friends used The Blue Shaft of Vibratory Doom to entertain her again!

Penny wouldn't have let them get away with any of these outrages, of course, were it not for the fact that she was stringently spreadeagled on the bed with black hemp rope binding her wrists and ankles (which left the overwhelming majority of her naked, nubile, innocent young body available for entertainment purposes).  Penny didn't even complain, if you don't count a great deal of desperate blinking and rolling of her blue eyes, pathetic whimpering, tragic whining, and well-garbled expletives.  She was ball-gagged.

No one in The Bambi Room got a great deal of sleep that night.  Gwyn and Mandy took turns diddling Poor Penny Parr.  One would take a brief catnap while the other did the diddling.  Penny would have liked to have taken a few catnaps herself, but her torturers/lovers had other ideas.

When the sun finally decided to make an appearance, shining through the bedroom windows with slowly increasing brilliance, all three occupants of the bed were finally asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ zzzzzzz ....... zzzzzzz ....... zzzzzzz ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Eventually, Mandy woke up, rolled away from Penny, climbed off the bed... stretched and yawned... then padded into the bathroom.  Water ran in the sink, the toilet flushed, and the yawning, smiling ginger returned.

"Wake up," Mandy whispered, shaking Gwyn's shoulder.

"Mfrmplfrmm," Gwyn objected, then opened her eyes, focused on her girlfriend, and smiled.  "Morning," she purred, climbed from the bed, and the lovers embraced and exchanged a long, slow, wet kiss.

Despite her post-entertainment exhaustion, Penny had been awakened by the two naked, nubile villainesses responsible for her pathetic condition rolling around on the bed and swapping spit in such a blatant manner.  Yeah, good frakkin' morning, she silently fumed, then watched as Gwyn released her girlfriend, turned, and padded towards the bathroom.

Mandy remained behind, smiling down at Penny.  "Don't worry," the gorgeous and irritatingly perky ginger purred, "we aren't going to leave you like that."  She then worked her way around the bed, leaning forward, reaching down near the floor, and doing something to each of the four paired ropes enforcing Penny's spreadeagle bondage.

Penny couldn't see what Mandy was up to as the mattress blocked her view.  The ropes remained as taut as ever.

By this time, Gwyn had returned from the bathroom.  "Oh, slipknots," she exclaimed, smiling at her girlfriend.  "Good idea."

Mandy smiled back.  "This way we can release her and still get a good head start before she finishes untying herself."

"Clever girl," Gwyn purred as she kissed Mandy's freckled right cheek.  Mandy shivered in delight, basking in her girlfriend's praise and affection.  Penny decided it was quite disgusting.

Gwyn started sorting the clothes the kidnappers/entertainers removed at Penny's command last night and heaped in a pile near the bed.  That was before High Mistress Bethany arrived and turned the tables with an imperious and graceful wave of her hand, of course.  "C'mon," Gwyn urged.  "Bundle your clothes and let's skedaddle.  We both need a shower."

"No kidding," Mandy chuckled as she joined her girlfriend at the rapidly diminishing pile.

Soon, both of Penny's alleged friends had their all-black stalking/kidnapping outfits in neatly rolled bundles and tucked under one arm, then padded to opposite sides of the bed.

"Ready, set, go!" Gwyn announced, and the brunette and redhead released the slipknots securing Penny's ankles... rapidly followed by the slipknots securing her wrists.  They then scampered out the bedroom door, giggling like the naked idiots they were.  That was Penny's opinion, anyway.

"Mrrrmpfh!"  ("You better run!")  Penny heaved a sigh, rolled her eyes, then pulled on the ropes still elaborately tied around her wrists.  This is getting downright sad, she chided herself.  I really need fresh material.  Maybe I can use Google to find lists of good comebacks.

Penny set about the serious task of freeing herself.  The wrist-ropes offered resistance... but eventually pulled away from their lashing points and jerked free.  Untying the wrist-cuff portions of her former bonds took a while... as did untying her ankle-cuffs... but eventually she was rope free.

That left only the ball-gag, which Penny removed and tossed aside as she bounced off the bed and padded into the bathroom for her morning tinkle.  Next would come a long, hot shower.  The steaming, streaming water would soothe her sore muscles and the soap wash away the residual funkiness of her multi-orgasmic ordeal.

Could Penny have made do with a quick tinkle, then gathered some rope and sprinted after her fellow students/vacationers for immediate and richly deserved revenge?  Maybe, but she was tired, and if Gwyn and Mandy had any brains they'd be sharing a shower not in either of their bedrooms' attached bathrooms, but at an "undisclosed location" somewhere in the vast, luxurious, over-decorated, Gothic labyrinth that was Spooky Roget Manor.  By the time she found them, it would all be over, including the toweling dry of their pale and freckled skins (respectively).

"No... I'll tie them up and torture, tickle, and diddle them later," Penny muttered under her breath as she loaded toothpaste on her toothbrush.  Getting the nasty post-ball-gag taste out of her mouth then easing her sore muscles under a monsoon of hot water were her immediate priorities.

Penny emerged from the bathroom squeaky clean, vaguely floral scented, and with her blond curls clean, dry, and brushed into their usual semi-tousled glory.  She exited The Bambi Room, bounced down the Grand Staircase (especially her boobs), and padded towards the kitchen. 

She was naked, of course, but hey, High Mistress Bethany and Rada Grabhands had conspired to steal her clothes and luggage and hide them away, so if they didn't want her to be naked the ball was in their court.

In any case, Penny had higher priorities than clothing, and they were...

Priority 1:  Breakfast.  Any breakfast.  As long as it started with hot coffee.
Priority 2a:  Find Gwyn and punch her lights out for the High Crime of tying her to The Bambi Room Bed and diddling her silly 'til the very wee hours of the morning.
Priority 2b:  Find Mandy and punch her lights out for the High Crime of tying her to The Bambi Room Bed and diddling her silly 'til the very wee hours of the morning.

Gwyn had precedence over Mandy because it was becoming abundantly clear that Gwyn was the top and Mandy the bottom, but Penny was easy.  If she encountered Mandy first, she was perfectly willing to let the ginger have the first punch.

Priority 3:  Find Rada and sweet-talk/seduce her into a do-over of last night's rendezvous.  Penny felt she owed Rada several additional orgasms.
Priority 4:  Find High Mistress Bethany and sweet-talk/seduce her into granting her a waiver for the final two days of Hazing Week.  Enough was enough.

Anyway, Penny opened the kitchen door―and her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and she froze in place!

Bethany, Rada, Gwyn, and Mandy were all present (in no particular order); however, all four were clothed!  Fully clothed!  Not naked!  Not even a little naked!

The High Mistress was wearing a charming (and probably designer label) sundress.  (Arguably, with her lower legs, arms, and shoulders exposed, Bethany was a little naked, but was showing a little smooth, pale skin really being "a little naked?"  At the moment,  Penny didn't think so.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Bethany chuckled, then took a sip from a mug of coffee.

"Good morning, Kattunge," Rada added.  She was wearing sandals, stone-washed denim jeans, a white tank-top, and her hunter-green cook's apron.  She was also smiling broadly and cooking scrambled eggs.

"Took you long enough," Gwyn purred.  She was smiling and sipping coffee, like her mother.

"Yeah," Mandy piped in, then sipped her coffee.

Both of Penny's fellow students/vacationers were wearing jeans and T-shirts.  Gwyn's ensemble was black and black (very Goth) while Mandy's was denim-blue and eucalyptus-green (appropriate for her ginger hair and freckled complexion).

Being nude among a bunch of nudists was no big thing, but being the only nudist in the room was altogether different!  Much to her surprise, Penny found herself blushing and struggling to keep her hands from covering her boobs and crotch.

Gwyn and Mandy were drinking it in, both Penny's sudden attack of modesty and their coffee.  This, in turn, caused Penny's blush to morph into an angry flush and her hands to clench into tight fists.

But first things first.

Penny stomped (padded) to the coffee-maker, pulled a mug from the cabinet overhead, and poured herself a cup of hot, steaming, dark, delicious ambrosia.  The disgruntled little blonde took her first-sip-of-the-day... sighed... and decided to be the big person (so to speak) and allow Gwyn and Mandy to live.

Breakfast conversation happened.  Everybody (except Penny) chatted and smiled as they devoured eggs, toast, crispy bacon, and greasy little browned sausage links.  Oddly enough, the topic of Penny's Pendulum Gizmo Ordeal of the previous day never came up, and Penny didn't broach the subject herself.

Penny filled her tummy, but unfortunately she didn't get a chance to butter-up Bethany (so to speak) and secure a reprieve from Hazing Week.  Nor did she get a chance to take Rada aside and charm her into letting her tie her to The Bambi Room Bed tonight.

Gwyn and Mandy announced that they were going to take a five-mile nature hike.  Apparently, Spooky Roget Manor had a private trail that connected to a local public trail.  It was their duty to make sure the area's songbirds and squirrels remained aware that their activities were being closely monitored.  Both serial would-be kidnappers owned the required boots, cargo shorts, day-packs, and water bottles, and Gwyn would loan her girlfriend a pair of binoculars on a figure-eight harness-strap.  Add a couple of hats, a few granola bars, and hiking sticks and they'd be good to go.

Rada explained that a stroll through the woods was not adequate aerobic exercise and she expected Gwyn and Mandy to report to the gym as soon as they returned.

Gwyn and Mandy shared a truly tragic commiserative sigh, then nodded and finished clearing their plates.

Penny smiled, probably for the first time since entering the kitchen in all her naked, petite pulchritude.  Hah!  Serves them right.

"You need your exercise as well, Kattunge," Rada purred focusing her ubiquitous smile on Penny.  "You can help me clean up, then I'll take you to the gym."

Penny's smile morphed into a pout and she turned to Bethany for support.  Unfortunately, the sundress-wearing-beauty was worried about her own fate.  "I think I'll catch up on my correspondence, then swim a full set of vigorous laps in the indoor pool."

Rada smiled.  "I'll make sure the manor's security system monitors your efforts and logs a detailed report in your exercise diary."

"Uh... wonderful," Bethany replied (smiling a slightly forced smile).

Gwyn and Mandy exchanged happy grins.  Everybody was going to have to exercise, not just them.  Rada getting her exercise was a given.  The tall, tan, giant amazon was addicted to sweat.

Penny heaved a sigh and shoveled the last of her eggs into her pouting mouth.

The Spooky Roget Manor Breakfast Club dispersed and Rada and Naked Penny did, indeed, remain behind to clean up the kitchen.

It was a perfect chance for Penny to seduce Rada, and she took it!

"Uh, Rada," Penny purred as she loaded the plates, mugs, and tableware into the dishwasher.

"Yes, Kattunge?"  Rada was draining the residual grease from the fry pan into a small crock.  She used bacon grease and selected table scraps to make homemade suet cakes to feed the birds.

"I feel terrible that we were interrupted before I could finish showing you my rigging skills," Penny sighed, then forced a Brave Smile and batted her blue eyes for Rada's benefit.  "Will you come to my room tonight?"

Rada chuckled as she wiped the last of the grease from the pan with a paper towel.  "We'll see, Kattunge."

"Okay," Penny said with a carefully calibrated, somewhat shy smile.  It wasn't the unqualified YES! she'd been hoping for, but she'd take what she could get.  Penny resolved to keep nagging Rada every chance she got throughout the day (but without being a needy, irritating little twerp, of course).  She slid a detergent/conditioner pod into the appropriate slot, paused for Rada to add the frying pan to the the now adequately full dishwasher, then closed the door and thumbed the "START" button.  Only a little counter-wiping and preliminary lunch preparations remained, as well as Rada tapping a touchscreen on the refrigerator door to approve an update of the Manor's automated grocery delivery list.

Then, Rada dragged a kicking and screaming Naked Penny Parr to her aerobic fate.  Actually―Heroic, Stoic Damsel that she was―Penny marched to her doom with head held high, her beautiful, semi-tousled blond tresses fluttering in the nonexistent breeze, a Noble Expression on her gorgeous face, and her boobs Bravely Swaying in perfect rhythm to her bare, padding feet.

Penny remained a Heroic, Stoic Damsel as she watched Rada peel out of her clothes (which was mildly surprising but a very good thing as far as Penny was concerned).  Soon, the only thing the Norwegian Troll was wearing was a light chain dangling around her neck that held three keys, one of which was of the barrel variety.  Then, Rada led Penny in a series of stretching exercises.  Obviously, Rada had been concerned she might rip the seat of her jeans if she'd tried stretching with them covering her firm buns.  They were a little tight, Penny silently conceded.  Actually, they were a lot tight.

Rada's key-chain-necklace swung and swayed as she did her muscle-stretching thing, which Penny found to be mildly distracting, especially when the keys slid across and/or between the amazon's tan, firm, perfect boobs.

Stretching routine complete, Rada took Penny's hand and led her to the running machine, positioned the pouting little blonde on the treadmill, then locked rubber-padded, steel cuffs around her wrists.  The cuffs were attached to steel chains that were, in turn, attached to the machine's side-rails.  The chains were short, but allowed reasonable freedom of motion, meaning Penny would be able to swing her arms in a normal manner once she started walking, jogging, or running.

Next, Penny watched nervously as Rada readied some sort of... head harness?  Whatever it was, it had a rubber mouthpiece with long, flexible, clear plastic hoses attached to either side of what looked like a panel-gag with the mouthpiece instead of a rubber ball or mouth plug.  The long hoses were supported by spring-loaded cables attached to the ceiling and trailed down to what was obviously the machine's control console.

"What's that for?" Penny demanded as the mouthpiece approached her mouth, then shifted into heavy-duty pouting/whining.  "Rada!"  (Not that it did her any good.)  "Mrrrpfh!"  Rada (smiling the entire time) had shoved the thing into her mouth and was now tightening the straps behind her head.

Penny now had two options:

1. Breathe through the mouthpiece.  She found that sent her exhaled breath whistling down the left tube and drew air for inhalation from the right tube.
2. Breathe through her nose.

Thanks to the padded manacles and attached chains, groping for and releasing the head-harness was not an option, at least not with Rada still in the room.

"Snrrrf!"

And then, Penny's options were reduced to one: breathing through the mouthpiece.  Rada had pinched her nose closed with a well-padded but decidedly unwelcome nose-clamp!

"The system monitors your CO₂ production and oxygen consumption," Rada explained, belatedly answering Penny's earlier question.

Penny glared at Rada with laser-beam eyes.  For some inexplicable reason, the tall, tan, smiling giantess didn't burst into flame.

"There are an array of accessories available to discourage cheating," Rada lectured, "such as electrified nipple-clamps and pads that deliver punishment if you fail to keep the required pace or try stepping off the treadmill."  Rada's smile widened.  "But Rada has decided to be kind.  Besides..."  She paused to tap the control panel's touchscreen a few times with her right index finger.

From her position, Penny couldn't see the touchscreen.  She had no idea what Rada was doing with her long, tan, strong finger, other then the obvious: programming the machine.

"Rada will be watching," the grinning Norwegian Troll continued.  "Be a good girl, or Rada will spank."  She pointed at the console.  "You will hear a beep when the program begins."

Penny continued glaring as Rada turned and padded towards the gym's Nautilus-style resistance machine.  Like the rest of the gym equipment, it was decorated in Steampunk/Victorian fashion.

Why is she suddenly talking in the third person? Penny wondered.  Rada this and Rada that.  It is an effective gloating technique... I suppose.  Maybe I'll give it a try once I capture Gwyn and Mandy and start doing horrible things to them.  'Penny is angry.'  'Penny will punish you now.'  It could work.

As Rada was situating herself in the embrace of the resistance machine, the running machine beeped, as Rada had predicted.  Then, the treadmill under Penny's bare feet hummed... began to roll... and picked up speed.  Penny had no choice but to walk... and continue walking... and then begin power-walking.

Meanwhile, Rada had begun a series of leg-lifts.  Penny noted that the tall, tan, gorgeous blonde was cheating, in that she hadn't deployed the resistance machine's many padded cuffs and straps, then ordered the machine to tighten them and hold her prisoner until she completed the programmed number of sets.  Penny assumed that's how the thing worked.  That was how she would have designed it to work, anyway... and the cuffs and straps were there, forlornly dangling and ready for use... and no doubt pining to embrace Rada's tall, tan, perfect physique.

Penny continued power-walking... and power-walking... then power-walked some more... which was followed by more power-walking.

Penny's bare feet were starting to complain... as were her calves.

She continued power-walking... and breathing through the head-harness-gag/breath-monitor... and power-walking.

The chains rattled, the treadmill hummed, her bare feet thudded, air whistled through the breathing hoses, and Penny power-walked.  She had no choice.

Rada watched Penny as they exercised... and sweated.  The tall, tan, breathtakingly fit and beautiful Norwegian Troll's body was now gleaming with sweat as she moved from machine to machine.  Rada exercised her exquisite, very feminine physique... and watched Poor Penny Parr make her endless, enthusiastic trudge to nowhere.

Finally, literally dripping with sweat, Rada strolled towards Penny and her machine, smiled, and stabbed a button on the control console.

The treadmill ground to a stop, and Penny stopped power-walking.  She stared the proverbial daggers at her gigantic, naked, sweat-dripping trainer, panted through her unusual gag―Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze―and also dripped sweat.

Rada removed the clamp from Penny's nose, unbuckled and removed the gag/breathing-monitor, then released her right wrist-cuff... padded around the machine... and released her left wrist-cuff.

Penny rubbed her abused wrists (even though they weren't abused and didn't really need rubbing) and continued staring.

"Is my nose permanently disfigured?" Penny demanded, still sending imaginary and ineffectual daggers speeding Rada's way.

"Silly Kattunge," Rada chuckled, "Your cute little button nose is only a little pink."  She gently tapped the end of the nose in question for emphasis.  "It will fade quickly."

"Hey!" Penny complained.  "No boinking!"

Rada laughed and scooped Penny's sweaty, diminutive form into her arms and carried her towards the shower/sauna room.  As she had the last time―after yesterday's Pendulum Gizmo Ordeal―Rada was carrying her like a bride across the threshold.  Penny draped her right arm across Rada's left shoulder and reached across Rada's body to clutch her right side.  That meant Penny's left arm was nudging the undersides of Rada's breasts and acting as a shelf, but Penny had no real choice but to hang on.  They were both incredibly sweaty and slippery and Penny was in real danger of sliding to the floor and landing with a wet thud.

Rada carried her flushed, sweaty, pouting burden under the shower and managed to turn it on.  The faucet gurgled, briefly, then a torrent of cold water drenched both their bodies.

Brave and Stoic Damsel that she was, Penny endured the splashing onslaught with only a little shivering and squirming.  She also endured being soaped and hand-scrubbed by her gigantic handler... followed by the subsequent rinse.  And then, Penny was subjected to being thoroughly dried with a big fluffy towel.  Finally, Rada set Penny down on her bare feet and the indignant but squeaky clean youngster folded her arms under her breasts, pouted, and watched as Rada finished drying herself.

Rada smiled down at Penny.  Penny glared up at Rada as she toweled her long, blond, Nordic hair.  Penny gave a disdainful sniff, then eyed the exit that led to the hallway and the rest of the manor.

"Don't even think about scampering away, Kattunge," Rada purred.

"I'll scamper if I want to," Penny huffed.  "Hey!  Rada!"

In one swift motion Rada had tossed away the towel, grabbed Penny, and hoisted her struggling body onto her shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Flutter-kicking legs to the front and twisting, squirming body and flailing arms to the rear, Penny couldn't see where they were going, only where they'd been.  She could see Rada's butt and striding legs, of course.  She could also complain, and she did.

"Rada!  Stop!  Put me down!  Ow!"  That last complaint had been in response to the resounding slap Rada had delivered to her left butt-cheek.

"Settle down!" Rada ordered.

Penny heaved a sigh and did, indeed, settle down.  Struggling was a waste of effort anyway.  Then, she realized she had an opportunity to further the cause of maneuvering Rada into her bed and the embrace of several yards of High Mistress Bethany's black-dyed, conditioned hemp rope.

"You're being very mean," Penny said quietly.  "A fair person would give me a chance to even the score."

"By letting you be mean to me?" Rada purred.

"Oh, I wouldn't be mean," Penny promised (lied).  "And it would make you feel better.  Less guilty."

"For being mean," Rada chuckled.

"Exactly," Penny confirmed.  "It would even the score, clear the books, balance the equation, and... uh... that sort of thing."

"I assume you mean I should let you tie up Rada, like you did last night?"

Penny smiled (unseen by the tall, tan, gigantic amazon carrying her to... wherever they were going).  "Yes.  So... we're agreed?"

"Rada will think about it," Rada purred.

Success!  (Maybe.)  But again with the third person.  Penny's eyebrows knitted in a mildly puzzled frown.  Maybe she only does it when she's feeling frisky.  But when is Rada not feeling frisky?

They arrived at their apparent destination, a storeroom of some sort, and Rada eased Penny off her shoulder.  The naked little blonde looked around as Rada closed the door.  There was an ominous click, which Penny assumed was Rada engaging the lock, and Penny knew she wouldn't be scampering away without Rada's permission, which wasn't likely to happen.

The walls were lined with built-in cabinets with tall, wardrobe-style doors and columns of chest-of-drawers-style drawers, all in darkly stained oak and elaborately carved in the manor's spooky Gothic style.  There were no labels on any of the doors or drawers, but, apparently, Rada didn't need any.  She made a beeline for a cabinet door, opened it, reached inside, and selected one of twenty or more single-sleeve armbinders hanging from a row of hooks.

Penny was impressed, but then Rada closed the door, blocking her view of the cabinet's contents.  Everything had been black, but she was pretty sure she'd seen leather, latex, and even canvas cloth binders... but the particular armbinder now dangling in Rada's hands was neoprene, and Rada was carrying it in her direction!

Penny took two involuntary steps back, her worried gaze alternating between the armbinder and Rada's predatory smile.

"You aren't going to give Rada trouble, are you?" the titanic she-warrior inquired.

Penny heaved a sigh.  "No, Penny isn't going to give Rada any trouble.  Penny is going to be a good Penny."

Rada chuckled, spun Penny around, and began sliding the neoprene cone up her arms.

Penny cooperated, as promised.  The binder was, indeed, neoprene, like a diver's wetsuit, a thin layer of flexible rubber foam sandwiched between layers of black nylon cloth.  It was also tight, and increasingly so as Rada zipped its long vertical zipper all the way to the top.  Penny's hands were now held palm-to-palm with her lower arms pressed together from wrists to elbows.  The usual long straps passed under her armpits, crisscrossed her chest, and secured to the top of the binder, and Rada was tightening secondary and totally unnecessary straps (in Penny's unsolicited opinion) around her already encased wrists and elbows.

All the straps were neoprene, like the binder, and the buckles were black plastic of the snap variety.  They also locked in some manner.  That was an assumption on Penny's part, but after Rada had finished tightening the straps and snapping the buckles, she'd inserted some sort of specialized key/tool into each of the buckles and given them a twist until Penny heard another snap, so it seemed a safe bet.  It was also overkill.  With her fingers and hands encased and compressed in what amounted to a stretched neoprene pouch, locking buckles was a superfluous precaution.

Penny executed a Courtesy Struggle while Rada went to another wardrobe.  Obviously, the armbinder was on to stay.  Penny wasn't going to wiggle out of it anytime soon.

Rada returned with more neoprene, and this time it was a body-harness of the traditional design: a row of vertical rings down Penny's front with diagonal straps yoking her shoulders and horizontal straps encircling her torso (including the armbinder), passing above and below her breasts, around her waist, and just above her hips.  The rings were heavy-duty nylon plastic and the buckles identical to the armbinder's snap-buckles.

There was also a vertical crotch strap that passed from the back of the harness' waist-strap, through a slot in the tip of armbinder, through Penny's crotch (cleaving her labia), then buckled to the front of the hip strap,  Obviously, even though they'd been stored in different locations, the binder and harness were parts of a matching set.

"Mean," Penny huffed.  "Just.  Plain.  Mean.  Eeep!"  That last little squeal had been in response to Rada tightening the crotch strap until Penny's neoprene-encased hands were jammed against her butt-crack and the crotch-strap was mildly stretched and being very friendly.  "Rada!"

"Hush, Kattunge," Rada purred as she padded to another cabinet.  "You know you enjoy new experiences.  Rada is only trying to help."

Rada opened the cabinet door and Penny could see an array of all sorts of gags, in leather, steel, latex, and even neoprene (which, at this point, Penny didn't find all that surprising).  Logically, she was about to get a little help following Rada's order that she should "hush."  She swallowed nervously as Rada made her selection, closed the cabinet door, and returned.  In her hands was a neoprene panel-gag with a mouth-plugging ball pierced by a breathing tube.  The muzzle-like panel would cup Penny's chin, had a cutout for her "cute little button nose," and would cover her entire lower face once buckled in place.  It had a plastic snap-buckle, like the rest of Penny's outfit.  Even the rivets keeping the gag-strap positioned over the muzzle/mask appeared to be nylon plastic.  No metal, Penny realized.  I'll be able pass through airport security without raising a ruckus.

Penny's famous last words were an accusation: "Meanie!"  Then, the medical-silicon ball was in her mouth, the panel was compressing her lips, pressing against her lower face and cupping her chin.  Rada stretched the strap behind her neck and under her hair, snapped it closed, and engaged the superfluous lock.  Snap!

Air whistled through the tube piercing the gag if Penny breathed through her mouth, but not as loudly as it had through the CO₂/oxygen monitoring hoses of the running machine back in the gym.

Meanwhile, Rada was opening another cabinet.  She returned with... something in her hands.  Whatever it was, it was made of black neoprene and had the same plastic snap-buckles as the rest of Penny's outfit.  However, the thing included a pair of dangling, connected loops of flexible black rubber tubing about the same diameter as the gag's stiff breathing tube.  One loop was significantly larger than the other.

The purpose of the "something" and the mysterious black loops was soon revealed as Rada forced Poor Penny to the floor (meaning gently urged her to kneel, then settle her neoprene cleaved rump down on the plush carpet), then pulled the much-put-upon blond damsel's ankles together.

Once again, the Norwegian Troll raised a metaphorical dust cloud, and when it settled... Penny's ankles were bound together by a wide cuff of neoprene that required two locking snap-buckles to keep it closed.  The designer had been kind enough to include an interior flap with a doughnut-shaped neoprene pad to cushion Penny's ankles, but cruel enough to include the rubber tubing.  The smaller loop was stretched around Penny's big toes, binding them together, the larger loop encircled her feet, binding them together, and the connecting tubing stretched from the neoprene ankle-cuff to the foot-loop to the toe-loop and encouraged Penny to flex her feet in a slightly lifted position.  With a little effort Penny found she could stretch the tubing and point her toes, but that made the tubing tighten up and pull back.  She couldn't hold the on pointe position for long.

Penny stared down her bare legs at her black neoprene, plastic, and rubber toe-foot-ankle-bondage-thingie.  As a rigger, Penny was impressed and made a mental note to inquire if the manufacturer had a website, once she wasn't gagged.  As a damsel-in-distress, however, she was... unappreciative.

Penny was also unappreciative when―"Mrrrf!"―Rada once again scooped her into her arms and carried her away.  She didn't bother squirming and/or wiggling her naked, armbinder, body-harness, and toe-foot-ankle-thingie bound body against Rada's tall, tan, magnificent, and not bound body, but she did return to staring daggers at Rada's smiling face.  As always, Rada was impervious to her imaginary, razor-sharp cutlery.

Rada carried her precious burden up the grand staircase to the second floor, through a maze of service passages, up a back staircase, and into the attic.

There was a pause while Rada unlocked and opened a substantial door, clicked on a wall-switch, then carried Penny across the threshold and into a long, narrow, rather complicated space with a sloping ceiling.  Penny suspected it was a gallery of massive roof joists and rafters, at least she thought she was staring at roof joists and rafters.  Penny wasn't big on architecture and/or construction, so she wasn't sure of the proper jargon.  This Old House was not her favorite show on PBS.

Anyway, an array of big honkin' timbers marched away into the distance in a complex, repeating, diagonal and vertical pattern.  In cross section, the space was a right triangle.  The complicated right wall (if you could call it a wall) was sheets of plywood, a maze of "normal" wood framing, aluminum ventilation/heating ducts running along the base, and a series of periodic vertical, massive timbers supporting the diagonal massive timbers overhead.  The left "wall" was the point of the triangle.  Giantess that she was, Rada had to be careful not to bang her forehead.  Petite little damsel that she was, if Penny had been allowed to walk (or hop), she would have been just fine.

The only light shone down from a row of dim, widely separated fixtures with metal shades.  Rada took a right turn and carried Penny from pool-of-light to-pool-of-light.

Having nothing better to do, Penny looked around, but unfortunately there wasn't  a lot to see, other than the plywood under Rada's feet, the aforementioned organized jumble of big honkin' timbers, a patina of dust, and cobwebs.  There wasn't what Penny would call an excess of cobwebs, but there were cobwebs, and cobwebs meant spiders!  Penny hoped they weren't big honkin' spiders with long, hairy, creepy legs.  Penny didn't like spiders, especially big honkin' spiders with long, hairy, creepy legs.

And then, there was something to see.  They were approaching a rectangular object tucked against the wall and covered by a dust cloth.  Rada gently eased Penny down to stand on her ankle, foot, and toe-bound feet―Ow!  How rude!―then carefully folded back the dust cloth to reveal―a cage of thick iron bars!

Penny's eyes popped wide above her panel-gag.  The cage was the size of a very large steamer trunk and was bolted to the floor in several places, as well as to the side of one of the vertical bracing timbers.  The bars were vertical, not counting the grid of bars comprising the roof or the three rows of horizontal bars bracing all four sides.  The bars were all about an inch thick and spaced about three inches apart.  A canvas-clad pad covered the cage floor, and one end was a door/gate, with heavy-duty hinges, a massive iron bolt, and secured by a modern high-security padlock.  The overall ambiance was hand-forged and medieval, and the thing fairly screamed inescapable.

Penny watched with dread as Rada selected the barrel-key from the collection danging around her neck and used it to unlock the padlock.  Click!  Rada then drew the bolt―Snap!―and pulled open the cage door.  Creeeee!

Penny seriously considered trying to hop away, but that would have been a ludicrously slow and laughably futile "escape attempt," also mildly painful for her poor toes.  Instead, Penny mustered her best pitiful gagged pout, gazed at her statuesque captor with sad, moist eyes, and weakly squirmed in her bonds for added effect.  I'm a terrified baby kitten, Rada.  Please don't lock me in your scary cage!

The gag must have dampened Penny's efforts because Rada was unmoved.  Penny, however, was moved.  That is, Rada picked her up and placed her inside the cage.

"Mrrrpfh!" Penny complained as she squirmed and struggled.  She failed to even delay the inevitable.  Creeeee!  Snap!   Click!

Penny was now reclined on her side inside the closed, bolted, and padlocked cage.  There wasn't nearly enough room for her to stretch her legs full length―even if she was 5' 2", the ideal height for comely young damsels―so her knees were bent and her bound feet and toes pressed against the cool iron bars.

"Until later, Kattunge," Rada purred, then turned and padded away.

Penny watched with sullen resignation as Rada's tall, tan, sinister/gorgeous body receded into the distance, passing from pool-of-light―into silhouette―to pool-of-light―into silhouette―etc.― and then was gone.  The distant door banged shut, all the lights winked out, and Penny was alone in the inky darkness... except, maybe, for the hypothetical horde of big honkin' spiders with long, hairy, creepy legs lurking among the roof joists and rafters.

Penny squirmed in her bonds.  At least the cage has a cushion, she thought, sighing through her gag, and the cushion is... adequate.  So... what to do?  The naked, bound, gagged, and caged damsel pondered her many options for several long seconds... and finally reached a decision.

Oh, I know.  I'll languish.

And languish she did.