by Van © 2023
		Chapter 3

Nora and Gabby had finished presenting their list of renovations and improvements and Kenzy was well into going back over the items one-by-one, asking questions and making tentative suggestions.  They'd already agreed that the entire session was preliminary and contingent on the results of Munro & Munro's ongoing inspection of the structure.  The same went for price estimates.

They'd already taken a short coffee break and agreed that lunch would happen as soon as they wrapped up the meeting.

Suddenly, one of the two doors to the Little Library burst open and Danica appeared, slightly out of breath.  "Excuse me," she blurted, then hurried to Gabby and started whispering in her ear.

Nora and Kenzy were sitting side-by-side on the opposite side of the table and couldn't quite hear whatever Danica was saying, but it was clear the youngest Nordberg was in something of a dither (and was very cute).  The senior Nordberg and the redhead exchanged amused smiles.

"Is everything alright, Princess?" Nora inquired.

Before answering Danica's blue eyes gaze darted from her mother, to Kenzy, then back to her mother.  "Uh, yeah.  Sure.  Hunky-dory."  She then started tugging on Gabby's arm, trying to pull her to her feet.  "I just need to show Gabby something," she explained (sort of), then focused on Kenzy once again.  "Sam is upstairs.  She's fine."  She then resumed tugging on Gabby's arm, who was still sitting in her chair, smiling and relaxed.

Kenzy frowned.  "Why shouldn't she be upstairs, and why shouldn't she be fine?  Did something happen?"

"No!  Nothing!" Danica answered.  "Come on!" she hissed at her cousin, still tugging on her arm.
 
"I better see what has her so worked up," Gabby chuckled as she climbed to her feet and finally let her young cousin drag her towards the library door.

Kenzy was half out of her chair.  "Should I come along?"  She frowned at Danica.  "Did Sam do something?"

Gabby paused in the threshold, still smiling and easily resisting her young cousin's efforts to hurry her along.  "I'll handle it," she reassured Kenzy, "whatever it is."  She then focused her smile on Danica.  "Lead on, Princess," she purred, then stopped resisting and let herself be dragged (led) away.

Danica reversed course and leaned back into the library.  "Don't worry," she added as she pulled the door closed—Thud!—and Kenzy and Nora were alone.

"Have a seat, darling," Nora chuckled, taking hold of Kenzy's arm and gently pulling her back into her chair.  "Whatever it is that has Danica in such a kerfuffle, Gabby will handle it."

"As long as she isn't injured," Kenzy responded, "or worse yet, didn't do something stupid... meaning Sam."

Nora's smile was reassuring.  "If Sam was in trouble, my Princess would be dragging you upstairs.  Don't worry.  She has a good head on her shoulders... meaning Danica."

Kenzy sighed and settled back in her chair.  "Okay."  She'd grill Sam for the details of whatever had happened first chance they got, probably at lunch.

Sam tugged on her steel bonds and heaved a gagged sigh.  She assumed Danica had scampered away to find a duplicate or master key or some other means of freeing her from her bracer-cuffs, ankle-shackles, and bandana-wrapped-leather-padded-bit-gag (with locking steel band-strap).  Stretched in the standing spreadeagle imposed by the insidious mechanism mounted on the wall behind her back, Sam was up on her toes and on the balls of her bare feet with her heels off the hardwood floor.  The ankle-chains were taut to the point that she couldn't quite stand flatfooted; however, the cuffs were "comfortable" and not damaging her skin.  So... at the moment... it was no big deal.  The same went for the cuff-bracers on her wrists.  Clearly, the restraints had been explicitly designed to distribute her hanging weight as evenly as possible.  That said... it was either stand up on her toes or hang by her wrists, and neither option was high on her list.

Circumstances were tolerable, for now, but...  Sam tugged on her cuffs and flexed her feet, again.  She was helpless... totally helpless... and she definitely didn't like it.

As for the gag...  "Mrrrpfh."  Yes, Sam was gagged, and like the rest of her bonds, the device was well-designed but not what she could call some sort of ordeal.  Tight, but certainly not painful.  "Mrrrf."  And it was effective, limiting both the volume and intelligibility of her side of any potential conversations... not that there was anybody in the tower room for her to talk to.

Suddenly, it occurred to Sam that her charming, flaxen-haired, incredibly cute assistant (and captor) had been inexplicably stupid!

She looked back over her shoulder and focused on the "master wheel" of the Insidious Mechanism, meaning the wheel Danica had turned to shorten the chains and inexorably pull her up on her toes and into her present semi-stretched predicament.  Why didn't she turn the damn wheel back before she scampered away? Sam fumed.  I could be standing here with my feet flat on the damn floor!  Hell, I could be sitting on the damn floor if she'd turned it all the way!  Moron!

Sam stopped glaring at the mechanism.  After all, it wasn't the gears and wheels and other components' fault, and it was an unprofessional craftswoman, indeed, who blamed a tool, device, or any other inanimate object for a bad situation or botched outcome.  Also... Danica had clearly been flustered and overexcited when she left.  Sam decided she'd still give the dizzy blonde a solid thump up the side of her empty head once she was free, but she wasn't really angry... much.  Sam heaved a disgruntled sigh.  Also...  it was probably bad policy to beat on your boss' daughter, even if she is a chicken-brained idiot!

Just then, the tower door flew open and the chicken-brained idiot blonde in question scampered back into the room—and she wasn't alone!  Her older cousin was with her!

"My.  Oh.  My," Gabby purred as she made a slow, casual beeline for the center of the room and poor, helpless, bound, gagged, and spreadeagled Sam.  Gabby was still dressed as she'd been at breakfast, sandals and a breezy sundress (in a pattern of yellow daisies on a white background), and her longish, straight, blond hair was still loose and framing her angelically smiling face.

Meanwhile, Danica had scampered to the right-hand wardrobe and was pointing down at the broken drawer and scattered heap of keys on the floor.  "There's only supposed to be one key!" she wailed, "and they're all different!"

Still smiling, Gabby had stopped directly in front of Sam and was in the process of confirming that the ginger prisoner's restraints were all locked... including the bandana-covered and leather-padded steel bit-gag.  "The other wardrobe, dork," she chuckled, obviously for her young cousin's benefit.

Danica blinked her pale blue eyes.  "Huh?"  She glanced at the left wardrobe, then back at Gabby's back (and Sam's half-obscured gagged, stretched, helpless, and glaring front), then scampered to the wardrobe in question, opened its right door, and found a column of cubbyhole drawers identical to the stack bisecting the interior of the right wardrobe.  There was even another drawer at eye level with a skeleton-key-shaped pull!  Oh-by-the-way, the majority of the back wall of the right side of the left wardrobe was taken up by coils of neatly bundled hemp rope and various black leather straps with steel buckles, all hanging from hooks and pegs.

Danica opened the left wardrobe's key-pull drawer, reached inside... and extracted a single steel barrel-key.  "Oh," she remarked profoundly.  The key was attached to a long, thin, silver or steel necklace of nested links.

"Well... bring it here," Gabby chuckled, and Danica scampered forward and placed the key and necklace in her older cousin's hand.

Gabby looked from Sam... to Danica... then back to Sam.  She was still smiling (and was clearly enjoying herself).  "Nora and I don't mind if you play with the Family Collection, but please... not during work hours."  She turned back to Danica.  "And as for you, young lady... you know that all play happens in accordance with the Family Rules."  She proceeded to tick off what Sam assumed were the rules in question on her fingers, one by one.  "Rule number one: no clothing!"  She turned back to Sam.  "That's so none of your things get soiled or ripped."  She turned back to her cousin.  "Rule number two: no marking the skin.  No whip-marks, rope-burns, or bruises—and above all—Rule number three: no bloodletting!"  She turned back to Sam.  "Does all that sound reasonable, Sam?"

Sam blinked her green eyes several times, then nodded frantically.  "Mrrrf!"  Nakedness aside, no rope-marks or bruises did indeed sound reasonable, and no blood was profoundly reasonable.

"Good," Gabby chuckled, then dropped the necklace chain over her head, freed her hair, and tucked the key down her décolletage and between her breasts.  She then took hold of Danica's left earlobe and strolled towards the left wardrobe!

Danica had no choice but to follow.  "Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!"

They arrived at the area midway between the two wardrobes and in front of the cafe table and straight chairs and Gabby released Danica's ear and pointed to the floor.  "Stay right here, and strip."

"That hurt," Danica pouted as she rubbed her offended ear, then heaved a profoundly wounded sigh and followed her cousin's orders.

Sam watched in amazement (see also surreptitious approval) as Danica pulled off her sneakers... followed by her anklets... then neatly arranged the shoes side-by-side with the anklets tucked inside.  She then pulled her Periwinkle-blue tank-top over her head, carefully folded it, and dropped it atop the sneakers.  She wasn't wearing a bra, so was now topless, and in Sam's opinion the youngest Nordberg had a very nice pair of hooters.  They weren't all that big, but they had a pleasing shape.  She also had nipples, of course, and they were also nice.  Sam also noted that from the waist up Danica was very pale, which was hardly surprising.  Next, Danica removed her denim cutoffs... followed by her white, lace-trimmed bikini-briefs.  They were also neatly folded and dropped on the sneakers, anklets, and tank-top... and Danica was naked.  She was also blushing, carefully not looking at Sam, and incredibly cute.  Sam decided if she started scampering and dithering, the totally exposed blonde would break the cuteness-meter!

Meanwhile, Gabby had strolled to the left wardrobe and selected a generous coil of hemp rope.  Sam and Danica watched as Gabby released the coil's retaining hitch and wrappings, let it fall open, doubled it and found the center, then smiled and strolled back to Danica.

Sam continued watching—how could she not?—as Gabby proceeded to tie up her naked young cousin.  This took a surprisingly short time, thanks to Danica's sad-faced lack of resistance and Gabby's obvious rope expertise.  The end result was Danica hogtied on her stomach on the hardwood floor.  Her wrists and ankles were tied together in close proximity with her heels resting on her firm, pale buttocks.  Doubled strands of rope yoked her shoulders, pinned her upper arms to her sides, pressed her elbows firmly together, then reinforced the wrist-bonds-to-ankle-bonds contact.  It was a stringent hogtie, and the final knot involved a couple of feet of rope being wrapped around itself and tied off through the rope junction between Danica's shoulder blades.

Standing with her arms crossed under her breasts, Gabby smiled (gloated) and watched as her young cousin wiggled, squirmed, and tested her bonds.  The pathetic blond captive also whined profoundly mournful but inarticulate complaints—"Ohhh!"—grimaced, and shook her head, causing her twin braids to flop.  In Sam's opinion, this increased Danica's cuteness factor to a solid nine-point eight.

Meanwhile, Danica had paused her pathetic escape attempts to lift her pouting chin and glare up at her smiling older cousin.  "Why are you being so mean?" she demanded.

"Oh, Princess," Gabby chuckled.  "If I was in a mean mood I'd wedge a spider-gag in your silly mouth and tie the ends of your braids to your big toes, taut as piano-wire.  Now, be quiet."  And with that she smiled and strolled in Sam's direction.

Sam watched as Gabby approached, wondering what, exactly, was a "spider-gag."  Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.  She continued watching as Gabby tugged on the chain around her neck and produced the barrel-key from between her boobs.  (By the way, the boobs in question looked to be just as more-than-small-but-less-that-huge as Danica's.  Also, Sam wasn't at all sure Gabby was wearing a bra.  (Not that it mattered or anything.)  Anyway...

Still smiling the same friendly (and gloating) smile, Gabby slid the key into the lock on the right end of Sam's gag, given it a turn—Click!—the lock disengaged, and the gag's steel strap went slack.  Gabby helped Sam expel the doubly-padded bit from her mouth and the entire gag out from under her red ponytail.

Sam licked her lips and swallowed as Gabby unwrapped Danica's powder-blue bandana from around the leather-padded bit.  "T-thanks," Sam croaked.

"You're welcome," Gabby grinned, then unwrapped, unfolded, and held up the now slightly damp bandana.  "Yours?"

"Uh, no," Sam answered, then nodded at the hogtied blonde across the room.  "The airhead's."

"Hey!" Danica objected.

"I thought so," Gabby chuckled, then smiled up at the chains overhead.  "How did she trick you into this?"

"Oh...  That..."  Sam tugged on her wrist cuffs.  "I guess you could say I, uh... volunteered?"

"I see," Gabby grinned.  "I take it you've never heard the cautionary tale about curiosity and the cute little ginger fox?"

Sam blushed.  "Obviously not."  Did she just call me a 'cute little ginger fox?' Sam noted.  That's mean... isn't it?

Meanwhile, Gabby had used the key to unlock Sam's right wrist-cuff-bracer, swung open the hinge, and Sam was able to lower her right arm... which was a good thing.  She was now in a semi-stringent three-point stretch.  Gabby placed the key and necklace-chain in Sam's right palm.  "Whatever you do, don't drop that."

"Uh, okay," Sam responded, "and... thanks."

"You're welcome," Gabby said, leaned close and planted a kiss on Sam's lips, then spun on her sandal-clad heels, strolled back to the right-hand wardrobe, and returned the steel D-shaped bit-gag to its former hook.

She knows where it belongs, Sam silently noted, meaning the correct storage location of the bit-gag.  She then watched as Gabby knelt beside Danica and stuffed the crumpled powder-blue bandana into the naked and hogtied captive's mouth.

"Mrrrpfh!" Danica complained, but didn't spit out the semi-saliva-soaked wad.  "Nrrrm!" she complained again as her older cousin scooped up her neatly stacked clothes, sneakers and all, and strolled to the chamber door.

"Okay, Sam," Gabby said as she opened the door, "if you don't show up at lunch I'll tell your big sister you're busy torturing the Princess and decided you weren't hungry.  Later."  And with that announcement she made her exit.  Thud.

Sam and Danica stared at the closed door... then turned their heads to stare at each other.

Sam decided the voluntary stuff-gag slightly protruding from between Danica's lips had upped her cuteness factor to nine-point-nine... then carefully set about the task of releasing herself from her remaining steel bonds, first taking the precaution of deftly flipping the dangling necklace-chain around her right wrist... twice.  That way she'd have a fighting chance of catching the key if she did fumble and drop it.  She then took a firm grip on the key's bow, reached for the left wrist-cuff-bracer... and was very happy to find that she could just reach the lock and insert the key, give it a turn, and extract her left hand!  Yippee!  She then bent at the waist and released her ankle-cuffs, first on her left... and then on her right.

Across the room, Danica had watched Sam's graceful/acrobatic efforts to successfully free herself and decided the redhead had upped her cuteness factor to a solid eight-point-three, and only Sam's unfortunate lack of nudity had prevented the number from going much higher.  Next time, Danica mused.  She'll be naked next time... and I'll finally be able to see if she has allover freckles or tan-lines, meaning freckle-lines.

Sam padded to the doorway, sat on the floor with her back to the wall, and set about the task of donning her socks and work-boots.  Mission accomplished, she stood and stomped over to Danica.

Danica lifted her chin and gazed up at her potential rescuer with the saddest, most pitiful, and most sympathy-inducing expression she could muster, batting her blue eyes for added effect.

Sam chuckled and rolled her green eyes.  "Spit that ridiculous thing out of your mouth," she ordered.

Still gazing up at Sam, Danica did so... then batted her eyes again, for even more added effect.

Sam wasn't buying it.  She was smiling, however, just barely.  "You are not that stupid," she huffed.  "You left me up on my toes like that on purpose."

"Well, yeah," Danica admitted.  "You wanted to play... so I helped you play."

"Was Gabby in on this the whole time, or did you improvise?"

Danica tried to shrug, but thanks to her bondage was only partially successful.  "A little of both," she admitted.

"I see," Sam purred.  Actually, she didn't see, but it didn't really matter.  Sam was now sure Danica had only been pretending to be an airhead and Gabby pretending to be a meanie, so...  Hands on hips, she frowned and heaved a petulant sigh; however...  No harm, no foul, she decided, then knelt and set about untying Danica's hogtie bonds.  "What are we gonna tell my big sister?" she asked.

Danica grinned (unseen by her rescuer).  "What do you mean?"

Sam rolled her eyes.  "I mean... I don't know what happened downstairs after you so callously abandoned me," Sam said as she continued untying Gabby's handiwork, "which means you have to tell me so we can get our stories straight."
 
"Oh.  That makes sense," Danica chuckled as her bonds continued melting away.  "I didn't say much of anything, but how 'bout this: I was showing you an old wardrobe, accidentally broke one of the drawers, panicked 'cause I knew it was one of Gabby's favorites, and ran down to tell her so she could forgive me.  It has the virtue of being true, except for the part about the wardrobe being Gabby's favorite.  We'll completely leave out the bondage stuff.  What ya think?"

"That should work," Sam nodded, "but don't get carried away with embellishments.  I'll back you up, but let me handle my sister."

"Okay."  Danica was finally free.  She scrambled to her bare feet, coiled her former bonds, and returned them to their former place in the left-hand wardrobe.  "Key," she said, holding out her right hand.  Sam handed her the barrel-key and its necklace-chain and Danica returned them to their former drawer.

Sam strolled over to the broken drawer and pile of keys in front of the right wardrobe, then nudged the drawer remnants with the toe of her right boot.  "That might be repairable, but its probably better if I just salvage the finished front and rebuild the rest."

"You can do that?" Danica asked.

"Easy-peasy," Sam replied.

"My hero!" Danica gushed.

"Shut-up!" Sam barked (and smiled).

Danica picked up her semi-slimy bandana and they made their exit—and much to her delight they found her neatly stacked clothing waiting in the corridor.  No humiliating streaking through the mansion to her bedroom would be required!

"I guess Gabby isn't such an evil bitch-monster after all," Sam purred.

Danica shook her head (causing her braids to sway) then started getting dressed.  "You don't know her like I do," she huffed.

When Sam and Danica arrived at the kitchen, Danica immediately launched into a detailed explanation of why she'd interrupted the elders' planning conference to drag Gabby up to the attic to look at the broken wardrobe drawer so she could be forgiven.  Sam simply smiled and watched the show.  Danica kept talking, and talking, and talking, and everyone decided to just let her babble.

Sam noted several things as she consumed her sandwich (sliced turkey, Gouda cheese, lettuce, tomato, and mayo, on white bread):

1.  Her big sister started out very curious about The Broken Drawer Incident... but soon lost interest (although it was clear she was amused by Danica's dithering blonde routine).

2.  Nora, the Nordberg matriarch, was tolerant of her daughter's antics and supremely unconcerned about what might or might not have happened upstairs.  Sam reminded herself that Nora had to know about the insidious stretching machine up in the attic tower, so it remained largely uncertain exactly what the Nordberg family dynamic was with respect to Sam and Danica sneaking off to play games when not working.

3.  Obviously, Gabby knew exactly what had happened upstairs, but was pretending to be totally unconcerned and entertained by Danica's routine.  Sam decided the 30-something gorgeous blonde would require careful watching.

Anyway, when lunch was over and it was time to get back to work, Sam mentioned the old wiring in the attic, suggested that it all needed to be replaced with modern cabling, but agreed that finishing the initial survey remained the first priority.  After helping with the post-lunch cleanup, Sam and her blonde assistant returned to the upper reaches of the mansion and continued their work.

"Well, that was easy," Danica chuckled as they climbed the Grand Staircase.

"Don't be cocky," Sam muttered, "and no more playing with your family's evil contraptions today.  We're behind and need to make up some time."

"Yes, boss," Danica purred.

"Stop that!" Sam huffed.

Danica smiled and innocently batted her eyes.  "What?"

"Nothing," Sam growled... and they continued to the next space on the list on Danica's clipboard.

The rest of this very eventful Day One of the Nordberg Mansion Renovation Project unfolded as planned.  Sam and Danica made up for lost time and finished inspecting all the disconnected attic spaces on their list.  This was possible because, as it turned out, most of the remaining "rooms" were spire interiors without electrical wiring or lighting, and none of them had damaged windows, roof leaks, wildlife intrusions, or elaborate fun-with-bondage installations.

Sam was debriefed by her big sister before dinner, but they focused on what she'd discovered upstairs with respect to the building survey.  Kenzy did mention the "Broken Drawer" pre-lunch kerfuffle and Sam backed up Danica's story.  It was clear that her big sister wasn't entirely fooled, but was willing to let the whole thing drop as long as Sam promised to keep her nose to the proverbial grindstone and not let Danica derail her due diligence.  Sam readily agreed (and was somewhat relieved).

Dinner was on the attached deck off the mansion's main kitchen and was more-or-less a celebratory feast with burgers and beer.  Everyone had a good time and it was clear the Nordbergs and Munros had became fast friends.

Afterwards, Sam retired to her bedroom, stripped to her panties and tank-top (her usual pajamas), and settled into the queen-size bed to knock off a few chapters of her latest paperback, Changeless, the second novel in Gail Carriger's Parasol Protectorate series.  Steampunk Victorian melodrama with vampires, werewolves, airships, period costumes, and hilariously clever writing!  Woohoo!

Suddenly, the bedroom door cracked opened, Danica slipped inside, and quietly closed the door behind her.  (Thud.)  The blonde was dressed in a decidedly skimpy pale-blue baby-doll nightie, with her stylishly tousled flaxen hair pulled back and held by a narrow, baby-blue ribbon.  A pair of pale-blue fluffy slippers were on her feet and Danica was showing a lot of leg (in the neighborhood of 97%).  Also, the gauze-thin fabric and multitude of lace left very little to Sam's imagination.  Danica was very girly, one might even say excessively girly.  Sam was impressed... and amused.

Oh-by-the-way, Danica was carrying a small, cheerfully multi-colored, ballistic nylon gym-bag/duffel-bag.  She flounced towards Sam, dropped the bag on the foot of the bed, and smiled broadly.

"Hi-ya!" Danica gushed.

"Uh... hi-ya," Sam responded with a marginal welcoming smile of her own.  "Can I help you?"

"Yeah!"  Danica unzipped the bag and pulled out a neatly bundled coil of white, ¼" diameter, braided nylon rope (or cord, or whatever).  "Before we can start playing I need to make sure you're qualified."

Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow.  "Qualified?"

"Yeah, qualified," Danica nodded (while smiling like an incredibly cute idiot).  Then, she reached back into the bag and produced four more identical bundled coils of the same thin white rope.

Sam (who wasn't born yesterday) shook her head.  "No.  Not gonna happen.  You are not gonna tie me up."

Danica paused, her beautiful face in a confused frown... then her smile returned.  "No, silly," she giggled.  "You're gonna tie me up so I can evaluate your baseline rigging skills."  She then kicked off her fluffy slippers, pulled her nightie over her head and dropped it on the bed, then pulled down and stepped out of her panties, dropped them atop her nightie... and was nude (except for the blue ribbon).

Sam's green eyes were wide and staring at Danica's pale, smooth, firm, curvaceous, (etc., etc.), body.  "Huh?" she gasped, alternating her astonished gaze between Danica and the pile of neatly bundled rope.  Finally, she swallowed, licked her lips, and pointed at the empty nightie and panties.  "Why are you, uh..."

"Naked?"  Danica grinned and struck a stereotypical glamorous/seductive pose.  "Weren't you paying attention when Gabby explained the rules?  No clothing!"

"But..."  Sam tucked her bookmark in the her Changeless paperback and tossed it on the bedside table.  "Do we have to do this tonight?  I mean, no!  Not tonight!  Put your nightie back on and get out!  I have to work in the morning, and so do you."

Danica giggled and rolled her eyes.  "Oh, yeah, poor thing, you're exhausted.  I can tell."  She picked up one of the coils, released its retaining hitch and wrappings, then tossed it to Sam.  "Do your best."  She turned her back and crossed her wrists atop her firm, pale pink buttocks.  "By which I mean do your worst."

Sam had caught the mass of thin rope without difficulty, but continued frowning at her uninvited, naked, and demanding guest.

Danica looked back over her right shoulder, smiled, and batted her blue eyes.  "Well?"

Sam scowled at the mess of rope in her freckled hands.  Why not? she decided, then slid from between the covers, climbed to her feet, and set to work.

It took a while, but the end result was a naked Danica Nordberg lying on the bed and bound from head to foot.  Actually, she was bound from just above her boobs to her ankles, but Sam knew the "head to foot" description was traditional.  Specifically, an abundance of thin rope lashed Danica's crossed wrists together behind her back—her ankles together, side-by-side—her legs together above and below her knees—and finally, around her torso and her upper arms, above and below her pale boobs.

"There," Sam huffed, smiling in the triumph of a job well done.  "That'll hold ya."

Danica struggled and squirmed on the rumpled bed.  "Hmm...  Not too bad.  Not too tight.  Not too loose.  Decent knot placement.  But abysmal style.  Kimiko-sama would be... unimpressed."

Sam remembered that "Kimiko" was the gorgeous 40-something Japanese financial expert who would be returning to the mansion from her trip to New York in a few days.  "Sorry to disappoint," she purred, then leaned close, rolled Danica onto her stomach (and boobs), and doubled the knot securing her "victim's" upper arms and torso bonds.  She continued watching (and smiling) as Danica continued struggling... and making no apparent headway in freeing herself.

After several seconds of concentrated effort... Danica rolled onto her back and smiled up at her captor.  "Okay.  We have something we can work with here.  Untie me, get naked, and I'll show you how I would have done it."

Smiling and standing beside the bed with her freckled arms folded under her breasts (in a classic gloating pose) Sam shook her head.  "Not.  Likely.  You need time to finish your evaluation of my not-stylish-but-apparently adequate rope skills, don't you?"  She started zipping the gym-bag closed, then noticed there were a couple of more bundles of thin rope still inside, as well as something else.  Grinning broadly, she reached inside and extracted what was clearly gag with a lime-green rubber ball as a mouth plug, an oval-shaped panel of chamois-thin, butternut-tan leather with a rounded cutout for the wearer's nose, a main strap that would buckle at the nape of the wearer's neck, and a thinner strap that would buckle under her chin.

"Oh, I forgot that was in there," Danica said quietly.

"Liar," Sam chuckled, zipped the bag closed and dropped it on the floor at the foot of the bed, then sat on the bed with the gag held between her two hands.

"Seriously," Danica said, "I need to show you how to do this right, to reinforce the lesson."  Her blue eyes were on the gag's bright green rubber sphere as it approached her lips.  "Uh, wait.  Sam!—Mrrrf!"

Smiling like the wicked kidnapper she was pretending to be, Sam crammed the ball into Danica's indignant mouth, tightened and buckled the main strap at the nap of her neck and under her hair, then tightly buckled the chin-strap under her chin.

"Mrrrpfh!" Danica complained, but her gagged expression was more one of disappointment than anger and/or alarm.

"There," Sam purred, straightening Danica's blond curls.  "Now, show me how to escape from something like this... then you can scamper back to your bedroom.  And don't take too long.  We do have to work in the morning.''

"Mrrrm," Danica whined, batting her blue eyes at her villainous captor.

Still smiling, Sam noted that the thin leather of the panel revealed the shape of Danica's lips and the end of the ball plugging her mouth in three-dimensional detail.  Sam then leaned close and planted a kiss on her captive's forehead.  Then, she pulled the covers over Danica's quite obviously helpless, naked, and inescapably bound and gagged form... slid between the covers next to her, then leaned to the side and turned off the bedside reading light.  The blonde captive and red-haired captor weren't quite touching... but it was a near thing.

"Goodnight, Princess," Sam purred.

"Mrnrfh" ("Goodnight"), Danica responded.

Sam rolled onto her side with her back to Danica, acutely aware of her naked naked, bound, and gagged prisoner's proximity.  Sam's heart was pounding.  Princess Danica's heart might also be pounding, but how the hell would Sam be able to tell?  Their bodies weren't touching.  Sam realized she was of two minds:

Mind #1:  What the hell is happening??  And what's gonna happen next??

Mind #2:  Wow!!  This is cool!!  Bat-shit crazy?  Yes, but cool!!

A few minutes passed and Sam felt her body and mind begin to relax (kinda... maybe).  Well, she mused, this is happening.  Sam decided to let a few more minutes pass... to let Danica think she was going to leave her bound and gagged all night... then she'd untie her and send her scampering on her way.  That'll work, Sam decided.  Pleased with her wicked plan, Sam closed her green eyes.

Not far away (of course), Danica focused on the back of her "student's" head.  Even by the dim light of the bedroom's weakly glowing nightlight, she could detect the reddish glint of Sam's ginger hair.  Perfect, she decided.  Everything is proceeding according to plan.  If she wasn't bound and gagged, Danica thought she'd probably be rubbing her hands together and cackling like some kind of stereotypical cartoon villain, but she was bound and gagged... so she'd have to settle for silently and helplessly basking in her, uh, "success."

Also, Danica decided she'd wait a few minutes, 'til Sam had a chance to fall fully asleep, then she'd do something about the thin white rope binding her wrists.  After that, slowly... carefully... so as not to awaken her incredibly cute, freckled, red-haired tomboy of a captor, she'd deal with the rest of her bonds.

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Chapter 2

Chapter 4

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