by Van © 2023
		Chapter 7

Danica toiled away for hours, dabbing at the canvas and painting her portrait og the nearly-naked, bound, and gagged Sam.  As a consequence, both the artist and her model missed lunch!  Sam tried her best to bring up the subject of taking a meal break.  After all, the idea of enjoying a nice yummy sandwich was such an obviously good idea.  However, of course, she was gagged, Danica was "in the zone," concentrating on her work and doing her artist thing with confidence and competence.  Danica repeatedly glanced at her model for reference purposes, of course, but studiously ignored Sam's attempts to communicate.

It was infuriating!  Danica simply refused to take the hint!  The pinioned prisoner bound in place atop the daybed repeatedly squirmed in her inescapable bonds, both for comfort and to communicate her displeasure, but was studiously ignored—while simultaneously being the entire center of attention!  Infuriating!  Sam knew her portrait painter wasn't totally clueless, so maybe the dizzy blonde was assuming her model was squirming in place, tugging on her bonds, and fighting her bonds in order to work up a nice sweat, as she'd ordered.  That was reasonable... but still infuriating.

Anyway... eventually... Sam tired of squirming, wiggling, and trying to get free, and simply relaxed, glaring at her portrait painter as she hung loosely (and sullenly) in her bonds.  At some point the prisoner-of-the-daybed closed her sullen, resentful green eyes... and actually drifted off to sleep!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z z z ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam was having a rather disturbing dream.

In it, she was helplessly bound and gagged!  Specifically, she was ball/panel-gagged, box-tied, her legs were folded to the side and her knees and ankles tied, and her ankle bonds were looped and cinched around and between her upper thighs, making it impossible for her to unfold her legs!.  She was also lying on her side atop a soft, comfy bed in a sunny room, and she was naked... almost.  The left spaghetti-strap of a skimpy, unashamedly feminine camisole (in a very pretty shade of spruce-green she really liked and hoped was available in a tank-top) was off her left shoulder, thereby exposing 90% of her left boob and 100% of the related nipple!  Unfortunately, the wispy blue-green top in question was her only garment, which meant she was 100% naked from her midriff to her wiggling toes!  In addition to the toe action, Sam squirmed and writhed and rolled on the rumpled sheets of the soft mattress to the amount allowed by her inescapable bonds, all to no avail.  Yes, Sam was a helpless prisoner; however, inexplicably, she felt safe and warm... also safe, overheated, and sweaty.  Also, her tousled red hair could use a good brushing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z—What?              

Sam's green eyes popped open.  She was awake... and her dream was reality!  She was, indeed, naked (not counting the rumpled camisole), box-tied, her legs folded and tied together, and she was gagged with the brown leather panel gag/muzzle/half-mask with the ugly green mouth-plug.  Also, she was still on the daybed in Danica's Studio, and the only thing changed from the modeling session was that all the guy-ropes that had been pinning her in place—both on the mattress and in an upright kneeling position—had been untied!  The ropes was still there, and some were still tautly stretched across the mattress, but none of the ropes that had rigidly enforced her former modeling pose were intact.  In fact, most of the hemp strands were lying in tangles on the floor.  Even the vertical rope looped through the iron ring over her head had been pulled to the side, tied off, and was now a diagonal rope, well away from Sam and the daybed.

Oh-by-the-way, Danica (her esteemed artist and perfidious captor) was nowhere to be seen.  A linen cloth was draped over the canvas resting on the easel, but the painter herself was AWOL.  Based on the light still flooding the Studio, by Sam's best guess it was mid-afternoon.  So... no Danica.  Sam was alone in the Studio.  She was no longer rigidly tethered and effectively immobilized in Danica's modeling position of choice, but she was still naked (mostly), bound, gagged, and wiggling on the daybed!  It was an outrage!

Sam heaved a sigh and considered her options.  She supposed she could wiggle and squirm, roll off the mattress, and land with the floor with a potentially painful thud.  Then, if she survived, she could wiggle and squirm her way to the closed and probably locked Studio door, dragging her tits and bare thighs across the carpet in the process... but that would be the height of futility.  She'd still be naked (mostly), bound, gagged, and stuck in Danica's artistic abode.  Better to remain on the daybed.

Sam heaved another gagged sigh, gave her inescapable bonds a final perfunctory struggle... and settled in to rest until her artist returned.  As it turned out, Sam didn't have long to wait.

Click!

That was the Studio door being unlocked, of course.  Sam lifted her head, shook her long, tousled ginger curls from her face as best she could, focused her best gagged scowl on the portal, and prepared to give Danica a piece of her mind, gag or no gag!  The door opened, Danica entered her studio... and everything changed!

"Mrrrf?" Sam whimpered.  Yes!  Whimpered!  Sam!  It was a whimper of shock rather than one of despair, but Sam never whimpered.  Ask Kenzy.

Danica was naked!  Also, her arms were behind her back and bound together from her fingertips to above her elbows in a black leather single-sleeve armbinder!  Yes, an armbinder!  Even a relative bondage newbie like Sam Munro recognized an armbinder when she saw one.  She also recognized the black leather body-harness encircling Danica's torso, pinning her armbinder-bound arms against her torso and cleaving her pussy!  The Princess' pale legs were free, but her mouth was plugged by a black silicon-rubber ball held in place by a black leather strap!  Her blue eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed, but it was unclear whether she was embarrassed or her "blush" was an artifact of the volume of the mouth-plug and the tightness of the strap.

And oh-by-the-way, entering the Studio right behind her naked, leather-bound, and ball-gagged daughter was Nora Nordberg!  The Matriarch-of-the-Mansion was wearing her usual sandals and sundress and had a broad smile on her angelic face.  Her right hand rested on Danica's left shoulder, keeping her under control and moving forward.  Obviously, not only was she cool with her daughter being naked, leather-bound, and ball-gagged, but she was actively in charge!

Crazy?  Hell yes it was crazy!  Sam continued staring and blinking in wide-eyed shock and amazement.

Also oh-by-the-way, every steel buckle of every black leather strap of Danica's restraint-costume that Sam could see was secured by a tiny steel padlock!  She couldn't see all the buckles, but the ones she could see were padlocked!  All the locks were identical and arguably cute little antiques, by the way, and Sam suspected they would require a tiny non-barrel-key or keys for removal, making them the first non-barrel-lock locks Sam could remember seeing since arriving at Nordberg Mansion.

At her mother's urging Danica sat on the daybed, then wiggled until she could recline next to her bound, gagged, and mostly-naked model.  The captives weren't touching, but they were quite close.  Both prisoners lifted their gagged heads and stared up at Nora with their green and pale blue eyes... then watched as Nora used part of one of Sam's former guy-ropes that was still stretched across the mattress to bind her daughter's crossed ankles together and tether her to the daybed.  The 50-something blonde beauty then took a step back, crossed her arms under her breasts, and smiled down at the bound and gagged 20-something redhead and blonde before her... then shifted her smile to focus exclusively on Sam.

"Samantha, darling," Nora purred, "I have good news."  She reached out and gently rested her palm on Sam's exposed hip.  "Kimiko-sama has agreed to take you on as her student!  Your big sister as well!  She'll teach the two of you everything you need to enjoy the family games safely and effectively."

"Mrrrgfh?" Sam inquired.
 
Nora chuckled and patted Sam's bare (freckled) hip.  "I know you have a lot of questions, dear, so..."   She sorted through the loose ropes still on the daybed, then set to work.  A great deal of halfhearted squirming and gagged complaining ensued, but Sam and Danica couldn't impede Nora's rigging actions.  Hemp rope slithered and was cinched tight... and finally the smiling matriarch stepped back, crossed her arms under her breasts, and inspected her handiwork.

Danica's ankles still tightly tethered to the daybed's mattress and she was lying on her left side in a more-or-less hogtied predicament—Sam was on her right side, similarly hogtied—and the two captives were now bound together tummy-to-tummy!  Nora had taken several tight turns around Danica and Sam's waists, tied a tight knot to maintain this belly-on-belly intimacy, then used the rest of the rope to pin their mutual tummy-bonds to the mattress!  Just as Danica had used the Trucker's Hitch to tighten Sam's guy-ropes when the redhead was kneeling in modeling pose, Nora had used the same technique to stringently pin the "youngsters" on the mattress.

Sam and Danica were face-to-face, boob-to-boob, thigh-to-thigh, and especially belly-to-belly.  They focused on each others gagged faces... then turned their heads to glare at Nora.

Danica was peeved that her maternal unit had done something this kinky to her without provocation.  She'd done nothing wrong... other than use her status as an artist to have fun at the expense of Sam, their adorable ginger tomboy, house-guest, and employee.

Sam, on the other hand, could tell Danica was ticked off and/or discombobulated, and the ginger captive was conspiring with her fellow prisoner to use their mutual outrage as an excuse to ignore the erotic aspects of her (their) current situation.  They were presenting a unified front of Righteous Umbrage!  Yeah, that should work.

"And now, Samantha," Nora purred, unperturbed by the display of mostly naked, bound, gagged, and glowering condemnation before her, "as I said, I know you have a lot of questions.  That's why I'm going to give you this extended interval to organize your thoughts."  She shifted her serene smile to her daughter.  "And as for you, Princess.  I'm making it your responsibility to help Samantha make the most of this unique opportunity.  You'll continue your artistic activities, of course, and will continue your own tutelage as Kimiko-sama's student; but Samantha is now your fellow student, and she'll need help to adapt to Sensi's teaching methods.  You will be that help, and therefore you'll also need time to organize your thoughts."

Nora kissed Danica's forehead... then did the same to Sam.  "I'll see you two at dinner," she purred, spun on her sandal-clad feet... gracefully strolled through the Studio door... and closed it behind her.

Click.

The prisoners-of-the-daybed stared at the closed and locked door... stared at each other (awkwardly)... then heaved gagged sighs in perfect unison.

Sam found herself fighting the urge to wiggle, squirm, and test the efficacy of Nora's tummy-to-tummy rope bondage—and the etiquette of The Game—specifically, the supposed requirement for a Courtesy Struggle—had nothing to do with it.  In the first place, their Rigger was no longer present, so a Courtesy Struggle served no purpose—and in the second place, her boobs were in partial contact with Danica's!  In fact, the four half-globes were semi-squashed together!  Sam couldn't tell if her nipples were still erect, but they were definitely tingling... probably with outrage, but who could tell?  As for the captives' flat tummies, they were full-blown, rope-enforced, really squashed together, and there was no "semi" about it!  Also, there was a definite possibility that sweat was involved.  Squirming might confirm that perspiration was lubricating the interface, so Sam willed herself to remain still.  Their thighs were also in contact, but their boobs and abs were what she considered most important... that and their gagged faces.  They weren't touching but were in close proximity.

It was Danica who broke the stalemate... if you could call it that.  She rolled her shoulders (which caused their breasts to slide and wobble, a little).

Sam noticed that the bound and gagged blonde's cheeks were now definitely blushing... and her pale blue eyes were blinking.  She assumed either Danica was truly devoted to the concept of the Courtesy Struggle, or she was curious to see how much freedom of motion her mother had left them.  In either case, Danica's halfhearted struggles were providing the tactile data required to satisfy Sam's inquiries.  She was now reasonably sure that both her nipples and Danica's were rigid... meaning erect... meaning hard and pointing... probably.  She could feel the nubbins roaming through limited orbits as Danica's squirming caused their boobs to gyrate, slip, and slide.  Also, there was definitely a layer of sweat between their abdomens; however, the neat, tight, expertly tied band of rope allowed very little slipping and sliding.  Also, the area of direct contact was warm (meaning Danica's tummy felt warm against Sam's tummy).  Sam was warm in general, but her tummy was even warmer.

So... here we are, Sam mused as she settled in to wait for the dinner Nora had promised.  Several seconds later the junior partner in Munro Construction had another thought: This is going to play havoc with the work schedule.

Down in the Ridiculously Over-Complicated Rack Room, after an extended period of... way-too-long... Nora reappeared (smiling, of course) and used what Kenzy now strongly suspected was a gold-plated master (mistress) barrel-key dangling on the gold chain around her neck to unlock her steel restraints and release her from the Ridiculously Over-Complicated Rack.  Kenzy knew Gabby had one too, meaning a golden key, but at the moment it was elsewhere, not around Gabby's neck, and probably upstairs wherever Nora and Kimiko had stashed the Evil Blonde's sundress and sandals.

Anyway, once released, Kenzy sat up on the rack, rubbed her wrists (although they really didn't need it) and listened politely as Nora explained that dinner would be in one hour, would consist of grilled burgers and bratwurst (with all the fixings), and the venue would be the deck off the kitchen.  The Nordberg Matriarch then kissed Kenzy's forehead, spun on her sandal-clad feet (in a swirl of pretty sky-blue-with-yellow-daisies-sundress) and made her exit.

Kenzy remembered she was ball-gagged... parted her tousled crop of red hair, fumbled with the buckle, and did something about it.  She then tossed the perforated ball-gag onto the bed of the rack (where it tried its best to bounce but failed).  She then climbed off the rack, stretched her nude, mostly freckled body, full-length... "Eeeyah!" ...and got dressed.

Gabby watched in stoic naked, bound, and gagged silence.  She'd decided that forcing muffled, totally inarticulate complaints through the panties stuffed in her mouth and squirming in Kimiko-san's expertly and artistically applied, tight, inescapable ropes would be bad form, so she didn't.

Soon, Kenzy was not-so-fully dressed in her work-boots, socks, shorts, and tank-top.  Her panties were currently on gag duty (hence the not-so-fully qualification) so the redhead was "going commando."  She didn't mind.  As far as Kenzy was concerned, nothing coming between her cargo shorts and her pussy, crotch. and butt was no big deal.  Tomboys don't care about stuff like that.  Tomboys are stoic.  And speaking of stuffing...

"Mrrrpfh," Gabby remarked.  She figured it was time to remind Kenzy that implicit in Mother's dinner announcement was the assumption that they would both be presenting themselves for the event, properly clothed and ready to participate, and that could only happen if the former captive-of-the-rack rescued her former captor/torturer from Kimiko-sama's exquisite naked Kinbaku predicament.

Hands on hips with a surly grin on her freckled face, Kenzy openly gloated for several seconds... then did just that, meaning untied Gabby from the rack mechanism's iron stanchion.

As Gabby executed an extended full-body stretch of her own (after her cleave-gag was untied and the panties expelled from her mouth) the blonde and the redhead agreed that they would put off any discussion of the proclaimed Kimiko-Kenzy-Sam training program (and Gabby's ordered assistance) until later... like tomorrow... maybe even later... whenever they found a really good opportunity.  Also, Gabby should come back and coil and properly stow all of Kimiko's conditioned and obviously expensive bondage rope 'cause Kenzy certainly wasn't going to do it, so there!  Also, Gabby was responsible for getting Kenzy's panties properly laundered, folded, and delivered to her bedroom no later than the day after tomorrow.

Gabby solemnly agreed (smiling the whole time) and they made their way from the Ridiculously Over-Complicated Rack Room.

Meanwhile, upstairs in Danica's Artistic Inner Sanctum, Nora continued her damsel releasing duties by breezing into the Studio, repeating her dinner-is-in-one-hour announcement, then untying the captive youngsters' belly-rope, followed by enough of Sam's box-tie bonds that she'd be able to untie the rest herself (and eventually the rest of her bonds as well).  She then did the same graceful sandal-spin-and-sundress-swirl half-pirouette maneuver she's used downstairs in the Rack Room... and made her exit.  (She did not lock the Studio door behind her.  Obviously, that would have been counterproductive.)

It took some effort... but eventually Sam wiggled, twisted, squirmed, groped, and struggled her way out of the rest of her bonds.

Danica lay on her side in her black leather armbinder, body-harness, and ball-gag bondage, blinking her pale-blue eyes and watching as her model freed herself.

Finally rope free, Sam unbuckled her brown, chamois-thin leather panel-gag (with ugly-green silicon-rubber glob/mouth-stuffing), worked the glob in question out of her mouth, then dropped the device atop her former rope bonds on the daybed and next to Danica.  The "escaping" ginger then pulled the spruce-green camisole that had been her modeling costume over her head, and dropped it atop her former bonds.  Now totally naked, Sam stood, executed a full-body stretch (there was a lot of that going around) then loomed over the daybed, placed her fists on her hips and her bare feet about eighteen inches apart, and glowered (gloated) down at the still captive blonde still on the bed.  Seconds passed... then a hint of a smile curled the corner of Sam's lips as she leaned forward, turned Danica's head to the side, parted her tousled blond hair—and then, Sam sighed.

With all the twisting, turning, and squirming that had happened after Nora led her wayward daughter into the Studio, including the tying of the artist and her model tummy-to-tummy, Sam had had plenty of opportunity to confirm that all the buckles securing the straps of Danica's leather bonds were padlocked, but with a single exception: the ball-gag.  The Princess' flaxen tresses had been in the way... but now Sam had the required data.

The ball-gag was secured with yet another of the cute, tiny, but fully-functional padlocks, and Sam didn't have the key.  The youngsters of the household would not be having a meaningful discussion of recent events any time soon.

Well... that's that.  Danica was naked and helpless in leather bondage, as well as chewing on a medium-to-large black, silicon-rubber ball-gag, and there was nothing even a handywoman like Sam could do about it... not without a few tools.  Therefore, Sam did the only logical thing possible: she got dressed, donning her work-boots, cargo-shorts, tank-top, and panties.  Only then did she untie Danica's ankles and help her to her bare feet.

Danica squirmed in her bonds and stared at Sam.

Sam smiled (a little, and in an arguably saucy manner) and stared back.

There was nothing for it.  Sam was keyless.  Besides, Danica's naked bondage was her mother's fault.  So, now with a full-blown saucy smile, Sam draped her right arm over Danica's shoulders and led (dragged) her from the studio, knowing full well that once they joined the others for dinner out on the deck, Poor Danica would be the bondage elephant in the room.  Maybe Nora would produce the required key and release her beloved Princess, or maybe not—and then, the topic of Kimiko-sama tutoring the Munro sisters in the fine art of kinky games at the Nordberg level might or might not become a topic of general discussion.  In any case, Danica's entrance in leather-bound nudity would be exquisite, as well as a not so subtle reminder of the impending kinkiness.

And so it came to pass.  Poor Danica endured a great deal of teasing before Nora produced the required key, unlocked her daughter's ball-gag, then re-secured it on its first hole.  However, and not to Sam's great surprise (or disapproval), the key disappeared back down the maternal décolletage without unlocking the rest of Danica's bonds.  Sam helped Danica expel the ball from her mouth, and for the rest of the evening the gag dangled around the blonde's neck like a very ugly piece of costume jewelry.

Once the food was ready Sam took upon herself the responsibility for making sure Danica was adequately fed.  It was the least a model could do for her naked, leather-bound, and blushing artist.

As it turned out, during the meal and afterwards, the promised training program wasn't discussed—neither openly or surreptitiously—and neither in pairs or as a group.  It was just burgers, brats, and beer under the stars... or in Danica's case, burgers, brats, beer, and bondage under the stars.

The Munro sisters spent the next few days in the preparations required to replace the obsolete wiring in the mansion's upper reaches.  The appropriate circuit breakers were tripped and tagged out on the power panels down in the basement, then Sam began disconnecting the wires up in the attic spaces while on the floors directly below Kenzy set about the somewhat exacting process of opening the paneling to expose the full runs.  Prying apart the wood panels without causing damage was delicate work; however, Kenzy had nowhere near the degree of difficulty she'd been expecting.

As it turned out, the mansion's original architect had been something of a progressive in that he'd designed easy access to all the utilities throughout the entire structure.  That is, narrow, vertical ceiling-to-floor panels were integrated into the paneling design, mostly in the corners, and were held in place by wood-screws with decorative heads incorporated in the Gothic carving.  Once removed, every plumbing and wiring run was fully exposed, right up (and down) to the fire-blocks between floors!  Kenzy still had to use a utility knife to score the seams and sever the layers of lacquer and wax that had accumulated over the decades, then use a precision molding pry bar to open the strip, but compared to the effort required in comparable Gothic structures, it was a snap.

So, work progressed in a careful, professional manner.  Workday followed workday... and finally, the next Saturday arrived.

At breakfast Nora announced that she would be hosting Danica and Sam on a shopping, sightseeing, and luncheon expedition to the nearest good-sized town.  Kimiko announced that she would be hiking up one of the smaller nearby mountains for the purpose of meditating on the peak, and would thereby be gone for most of the day.  (Apparently, she did that sort of thing now and then.)  Finally, Gabby announced that she and Kenzy would be taking a long cross-country run on one of the estate's forest trails... to be followed by a relaxing swim in the greenhouse pool... to be followed by a bask in the sauna.  Also, Gabby and Kenzy would be responsible for dinner that night, which would be a yummy beef stew accompanied by an equally yummy Cabernet Sauvignon.  All the Nora-Danica-Sam Expedition had to do was remember to bring home a nice fresh loaf of French bread.

This was news to Kenzy, meaning that her entire Saturday was being usurped by a bossy blonde, but it sounded like fun so she decided to go along.  She did complain about the lack of consultation in a gruff manner, of course, but nobody was fooled, least of all Sam.

And speaking of Sam, she was delighted to let Nora and the Princess acquaint her with more of the area and treat her to an expensive lunch.  Also, as it turned out, she did have some shopping to do.  She needed to start upgrading her panties collection, for one thing.  Also, one can never have enough tank-tops.

Anyway, the shopping expedition piled into the Nordberg SUV and made their departure.  Nora and her daughter were in their usual pretty sundresses and sandals while Sam was in her finest sneakers, shorts, and a pretty top borrowed from Danica.

Shortly thereafter Kimiko-sama departed.  She was wearing hiking boots, hiking shorts, one of those lightweight, long-sleeve SPF hiking shirts (in a pretty shade of periwinkle-blue).  Also, a broad-brim sunhat was on her head, a day-pack on her back, and a hiking stick in her right hand.

So... Kenzy and Gabby had the entire mansion to themselves.  They were alone.

"Okay," Kenzy said as they watched Kimiko disappear into the trees, "I'll go change into my running clothes."

"Why?" Gabby inquired.

Kenzy rolled her eyes.  "Uh... so we can go running?"

"Don't be silly," Gabby huffed as she took hold of Kenzy's left hand and led her away.  "We're not going running."

Kenzy allowed herself to be led away.  "We're not?"

"We're not," Gabby confirmed.  "The running story was a clever subterfuge on my part to hide the true plan-of-the-day."

"So," Kenzy huffed, "not only did you not consult me before committing me to some sort of no doubt nefarious scheme, but you made me complicit in your perfidy by lying to our friends and family."

"I think 'perfidy' is a bit strong," Gabby purred, "but it's fun being wicked, isn't it?"

Kenzy didn't answer (other than to smile).  By this time they were upstairs and entering the mansion's residential area.  "Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"We're there," Gabby answered, opened a door, and they entered the bossy blonde's bedroom.  "Okay, strip," she suggested (ordered) as she finally released Kenzy's hand.

Kenzy crossed her arms under her breasts and favored Gabby with her best highly-skeptical-and-not-at-all-amused stare.  "Not until you tell me your intentions... and probably not even then."

Gabby's smile became undeniably sinister.  "We're going to continue your tour of the dungeons," she explained, "and our magnificent rack is only the tip of the torture engine iceberg, so to speak.  Also, I have to make you presentable before Kimiko-sama can begin your instruction."

Kenzy frowned (and ignored the subtle thrill quivering between her legs).  What's wrong with the way I look?" she demanded.
 
"Aside from too many clothes, nothing," Gabby chuckled.  "You'll see what I mean."

Still frowning, Kenzy pulled her tank-top over her head and tossed it on a chair.  "Now that you bring it up, when exactly does this instruction program start, and what'll it entail?"

"With respect to timing," Gabby purred, "that would be telling.  On the other hand, with respect to Kimiko-sama's curriculum, that would also be telling."

"Very funny," Kenzy muttered.  Soon, her sneakers, anklets, shorts, and tank-top were neatly folded and stacked on the chair seat and she was nude and ready to resume their tour of the dungeons... or thought she was, anyway.  Gabby thought she needed accessorizing.

First off, the gloating and irritatingly chipper blonde deployed a pair of chrome-steel handcuffs, spun the naked redhead around 180°, and snapped them around Kenzy's wrists behind her back.  "These are called 'Irish-eights,'" she lectured.  I like the way they hold your hands close together, either back-to-back or, like now, palm-to-palm.  Interlace your fingers for me."

Kenzy did so.  "Like this?"

"Perfect," Gabby grinned.  "I could get a roll of duct tape, electrical tape, or whatever, and wrap up your fingers and hands so they'd be completely covered and useless.  Or, I could add a pair of thumbcuffs.  Or, I could zip your thumbs together with a cable-tie.  Any of that would work."

"Yes, because heavy steel handcuffs alone would be ridiculous," Kenzy drawled.

"Exactly," Gabby agreed.  "You'd escape."  She then knelt and buckled a pair of tan-with-white-leather-padding medical cuffs around Kenzy's ankles. The cuffs' (or ankle fetters) D-rings were joined by an eight-to-ten inch length of elastic bungee cord covered in a black nylon fabric sheath.  Effectively, the cuffs and cord combo was a hobble, limiting Kenzy's steps and making running on her part quite obviously impossible.  In fact, ambulatory flight of any kind would now be a highly iffy proposition.

"Is all of this necessary?" Kenzy grumbled.

"Oh, absolutely," Gabby responded.  "Now..."  She produced a silicon-rubber object molded in a truly hideous shade of pastel purple and held it before Kenzy's frowning face.  "Open wide."

Kenzy stared at the putrid-lavender object in question.  During one of their debriefings Sam had mentioned that the Nordbergs' bondage arsenal included mouth-stuffing rubber appliances incorporating bite-protectors and tongue-trapping cavities, and Kenzy strongly suspected she was now staring at one such appliance.  Obviously, some sort of objection was in order.  At the very least the color was repulsive.  "No," she huffed.  "No way.  Not gonna happen.  There's absolutely no way I'm going to let you stuff that thing in my—Mrrrf!"

"This is one of Silencicone's earlier products," Gabby explained, "before somebody had the brainstorm of incorporating half-spheres in the mold to make the things look more like good-old-fashioned 'innocent' ball-gags.  Granted, it's a truly ugly color, but with your lips together that'll be our little secret."

Silenci-what? Kenzy wondered.  Also—"Nrrrmfh!"

"Hush," Gabby scolded, holding her left palm over Kenzy's mouth to prevent her from expelling the purple monstrosity.  "Now, bite down and hold still!"

Kenzy did, indeed, clench her teeth on the glob's semi-soft rubber molded channels and held still (for some inexplicable reason), then watched as Gabby used a pair of nurse's bandage scissors to snip a six-to-seven inch strip from a roll of thick, off-white medical tape—(Mircofoam?)—then stretch it between her two hands, press it home over Kenzy's closed lips and stuffed mouth.  Then, smiling sweetly (like the gloating villainess she was), Kenzy's blonde soon-to-be tour guide used her fingers to smooth the tape and enure it was optimally adhered to Kenzy's lower face from ear-to-ear and nose-to-chin.

"Three-dimensional lips," Gabby purred.  "So pretty, and hardly any sign at all that your mouth is stuffed with anatomical precision.  Perfect!"

Kenzy glowered at her smiling captor.  Yeah, 'perfect.'

"Now, off we go," Gabby said as she strolled to the bedroom door.  "We have the mansion to ourselves and can take as long as we want down below."  She paused in the threshold for Kenzy to follow.  "Well," she said finally.  "Don't make me fetch a riding crop.  Let's go!"

Naked, bound, and gagged, Kenzy scowled (as best she could with her mouth stuffed and taped shut), then stomped (padded) from her captor's bedroom, taking mincing steps, the only steps allowed by the bungee-hobble.

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Chapter 6

Chapter 8

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