by Van © 2025
		Chapter 5

As it turned out—and not counting "minor" details like costume, bondage, and order of march—the next phase of session two of round one of Nikki, Rosie, and Birdie's revised revival of the EAP-game was more-or-less a replay of session one round one on the previous evening.

Smiling broadly (meaning openly gloating like some sort of demented villainess), Nikki was in the lead, magnificent in her skintight but flexible catsuit of black leather (with boots, gloves, and integrated corset).  Her black leather riding crop was in the firm, gloved grip of her right hand with the end of the rope leash tied around Rosie's neck in her left.

And speaking of Rosie, the evening's Designated Bindee, the pouting brunette was naked and her wrists crossed and bound behind her back with conditioned hemp rope, and an integrated part of the tight arrangement encircled Rosie's waist with a pair of vertical knotted strands that cleaved both her butt-cheeks and lady-bits!  That's right, Poor Rosie had a crotch-rope!  Oh the drama!

Tail-end-Charlie was tail-end-Birdie, the evening's Neutral Observer.  While playing the original EAP-game back in the day at Cambridge, the observer would have had free rein to gloat and tease the evening's bindee, but one of Nikki's revisions of the game was to make both the session's bindee and observer her prisoner.  Trudging (padding) behind the others, Birdie's condition was identical to Rosie's, right down to the knotted crotch-rope.  The only difference was that Birdie's rope leash was tied to Rosie's bound wrists and not in Nikki's hand.  Oh the additional drama!

Nikki dragged (led) her coffle of two through the Magic-Mirror/Secret-Door in the back of her walk-in closet... into the maze of Secret Passageways honeycombing the upper stories of the mansion... down the Sinister Spiral Staircase... and into the labyrinth of subterranean Dungeons and Torture Chambers below.

After a modicum of meandering... they arrived at their apparent destination.  Nikki unlocked and opened a heavy wooden door—Click!—led her bindee and observer across the threshold and into the chamber beyond—then closed the door behind them.  Thunk!

Naked and helpless in their inescapable bonds, their blue eyes wide with horror, shock, alarm, and/or intense curiosity above their gags, Birdie and Rosie stared at... the thing in the middle of the cell.

Aficionados of the works of John Alexander Scott Coutts (aka John Willie) would characterize the thing in question as a "Willie Stand," a vertical steel rod solidly embedded in the stone floor and supporting an unarguably cruel "saddle."    The saddle's "seat" was a vertical steel plate with a scary and nasty sawtooth edge facing upwards!  In addition, an also vertical steel plate studded with what appeared to be tiny sharp spikes was welded to one end.  A hypothetical damsel straddling the saddle would find the back plate threatening to prick her rump while the sawteeth threatened to do unpleasant things to her hoo-haw—if she fully settled her weight onto the wicked device!

No sane person would allow herself to remain in such a predicament... unless, of course, she was bound in place and had no choice in the matter.  Towards that end, a horizontal spreader-bar with a steel shackle or ankle-cuff at either end was mounted to the base of the vertical rod, several inches off the floor.  Properly adjusted—and in this case both the height of the shackle-bar and the saddle itself were adjustable—our damsel would be unable to lift herself off the saddle and she'd be unable to slide backwards without punishing her butt on the back-plate's spikes!  Our hypothetical saddle-straddling damsel would be a true Damsel-in-Distress!

But there was more!

Supported by a hefty framework of steel stanchions and cross-braces set in the floor, ceiling, and stone wall opposite the chamber door was a very large and open clockwork mechanism, complete with nested gears (many the size of automobile steering-wheels), pinions, pawls, ratchets, dangling counterweights, etc., etc., including a five to six-foot long free-swinging pendulum with a disk-shaped weight at its base!  A light chain of nested steel links ran from a drum integrated into the mechanism, up to a line of pulleys mounted to the ceiling, then dropped to dangle about midway between The Willie Stand and the door.  The purpose of the chain and the mechanism as a whole was unclear.

On the other hand, the purpose of The Willie Stand itself was crystal clear!

The naked, bound, and gagged captives stared at the stand with its pussy and butt-threatening saddle-plates with dread, but while Birdie's response was one of generalized hypothetical empathy, for Rosie it was very much up close and personal!  Birdie was the Designated Observer, but Rosie was the evening's Designated Bindee!  Nikki had dragged (led) her down here, and she very much doubted it was simply to show off her clever homage to John Willie without putting it to use!

While Birdie and Rosie were busy staring at the stand and puzzling over the big mechanism with the pendulum mounted behind it, Nikki untied the end of Birdie's leash from Rosie's wrist-bonds and let it drop to the stone floor without bothering to tie it to anything else.  After all, Birdie was still naked, bound, gagged, rope-collared, and not going anywhere.  The only door in the chamber was closed.

Next, breaking Rosie out of her horrified reverie—"Mrrk?"—Nikki untied all of her bindee's bonds with the exception of her wrist-ropes.  Rosie remained naked, gagged, rope-collared, and with her wrists crossed and bound behind her back, but now the several feet of her former waist and crotch ropes dangled to the floor.  Nikki then took hold of Rosie's left arm and led (dragged) her forward until they were directly in front of the dreaded Willie Stand.

Gulp!

"I know it's scary," Nikki purred, "but I've adjusted it to your height, so if you stand perfectly still, the saw-teeth should juuust brush your nether-lips... and as you can see, while they are jagged, they're not at all sharp.  Uncomfortable and painful if you settle your weight on them?  Of, hell yes... but not actually dangerous."

Rosie blinked her blue eyes, once again staring at the saddle with the appropriate gagged dread.  It was true.  While the "saw teeth" were cut in a regular zigzag, just like a saw blade viewed in profile, they were quite far from being what she could objectively call sharp.  The points and edges of the teeth were somewhat rounded and smooth.

"You don't believe me?" Nikki inquired.  "I know it to be true from personal experience.  I've adjusted it to my height and stood there with my ankles resting in the shackles... for five whole minutes!  I wasn't bound or gagged, of course, and the shackles were swung open on their hinges, but I was nude."  She indicated her catsuited form with a graceful sweep of her free hand.  "As you can see, it didn't saw me in half.  All you have to do is stand there... and try not to move."

Rosie appeared openly skeptical, not about Nikki not having been sawed in half, of course, but about whether or not she wanted to play this particular game.

Nikki heaved a disappointed sigh (or a reasonable facsimile thereof).  "You always were the timid one," she remarked.

Rosie looked to Birdie for support, but, thanks to her bondage, all the evening's Designated Observer could offer was a sympathetic shrug of her bare shoulders.

Rosie glared at her fellow nude, bound, and gagged brunette.  You're no help, she silently fumed, then turned back to the patiently waiting steel stand.  Seconds passed... then she heaved a sigh, focused on (scowled at) the Blonde Binder... and nodded.

"There's my brave Rosie!" Nikki gushed, gave her Designated Bindee a gleeful hug... then led her the remaining distance to the stand.  With Nikki's "kind" assistance, the naked, bound, and gagged brunette went up on tiptoe and slowly, carefully, gingerly stutter-stepped backwards until...

"Stop, darling," Nikki purred.  "You're in position.  Now, hold perfectly still."  She then knelt, placed Rosie's left ankle in the open shackle, and swung it closed.  It locked with an audible click.  Then, she locked Rosie's right ankle in the remaining cuff.  Click!

Rosie's blue eyes were wide above her gag.  Her lady-bits were, indeed, hovering distressing close to the steel teeth, just as Nikki had promised/warned.  Also, even though her ankles were trapped in the spreader-bar-shackles, her heels were still just off the stone floor, so, technically, she was still up on her toes!  Her leg muscles confirmed that fact.  She strongly suspected there was enough play in the ankles-shackles arrangement for her to rest her feet flat on the floor, but only at the price of letting the horrible saddle take at least some small part of her weight!  Maybe!  Probably!  There was only one way to find out, but that would be to stop hovering and ease herself onto the saw teeth!

As for the vertical plate with all the scary little spikes, it was very nearly in contact with Rosie's butt-cheeks!  At the moment she was standing upright and astride the saddle, but if she leaned back... pricking would happen!  She was sure of it!  On the other hand, if she leaned forward, her pussy would come into direct and unequivocal contact with the saw-saddle!  It was... a predicament.

And then, Nikki made it all worse by threading the dangling end of Rosie's wrist-ropes through an iron ring embedded in the floor several feet behind The Stand.  Then, slowly... carefully... pulled out the slack until Rosie was forced to lean back!  She had been resting the palms of her bound hands on the top edge of the vertical plate (the one with all the spikes), trying to support herself with her arms—but no longer!  "Mrrrf!"  Now, her crossed and bound wrists were something like two-feet behind the plate and she was forced to lean back—just a little—until the sharp (or sharp-ish) spikes were just short of touching her derrière!  "Mrrrm!"

And then, revealing that she was not only a wicked and evil disciple of Maestro Willie, but was willing to expand on his vision, Nikki pulled a pair of clover-clamps from a pocket on her catsuit... smiled... and began teasing Rosie's left nipple with her gloved fingertips!

"Mrrrk!"

Nikki then captured Rosie's now erect nipple in the spring-loaded jaws of one of the nipple-clamps—"Mrmpfh!"—followed by her right nipple in the other clamp! 

Carefully... very carefully... Rosie wiggled and squirmed.  The light chain connecting the clamps (and now her nipples as well), swayed, bounced, and flailed against her smooth, taut tummy in response.

Unfortunately for Poor Rosie, the Blonde Binder wasn't finished.  Nikki reached up and took hold of the ring dangling from the light chain traveling across the ceiling and back to the mysterious clockwork mechanism (the one with with the pendulum), and pulled it down, causing the chain to slide through its pulleys like a metallic snake—Rattle-rattle-rattle-rattle!  She then revealed the terminal ring of the chain to be a spring-loaded clip by clicking it around the clover-clamp's connecting chain.

The nipple-clamps, their connecting chain, and the chain from the machine were now lifted and angling upwards at something like forty-five degrees up to the first pulley in the ceiling.  There was slack in the arrangement, but not much.  Rosie was still able to squirm and roll her shoulders, a little, and now the tit-jewelry and the long chain angling upwards swayed and tugged on Rosie's nipples as she tested the limits of her predicament.

Nikki smiled (gloated) and surveyed her friend's insidious plight for several long and no doubt sadistically satisfying seconds... then strolled to the clockwork mechanism and made things worse.  She threw a lever, drew back the formerly vertical pendulum with both gloved hands... as gears turned and clicked up near the ceiling—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—then... released the obviously heavy pendulum and it began to swing—Swoosh!—and as it did so, several more of the mechanism's larger gears also began turning, one gear-tooth at a time, and joining the mechanical/metallic medley.

Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick!  Etc.

The noise was in no way loud.  In fact, while being appropriately ominous and malevolent, it was arguably unintrusive background music for the sinister scenario.  Somewhat repetitious?  To be sure, but far from jarring.  That was how Nikki felt about it, anyway.  Rosie was too busy blinking her big blue eyes and carefully exploring her horrific predicament to play music critic.  As for Birdie, she was watching in wide-eyed horror (and curiosity) and seemed undistracted by the quiet, rhythmic, syncopated clatter.

Nikki returned to her former gloating station in front of The Willie Stand and crossed her arms and gloved hands under her leather-clad boobs.  Several additional seconds passed.

Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick!

Then, a ping sounded from somewhere in the machine, a pawl lifted, one of the mechanism's many hanging weights dropped one link on its suspending chain, and the light chain attached to the clover-clamps (and therefore to Rosie's nipples) shook... just a little.

"In case it isn't yet obvious," Nikki said, her blue eyes locked with Rosie's, "the purpose of the machine is to slooowly draw the, uh, 'titty-chain' onto its rotating drum.  Therefore, as that continues, it will start stretching your titties."

Rosie's eyes had been wide before, but now they were even wider.

"And when I say slowly," Nikki continued, "I mean very slowly... glacially slowly.  But not to worry.  Eventually the machine will reach a preset limit and the mechanism will reset, causing the titty-chain to slacken.  Then, the entire process will repeat... ad infinitum... or at least 'til the master weight drops all the way down and rests on the floor, which will take... a very, very long time."

Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick!

"Nrrrrrf!" Rosie objected, then decided to unleash her secret weapon, her devastating sympathy-inducing pout.  Her blue eyes and arguably quirky lips were usually able to conspire to create an irresistible sulking moue, but at the moment her gag was probably diminishing the effect.  In any case, several additional seconds passed without Nikki-the-Cruel's gloating demeanor wavering.

"Well... we'll leave you to it," the leather-clad Mistress of Grey Manor purred, then retrieved the end of Birdie's leash and strolled towards the chamber door.

Birdie had no choice but to follow; however, she did extend the same courtesy to The Victim of The Willie Stand that Rosie had extended to her last night when she was The Victim of the Tall Narrow Cage.  That is, she looked back over her bare shoulder and gazed at Rosie, her pale blue eyes sympathetic and sad above her gag.

Nikki opened the heavy timber door, the leather-clad Binder Blonde and the naked, bound, and gagged Brunette Observer crossed the threshold, Nikki paused for one last smiling gloat... then closed and locked the door behind her.  Thud.  Click.

Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick!

Naked, involuntarily straddling The Willie Stand, and with the Insidious Nipple and Breast Stretching Mechanism continuing to do its thing, Rosie remained behind.  And oh-by-the-way, she was now convinced that Nikki had been telling the truth.  As the pendulum swung and the gears turned, the "titty-chain" was shortening and it was obvious that eventually her nipples and breasts would be stretched!  Would the process be slow?  Even glacially slow, as Nikki had warned?  Yes, but the chain was shortening.

Rosie looked above the chamber door.  There was no visible camera, but there were a few strategically placed gaps between the the rough-cut stone blocks any one of which could conceal a hidden lens.  It was a safe bet Nikki and Birdie would soon be watching the Let's Torture Rosie Show from her gigantic bed up in the Mistress Bedroom... no doubt with a naked, bound, and gagged Birdie snuggled close to Nikki's side—and there wasn't anything Rosie could do about it.  There wasn't anything she could do about anything!

Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick—Swoosh!—Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick!

Faith stared up at the dark ceiling of her dark bedroom, the legendary Pumpkin Palace.  She was still lying on her back on her four-poster bed—naked—with her arms raised, folded back, and her wrists and upper arms tied together behind her head—her legs ladder-tied together from her waist to her big toes—the nexus of her wrist bonds tautly tethered to the center of the headboard—her big toes tautly tethered to the center of the bed's foot-rail—and with two pair of her own thong-panties (clean, thank goodness) stuffed in her mouth with a long, wide strip of Microfoam tape plastered to her lower face to make sure they stayed there.

And once Faith was helpless, her fellow gamesters had ruthlessly tickle-tortured her by unnecessarily, and without first obtaining permission, ruthlessly shaving her egregiously exposed armpits!  It had been horrible!  She could still feel the aftermath of the associated titillating tingling!  It had been inexplicably... interesting... perhaps an intriguing gaming tactic to be filed away for future use.  Go figure.

After perpetrating their depilating atrocity and indulging in brief catnaps... with Faith's torturers snuggled close on either side of their innocent victim... Eppi and Enid had briefly roused themselves to retie Faith's upper and lower tether-ropes, allowing the naked captive several additional inches of slack.  Faith's ability to squirm and struggle was significantly improved.  That said, she was still inescapably bound and gagged and totally helpless.  Also, she was back to being the filling in an Eppi-Faith-Enid sandwich, with significant skin-on-skin contact!

The game had escalated faster than Faith intended, and now she had a decision to make.  Should she escalate things even further?  After careful consideration... naked and helpless on her own bed with her supposed friends snuggling close on either side and (apparently) fast asleep... Faith made her decision.

HELL YES I'm gonna escalate things!

Meanwhile, downstairs in The Willie Stand Chamber...

---

Rosie was not happy.

Something like an hour had passed since she'd been abandoned to the tender mercies of The Willie Stand and the Insidious Pendulum Regulated Clockwork Nipple Stretching Mechanism.  The long, heavy pendulum with its swooshing disk-shaped terminal weight had continued to swing, the gears to turn, the counterweights to drop, and now and then, one link at a time, the long, thin, shiny steel chain attached to the clover-clamps pinching her poor nipples had tightened... and tightened... and tightened!  It had already completed one complete nipple-and-boob-stretching cycle... then had reset itself... and now Rosie estimated it was something like halfway through nipple-and-boob-stretching cycle number two!

Not happy.  Rosie was definitely not happy.

That said, she had to admit that even at maximum stretch the tug on her nipples (and eventually her boobs themselves) hadn't been that bad.  In fact, it had been more a dull ache than actually painful.  Nothing sharp, anyway.  Most of the suffering had come from her predicament, being unable to lean forward to ease the tug on her tits without punishing her lady-bits on the saw-tooth saddle.  At least for now in was something she could endure... but what if it continued until morning?

No, all things considered, Rosie was increasingly unhappy with her situation/predicament.

Suddenly—C'click!—the sound of the door being unlocked sounded (just loud enough to be heard above the rhythmic clinking and clattering of The Mechanism), the door opened, and Nikki, still resplendent in her black leather catsuit, strode into the chamber, a broad (wicked) smile on her angelic face.  As before, the black leather riding crop was clutched in her right glove.

"Still here, I see," The Mistress of Grey Mansion quipped.

Rosie glowered at her hostess/torturer in stony silence.  (The gag filling her mouth and tightly strapped across her lips had a lot to do with her lack of response.)

Still smiling (gloating) Nikki gracefully waved the crop around, the gesture encompassing Rosie, The Stand, the turning Mechanism and its swinging pendulum, and the chamber in general.  "Do you like my enhancement of Maestro Willie's original vision?"

More stony silence.

"Such a Grumpy Gus," Nikki teased.  "Well... enough fun.  Let's get you off this thing."

Rosie blinked in surprise.  She'd been hoping that Nikki, plagued by pity and remorse, had returned to the scene of her crime to do more than gloat, but the most she'd been expecting was for her to turn off her insidious machine and release Rosie's poor, stretched, abused nipples.  Actually getting off The Stand was more than she'd thought possible... but apparently it was happening!

First came the turning off of the machine... followed by—Ouch!  Ouch!—the release of the clover-clamps pinching Rosie's nipples... followed by the release of the rope stretching from Rosie's bound wrists to the ring set in the floor... followed by the release of her ankles from the shackles attached to the spreader-bar mounted near the base of The Stand.  And then, finally, followed by Nikki easing her off The Stand itself.

Rosie's bare feet were now flat on the stone floor, which was a good thing.  Her aching leg muscles were especially grateful.  The rest of her was as bare as her feet, of course, except where her wrists remained crossed and bound together behind her back and the leather panel-gag with its silicon-rubber gobstopper remained buckled in place.  She stared sullenly (one step up from her former glower) as Nikki loosely looped the long free ends dangling from her wrist-bonds around her waist, cinched them between her wrists and upper butt, and tied a tight knot.  She continued making her blue-eyed disapproval abundantly clear as Binder Blonde used a second coil of conditioned hemp to give her another loose collar and leash.

"Off we go!" Nikki said cheerily as she led her bindee to the door, unlocked it—Click!—led her into the corridor, and closed and locked the door behind them.  Click!  Then, the leash snapped taut, and off they did, indeed, go.

By this time Rosie was beginning to develop a basic mental map of Grey Mansion's subterranean maze, so, as turn followed turn... eventually she realized the spiral staircase leading to the upper levels should be just ahead... and it was.  They climbed the cramped stairs... entered the narrow Secret Passageways honeycombing the upper mansion... and finally passed through the Magic Mirror and emerged in the walk-in closet of the Master (Mistress) Bedroom.

Nikki paused to tie the end of Rosie's leash to a convenient lashing point among the hanging clothes, then proceeded to unlace, unbuckle, unzip, and peel her way out of her knee-boots, gloves, and leather catsuit.  She hadn't been wearing anything underneath, not even panties or a thong, and so (not counting Rosie's bonds and gag), the binder was now as nude as her bindee.

Smiling sweetly (meaning evilly) Nikki untied the end of Rosie's leash, took a firm grip, and led her from the closet and into the main bedroom.

There—"Mrrrmpfh!"—Birdie was waiting.

Rosie's blue eyes popped wide in surprise, alarm... and fascinated appraisal.

Her fellow brunette—as nude as both Rosie herself and The Evil Nikki—was sitting in a heavy, sturdily built, and decor-appropriate Gothic-style wooden armchair, and she wouldn't be getting out of said chair anytime soon without significant assistance.  Why?  An abundance of hemp rope lashed her in place with her hands and forearms arms on the armrests, her back against the chair's back, her legs splayed wide, her feet off the carpet, and her ankles against the elaborately turned dowels bracing the chair's legs!

It was now abundantly clear exactly what Nikki had been up to while Rosie was down below straddling The Willie Stand with her poor titties being tortured by The Insidious Clockwork Mechanism.

Horizontal strands passed around Birdie and the chair-back, above and below her breasts, yoked her shoulders, and encircled the breasts themselves, imparting a visible squeeze.  Her upper-arms were lashed to the sides of the chair-back, and her wrists were lashed to the armrests.  Rope encircled her waist and the chair-back, as well as diving through her pussy and being tied somewhere behind the chair.  Her upper and lower thighs were lashed to the sides of the chair's seat and the lower armrests, and her ankles were lashed to the chair's leg-braces on either side.

Nikki had pulled out all the stops.  Not only had she used a lot of conditioned hemp, but everything was neat, well-cinched, and all of the visible knots were positioned well beyond the reach of Birdie's groping and fluttering fingers... which at the moment were neither groping nor fluttering, but that really didn't matter.  Birdie would not be untying anything any time soon, not even with her toes.

In short, Birdie was tied to the armchair.

Also—"Mrrrrrmf!"—her leather panel-gag (with silicon-rubber gobstopper) was still in place, ready to stife any and all protests, complaints, and/or pleas for mercy.

Nikki hugged Rosie's shoulders, pulling her close, and quietly whispered in her ear, but not so quietly that Birdie couldn't hear as well.  "Isn't she beautiful like that?  It's been so long since the last time I've been able to play with my rope collection, and most of the playground furnishings down below have never been fully used as intended, not even once!"  She planted a kiss on Rosie's panel-gagged lips.  "We're going to have so much fun in the days and weeks ahead."

Rosie and Birdie locked eyes.  Clearly, their hostess was having way too much fun being a despicable villainess, but obviously any discussion of the topic and what the brunettes were going to do about it would have to wait for another occasion.

Oh-by-the-way, Birdie and her chair were positioned only a few feet from the foot of Nikki's gigantic fourposter bed.  The prisoner-of-the-chair had a perfect view of its neatly made surface, just as anyone reclined on said surface would have a perfect view of Birdie... at least from the waist up.

Without further gloating and/or one-sided exposition with respect to Birdie's predicament, her rope collection, or the supposedly largely unused furnishing down below, Nikki led Rosie to the bed, "helped" her recline by means of a businesslike (but not too businesslike) shove—"Mrrrf!—then untied her collar/leash and used the rope to bind the bindee's ankles together.  Also, being the evil naked villainess eager to show off her rigging skills that she was, Nikki included Rosie's feet and big-toes in the ankle-tie!

The Mistress of Grey Mansion then strolled to the chest of drawers across the bedroom, opened the bottom drawer, then returned to the bed with a generous armload of neatly coiled hemp rope, the same conditioned hemp rope binding Birdie to her chair and already binding Rosie's ankles, feet, big toes, and her crossed wrists and encircling her waist.

"I know everybody's anxious for me to turn off the lights so we can all get some much needed slumber," Nikki apologized as she released the hitch securing the first coil and prepared it for use, "but unfortunately this is going to take a while."  She then set about the task of revising and greatly extending Rosie's bondage.

When the proverbial dust finally settled... Rosie's upper arms were pinned to her sides and her arms folded behind her back and secured in a a tight, conventional box-tie.  It was anchored above by the usual strands yoking her shoulders and below by strands encircling her waist and diving between her legs, cleaving her pussy and butt-cheeks in a tight (but not too tight) crotch-rope.  Rosie had just "enjoyed" more than an hour straddling The Willie Stand, so Nikki went easy on her... in a manner of speaking.  Additional rope bands encircled and bound her legs together at her upper thighs, above and below her knees, and her mid lower legs.  Finally, an elaborate diamond-hitch web of taut strands squeezed Rosie's entire body from her shoulders to her ankles!

Nikki had taken her time during the process, taking regular hitches to isolate the tension of the various bondage elements.  She was also careful to take full precautions and not grant her subject sufficient freedom to interfere with the waist-tie to box-tie transition in any meaningful manner.

Rosie had cooperated (sullenly) by lying like a lump on the bed, limp and pliant.  She figured she might as well.  Struggling would only have delayed the inevitable.

From her "comfy" chair, Birdie—the evening's Designated Observer—had watched the binding of her fellow blue-eyed brunette with keen interest.  She had to admit their hostess was still the excellent rigger she'd been when they'd all graduated from Cambridge all those years ago, and if anything, her rope skills had improved.  Birdie took careful mental notes.

Task complete, Nikki stood back, smiled down at her Designated Bindee, and crossed her arms under her unarguably magnificent rack.

Rosie took her cue, heaved a gagged sigh, then commenced her traditional Courtesy Struggle, wiggling, squirming, rolling, and writhing.  It was pointless, but expected.

Still smiling, of course, Nikki watched the show and gloated like a fiend.

Birdie also watched, but she didn't gloat.  (She did, however, put effort into ignoring the thrill shivering through her rope-cleaved hoo-haw as her fellow brunette wiggled and squirmed.)

Finally, Rosie decided enough was enough, locked eyes with her captor, and unleashed a scathing gagged scowl.

Nikki indulged in a few more seconds of quality gloating time—How could she not?—then padded to Birdie's chair and planted a kiss on the chair-bound brunette's forehead.  "Goodnight," she purred, then padded back to the bed.

Back in the chair, Birdie didn't bother attempting to wish her out-of-control-bondage-freak of a friend a similar sentiment, but she did manage a gagged scowl nearly as withering as Rosie's.

Meanwhile, Nikki had pulled back the covers, climbed onto the bed next to Rosie (who was still glowering like crazy), and pulled the covers up to both of their waists.  The Mistress of Grey Manor then leaned to the nightstand... pumped a generous dollop of some sort of creamy lotion from a plastic bottle and onto her hands—Pump-pump-pump—rubbed them together, paused to smile... then began massaging Rosie's rope-framed breasts... paying close, delicate, gentle attention to Rosie's now erect nipples.

"Nrrrmpfh!" Rosie complained, pouting, scowling, and squirming in her bonds in earnest.  (Strangely, Rosie's resistance did little if anything to hamper Nikki's "pampering" efforts.)

"Your sweater puppies don't seem to be any the worse for wear," Nikki purred, continuing her massage.  "I don't even see residual redness... just the usual dusky pinkness."

Rosie continued squirming.

"Hold still, you silly goose," Nikki chuckled.  "I have to make sure they're okay, don't I?"

"Mrrrrrm!" Rosie complained... or possibly agreed... but she did not hold still; however, she did transition from struggling... to shivering... but that also did nothing to help her escape or make Nikki stop massaging her boobs and playing with her nipples.

From her chair Birdie watched the ongoing breast rubdown and nipple teasing with rapt attention.  Nikki was digging herself a deeeeep hole, and together with Rosie they'd have to do something about it... later... much later... when the brunettes weren't quite so naked, bound, and gagged.

Finally, apparently satisfied that Rosie's tits had received sufficient after-action restorative maintenance, Nikki worked the remaining lotion into her own boobs and arms... then leaned over and used the small touchscreen remote on the nightstand to turn out the bedroom lights.

Birdie's eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, which was alleviated only by the bedroom's dimly glowing green nightlights... but there wasn't much for her to see.  Rosie and The Evil Nikki were still on the bed, of course.  Rosie was squirming... a little... and Nikki was snuggling against her bed-mate's left side with one arm thrown across her bindee's rope-bound tummy.

Birdie sighed and tested her bonds... weakly... for what felt like the millionth time since Nikki had abandoned her to her chair-bound fate for her trek down to the dungeons to retrieve Rosie.  It looked like it was going to be a looooong night... but in the morning she fully intended to call a meeting of the Vengeful Brunettes Club so they could start making plans to do wicked things to Nikki for a change.