by Van © 2025
		Chapter 7

Smiling like a wicked villainess whose dreams of retribution were coming to fruition, Faith padded back to her bedroom, resplendently clad in her blue happi-coat with its white, bold, wave pattern (assuming, of course, something as brief and simple as a happi-coat can be worn "resplendently").

Having no real choice in the matter, Eppi was waiting, still naked, box-tied, tape-gagged (with balled-anklets-stuffing), and lashed to the lower left bedpost of Faith's magnificent bed.  The brunette glared at the self-declared binder-of-the-evening.  She also looked over Faith's shoulder, anticipating the return of Enid, who should also be naked, box-tied, and tape-gagged (with ball-tied-anklets-stuffing), but (of course) not lashed to a bedpost.  To Eppi's disappointment, Faith was returning alone, without Enid.  Also missing was Faith's former bandolier of rope-bundles.  Eppi leaped to the logical conclusion that Faith had used all of the conditioned hemp rope coils to further restrain Enid at an undisclosed location!  That is, the Evil Blonde had used her rope collection to bind Poor Enid in some ridiculously elaborate manner and to something, somewhere in the mansion... meaning somewhere else in the mansion!

Faith carefully closed the bedroom door behind her, padded to Eppi and her bedpost (all the while grinning evilly in a most irritating albeit undeniably alluring manner), then reached out and began toying with Eppi's nipples—and there was nothing Eppi could do to stop her!

"Mrrrpfh!" the helpless brunette complained.  Eppi's nipples had popped erect in Righteous Outrage, and she continued staring daggers at her grinning captor.

"Now that you're properly rested," Faith purred, continuing to fondle, fool, and fiddle with Eppi's nips, "we can move on to the main event of the evening."

Eppi blinked her big brown eyes.  Huh?

"Have you ever participated in a... treasure hunt?" Faith inquired.

Eppi continued blinking.  Say what?

"No matter," Faith chuckled.  "Anyway, that's what's happening, a treasure hunt.  You're the seeker and, of course, Enid is the treasure.  I've hidden her someplace in the mansion, so all you have to do is... find her.  Easy-peasy.  She's still gagged and tied up, of course.  In fact, she's very tied up, and as you search don't bother listening for whatever noise she might be trying to make.  You almost certainly won't hear anything 'til you're both in the same room."  The Wicked Blonde stopped playing with Eppi's nipples (which were still erect and tingling with Righteous Outrage, and started untying the ropes binding her to the bedpost.  "That said, I didn't bother enhancing her gag as it's already more than adequately effective."  She paused to smooth Eppi's tape-gag with her strong, tan fingers. "...like yours."  She then returned to releasing Eppi from the bedpost.

"Mrrrpfh," Eppi complained, on general principles.  She also squirmed and tugged on her remaining bonds, but not enough to interfere with Faith's untying efforts.

"Anyway," Faith continued, "Enid isn't foolish enough raise a ruckus and alert our mothers to her plight... which would be astronomically unlikely in any case."  Having untied the last of Eppi's post-tie bonds, she tossed the jumble of rope onto her bed, took two steps back, crossed her arms under her breasts, and smiled (gloated).

Eppi was still naked, box-tied, and tape-gagged (with balled-anklets-stuffing), but at least now she was ambulatory... and if she was going to be the seeker in a treasure hunt for a naked, bound, and gagged Enid—and apparently she was—she was going to need to be ambulatory.

"If you find her..."  Faith stopped and briefly covered her sheepishly and coquettishly smiling lips with one hand.  "Forgive me.  When you find her, I've made sure you'll be able to untie her, at least until you both share the same degree of helplessness, that is—naked, box-tied, gagged, but not tied to anything.  While I suppose it's conceivable you might be able to untie each other completely, if I were you I wouldn't even bother trying."  Her smile became truly sinister.  "I purposely tied your wrists raised and crossed behind your backs to restrict your untying efforts to one-handed and very awkward fumbling.  Also, I used an especially complicated knot that's impossible to untie with one hand, especially without being able to see what you're doing.  I suggest you two just tiptoe back here so I can bind your ankles and we can snuggle on the bed and get some sleep."

Faith draped her right arm over Eppi's rope-yoked but otherwise bare shoulders, then led her towards the bedroom door.  "And since this is a treasure hunt," she purred, "that means there have to be clues.  So... clue number one: Enid is not in the same wing as our mothers' bedrooms, not on the same floor, anyway, so you can look elsewhere.  Clue number two: she is somewhere in the mansion and not in one of the outbuildings, including the garage, garden shed, gazebo, etc., etc.  Clue number three: there is no clue number three, and the same goes for clues four through positive infinity."

They'd arrived at the door and Eppi watched (glowered) as Faith opened it... planted a sloppy kiss on her tape-gagged lips, then gave her a shove across the threshold and into the dark hallway beyond.

"Mrrrk!" Eppi griped.

"I'll probably be asleep when you guys get back," Faith purred, "and the door will be locked, so you'll have to wake me up.  Knock as loud as you want.  Our mothers won't hear."

And with that, the door closed in Eppi's gagged face—Thud!—and she heard the lock turn.  Click!

Eppi didn't bother throwing a retaliatory tizzy-fit.  It would be a waste of energy, and she suspected she was going to need all of her energy.  She turned, waited several seconds for her eyes to fully adapt to the dim light that was be all that was available to light her way... then padded to the first closed door in the corridor.  She wouldn't put it past Faith to stash Enid close by, maybe in Enid's own guest bedroom.. or even in Eppi's own guest bedroom.  She was going to have to be thorough.

It's an outrage! Eppi silently fumed.  Blond Bitch!

It's an outrage! Enid thought as she squirmed in her bonds.  She figured if she could focus on the unwarranted, unfair, and grossly uncalled for humiliation that was her current predicament it would help keep her mind off the spooky, creepy, and/or spine-chilling ambiance of her situation.  The problem was... it wasn't working.

Enid had never been a big fan of the Horror genre—be it in movies, TV, or literature in general.  On the other hand, she'd never been particularly averse to the vicarious chills and thrills lurking in the pages of the classic works of Edgar Allen Poe, Daphne du Maurier, or H.P. Lovecraft.  (Slasher movies were a different matter.  Slasher movies were predictable and cliché ridden to the point of being boring... most of them, that is.)  Anyway, being naked, bound, gagged, lashed to a rigidly affixed vertical pole, and sequestered in an unfinished circular room directly beneath the complex rafters of one of Grey Mansion's many Gothic spires in the middle of the night had elevated such spooky/horrific considerations to the level of the personal.

The helpless prisoner's eyes were totally dark-adapted and the cloud-filtered moonlight shining through the Spire Chamber's windows was providing "adequate" illumination for her to inventory and catalog the surrounding jumble of deep shadows in all directions, including overhead.  Spooky?  Yes, but at least nothing sinister was creeping around and trying to "get" her.

Then, suddenly—Enid's eyes popped wide—she froze in the tight ropes binding her to the pole—and a shuddering thrill of absolute dread and shrill alarm rippled up and down her spine!

Something... somebody... was levitating up the spiral staircase... and he, she, they, or it was as dark as the surrounding gloom!  Very little moonlight glinted off its humanoid shape as it silently spiraled up the stairs, and at first—to Enid's horrified eyes—the intruder did indeed appear to be levitating... but then she realized that actually it was climbing the steps in a conventional manner... a graceful, stately, bipedal manner... and now it... she... was gliding across the floor and directly towards Enid and her pole!  Why "she?"  The dark specter had boobs, as well as arms, legs, hips, etc.

The ghostly form had resolved into a female figure clad entirely in black from head to toe—soft boots, tights, long-sleeve skintight top, gloves, hood, and goggles—all in black!

"My goodness," the specter spoke in an eerie, quiet, electronically altered voice.  "Oh Enid, you certainly are helpless, aren't you."  It was an observation, not a rhetorical question.

"She knows my name!" Enid realized as she continued processing the eldritch stranger's costume, noting knee and elbow pads, a utility belt with multiple pouches with unknown contents.  The hood covered the sinister stranger's entire head and masked her entire face, and the goggles that simply had to be state-of-the-art night-vision devices.  Otherwise, its dark lenses would have rendered the stranger virtually if not actually blind.  Her movements were graceful and assured.  Enid watched nervously as the cat-suited visitor pulled a black cloth from one of the pouches of her belt.

Enid's eyes popped even wider!  The cloth was a hood, and the mysterious stranger was pulling it over her head—"Mrrrpfh!"—meaning Enid's head!  "Nrrrrpfh!"  The darkness was now complete!  "Mrrrf!"  But at least she could still breathe.  Also, fingers (the stranger's, obviously) were releasing the bows securing the ropes haphazardly binding her to the pole!  The tight hemp coils melted away... began sliding down her naked body,,, and pooled at her bare feet.

Eventually Enid was "free" from the pole.  She was still naked, box-tied, and tape-gagged (with balled-ankles-stuffing), of course, but not tied to the pole.  There was a brief pause... then Enid felt a rope tighten over the hood and around her neck.  She surmised she was getting another rope collar and leash.  Next, she was led a few barefoot steps away from the pole.

"Stay," the mysterious figure ordered in her distorted, vocorder-modified voice.  "We can't leave this untidy jumbled mess of tangled rope lying around, now can we?"

Enid squirmed in her bonds, but remained in place, as ordered.  She suspected her leash was tethered to something, but had no desire to test that hypothesis.  Meanwhile, she heard the slithering and slapping of the loose rope of her former pole-bonds being coiled and secured... at last that was what she deduced she was hearing.

Finally—"Mrrrk?"—the Mysterious Woman in Black draped an arm over Enid's shoulders and led her away.

"Don't worry," Enid's handler reassured her, "I'll help you down the stairs."

Obviously, Enid was being taken someplace... and she was no longer Faith's prisoner!  She was the prisoner of an strange woman in a black catsuit!  Needless to say, Enid's heart was tripping like the proverbial hammer and she was panting under the blinding hood through flaring nostrils.

After having ruthlessly moisturized Nikki's entire body—(ninety-something-percent of it, anyway, as those portions of her "victim's" skin covered by her suspension-cuffs, ankle-ropes, and gag-strap were unavailable and therefore had been excluded)—Rosie settled into a comfy easy-chair and watched (with an evil smirk) as Nikki tugged on the leather binding her to "Old Man Lacing Bar" and keeping her up on her toes, stared daggers at her "torturer," and... glistened.

Minutes passed... minutes replete with glowering, gloating, and glistening.

Nikki's well-moisturized, massaged, and erect nipples jutted in a Defiant Rage.  Her blue eyes flashed with Righteous Anger.

Rosie's trademark lopsided grin was at full intensity, and she had never looked more mischievous and elfin (in Nikki's opinion, anyway).

Suddenly, Birdie emerged from Nikki's walk-in closet, smiling broadly and her remarkable blue eyes sparkling in a devilish manner.  Both hands were behind her back.  She was hiding something.

"I have good news," Birdie announced, "and I have good news.  There are corsets in Blondie's closet, and some of them do look pretty interesting... but look at what else I found!"  She pulled her right hand from behind her back, revealing the brown leather riding crop Nikki had brandished in such a theatrical and/or threatening manner the previous two evenings.  "And there's more!" Birdie added, pulled her left hand from behind her back, and revealed a brown leather flogger with something like twenty long, dangling, ribbon-like tails!

Nikki's blue eyes involuntarily popped wide, momentarily, then she returned to her irate glowering.  (Her pulse-rate was now somewhat elevated, but she managed to ignore it.)

"Oh, good indeed!" Rosie gushed, still sprawled in her comfy chair.  "I was looking forward to lacing her into a nice tight leather bodice with push-up shelves for her boobies, but that would mean we'd lose access to her back, ribs, and tummy."

Birdie tossed the crop onto the bed and transferred the flogger to her right hand.  "We can always squeeze her into something punishing and restrictive later," she purred, gave the flogger a tentative swing—Swoosh!—then lowered her arm.  The flogger's tails rattled and swayed as they came to rest.

"Yes, I suppose we can play 'Kinky Barbie' with Mistress Grey later," Rosie conceded, "after adding a little pink to selected portions of her anatomy."

"But no stripes," Birdie admonished, still smiling.

"Oh, certainly not," Rosie agreed.  "It would be difficult to explain stripes to our darling daughters during tomorrow's sunbathing and swimming activities."

"Not to mention Cook," Birdie purred.  "Cook would probably almost certainly disapprove."  Then, casually...  Oh.  So.  Casually.  ...Birdie padded behind Nikki's back, the tails of the flogger swinging and swaying at her side.

Nikki continued glowering, turning her head as her blue eyes tracked Birdie with close precision... until her brown-haired alleged friend passed from easy view... then Nikki returned her blue-eyed gaze to the front and focused on the theoretical horizon.  Her heart was still hammering, somewhat, but we wasn't really afraid that she was about to be flogged.  Birdie wouldn't dare... would she?

Swooosh—WHACK!

"Mrrrk!"

Apparently, she would.

Nikki's butt had exploded in stinging pain!  It was agonizing!  It was unbearable!  (Okay, it was unpleasant.)

Swooosh—WHACK!   Swooosh—WHACK!   Swooosh—WHACK!  Swooosh—WHACK!  Swooosh—WHACK!  Etc.

"Mrrrrrmpfh!"

Blows landed on both of Nikki's butt-cheeks... then her back... her butt again... then her back again!  And the flagellation was showing no sign of stopping!

"Mrrrrrk!"

"This is easier than I thought it would be," Birdie stated.  Swooosh—WHACK!  "Meaning flogging somebody without doing serious damage."  Swooosh—WHACK!

"I believe that flogger you're using is significantly less dangerous that the models used by the Royal Navy in the days of sail," Rosie said with a wicked smile.  "They had much longer tails with periodic knots tied in the leather, and I also believe some of them even had little bits of jagged metal incorporated."

Birdie shuddered in sympathy for the disciplinary punishments visited upon undisciplined British tars of the past.  Swooosh—WHACK!  Swooosh—WHACK!  All the while she continued flogging Nikki's back and backside.

Nikki was no longer lodging muffled protests and exclamations, but she was flinching with every blow.

Swooosh—WHACK!  Swooosh—WHACK!  Swooosh—WHACK!

Finally, Birdie let her arm drop, stepped forward, and began running the limp tails of the flogger up and down Nikki's back and buttocks.

"Oh, pretty," the grinning brunette with the flogger purred.  "Her skin pinkifies quite nicely."

"'Pinkify' isn't a word," the smirking brunette in the chair chuckled as she climbed from said chair, padded forward on her bare feet, and began lightly rubbing her palm over Nikki's offended posterior.

"Of course 'pinkify' is a word," Birdie responded.  "It's perfectly legal.  'Pink' plus 'intensify.'  Pinkify.  Look it up."

"There's no point," Rosie purred as she continued gliding her hand over Nikki's flushed posterior.  "In any case, that is a magnificent roseate blush, and I don't see any stripes.  Congratulations on a job well done."

"Thank you," Birdie beamed proudly.  "It's my first time!"

"Do you want me to spell you?" Rosie offered.

"Oh no!" Birdie grinned.  "I still have to do her thighs, front and back... as well as her tummy and breasts."

"Well, leave something for me," Rosie admonished as she returned to her chair.  "I want to take the crop for a spin."

"You can have seconds," Birdie purred, then delivered a blow to the backs of their hostess's thighs.   Swooosh—WHACK!

Nikki flinched, but otherwise continued suffering in stoic silence... Beautiful and Brave Innocent Martyr that she was.

This is ridiculous! Eppi fumed as she reentered the dark hallway, stooped, and awkwardly eased the door of yet another sitting room closed behind her.

She was concentrating on maintaining an accurate mental image of the mansion's floor plan, rather than trying to keep a correct numerical count of the rooms and closets she'd searched thus far... and she wasn't even done with the floor shared by the family and guest bedrooms.  In addition, she'd already encountered several nondescript portals that led to what she quickly realized was an entire network of narrow servants' corridors running behind, between, and around the main rooms, and who knew where else!

This greatly complicated the task of locating and attempting to rescue Enid.  For all Eppi knew there were closets and storerooms incorporated in the secret maze for the exclusive use of the maids, any of which would be a perfect place to stash a naked, bound, and gagged Enid Reid.  Stealthily visiting every single space on the entire floor plan of Grey Mansion was already a classic Herculean task, but now there was a three-dimensional maze of secret corridors she had to factor in!

And was it awkward to open doors while box-tied with her wrists crossed and lashed just below her shoulder blades?  Hell yes it was awkward!  Also tiring.  Eppi had to stoop, do a half-turn, and grope for the doorknob with one hand... each and every time!  It was exhausting... and infuriating.  It was also making it more difficult to concentrate on the task at hand.  She decided to explore the main or public rooms first (including their closets), then check out the secret passageways, then move on to the next floor.  She was still undecided as to whether she should next continue up to the attic (or attics, plural), or should continue downwards to the ground floor and the basement (or basements) below.

Anyway, that was one more sitting room, parlor, or reading room without a naked, elaborately bound, and gagged Enid Reid, and who knew how many more to go?  Eppi heaved a tape-gagged sigh, then padded down the dark corridor to the next sitting room, parlor, reading room, or whatever.

Suddenly—"MRRRF!"—Eppi was grabbed from behind and a gloved hand clamped over her already tape-gagged mouth (with anklets stuffing)!  She squirmed, twisted, and tried to kick, but her captor was strong and apparently quite skilled in the art of controlling squirming, naked, bound, and gagged damsels!

"I thought I'd never find you, Eppi," the stranger stated.  Her quiet voice (Eppi thought the voice was probably female) was electronically altered while still being easily understandable, especially since the speaker of the vocorder device was close to Eppi's ears.  Also, the device was unable to disguise the amusement in her unknown captor's voice.

The hands and arms holding Eppi close loosened their hold... and she managed to slither free.  Eppi turned, and even in the near darkness could see that her attacker was clad from head to toe in what amounted to a very credible cat-burglar costume, all in black, with night-vision goggles!  Was that the explanation?  Had Eppi stumbled onto a cat-burglary in progress?  If so, she was in an exceedingly poor condition to deal with the intruder or raise the alarm!  Eppi glanced over her shoulder at the corridor behind her.

"Don't even think about it, young lady," the stranger warned.  By the way, the Catwoman-wannabe was definitely a woman.  The skintight costume covered a curvaceous and overtly feminine figure.

Eppi watched as the sinister stranger reached into her utility belt and pulled out a black cloth—"Mrrrk!"—which was revealed to be a spandex hood when she pulled it over Eppi's head!  "Nrrrmk!"  It was light-tight, but (thankfully) Eppi found she could still breathe.  Then... something (a rope, almost certainly) tightened around her neck and was pulled taut.  It was a leash, a rope leash!  "Mrrrf!"

"You're coming with me, Eppi," the weird voice announced.  "I've already rescued Enid, and now I've rescued you as well."

She knows who we are? Eppi wondered, and that we needed rescuing?  Then, she flinched when her unknown "rescuer" draped an arm over her shoulder and led her away.

Having little choice in the matter, Eppi decided to cooperate... not that her cooperation really mattered.  She could always waste her flagging energy on pointless resistance later, when the time was right.

Faith had made an executive decision to take a catnap.  Her plan all along had been to stash Enid up in the attic—well beyond the reasonable search radius Eppi could hope to achieve in two hours—wait two hours... then find Eppi and take her with her to rescue Enid... then lead her two brunette prisoners back down to The Pumpkin Palace for a little snuggling 'til dawn.  She hadn't shared the intended timing of her plan with either of her fellow players, of course.  She wanted them to think they would either be passively languishing or actively searching room-to-room all night.

The Blond Binder realized that finding Eppi might be a flaw in her tactical plan, but was confident she'd be able to locate the Seeker of her Bondage Treasure Hunt without too much difficulty.  She knew the mansion it total detail, whereas Eppi did not, and she (meaning Faith) wasn't bound and gagged.  That would make searching much quicker and easier.

Anyway, that gave Faith two hours to kill 'til it was time to start looking for Eppi.  She was still a teeny-tiny bit tired from the horrific and totally unfair ordeal she'd suffered last night at the hands of Enid and Eppi, didn't feel like reading and there was nothing she wanted to watch on TV, so she set a two hour timer on her iPhone, turned out the lights, snuggled with her pillow, and closed her eyes.

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

"Huh?"  Faith opened her eyes, sat up in bed... and realized she was coming awake somewhere in the process of her bedroom door being unlocked and opened, the overhead lights being switched on, and someone striding across the bedroom towards the bed... and her!

"You're in big trouble, young lady!" a familiar voice announced.  It belonged to the striding intruder in question, was Cook's voice, and the intruder was Cook!

Also, Cook was clad all in black, with the exception of her head.  Her trademark pixie/wedge-cut ginger hair and her uncharacteristically sternly frowning (but undeniably beautiful, with freckles) face were totally exposed, and her green eyes flashed with disapproval and/or disappointment!

"Wha?" Faith demanded.  By this time she was fully awake (after a fashion) and blinking at her mother's senior servant.

"Don't you 'Wha' me, you naughty girl!" Cook scolded as she jerked the bed-covers aside, exposing the naked body of the naughty girl in question (including her glorious allover tan).  Faith had removed her happi-coat prior to commencing her catnap, of course, and was reaching for it when Cook grabbed her right arm, pulled her from the bed, and dragged her towards the chest of drawers.

"Sadie!" Faith complained.  On rare occasions the daughter of the household was known to be inappropriately familiar and use Cook's given name.  "Let go!  What are you—Hey!  No!"

Cook (Sadie) had pulled open the bottom drawer, extracted a coil of conditioned hemp rope, released its retaining hitch with deft ease, and was now using it to tie Faith's wrists together behind her back!

"Why are you tying me up?" Faith demanded, "and why are you dressed like a ninja?"  Cook didn't answer.  Instead, she pulled a black object out of one of the many pouches/pockets on her utility belt and crammed it into Faith's mouth—"Mrrrpfh!"—rocking it back and forth and making sure it trapped her tongue in a sculpted cavity and her teeth in sculpted bite-protectors.  Obviously, the silicon-rubber object had been carefully designed as a dedicated mouth-plug/gobstopper!  It filled Faith's oral cavity more-or-less to capacity—"Mrrrf"—and was an effective vocal-dampening countermeasure against helpless damsels crying for help!

"If you even try and spit that out," Cook cautioned, "I'll give you a spanking you won't soon forget."

Faith regretted not having resisted Cook's binding and mouth-plugging actions with greater vigor, but realized it probably wouldn't have done much more than make her captor mad, and Cook seemed mad enough, meaning angry and suddenly and inexplicably insane!

Next, Cook reached back into the drawer and pulled out Faith's roll of Microfoam™ tape and bandage scissors, snipped off a six or seven inch strip, and pressed it against Faith's lips and lower face, enforcing the presence of the silicon-rubber plug.

"Mrrrrrf!" Faith complained.

"Hush," Cook purred as she used her strong, freckled fingers to smooth Faith's taut and well-adhered tape-gag.  "Hold still," she commanded, then returned the roll of tape and scissors to the drawer and pulled out another coil of rope.

When the proverbial dust settled, Faith upper-arms were pinned to her body and her wrists crossed and lashed against her spine, just below her shoulder blades.  It was the same "mean" variant of the box-tie Faith had used to bind Eppi and Enid at the start of the evening's festivities.  Any differences in the fine detail of hitching, cinching, and knot composition and placement were inconsequential.

"Mrrrf?" Faith inquired.

"I told you to be quiet, Pumpkin," Cook purred.  Just as now and then Faith addressed Cook as Sadie, the ginger senior servant sometimes used Faith's mother's pet name for her darling daughter.

Then, much to Faith's naked, bound, gagged, and wide-eyed consternation, Cook pulled a black cloth from another pouch on her utility belt—"MRRRK!"—and pulled it over her head!  It was a hood, a light-tight but breathable hood!

Cook then draped an arm over Faith's rope-yoked shoulders, hugged her close from the side, and led her from the bedroom, turning out the lights and closing the door behind them.

"Mrrrf?" Faith inquired as she involuntarily padded at Cook's side and down the no doubt very dark hallway.

"Don't worry, Pumpkin," Cook purred (again using Faith's maternal nickname), "I've got you.  I won't let you run into anything."

As she carefully placed one bare foot in front of the other, Faith reflected that Cook/Sadie did, indeed, have her, in every meaningful sense of the concept.

Faith's naked, bound, gagged, and hooded journey through Grey Mansion in the custody of a suddenly and inexplicably wicked and kidnap-prone Cook/Ninja continued.