by Van ©2013
		Chapter 9

Clem's strappado ordeal continued.  Truth be told, an aficionado of the Rapscallions' "hobby" might consider the use of the word "ordeal" to be a bit strong.  After all, Clem's feet were flat on the rug and the combination bend-at-the-waist crunch and hands-behind-the-back arm lift was in no way extreme, but Clem was not happy.  She'd already made the formal decision to officially characterize her predicament as an ordeal.

J-Lou's TV screen was now divided into three windows, each depicting one of Clem's fellow Rapscallions, and all three were lashed to their beds.  The Prisoner-of-the-Attic had witnessed their "captures" and individual bindings—first Gwen, then Rory, and finally Siri.  It had been quite a show, and the redhead, ginger, and blond continued squirming, struggling, fighting their respective bonds, mewling through their respective gags, and doing their best to ignore the rabbit vibrators buzzing away in their respective pussies.

All three of the televised prisoners had already experienced orgasms, and they'd been impossible for Clem to miss.  Her friends weren't undergoing constant torture—meaning entertainment—but they were certainly being put through the proverbial wringer.  Clem had heard J-Lou tell Siri, her final victim, that the three Rapscallions were each being treated to video of the other two.  Clem assumed that was true, but there was no way she could verify the fact—other than by the way their eyes tended to focus in the off-camera direction of the TVs in their bedrooms—when they weren't otherwise occupied as the erotic-spectacle-of-the-moment, that is.  In any case, Sally seemed to be doing her best to coordinate the evening's entertainment for Clem's viewing pleasure.  While one captive was writhing in orgasm, the other two were either resting or "suffering" low-level stimulation.

And speaking of J-Lou, the little Brit was nowhere to be seen.  Where the hell is she? Clem fumed.  She promised to come back.

Just then, as if on cue, Clem heard footsteps on the attic stairs.  The door opened and the Queen of the Damsels appeared, resplendent in her all-black stalking outfit.  She smiled as she strolled towards Clem.  "Miss me?  Have you been enjoying the show?"

The questions were rendered rhetorical by Clem's gag, and her response was an angry stare and several rude and well-muffled complaining noises.

"Oh, you poor dear," J-Lou chuckled as she stood close, pressing her lower tummy against Clem's right hip.  She rested her right hand on Clem's shoulder and used her left hand to give the prisoner's thumbs a gentle pinch-test.  "Overall, your hands are a little pink," J-Lou noted, "but your circulation is unimpaired."  Her left hand then caressed Clem's butt while her right hand squeezed the closest of the captive's pendulous breasts.

Clem squirmed and fought her bonds.  "Mrrrfh."  It was a rather weak complaint.  She was doing her best to maintain her façade of Righteous Anger and Cool Indifference, but it was difficult.  "Mrrr."  Her last comment came out as a rather pathetic whimper.

"Poor damsel in distress," J-Lou teased.  "All naked and helpless, bound and gagged, and forced to watch her friends have all the fun."  Her left hand continued gently squeezing Clem's breast and her right hand slid between Clem's butt cheeks to lightly caress her labia.  "The night is still young, Clementine."

"Mrrf?"  It was another whimper, a questioning whimper.

"Poor, suffering damsel," J-Lou sighed, then broke contact and strolled to the wall beside her desk.  She released the slip knot in the rope enforcing Clem's strappado and let the rope play out.

Clem shivered with pleasure as she was finally able to stand erect.  It felt good.  She then remembered she was Officially Outraged by J-Lou's Heinous Cruelty, reasserted her angry stare, and directed its awesome power in J-Lou's direction.

J-Lou strolled back to Clem and released the snap hook from her wrist bonds.  She then gave Clem's butt a teasing slap and walked to the wardrobe.

Clem watched as J-Lou undressed.  The little Brit removed her turtleneck, unlaced and removed her black sneakers, peeled off her socks, then unzipped and removed her cargo pants.  The shoes were placed on the floor of the wardrobe and the outerwear went in her hamper.  She then removed her bra and panties and dropped them in the hamper as well.

J-Lou stretched her diminutive, perfect body, heaved a smiling yawn, then strolled to the bed.  She pulled back the covers and slid between the sheets, then focused on her prisoner.  "Well," she chuckled, "are you going to stand there all night... or are you coming to bed?"

Clem continued staring for several more seconds, then—bound at the wrists, elbows, and ankles, gagged with her own personal ivory and black whiffle gag, and wearing only her glasses—Clem slowly, carefully hopped towards the bed.  Her boobs flopped as she approached.  It was infuriating and humiliating—also, Clem had to admit, kinda hot.  She arrived at the bed, J-Lou threw back the covers, and the disgruntled prisoner sat on the mattress.

"Here, let me get that for you."  J-Lou reached up, unbuckled Clem's gag, and re-buckled it on its first hole.

Clem expelled the ball from her mouth and let it drop to hang around her neck, then worked her jaw and licked her lips.

Meanwhile, J-Lou had filled a small glass from an insulated carafe on the side table.  "Drink," she ordered, and held the glass to Clem's lips.

It was cool water.  Clem took several small sips, then licked her lips, again.  "Thank you," she muttered.

"You're welcome," J-Lou replied as she returned the glass to the nightstand.  She fluffed the pillows, lay back down, then patted the mattress.  "Make yourself comfortable."

Clem heaved a long-suffering sigh—while surreptitiously suppressing a smile—then rolled onto the bed and squirmed against her captor.

J-Lou adjusted Clem's glasses, pushing then against the bridge of her nose, then embraced the captive's bound body from the side.  "Let's watch the show for a while, shall we?"

"Like I have a choice," Clem huffed.  Her eyes were on the screen across the room.

Gwen was tugging on her bonds, squirming, shivering, and mewling through her gag.  It was the redhead's turn to orgasm.  Her body glistened with sweat and her eyes were desperate and wide.

Rory and Siri were enjoying rest periods.  Rory was completely relaxed, but Siri was panting and her modest breasts heaving.  It had just been the helpless blond's turn to cum.

"She's beautiful like that, isn't she?" J-Lou whispered in Clem's ear.

"Gwen is always beautiful," Clem sighed.  J-Lou's hands were caressing her breasts and tummy.  "But especially..."

"Especially naked, bound, gagged, and with a vibrator buzzing away in her pussy?" J-Lou suggested.

"Well... yeah," Clem agreed.  "Oh!"

J-Lou's hand was caressing Clem's labia... again.  "I have a rabbit for you as well, Clementine," the Queen of the Damsels purred, "but for the moment, let's enjoy the show."

Clem continued shivering.  "Please."  J-Lou's fingers slid inside her pussy and continued their slow, gentle, caress.

"Hush," J-Lou whispered.  "Watch your girlfriend cum and be quiet."

"M-my g-girlfriend?"

"Hush." J-Lou chuckled.  Seconds passed... with Clem continuing to squirm and J-Lou continuing to tease her pussy.  Finally, J-Lou leaned across Clem's body, opened the nightstand drawer, and produced a rabbit vibrator molded in ivory plastic.  "If you're going to be a greedy little damsel, I guess I have no choice but to give you your present."

Clem flinched, then bit her lower lip as J-Lou slowly slid the rabbit into her pussy.  She could have closed her thighs and tried to prevent or impede the process, but...  (1) There wasn't much point in resistance.  J-Lou was the Queen and Clem was only a Princess.  (2) Clem wanted it to happen.  Watching the capture and erotic "torture" of her fellow Rapscallions while forced to stand in strappado bondage had been more than enough to prime her pump.

"I'm not going to tie this in place," J-Lou explained.  "That way I can slide it in and out... like this."

"Ahhh!"  Clem gasped as J-Lou did just that.  The feeling was incredible... and the vibrator wasn't even turned on.  Clem, however, certainly was turned on.

"Don't worry, Princess," J-Lou whispered, then kissed Clem's ear.  "You're going to 'escape' before morning.  You're going to keep your point and remain Crown Princess of All the Damsels."

Clem was beyond caring about point totals or any other aspect of Gwen's "Bondorama Extravaganza Queen of the Damsels Tournament."  Clem had other concerns.

J-Lou continued slowly frigging her prisoner.  "My clever Princess," she cooed.  "You alone discovered my secret.  You alone surmised that Robokitty was my accomplice."  Her hand continued to move, the rabbit continued to glide, and Clem continued writhing and fighting her bonds.  "Cum, you clever girl," J-Lou whispered.  "Cum for your Queen."

In short order, Clem did just that.  And it was the first of several orgasms that would rock her helpless body before her predawn "escape."

Clem's "escape" wasn't a complete sham.  Saturday dawned, J-Lou roused her sleeping captive—the one sharing her bed, that is—then restored Clem's whiffle gag and untied her elbows.  "I assume you know what to do," she whispered in Clem's ear, then planted a kiss on her forehead.

Clem managed to squirm from between the covers, plant her bound feet on the floor, then hop to the uncluttered middle of the attic.  She flopped down onto the rug, wiggled until her wrists and forearms cleared her hips, then tucked her legs and passed her ankles through her arms.  Wrists now in front, she reached behind her head, unbuckled the gag strap, and spit out the ball.  Her lips and teeth made short work of her wrist bonds, her fingers made short work of her ankle bonds, and Clem stood erect, naked and free.

Meanwhile, keeping her amused and appreciative gaze on Clem's acrobatics, Her Majesty donned her slippers and robe.  She carried Clem's glasses to the waiting former captive, reached up with both hands, and slid them in place.

Clem gazed down at the short, smiling Brit, then pulled her into a warm embrace.  "That was fun," she sighed.

"It was," J-Lou agreed, lifted her chin, and kissed Clem's lips.  "Why don't you release your girlfriend and I'll free the ginger and the blond."

Clem let the "girlfriend" remark slide, but she had a question.  "Don't we have to formally verify that they haven't escaped?"

J-Lou smiled.  "For purposes of the game?  Sustained.  Sally?"

The HDTV turned on and resolved into the same three windows it had displayed the night before.  Gwen was still splayed in her "half spread-eagle," Rory was still shibari-bound, and Siri was still lashed to her headboard.  All three bound, gagged, and naked captives appeared to be fast asleep.

"No escapes, other than Four-Eyes," Sally's voice announced.  "I'm going back to sleep mode."

"Thank you, Sally," J-Lou laughed, then gestured towards the door.  "Shall we?"

Her Majesty and the Princess padded down the attic stairs.  Both entered the common bath, relieved themselves, and splashed water on their faces.  Afterwards, J-Lou headed for Rory's bedroom and Clem for her own bedroom.

Clem donned her robe and slippers, then went to free her BFF.  She opened Gwen's door... and paused.  Gwen was a sight—helpless, her toned, shapely body dimpled by her elaborate bonds of pink rope, the fingers of her visible hand gracefully curled, her ball-gagged face relaxed and girlishly innocent in slumber, the pink rabbit vibrator lashed in her pussy not so innocent—definitely a sight.

Suddenly, Gwen's vibrator buzzed to life!  Gwen flinched in her bonds and her eyes popped open.  "Nrrk?"  The initial shock and surprise of waking to find herself in bondage with a twin-motor vibrator throbbing in her hoo-haw rapidly turned to efforts to escape—"Mrrrpfh"—then pitiful begging when she realized Clem was present.  "Mrrr!"

Clem sauntered to the bed and smiled down at her BFF.  In her place, Clem knew she would have been demanding immediate release.  Gwen wasn't above adopting the role of Brave Captive, but Innocent Damsel was more her style.  "Well... you didn't escape," Clem noted.

Gwen paused to glare at her BFF—"Mrrf!"—then returned to Piteous Prisoner mode.  "Mrpfh."

"The heart melts," Clem sighed, then began untying the captive redhead.  First, she untied Gwen's frog tied left leg, then her right ankle from the right lower bedpost, and then her left wrist from the left upper bedpost.  Gwen's "half box tie"—the rope harness framing her breasts, binding her right upper arm to her torso, and her right wrist against the small of her back—remained intact, as did the ball gag strapped in her mouth and the crotch rope binding the vibrator in her pussy.

Gwen fumbled with the knot of the crotch rope, pausing only to glare at her rescuer.  "Mrrf!"

Clem laughed, then turned Gwen's head, parted her tousled, auburn hair, and released the ball gag's buckle.

Still trying to untie the crotch rope with one hand, Gwen spit out the gag.  "You rat!" she huffed.  "Get your priorities straight.  Hey!"  Clem had seized her left hand and pulled it away from the half untied knot.  At the same time she leaned close, pinning Gwen on the bed, and planted a kiss on her lips—a long, wet kiss.

The vibrator continued buzzing, rapidly alternating between the shaft and rabbit motors.  The kiss also continued, as did Clem's firm grip on Gwen's left hand.

Finally, Clem came up for air.  "My priorities are straight," she explained.  "It's your priorities that are skewed."

Gwen upper body was squirming against Clem's robe-clad body.  Her legs were straight and flat on the bed with her toes pointed.  "Please," she whimpered.  Then, the kiss resumed.  "Mrrrf."

Clem paused, again.  "Cum for me," she whispered in Gwen's ear.  "Cum for me, and I'll let you go."

"You... rat," Gwen sighed, fighting both her remaining bonds and her rescuer's grip.  Clem resumed the kiss.  Their lips sucked and tongues probed and slid together.  Finally, unmistakable spasms of pleasure shivered through Gwen's body.   "Ahhh!"

"That's my girl," Clem purred.  She maintained her grip on Gwen's free hand but lifted her own body and leaned back to watch Gwen squirm.  The vibrator finally stopped throbbing and Clem released Gwen's hand, stood, and took a step back.  "J-Lou says you're my girlfriend."

Gwen concentrated on untying the crotch rope.  Finally, she succeeded.  The rope slithered through the hole near the base of the rabbit and she eased the mint green device from her pussy.  "What did you say?" she muttered.

"You heard me," Clem chuckled.

Gwen started untying the key knot of her torso harness.  It was between her breasts.  "Girlfriends don't treat their girlfriends the way you treat me," she huffed.  Her Wounded Pout made her Righteous Scorn quite clear.

Clem wasn't fooled.  "Maybe that's the way I treat my girlfriends," she suggested.

Gwen paused in her knot untying efforts to stare at Clem.  "Girlfriends?  Plural?"

Clem stepped forward and took over the task of completing her BFF's release.  "So, you are my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend, BFF, whatever."  Gwen stood and turned her back to Clem, making it easier for her to free her right wrist and remove the remaining loops of rope.  Finally completely free, Gwen executed a slow, naked, full body stretch, then turned to face her newly acknowledged girlfriend.  "So..."  She paused to bat her eyes for effect.  "What does it mean?"

"It means you should stop trying to play me," Clem answered.  "And take a shower, 'cause you really need one.  Then, we can eat breakfast."  She went to Gwen's wardrobe and returned with her robe and slippers.  "As for the rest... I guess we'll find out."

Gwen stepped into her slippers... then pulled on her robe.  "I guess."  She cinched the robe's cloth belt.  "And you need a shower just as badly.  What did Her Majesty do to you?"

Clem turned towards the door.  "I'll tell you later.  J-Lou is freeing Rory and Siri."  She reached for the doorknob—but before she could open the door Gwen grabbed her from behind, spun her around, pulled her into an embrace, and kissed her lips—and the kiss was a repeat of the face sucking on the bed, deep and wet, and it lasted for several seconds.

This time, it was Gwen who pulled back first.  Arms still around Clem, she smiled and heaved a contented sigh.  "My girlfriend."

Clem smiled back.  "If you're gonna be that way about it, we can go back to being just BFFs."

"Don't worry," Gwen giggled.  "I won't embarrass you with public displays of affection, especially on campus."

Clem rolled her eyes.  "Thank god for small favors," she muttered.  "Come on.  I do need a shower."

"Wait," Gwen said, then went to her wardrobe.  "I'll be right there," she told Clem, and her BFF/girlfriend shrugged and made her exit.  The instant the door closed, Gwen rushed to her chest of drawers, opened a drawer, and rummaged until she found two short coils of white nylon cord.  She dropped them in the pocket of her robe, then hurried after Clem.

Siri woke to find herself still lashed to her headboard, her splayed legs still bound by the ankles to the lower bedposts, the blue and white ball gag, her present from Her Majesty, still strapped in her mouth, and J-Lou's other present, a pale blue rabbit vibrator, still lashed inside her pussy.  And it was the vibrator that had woken her up, because—it was buzzing!

Siri squirmed in her bonds, trying her best to escape, but her struggles were as futile and pointless as they'd been the night before.  Every detail of her bondage remained exactly the same as the moment J-Lou tied the final knot, despite Siri's hours of wiggling, writhing, and tugging on the cinched loops of cotton clothesline.  Seemingly countless orgasms had been extracted from her naked, helpless body by the rabbit.  And now it was doing it again!

Just then the bedroom door opened and J-Lou and Rory entered.  Both were smiling their trademark dimpled smiles.

J-Lou was wearing robe and slippers with her silky brown hair gathered in a ponytail.

Rory was naked, but for the loose, green and butternut ball gag dangling around her neck and the several yards of green paracord binding her upper body in an elaborate and obviously inescapable box tie.  Her long, straight, slightly tousled ginger hair was loose about her shoulders.

Siri glared at her captor and fellow prisoner, tugged on her bonds, and panted through her gag.  Her breasts heaved as the vibrator continued buzzing and throbbing.  "M'mpfh!"

"She seems upset about something," J-Lou noted as they strolled to the bed.

"I can't imagine what," Rory stated.

"Mrrrf!"

"You don't suppose it might be her wake up call, do you?" Rory suggested.

J-Lou shrugged.  "Possibly."

"MRRRRRF!"

"Should we wait 'til she cums?" Rory inquired.

"No," Her Majesty decreed, "everybody's hungry and we all need showers.  Sally?"

"Yes, O Mistress-Queen of All Damsels?" Sally's disembodied voice responded.

"Turn off Siri's vibratory friend," J-Lou ordered, "would you, please?".

"Right now?" Sally objected, "before she cums?  That's rather... insensitive, don't you think?"

"Now, please."  Her Majesty was still smiling.

"Okay, okay," Sally huffed, and the vibrator stopped buzzing.  "No need to get the Royal Knickers twisted in a knot... if Her Majesty was wearing Royal Knickers, that is."

Siri continued glaring and panting.  A sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead and heaving breasts.  She had been close to cumming when the rabbit stopped... one more thing for the bound, gagged, and naked blond to be pissed off about.

Still smiling, Rory watched as J-Lou began untying her friend.  First, Her Majesty freed Siri's ankles, then the ropes lashing her arms and torso to the headboard, and finally, the crotch rope.  Siri's wrists were the last to be untied, and Her Majesty had left the rabbit lodged in Siri's pussy and the ball gag buckled in her mouth.

J-Lou turned and headed for the bedroom door.  "I'm going to exercise my Royal Prerogative and take the first shower," she announced, then opened the door and was gone.

Meanwhile, Siri had unbuckled and removed her gag.  "You better run!" she shouted at the closed door.  Still seated on the bed, she turned her attention to extracting the blue rabbit from her pussy.

A smile curling her lips and dimpling her cheeks, Rory watched this process with her full attention.

Mission accomplished, Siri tossed the vibrator aside, stood, and stretched.  She then turned to her box tied fellow Rapscallion.  "What are you staring at?  And why didn't Her Majesty untie you?"

Rory's smile never wavered.  "To answer your first question, I'm staring at your funky, sweaty body.  As for the second, she's leaving that task to you."

Siri smiled, her first clear smile since waking, and sauntered towards Rory.  "So... your fate is in my hands."  She lifted the green rubber ball of Rory's gag.  "Maybe I ought to cram this thing back in your pie hole, where it belongs, hogtie you on the bed, and tell the others you decided to sleep in."

"Woe is me," Rory whispered.

Siri dropped the ball, then cupped Rory's breasts with both hands.

The smiling ginger gasped and bit her lower lip.  "You wouldn't be that mean," she sighed.  "You wouldn't leave me tied up and helpless.  Besides, Sally won't let you."

"What do you think I can do about it?" Sally's voice demanded, joining the conversation.  "I'm only the house avatar."

"You could send Robokitty to rescue me," Rory suggested.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sally huffed.

"We're not stupid," Rory responded.  "We all figured it out."

"When did that happen?" Sally demanded.

"Thursday," Rory explained.  "Lunch at the Sac.  Clem was late and—Ah!"

Siri had just given Rory's breasts a decidedly firm squeeze.  "Sally doesn't need to know about our secret meetings at the Sac.  She might bug the place.  And I still say a robot cat can't untie knots."

"Obviously, she can," Rory retorted.  "So... are you going to untie me, or play with my tits all morning?"

Siri was concentrating on teasing Rory's erect nipples.  "I'm thinking about it."

"Well..."  Rory bit her lip, again, and delicately shivered in her bonds.  "Stop thinking and start untying."

Siri released Rory's nipples, spun her around, and began teasing apart the key knot of the box tie.  "As previously agreed, we'll demand a demonstration of Robokitty's dexterity after we resolve the cheating question."

"Maybe we can do both at the same time," Rory suggested.

Siri was making rapid progress, and despite their complexity, Rory's paracord bindings were melting away.  "What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you later," Rory responded.  "Let me work out the details, then we'll discuss it with the twerp."

"But not Clem?" Siri asked.

"I suppose we could include Clem," Rory conceded.

"No," Siri answered.  "If Clem wanted to join the rebellion she should have immediately let us in on the 'secret of Robokitty' as soon as she figured it out.  Instead, she decided to become Princess Four-Eyes.  She deserves everything she's gonna get."

"Leia Organa was both a princess and a leader of the Rebel Alliance," Rory noted.  The last of the green cord was gone and she was rubbing her wrists.  "Hey!  Mrrrpfh!"

Siri had spun the ginger around, again, pulled her into an embrace, and was kissing her lips.

Rory returned the kiss for several seconds, then pushed herself away.  "Stop.  We need to get cleaned up."  She took Siri's hand and led her towards the door.  "C'mon."

By the time Rory and Siri padded into the common bathroom, Clem and Gwen had already finished showering and toweling themselves dry and were drying their hair.  J-Lou was in the large, tiled, open shower alcove, under the hot, streaming water, soaping and scrubbing her body.  She'd failed to get the first shower, but that didn't seem to be bothering Her Majesty.

Clean and dry, Clem and Gwen pulled on their robes and stepped into their slippers.

"It's your turn to cook, isn't it?" Gwen asked Clem.

"Yeah."  Clem headed for the door, and paused.  "Coming?"

"Not finished with my hair," Gwen explained, focusing on her reflection in the mirror above the washbasin.

Clem smiled.  "When are you ever?" she purred as she left the bathroom.

Gwen turned to Rory and Siri.  "Quick," she whispered.  "Now's the time to strike."  She revealed the two coils of white nylon cord in her pocket.

"Now?" Rory whispered back.  "What if she has plans for the day?"

"What if she does?" Siri huffed.  "We can sort it out at breakfast.  Carpe diem!"

"Or, carpe regina," Rory said, "as the case may be."

Siri frowned.  "Is that good Latin?"

Gwen giggled.  "Just grab her, okay?  Need help?"

"Not likely," Siri said with a smile.  The Rapscallions (minus Princess Four-Eyes) turned to watch their Queen.  J-Lou was oblivious to her audience, her back to the trio and eyes closed as she shampooed her hair.

Gwen handed the coils of cord to her coconspirators, then planted a quick kiss on both sets of lips.  "I'll leave you to it," she whispered, then made her exit.

Rory and Siri waited for their Royal Target to finish rinsing her hair, exchanged a grin, and pounced!

"Hey!" J-Lou's gasped.  She'd been grabbed by Siri and her arms pulled behind her back, and now Rory was binding her wrists!  "What are you doing?"

"I think it's rather obvious," Siri answered.  "Stop squirming."

Rory finished tying the Royal Wrists and shook out the second coil of cord.  "She's a slippery one, isn't she?"  The grinning ginger began binding the Royal Elbows.

"We're all slippery," Siri muttered.  It was true.  J-Lou was drenched from head to toe, but the shower was still running and the naked attackers were now just as wet.

Rory completed her binding duties and took a step back.  Siri released J-Lou and the diminutive captive executed an athletic, wet, and futile courtesy struggle.

J-Lou's wrists were crossed and her elbows nearly touched.  Her fingers fluttered, but could touch nothing.  She shook her head to clear the strands of wet hair from her face, but the effort was only slightly more successful than her attempt to escape her bonds.  She favored Rory and Siri with her best wounded pout, all the while suppressing a smile.  "This is High Treason, an outrage against the Royal Person," she huffed.

"On the floor, Your Majesty," Siri chuckled, pointing to a corner of the shower alcove.  It was away from the exit, closest to the running shower, and only a few feet from her naked captors.  "Any noise and we'll gag you with the sash from your robe, and don't you dare try and sneak away."

"The water might ruin the sash," Rory objected.

Siri shook her head.  "It's cotton.  Fully washable.  I can tell."  She pointed, again.

J-Lou sighed.  Then, as gracefully as she could, settled into the corner with her bound arms against the tiles, her legs folded to one side, and her feet on point.

"Stay," Siri ordered, unnecessarily, then flinched.  "What are you doing?"

Rory had soaped her hands and was running them over Siri's torso.  "I'm cleaning my dirty girlfriend," she purred.

J-Lou smiled.  "So, you two are girlfriends, just like Clementine and Gwendoline."

"I will gag you," Siri warned, and began soaping her own hands.

J-Lou smiled and kept silent.  Her back against the tiles and unseen by her captors, she slowly, carefully tested her bonds... with the same result as her courtesy struggle.  Rory had demonstrated, once again, that she was an experienced and talented rigger.  J-Lou abandoned her escape effort and watched the blond and ginger use their hands, sudsy washcloths, and a loofah mitt to scrub each other clean.  They were both making a very thorough and methodical job of addressing every nook, cranny, and curve of each other's bodies.

The side-scatter from the shower was keeping J-Lou dripping wet.  The tiles were hard, the air was hot and humid, and Rory's cords were rolling back her shoulders and causing her breasts to point, but she wasn't uncomfortable.

Siri and Rory didn't appear to be in any hurry.  Their hands (and other body parts) continued slipping and sliding together.  J-Lou was hungry and considered suggesting her captors might want to expedite matters, but decided to keep silent.  It would take time for Clem to cook breakfast, even with Gwen's help, and Her Majesty would just as soon not be gagged.

J-Lou watched the erotic, soapy spectacle, blinking as stray drops splashed her face, then focused on her captors' bare feet as they danced on the non-skid, textured floor tiles.  One pair was largish and fair, the other more petite, peachy-pink, and very fair.  Sudsy water dripped down their legs and streamed to the drain as the mutual cleansing continued.

Her Royal Highness, Queen of the Damsels and naked, wet kidnap victim, smiled.  I knew they were a couple, she thought, and now they know it too.