by Van ©2018
		Chapter 14

Robin was having a weird night.

She was back in the "tower guestroom," the sleeping quarters Miriam had initially assigned her (before morphing into the Wicked Witch/Mistress of Cedar Creek Farm and reassigning her to the basement dungeon), but Robin wasn't tied up with rope, buckled in tight leather restraints, or locked in inescapable steel chains.  Nor had she been stripped naked.  Actually, she was naked, but it was entirely by choice.  Robin wasn't in the habit of sleeping in the nude (or hadn't been), but tonight it seemed... right... at least for now... here at the farm.  When she returned to her comfy bedroom in the apartment she shared with Swan, maybe her usual pajamas of tank-top or t-shirt and panties would once again feel natural, but at this time and place, natural felt natural.  Anyway, the distinction was that she hadn't been stripped naked prior to being made Miriam's prisoner.  Robin was nobody's prisoner, and her nakedness was voluntary... or maybe due to laziness.

That wasn't the weird part.

Her lack of captivity was a little unsettling, but Robin knew she'd adjust... eventually.

The weird part was Leda.

After freeing Jordan from the pillory, the BFFs had scampered back to the kitchen and the safety of Miriam's maternal proximity.  There, they'd enjoyed modest bowls of chicken noodle soup.  Both were still full(ish) from their relatively recent picnic down in the dungeon, so a light supper of a little soup was all they needed or wanted.  Jordan had stormed in from the barn, naked, highly agitated, and highly moisturized (especially her boobs).  But before she could wreak havoc on Cupcake and Swan (the Monkey Twins), her mother intervened by kissing her on the cheek and handing her a bottle of Boston Lager and a plate bearing a yummy sandwich and a handful of potato chips.  Jordan returned her mother's kiss, then stormed off to her bedroom to eat in sullen solitude.  The temperature in the kitchen rose appreciably upon her departure.  Anyway, soup bowls empty, the BFFs helped Miriam clean up, planted kisses on her smiling cheeks, exchanged three-way goodnight wishes and retired to their respective bedrooms.

And just to be clear, Leda herself wasn't weird (or no weirder than usual).  The weird part was Robin being unable to think about anything but Leda.

There were possible diversions.  Robin had several unread novels digitally stored on her iPad, but found she wasn't in the mood for reading.  Leda loves me?  That was all Robin could think about... and worry about... and brood about... and do her best to ignore (without success).  Leda loves me?

Suddenly, Robin heard feet climbing the steps to her room, there was a quiet knock at the door, the door opened before she could give permission, and—

Robin's eyes popped wide.  Miriam and Leda were crossing the threshold.

Miriam was smiling and wearing the same sandals and pretty printed dress as before.

Leda, on the other hand, was naked and box-tied with hemp rope, and with a hemp noose/leash around her neck.  The far end was in Miriam's hand, of course.  Also, Swan's hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and secured with about six inches of neatly and tightly wrapped hemp cord and her lips were sealed by a single generous strip of Elastoplast tape that covered most of her lower face.  Robin noticed that her BFF's eyes were also wide.

"Now then," Miriam said, still smiling, "you girls stop messing around and do as you're told.  Discuss your feelings.  Now.  Or else."  With that ultimatum, she turned and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.  The BFFs heard the sound of a key turning in the lock—click—followed by Miriam's feet trudging down the stairs.

Robin stared at Leda.

Leda stared at Robin.

"Huh?" Robin remarked.  She fully realized that at least with respect to Miriam, her inquiry was both belated and not particularly profound.

Leda seemed to understand perfectly.  Her eyes smiling above her gag she padded to the bed and sat.

Robin noted her BFF was still wearing the chain linking her nipple-stirrups.  It swayed as she walked... and when she sat... then continued swaying until the motion dampened and stopped.  In Robin's considered opinion, the stirrups and chain were pretty.  They complimented Lea's breasts, which were also pretty, as was her navel piercing, with its sparkling diamond stud.  Also pretty.  And as for her pubic bush, it was neatly trimmed, dense, and the individual hairs dark, curly, and—

"Mrrrpfh!"

Robin blinked a couple of times.  "Oh, sorry."  She reached out and teased back a corner of Leda's tape-gag.  Then, slowly and carefully, peeled away the milky white strip.  It stretched and distorted the Swan's lips and face as it surrendered its adhesive grip.  Once it was free, she folded the strip back on itself and tossed it on the bedside table.

Miriam hadn't used stuffing, so once Leda licked her lips she was free to speak.  "Miriam is under the impression that we're suppressing our true feelings," she said quietly, her eyes locked with her BFF.  "You know, the 'L-word,' by which I mean love, not the other 'L-word.'  I tried to explain that she's obviously mistaken, but—Mrrrpfh!"

Robin had lunged forward, thrown her arms around Leda's bound arms and torso, and pulled her into a tight, boob-on-boob, compacting embrace.  She was also doing her best to wrap her tongue around her BFF's tonsils.

Leda returned the kiss.

This continued for some time (as did the mutual boob squishing)... and then they came up for air.

"I love you," Robin said in a whisper.

"Yeah, well, I love you," Leda countered, "so how ya like them apples?"

Robin smiled.  Classic Leda.  "Well, I love you more.  And another thing—Mrrrf!"

Whatever Robin had been about to add was preempted by the return of Leda's lips and tongue.

The deep, wet kiss resumed.

Eventually... again... the BFFs came up for air.

"So... love?" Leda inquired.

"Love," Robin confirmed.  "Love?" she inquired.

"Love," Leda confirmed, and the long, wet kiss resumed yet again.

"Mrrrr!" Leda said (so to speak) after several seconds.

Robin pulled back.  "What?"

Leda smiled.  "Miriam also said we have to sort out who's the top and who's the bottom."

Robin lifted an eyebrow.  "Say what?"

Leda smiled.  "Top and bottom.  Dominant and submissive.  Xena and Gabrielle.  Rizzoli and Isles.  Daphne and Velma."

Robin cocked a skeptical eyebrow.  "Daphne and Velma?"

"Okay, strike that one," Leda conceded.

"Rizzoli and Isles is also a little iffy," Robin added.

"Never mind," Leda chuckled.  "We have to decide on our respective roles.  Miriam says so."

"Oh, well, if Miriam says so..."  Robin released her embrace and flopped down on her back on the bed, staring up at the rafters.  "I guess we don't have much choice."

"None whatsoever," Leda agreed.  Only slightly impeded by her box-tie-bonds, she flopped down next to her BFF, snuggled against Robin's side, and rested her head on her shoulder.

"Well..." Robin sighed, settling an arm around Leda's shoulders.  "That being the case... I guess I'm the top."

Leda's smile turned mischievous.  "You're the top," she sang in a whisper, "you're the Colosseum.  You're the top.  You're the Louvre Museum."

"Shush," Robin admonished the singing Swan.  "No desecrating Cole Porter.  Anyway," she continued, heaving a sigh, "the only problem is..."

"Yes?"

Robin sighed, again.  "I don't know how to be a top."

"Oh, I see," Leda said gravely.  "That is a problem.  Hmm..."

"Hmm..." Robin agreed.

Leda's smile returned.  "That being the case..."

"Yes?" Robin prompted.

"I guess I'll have to teach you."

Robin grinned.  "Oh, would ya?  That'd be swell."

"It's settled then," Leda said, sitting up.  "I'm the bottom, you're the top, and I teach you how."  She twisted her box-tied upper body.  Her nipple-stirrup-chain shook and swayed as she did so.  "Untie me."

"Why?" Robin demanded.

"So I can start teaching you."  Leda wiggled her useless fingers.  "Untie me."

Robin's grin morphed into a full-blown smile.  "Can't argue with logic."  She sat up and began untying her BFF.  Miriam had crafted a conventional, rather simple box-tie, so unraveling the Wicked Witch/Mistress' rigging took no time at all, and while she was at it, she also untied Leda's noose/leash.  Also...  She loves me!  Robin's heart was thumping and her pussy absolutely purring with delight.

Free of Miriam's ropes, Leda stretched, reaching for the ceiling and arching her back.  "Eyaaah!"  She then smiled at Robin... and pounced!

"Hey!"  Robin found herself grabbed, spun around, pinned face down on the bed, and the ropes she'd just untied from around her naked BFF's body tightening around her naked body!  "Leda!"

"Hush," Leda chuckled as she worked, "I'm teachin' ya."  She noted that Robin, her BFF and top-in-training, was squirming and kicking her feet, but wasn't really trying to prevent her bottom/teacher from accomplishing her self-appointed task.

"But now?" Robin whined, the side of her face squashed against a pillow.  "We have to start tonight?"

"To coin a phrase," Leda purred, "there's no time like the present."  She lifted and turned her semi-cooperative student as required to complete a standard box-tie.  Leda had decided to go with the "semi-sadistic" version, so Robin's arms were folded behind her back and raised past the horizontal with her wrists lashed against her spine, halfway between the small of her back and her shoulder blades.  And as Leda also had her former leash-rope to work with, she added a tight waist-rope to anchor the box-tie from below, just as the shoulder-yoking strands anchored it above.  However, she did not extend the waist-rope into a full-blown butt-cheeks-and-labia-cleaving crotch-rope, which she could easily have done.  Leda had plans for Robin's pussy and strands of rope would be in the way.

"This is mean," Robin whined (and smiled).

"It is, isn't it?" Leda purred, "but remember, a good top always keeps her bottom under tight control.  Are you taking notes?"

"I know how to tie a box-tie," Robin huffed.

"Well then..."  Leda rolled Robin onto her back (and box-tied arms), then knelt with her knees splayed to either side of her student's shoulders and her pussy hovering directly over Robin's pouting (and smiling) lips.  "Let's see if you know how to suck my pussy, shall we?  Every top needs to know how to make her bottom suck her pussy."

"Crude, Swan," Robin admonished her teacher.  "Very déclassé."

"What's wrong with crude, Cupcake?" Leda chuckled, then lifted off her student, scrambled around, and reversed position.  Her pussy was still hovering directly over Robin's pouting (and trying not to smile) mouth, but now she was facing Robin's pussy.  Leda leaned forward and placed her hands on Robin's inner thighs.  "Spread 'em," she ordered, and forced her student's legs apart.  She noted that it didn't take much effort.  She then leaned even further forward and settled a portion of her weight atop Robin's torso.  Their breasts were now more-or-less squashed against each other's tummies.  Also, their lips and tongues were well within range of each other's pussies.

"You're putting on weight," Robin complained.  "Is there such a thing as a horse-slash-swan hybrid?"

"Quiet!" Leda chuckled.  "Nobody likes a whiny bottom, by which I mean a whiny top-in-training."  She then licked her lips and set to work implementing the rest of the evening's lesson plan. 

In educational circles, what followed might be characterized as an instructional feedback loop.  Leda the bottom/teacher taught Robin the top-in-training the finer points of cunnilingus, but in a manner that allowed Robin to immediately confirm that she was absorbing the fine points of the lesson.  One might say Leda's lecture was accompanied by a simultaneous oral exam, which Robin passed with flying colors (as well as smacking lips and swirling tongue).

Leda was a firm believer in repetition as a teaching tool, so lesson followed lesson and orgasm followed orgasm (for both Cupcake and Swan).

Eventually, by mutual consent, instruction terminated for the evening.  Leda scooted around until they were head-to-head and side-by-side, embraced her box-tied top, and both lovers fell into satiated, exhausted, and shared slumber.

The next morning Robin and Leda slept in.  Initially, the locked tower bedroom door had something to do with it, but before they had to resort to pounding on said door and demanding access to the guest bathroom below, Miriam appeared with a tray of coffee, cream, sugar, brown sugar, raisins, two mugs, two bowls, two spoons, two napkins, and a covered dish of piping-hot oatmeal.

"You girls scamper down and use the facilities," Miriam decreed, "then scamper back up here and have breakfast in bed."

"Do we have to scamper?" Leda muttered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  "Hey!"  Robin had grabbed her left hand and was pulling her from the rumpled sheets and tangle of hemp rope and towards the open door.  (Yes, at some point before dawn, the lovely Swan had untied her precious Cupcake.)

"Yes, ma'am," Robin giggled, planting a kiss on Miriam's smiling, dimpled cheek as they passed.  "Scampering, ma'am."

"Yeah, what she said," Leda mumbled, managing to also plant a kiss as she was dragged through the door and down the stairs.

Morning toilettes quickly accomplished, the "Monkey Twins" scampered back to the bedroom and did, indeed, enjoy breakfast in bed.  Miriam had already departed.

"So... Bottom," Robin said as she added a sprinkle of brown sugar and raisins to her oatmeal, "what are you gonna do to Jordan?"

Leda smiled and sipped her coffee before answering.  "Well... Top."  She set down her coffee and began garnishing her oatmeal.  "In the first place, it's very bad form for a top to divulge her fiendish plans ahead of time.  And in the second place, that would be telling."

Robin grinned.  "I think your two places are one place, but I get your point."

The naked lovers ate in companionable silence.

"So... Bottom," Robin said as she scraped the bottom of her bowl.

Leda smiled.  "Yes... Top?"

"Ya think poor Jordan is all nervous, anxious, and worried?"

"Oh, gee, let me think," Leda said as she scraped her bowl.  "Yes.  Your point?"

"No point," Robin said as she set down her bowl and took a sip of coffee.  "I'm just thinking how insidiously cruel it is to prolong her suspense."

"It is, isn't it?" Leda agreed with a smile.  "Ya got something else to do?  Something besides torturing a beautiful, naked tomboy?"

Robin sipped the last of her coffee, then returned her bowl, spoon, and mug to the tray. "Jordan's a tomboy?"

Leda favored her BFF/lover with her best are-you-kidding-me expression.

"Okay," Robin chuckled, then plucked Leda's empty mug from her hand and returned it to the tray, together with Leda's bowl and spoon, "she's a tomboy.  But I would have gone with hoyden.  Tomboy is rather... blasé.  Yes, I would have gone with hoyden."

"Of course you would," Leda drawled, "but answer the question.  Ya got something else to—Mrrrf!"

Robin had pulled her naked BFF/lover into an embrace and was planting a deep, wet kiss on her oatmeal-flavored mouth.

"Oh, that," Leda said when they came up for air.  "Yeah... I suppose we could do that."

And they did.

At some point in the process of making Jordan wait to learn her cruel fate, they overturned the breakfast tray and made a slight mess of the sheets, but they already needed changing so Miriam probably wouldn't be too upset.

It was approaching mid morning by the time Leda, Robin, and Jordan trooped from the house, across the lawn, and towards the barn.  Leda was resplendent in sandals and a pretty sundress (the only sundress she'd packed for the trip to the farm) and was holding a lunch-size paper bag.  Robin was naked and bound in leather.  Jordan was also naked, but not bound in any way.  All three maidens' long, brown tresses were loose about their shoulders and framing their smiling, smiling, and frowning faces, respectively.

Why was Robin naked and bound in leather?  Back in the kitchen Leda had decided (decreed) that the initial collection of her winnings would be an excellent learning experience for her top-in-training.  Miriam agreed, Robin disagreed, and Jordan abstained (being sullen, resentful, and refusing to participate in the polling).  So, Robin lost the vote.  Miriam (ever the gracious and helpful hostess) loaned Leda a few items from her collection, and before she knew it, Robin was naked and wearing both a single-sleeve armbinder and a complicated body-harness of narrow straps.  Both were gleaming black leather (with a lightly pebbled, very attractive finish) and polished steel hardware.

The armbinder was the lace-up-the-back kind that crushed Robin's elbows together.  Actually, her elbows were about two inches apart, but the thing was anything but roomy.  A pair of straps at the top yoked Robin's shoulders and crisscrossed above her boobs.  They prevent me from sliding my arms up and out of the sleeve, Robin realized.  That would be manifestly impossible with or without the straps, of course, but why not?  The damn thing might as well include a pair of secondary and totally superfluous horizontal straps that encircle my wrists and elbows.   And, of course, the damn thing did!

The sleeve was tight!  It was also a work of art.  Actually, in the opinions of Leda, Miriam, and (begrudgingly) Jordan, the sight of a naked Robin Clery pouting and struggling against the binder was the work of art.

As for the body-harness, it pinned the tightly encased Robin's arms against her back and was a veritable web of thin, pliant, diagonal, vertical, and horizontal straps, and included a vertical crotch-strap pliant enough to half-fold on itself where it cleaved Robin's labia and butt-cheeks.  Robin realized the binder and harness were two halves of a single integrated system.  Several of the harness straps passed through leather retainers riveted into the sides of the armbinder, making sure nothing shifted of slackened no matter how hard she struggled.  It was complicated, and Leda had required Miriam's help sorting out the details.

Finally, a ball-gag was buckled around Robin's neck in necklace mode, ready to silence the pouting top-in-training if she decided to smart-mouth her teacher.

And why was Jordan naked but not bound?  Leda explained, for her student's benefit, that Jordan's nakedness would expedite the impending unspeakably cruel torture she was about to perpetrate upon her winnings' helpless body (which Robin considered to be blindingly obvious).  Also, ordering Jordan to change into her birthday suit in the house (and in front of her smiling mother) helped keep track of discarded clothing items.

"Always remember: neatness is next to dominance," Leda had lectured (much to Miriam's amusement, Jordan's disgust, and Robin's slight puzzlement). 

And as for the not-being-bound part, it emphasized Jordan's subservience and was manifest evidence of both her acceptance of her lowly status and the justice of her fate.

In any case, Jordan-the-naked-martyr trudged (padded) to her doom in front of the smiling Swan and the captive Cupcake, naked, her hands atop of her head with her fingers interlaced, and with the expression of an Innocent Damsel (who was going to murder somebody whenever Mother gave her permission).

They entered the barn and Leda led her student and Jordan to what Robin recognized as "The Massage Stall," the stall with the long, narrow, padded table where—by Miriam's expert hands—she'd been strapped down, oiled, massaged, then teased by vibrating nipple clamps and a hanging wand.  I suppose I could think of it as the Vibrational Torture Stall, Robin thought, but 'Massage Stall' will do.  It's more polite.  Also, Miriam's oily, gliding, maturely hot hands had been memorable.  Not that the vibrators weren't.

"You are not gonna give me a massage," Jordan growled as she stared down at the table's gleaming brown leather padding and medical-style restraints.

Leda winked at Robin.  "Well, we agree about that," she purred, then dropped the paper bag in her hand to the floor and patted the table.  "Hop up."

Still scowling, Jordan followed the Swan's order.  Soon, she was on her back, on the table, and staring (glowering) at the rafters as Leda worked her way around the table, buckling cuffs and tightening straps.  Binding and buckling tasks complete, Leda stepped back, stood next to Robin, crossed her arms across her chest (and under her boobs), and smiled.  Jordan (Leda's winnings) was now spreadeagled on the table with tight, padded cuffs binding her wrists and ankles and broad leather straps stretched across her chest, above her breasts, her waist, and her mid thighs.

Robin noted that the taut straps dimpled both Jordan's flesh and the edge of the table's padding (just as they had when Miriam strapped her to the table).  The sullen, naked tomboy/hoyden was stretched as if on the rack, but not to the point of actual torture, per se.  Anyway, Robin noted, Jordan's boobs were somewhat flattened, her strap-restrained tummy taut, and her leather-cuffed feet on pointe (as had also been the case when Miriam had strapped her to the table).  Robin also noted that the prisoner-of-the-table wasn't happy.  Robin remembered also being unhappy, but her feelings had been a mix of fear, curiosity, and horniness.  There had also been an element of trust, as her "torturer" had been Miriam, and Robin assumed that was probably the case with the Leda/Jordan dynamic.  This was going to be... interesting (just as it had been interesting when Miriam strapped her to the table).

"Allrightie-then," Leda chuckled as she strolled to the Massage Stall's cabinet and opened the door.  "Decisions, decisions," she sighed as she gazed at the contents.  She knew the door was blocking Jordan's and Robin's view as she ran her right hand across the various items hanging from hooks or pegs within.  Her smile widened.  "Perfect!"  She lifted a gag from its hook and held it for Jordan and Robin to see.

In Robin's opinion (and even a total newbie would agree) the gag was best described as a "bit-gag."

Leda confirmed her BFF's assessment.  "A silicon-rubber bit gag," she lectured, "with a locking buckle."  She closed the cabinet, strolled to the table, and tossed the bit-gag on the padding above Jordan's tousled hair and between her outstretched arms, then leaned close and smiled into Jordan's glowering face.  "But since you're totally helpless, there's no practical reason to me to waste time hunting down one of your mother's cute little heart-shaped padlocks, is there?"

Jordan didn't answer.  It was a rhetorical question.

"And look what else I've got," Leda purred as she retrieved and opened the paper bag, then pulled out a pair of rose-pink hipster-style bikini panties, gingerly holding them between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand.  "Ta-dah!"

Robin gazed at the panties in mild puzzlement.  By-the-way, the panties were pretty.  Not my color, she decided, but still, pretty.  I suppose I could wear them if I had to.  Next time I go shopping maybe I'll pick up a pair... just not in that exact color.

Jordan was also gazing at the pink panties, and even though she still didn't say anything, it was clear she was even less happy than before.

"I see you recognize them," Leda purred, then shifted her smile to her BFF.  "She brought two identical pair of these things on our backpacking expedition, wearing the first pair and changing into the second the morning of day three.  So..."  She shifted back to Jordan and dialed up the gloating aspect of her smile.  "Each pair was worn for two very sweaty days of hiking."  She shifted back to Robin.  "She only wore panties during the day, of course.  They would have been in the way at night."

Robin gazed at Jordan... who glowered back at her.  "Uh... I see."

"Anyway," Leda continued, "I found them in the laundry hamper, but there's no way to tell which was which, meaning which was worn days-one-and-two, and which was worn days-three-and-four."  She gave the panties a delicate sniff, then wrinkled her nose.  "Both are equally ripe, so I just chose one at random... and here we are."

Jordan found her voice.  "Swan," she growled, "if you stuff that thing in my mouth I swear-to-God I'll—Mrrrfh!"

Leda had done just that, meaning stuffed the "ripe" pink panties into Jordan's mouth.  Then, holding them in place with one hand, she crammed the rubber bit of the bit-gag between Jordan's teeth and tightened the strap's buckle at the nape of her neck.

"Mrrrrrrrrr!" Jordan complained as Leda freed her tousled hair from under the strap, then tightened and re-secured the buckle.

"There," Leda sighed, combing Jordan's hair with her right hand as she smiled down at her naked, helpless, glowering, and now gagged coworker and winnings.  "Well, what do you know.  'Pretty in pink' also goes for gags," she purred.  "Who knew?"  She then smiled at Robin and strolled in her direction.  "And speaking of gags..."

"Uh... you like that color?" Robin asked (nervously), taking two unconscious steps back and bumping into the stall's side wall.  "Oops.  Uh... anyway, I think it's too pink.  I'd probably go with more of a salmon color.  Wouldn't you?  Also—Mrrrf!"  Her BFF had popped the ball-gag formerly dangling around her neck into her mouth, spun her around, parted her hair, and was tightening and securing the buckle at the nape of her neck.

Now both naked occupants of the Massage Stall were gagged, one on the table and the other stamping the dusty floor with her bare feet.

"I have some things to gather," Leda announced as she strolled through the stall door

"Mrrrf!" Robin declared.  She hurried to follow, but wasn't quick enough.  The door closed with her on the wrong side.  "Nrrr!"

"Wait here and keep Jordan company," Leda chuckled, then turned and sashayed across the barn, swinging her hips and the hem of her pretty sundress... then out the side door.

"Mrrrrk!"  Like I have a choice?  Robin heaved a sigh, then turned back to gaze at her fellow stall-prisoner.  If looks could kill... Robin mused, noting Jordan's effectively gagged and furious expression.  But then, if that were true, neither Swan nor myself would have made it out of Miriam's kitchen alive.  She turned and looked back out into the main barn.  All was quiet.

Robin heaved another sigh.  I'm in love with a sadistic bondage freak, she thought.  Cool!

Miriam was elsewhere when Leda reentered the kitchen and made her way to her guest bedroom.  Maybe she's playing with the hounds, Leda thought as she transferred several items from her luggage to a small cardboard box she'd borrowed from their hostess.  I know if I wasn't busy torturing my naked friends I'd be playing with the hounds.  They're so much fun.  She then retraced her steps to the barn and returned to the scene of her ongoing crime.  Needless to say, things in the stall were unchanged.  Robin was still naked, armbinder-bound, harnessed, ball-gagged, and helpless, and Jordan was still naked, spreadeagled on the table, and bit-gagged (with rose-pink panties stuffing).

"Miss me?" Leda inquired, smiling brightly.

Both naked prisoners glowered in answer.  Robin's gagged-expression was more disgruntled than angry.  Jordan, on the other hand, was still staring lethal daggers.

"Sorry for the delay," Leda purred, "but I had to fetch a few things before we could continue."  She set the box on the floor on the side of the table opposite Robin.

Robin was curious, of course, so she began padding around the table to see what was so important that her BFF had felt compelled to callously abandon her in the stall.

"No ya don't," Leda chuckled, pointing across the table (and its stretched captive) to Robin's former position.  "Stay."

Robin heaved a gagged sigh, then padded back to what apparently was her assigned post.

Meanwhile, Leda had strolled to the back wall, released the ratchet of one of the hand-cranked winches Miriam had used to rig the insidious vibrator array that had entertained Robin, and was turning the crank and lowering the cable.  She stopped when the carabiner-style clip at the end of the cable was at a convenient height, then stooped and lifted a generous coil of coyote-brown paracord from the box.

"Recognize this stuff?" she asked Jordan.

Jordan didn't answer, not even with a gagged growl.

Leda smiled at her ball-gagged BFF.  "This is the same cruel cord she used to bind my poor, innocent, naked body so she could have her wicked way with me," she explained as she released the coil and found one end.

Robin blinked and stared at the thin brown cord.  Oh, that stuff.

Leda released the coil, looped one end of the cord around Jordan's right ankle, below her leather cuff-restraint, then tied a non-compacting knot.  She then took a ladder-style hitch around Jordan's foot, another hitch around her big toe, then clipped the remainder of the coil through the hanging clip.  Returning to the wall she turned the hand crank—Click, click, click, click...—until the clip was up near the overhead rafter.  The cord played out as the clip rose, so now the long cord binding Jordan's already ankle-bound foot stretched up and through the clip and dangled down to the floor.

Robin and Jordan watched (Jordan with attentive self-interest) as Leda released the leather strap across Jordan's thighs, passed the strap under her right thigh and back over her left thigh, then buckled it tight.  Next, she unbuckled Jordan's right ankle-cuff and immediately began hauling on the cord.

"Mrrrf!"

The complaint was from Jordan, of course.  As her leg was pulled upwards, she tried to resist, but when she struggled the cords binding and looped around her foot and toe became punishingly tight, especially with respect to her big toe.

Once Jordan's leg was fully raised and the cord as taut as the proverbial fiddle-string, Leda passed it around a table leg and tied a quick-release knot.  Jordan was still spreadeagled on the table at three points (with straps), but now her right foot was raised with her foot on pointe and the cord making sure it stayed that way.  It was as if Jordan was lying on her back and executing a high kick with her right leg—exactly as if she was lying on her back and executing a high kick with her right leg.

Leda returned to the side of the table opposite Robin, smiled at Jordan, and began gently sliding her hand up and down the high-kicking captive's right inner thigh.  "Comfy?" she inquired.  "We're almost ready."

Jordan continued starring daggers at Leda.

Robin watched, with wide eyes (and a purring pussy).  Ready for what?  She still had no idea what, exactly, her BFF intended to do to Poor Jordan.

Leda's smile was now downright evil.  She stopped massaging (teasing) Jordan's thigh, leaned down, lifted a pair of objects from the cardboard box, and held them where both Jordan and Robin had a clear view.

Jordan's gagged scowl evaporated and was instantly replaced by an expression of wide-eyed horror!  "MRRRK!"