by Van ©2018
		Chapter 15

"MRRRK!" Jordan screamed through her bit-gag (with rose-pink panties stuffing).

Flat on her back on her mother's massage table—her arms stretched overhead with her wrists buckled in padded leather medical restraint-style cuffs—her left leg stretched towards the foot of the table with her ankle bound in a similar leather medical restraint-type cuff—broad, taut leather straps stretched across her body at the chest (above her breasts), waist, and left thigh—her right foot frozen in a high kick enforced by a single taut strand of coyote-brown paracord binding her ankle, foot, and big toe on pointe, Jordan was helpless.  Naked, spreadeagled (at three points), strapped down, high-kicking, and helpless!

Inescapable bondage and humiliating nudity were bad enough, but far worse were the pair of objects Leda, the smiling, gloating, pretty sundress-wearing authoress of her predicament, was holding in her hands.  Now, Jordan knew exactly what the pipsqueak twerp was planning in her twisted little mind, exactly how she intended to collect on their bet (or at least had a very good idea).  The Evil Swan had wagered that Cupcake (Robin Cleary) could and would endure a full four days of "indoctrination" at the hands of Miriam (Jordan's loving mother) without wimping out and quitting, and she'd won!  And Jordan had lost!  And now she was paying the price.

What Leda intended to do to her was horrible, insidious, and evil (see also perverse)!  But far worse... it was girly!

"Mrrrk!" Jordan reiterated, with less volume but just as much horror and anger.

"Calm down, Jordy," Leda chuckled.  "I've warned you.  Several times I've warned you."

Robin was confused.  She could see what Leda was holding, but had no idea why Jordan was so obviously upset.  And as Robin was naked, bound in an integrated single-sleeve armbinder/body-harness and ball-gagged, she couldn't ask.  Actually, the ball-gag was the reason for her not being able to ask, but the leather bondage prevented her from removing the ball-gag, so it contributed.  Anyway...

In Leda's right hand was a can of shaving gel, and in her left what Robin recognized as Leda's personal feminine electric razor.

Leda gave the can a shake.  "Skintimate Raspberry Rain moisturizing shave gel!" she announced.  "It has a yummy-delicious smell!"

"Mrrrk!" Jordan responded.

What's wrong with raspberries? Robin wondered.

Leda gave the razor a shake.  "And I can personally vouch for this particular model.  It gives a very smooth, close, irritation-free shave, especially with the help of a little gel... or a lot of gel."

"Mrrrk!"  Jordan thrashed and fought her restraints with all her strength, momentarily accepting the pain of the cord pinching her left foot and big toe.  Her resistance was futile, as the saying goes.

She's gonna shave her bush! Robin assumed.  That was Leda's obvious target: Jordan's dark, mildly overgrown, riotously curly pubic bush.  Kinky, but as insidious tortures go, not bad.  After all, it'll grow back.

Leda smiled at her BFF.  "I have warned her," she explained.  "A proper lady keeps her legs smoothly shaved at all times.  But Tomboy, here, lets herself get absolutely simian on a regular basis."  She shifted her smile back to Jordan's gagged, horrified face.  "Like now."  She set the shaver down on the table, popped the top from the can of gel, and spritzed a generous dollop onto her right palm.  "I've warned her that if she didn't start shaving her gams like a normal person, I'd do it for her.  Really.  I've warned her."

The gel was translucent and dark-pink, which was a surprise to no one in the stall.

Leda gave the dollop a delicate sniff.  "Yum!  Raspberries!"

Oh... her legs, Robin realized.  Tomboy's legs aren't that hairy," in Robin's opinion.  Hairier than I like to let my 'gams' go between shaves, but not that hairy.

Jordan was continuing her theme-of-the-day: angry and unhappy.  "Mrrrk!"

Leda began spreading gel on Jordan's elevated leg, replenishing her palm as needed from the pretty pink can.  The translucent pink gel turned to a pale-pink foam as Leda worked it into a lather, her hand sliding up and down Jordan's skin.  Soon, Jordan's left leg was coated with a thin, lubricating layer of pale-pink from her ankle to her calf, her shin, her knee (including the back of her knee), her thigh (inner, outer, upper, and lower), and all the way to the right margin of her pubic thicket.

Now even Robin could smell the raspberries.  The gel's scent was strong but not overpowering.  She surmised Jordan was able to smell it as well.  The prisoner-of-the-table's nostrils were flaring.  Also, apparently, Jordan didn't like raspberries, and she was letting Leda know about it.

"Mrrrk!"

Smiling her gloating, evil smile (and even her BFF agreed Leda's smile was deliciously gloating and evil) Leda stooped, lifted a hand towel from the box, and cleaned the remaining gel from her hand.  Appropriately, the towel was a light pink in color.  She draped the towel across Jordan's right thigh, then picked up the razor and clicked it on.

"Bzzzzzzz..."

"Mrrrk!"

"Here we go," Leda announced (unnecessarily), and began, slowly, carefully running the vibrating head of the shaver down Jordan's leg, using the towel to wipe foam from the head of the razor as required.

It was too horrible to watch!  Jordan clenched her eyes tightly closed, shivered in disgust, and squirmed in her inescapable bondage.

However, it wasn't too horrible for Robin.  She watched with rapt attention as the razor did its job, slowly removing foam and leaving in its wake ever-lengthening strips of smooth, tan skin.  Jordan continued shivering and tugging on her bonds.

I wonder if it tickles? Robin mused.  I've shaved my legs a million times and it never tickles.  But you can't tickle yourself.  It doesn't work.  Being a longtime believer in the value of experimentation, Robin had tried, meaning had tried tickling herself.  She realized there was a way to resolve the issue: she could conduct another experiment by having Leda tie her down and shave her legs with her insidious Raspberry Foam of Doom and Evil Torture Razor.  Yeah, I'll get right on that, Robin resolved (sarcastically).

Finally, Jordan's high-kicking right leg was 99% foam free (and raspberry scented).

Leda clicked off the razor and wiped its head one last time.  "Hmm..." she purred, gently sliding her hand up and down Jordan's smooth, strong, tan, fruit-scented leg.  "Nice."  She smiled at Jordan.  "Now, isn't that better?  Don't you enjoy being a girl?"

"Mrrrpfh!"

Robin wasn't sure exactly what Jordan was trying to say, but guessed it was something on the theme of "Bite me!" only much ruder.

Leda turned and headed for the stall door.  "I need to fetch some water," she announced as she opened the door and crossed the threshold.

Robin's eyes popped wide.  "Mrrrf!"  Wait for me!  Too late again.  She hurried to the now closed stall door and watched over the top of the latched, shoulder-height door as once again Leda sashayed across the barn, out the side door... and was gone.  Robin turned and returned to the table.

Robin gazed at Jordan.

Jordan glowered at Robin.

I wonder if Swan will let me shave her left leg, Robin wondered.  After all, I am her student.

While they waited for Leda to return, Robin and Jordan communed in gagged, silent commiseration and condemnation, respectively.

Had they been free to speak, Robin's best guess was their conversation would have gone something like this:

Robin: "So... it's not too bad having your leg shaved by a gloating Swan, is it?"

Jordan: "Bite me."

Robin: "Oh, lighten up.  Did it tickle?"

Jordan: "Bite.  Me."

Oddly enough, Jordan's thoughts ran along similar lines, but unfortunately, at least for now, the Swan's prisoners couldn't compare notes.

Leda finally returned, lugging a sloshing metal bucket in her left hand.  "I'm back!" she announced unnecessarily, with a bright, gloating, and truly infuriating smile (in Jordan's glowering opinion).

Robin started blinking again.  What's next? she wondered.  Actually, Robin knew exactly (or with a high probability) what was next, Jordan's left leg, but she was nervous (and more than a little bit horny).

Leda set the bucket on the floor next to the cardboard box, produced a pink washcloth from said box, wet it in the bucket, and wrung it out.  She then proceeded to give Jordan's right leg (the high-kicking, smoothly shaved, raspberry-scented leg) a gentle but thorough sponge bath (with the washcloth standing in for an actual sponge).

With Jordan's right leg now glistening wet and hair-free, Leda released the paracord's quick-release knot, lowered the gam in question, then rearranged Jordan's strap and cord bindings until Jordan's left, "hairy" leg was executing the cord-enforced high-kick and her right, freshly shaved, raspberry-scented leg was the one flat on the table and held in place by ankle-cuff and thigh-strap bonds.

And then... violating all standards of common decency and civilized conduct... Leda applied gel (which quickly became pink foam) to Jordan's left leg and used the buzzing razor to shave it smooth, hair-free, foam-free, and girly, just like her right!  In Leda's defense (in Robin's opinion), symmetry demanded that both legs be equally depilated, but Cupcake could tell that Tomboy disagreed.

Leda was a cruel, despicable, foam-and-razor-wielding maniac!  And she must pay!  (That was Jordan's opinion on the matter, anyway.)

Leg-shaving mission accomplished, Leda used the washcloth and bucket to clean Jordan's left leg, then returned the gam to its former cuffed and strapped down status.  The prisoner-of-the-table was back in her four-point spread-eagle (with strap reinforcement), and the coyote-brown paracord was coiled and back in the cardboard box.

And then—although Robin wouldn't have thought it possible if she hadn't seen it herself—Leda expanded on her raspberry-scented perfidy by applying foam to Jordan's armpits and using the buzzing razor to shave them as well!

"Mrrrpfh!"  Jordan was making it crystal clear that when a villainess (like, for example, The Evil Swan) involuntary foamed and shaved her armpits, it did, indeed, tickle!

Robin watched as Jordan shivered and squirmed on the table and giggled and growled through her gag.  Giggle-growl, Robin-the-writer considered.  Griggle?  That isn't a word... but should it be?  I'll have to think about it.  I'll ask for opinions on my blog.

Anyway, Leda carefully, methodically shaved Jordan's pits, and afterwards used the damp washcloth to wipe them clean, first on the left... and then on the right.  She then washed her hands and smiled down at... Jordan's crotch!

"Mrrrk!"  That was Jordan, tugging on her wrist cuff, squirming under the broad, taut straps, and trying to kick her cuffed feet.

"Nrrr!"  That was Robin, shaking her ball-gagged head.

Leda shifted her smile to her BFF.  "What?"

"Nrrr!" Robin reiterated, then padded around the table until she was gagged-face-to-ungagged-face with Leda.

"I told you to stay over there," Leda objected, pointing at the far side of the table.

"Nrrr!" Robin repeated.

Still smiling, Leda spun Robin around, parted her hair, unbuckled the ball-gag's strap, re-secured the buckle on the strap's first hole, then spun her back around until they were once again face-to-face.  "What?" the smiling Swan once again inquired.

By this time Robin had experience expelling a slack-strap ball-gag from her mouth, especially when its buckle was secured on the strap's first hole.  She did so, and the glistening silicon-rubber sphere bounced on the armbinder-retaining-straps crisscrossing her chest above her harness-strap framed boobs.

Robin licked her lips and locked eyes with her BFF.  "Don't you dare shave her bush," she huffed.

Jordan lifted her eyebrows in surprise.  Cupcake is coming to my defense?

"Why not?" Leda purred.

"In the first place," Robin explained, "it's a very pretty bush—lush, dark, and, uh, aesthetic—and it would be a crime against damselhood to have to wait for it to grow back."

"I wouldn't say crime," Leda chuckled, "but I get your point.  Anything else?"

"You've dug your hole deep enough," Robin continued.  "She's gonna kill you when the two of you get back to work.  Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"I suppose you're right," Leda agreed.  "She probably thinks killing would be too good for me.  But of course she's gonna take her revenge, silly.  That's how the game is played.  I might as well dig a deep hole."

Robin sighed.  "Oh.  I see.  I knew that.  Or know that.  Or... whatever."  Robin gazed at Jordan, who gazed back.  She didn't seem as angry as before, but Robin realized that was probably temporary.

Leda's smile broadened as she leaned close and planted a quick kiss on her captive BFF's cheek.  "You're new to all this, Top.  That's why I'm teaching you."

Robin smiled (and blushed).  "For which I am very grateful, Bottom."

Back on the table, Jordan rolled her eyes and sighed.  Disgusting!

"Anyway," Leda continued, turning her smile back to Jordan's crotch, "I wasn't contemplating shaving such a pretty pussy, not completely.  I thought I might try my hand at a little lady-scaping."  She turned back to Robin.  "What do you think of a nice heart-shape?"

Robin considered the proposition (and Jordan's crotch).  "You think you're up to it?  Her thicket is so dense and curly.  It would be easy to botch.  A bramble bush like that probably won't hold any shape very well, unless you give her a preliminary crew-cut and work with that.  And I don't think it would look anywhere near as good as it does now, regardless."

"Hmm..."  Leda returned to gazing (and smiling) at the bush in question.  "You're probably right, Cupcake." Her smile brightened.  "I could try topiary."

Robin giggled.  "A nice swan?"

"Mrrrrr!"  Jordan was back to being her former furious, naked, leather-bound, and bit-gagged (with rose-pink panties stuffing) self.

 Leda laughed, stooped, and lifted a small, dark-pink plastic bottle with a black cap from the cardboard box for her BFF and the prisoner-of-the-table to inspect.  "Early-Harvest Raspberry Eau de Toilette, from The Body Shop," she explained, reading the label aloud.  "Available at a mall near you or online."

Jordan's eyes popped wide.  "NRRRR!"

"Yes," Leda purred as she clicked off the cap of the bottle, revealing the head of a pump-dispenser.  She spritzed the inside of her left wrist, waved it in the air, then gave it a delicate sniff.  "Wow.  Pretty pungent."  She held her wrist so her BFF could take a delicate sniff of her own.

Robin's button nose wrinkled.  "I'll say.  Overpowering."

"Yes," Leda agreed, "the sort of thing a tween girl experimenting with her femininity might try, before she learns that less is more and fruit fragrances belong in ice cream shops."  Still smiling, she gave Jordan's pubic bush a generous spritz... followed by a second spritz... followed by a third spritz.

"NRRRRRRR!"  Jordan fought her inescapable bonds with all her strength.

Now, the overpowering scent of raspberries hung in the air of the stall, but Leda was far from finished!

The smiling Evil Genius of Girly Torture continued spritzing Jordan's helpless, writhing body, including her freshly shaved legs and armpits, her flat tummy, and her breasts.  She was nice enough to drape the still slightly damp washcloth across Jordan's gagged, furious face to protect her eyes, then continued the aerosol assault by spritzing Tomboy's outstretched arms, shoulders and neck, and her long, tousled, brown hair!

I wonder if it stings?  Robin considered as Leda delivered additional (superfluous) and final spritzes to Jordan's armpits.  They are freshly shaved, like her legs.  The way the captive was squirming it was impossible to tell.  I bet it stings... a little.

"Phew!" Leda chuckled as she reloaded everything she'd used to turn Jordan into a giant, freshly shaved, overripe raspberry back into the cardboard box, then picked it up and headed for the stall door.  "We'll let her marinate for awhile."

"Uh, okay."  This time Robin was quick enough to follow.  She certainly didn't want to remain at the scene of what future generations would no doubt be refer to as The Great Raspberry Atrocity.  "If this was a cartoon, pink, wavy lines would be rising off Tomboy's body and forming a drifting pink cloud up in the rafters."

Leda smiled.  "My work here is done," she declaimed as the BFF's crossed the stall threshold.

"Promise me you'll never do that to me, Swan," Robin demanded (begged) as Leda closed and latched the stall door, then led the way across the barn to the person door set in the main doors.

"Oh, certainly not, Cupcake," Leda answered solemnly as she opened the door and held it for her naked and leather-bound BFF.  "Not with raspberries, anyway."

"Huh?"

"Strawberries."  She favored Robin with a truly terrifying, truly sinister smile.  "All these products are available in strawberry."

"Leda!" Robin whined.

That was the last thing Jordan heard before the person door closed with a bang and she was alone in the stall, naked, helpless, and raspberry-scented.  She heaved a tragic sigh (momentarily roiling the raspberry fumes rising off her body) and settled in to wait for The Great Raspberry to accept Leda's sacrifice and escort her to Raspberry Valhalla.  Either that or Mother will appear and release me.  I hope she brings a gasmask.  I hope she brings two gasmasks.

Jordan was in a bit of a quandary.  She was proud of her metalworking skills and creativity, but was afraid she might not be up to the task of designing and crafting a Horrible Fate truly worthy of the occasion, a technological marvel of restraint and torment that could extract full retribution for something as massive as Leda's Raspberry Transgression.  Maybe Cody will have some ideas, she thought.  Between the two of us we ought to be able to think of something.

It was, indeed, Miriam who strolled into the barn approximately an hour after the departure of The Monkey Twins and released her daughter from the massage table.

Being Jordan's maturely hot maternal unit and Robin and Leda's Wicked Witch/Mistress, Miriam began the process of healing by ignoring the invisible raspberry stink wafting from her beloved daughter.  She held her breath as much as possible, of course, but continued smiling, kept any snide and/or snarky comments to herself, and generally did her best to camouflage both her amusement at the situation in general and her respect for Leda's creative perfidy.  She did nothing, however, to hide her pride in her beautiful daughter's strength and resilience, even in the face of raspberry-scented horror.

Jordan requested the loan of a shovel so she could dig a pair of shallow graves about a thousand yards into the woods.  Apparently, an hour of "marinating" in the barn had convinced her that swift and immediate revenge was her best course of action, as opposed to elaborate, premeditated retribution at some unspecified future date.  Her mother refused, of course, and Jordan hadn't really been serious.  Obviously, protracted retaliation would be much better, no matter how much delayed.  Jordan allowed herself to be led back to the house for a much needed shower and shampoo.  Or possibly several showers (with lye soap and a loofah, if available) and the expenditure of an entire bottle of shampoo.  Lather-rinse-repeat.

When they arrived at the kitchen, Leda and Robin were nowhere to be seen.  Miriam commanded that Jordan go take her shower and leave the Monkey Twins alone (wherever they were hiding).  Then, she should go play with the dogs until supper, but only after her shower.  Otherwise, the hounds would run away into the woods if she tried to come near them.

"Very funny, Mother," Jordan huffed, then stomped (meaning padded, see also "flounced) off to de-raspberry herself.

Miriam managed (with difficulty) not to double over with laughter, then composed herself and set about dinner preparations.

Meanwhile, down in the dungeon...

---

"I still say it's all your fault and Miriam has no right to punish me too," Robin complained.  "This is mass punishment, and that's against the Geneva Convention."

Leda lifted an amused eyebrow.  "There's a Geneva Convention governing the conduct of erotic BDSM games?"

"No!" Robin huffed.  "I mean... there ought to be, but... shut up."

"Okay," Leda agreed, smiling sweetly.

Robin scowled at her BFF.  Leda's nonchalance was infuriating... although she had to admit that the sight of Leda, her lover and teacher-in-all-things-top, was hot, especially as she was at the moment.

The Monkey Twins were both naked, incarcerated in the Miriam's dungeon, and locked in identical hardware.  To wit: (1) their ankles were locked in heavy duty, close-fitting shackles separated by twelve inches of hobbling links; (2) their wrists locked in heavy duty, close-fitting manacles separated by eighteen inches of reach-restricting links; and (3) their necks locked in two of Miriam's collection of three steel cable-collars.  The long chain tethering Robin's collar was permanently attached to the dungeon wall by means of the heavy iron ring set in the concrete, and Leda's collar-chain was temporarily attached by means of a heavy duty padlock snapped through the same ring.

Robin and Leda had entered the kitchen, giggling like naughty schoolgirls.  Robin was still naked and armbinder/harness bound and Leda resplendent in her pretty sundress.

Miriam smiled (as usual) when the girls entered the kitchen, then sniffed the air.  Simply having been in the Massage Stall while Leda spritzed vast quantities of raspberry-scented eau de toilette on Poor Jordan, it was inevitable there would be some blow-back, and there had been.  Both Twins smelled like raspberries.  Miriam stepped close to Leda and looked down into the cardboard box in Leda's arms.  Her smile faded and she locked eyes with the suddenly nervous Swan.

"What did you do?" Miriam demanded.

Leda had no choice but to confess, and she did so.  Her deposition was lengthy and detailed.

Miriam shook her head sadly, then shifted her profoundly disappointed and penetrating gaze to Robin.  "You helped, no doubt."

Robin blinked in surprise (and blushed).  "No, no, no!  How could I?"  She gave her inescapable leather bonds a brief, explanatory struggle, for emphasis.  She also batted her eyes and bit her lower lip.  She was the very image of naked, innocent helplessness.

Miriam wasn't fooled.  She continued staring into Robin's eyes.

"Uh... okay... I watched," Robin admitted.

What followed was Miriam ordering Leda to strip, then remove Robin's harness, armbinder, and ball-gag.  Then, the two miscreants were to remain in place and wait.  The Wicked Witch/Mistress of Cedar Wind Farm then stomped from the kitchen.

Leda followed Miriam's orders.  The naked BFFs were standing with their hands atop with their eyes properly downcast when Miriam returned.

Robin watched as Miriam locked one of her steel cable-collars around Leda's neck, then gave the long, attached chain a tug.  "Come," she ordered, and marched the now equally naked Monkey Twins down the stairs to the basement.

There, Miriam outfitted Leda and Robin with their present manacles and shackles.  Afterwards, both house guests were led into the dungeon, the far end of Leda's collar-chain was padlocked to the iron ring set in the far wall, Robin's neck was locked in the dungeon's existing cable-collar, and Robin and Leda were now dungeon guests.

And then, with the usual squealing hinges, turning locks, and thunking of the steel door's bolt, Miriam made her departure and the BFFs were abandoned... alone... sitting together on the dungeon's sleeping-pad... naked, chained, and languishing at the Wicked Witch/Mistress' pleasure.  But at least they were together!

"I still don't get it," Robin huffed.  "This is mean."

"Oh, Cupcake," Leda chuckled.  "You're so cute when you're clueless."

Robin pouted in response.

Leda leaned close and planted a kiss on her fellow captive's lips.  "Allow me to explain."

"You are my teacher," Robin groused.  "Explain away."

Leda grinned.  "Miriam has a hard and fast rule for multi-day visits like this."

"Yes?"

"No kinky stuff on the last day," Leda explained.

Robin's pout morphed into a wry smile, then she lifted her hands and rattled her chains.  "Including bondage?"

Leda's smile was unchanged.  "It isn't the last day yet, Cupcake," she noted.

"That would be tomorrow," Robin sighed, then her expression brightened.  "Oh, I get it.  She's locking us in the dungeon so Jordan won't be able to murder us once she's released from the barn."

"That's part of it," Leda purred, "but she also enjoys locking charming, attractive, naked women—such as ourselves—in her dungeon."

Robin rolled her eyes (and grinned).  "You think we're stuck down here 'til tomorrow?"

Leda shrugged.  "Prob'ly."

Robin sighed, again.  "A pity.  Naked.  Locked in steel chains.  And absolutely nothin' to do."

Leda also sighed.  "Yeah."

Both BFFs heaved an additional simultaneous, well coordinated sigh... then pounced!  That is, the prisoners pounced on each other.  It was a mutual pounce.

Much kissing, breast mauling, manual exploration, and boinking ensued. As well as a great deal of chain rattling and clinking.  Their inescapable steel restraints were something of an impediment, but they managed.

Around sunset they had a visitor.

The steel door's bolt was thrown back—Thunk!—the door opened—Eeeeee!—the dungeon alcove's barred gate was unlocked and opened—Eeeeee!—and the Monkey Twins beheld Jordan standing before them, hands on hips and an evil smile curling her lips.  She was wearing boots, jeans, and a tank-top.  Oddly, she was not accompanied by a cloud of raspberry fumes.

Robin and Leda cuddled together, looking as naked, helpless, and pathetic as possible.  The prisoners noted that Jordan's skin might be a little pink, but it was difficult to be sure in the dim dungeon light.  They independently surmised the perceived pinkness was probably the result of Jordan scrubbing herself raw in the shower.

Jordan turned and strolled back to the basement... then returned to the dungeon with a tray.  She set in on the dungeon floor at the foot of the sleeping pad, then, hands once again on hips, glowered at the cowering captives.

Robin and Leda gazed down at the tray.  It held a large plate loaded with various sandwich halves, a couple of apples, and two cold, moisture-beaded cans of diet soda—Sprite for Robin and Dr. Pepper for Leda.

"Don't worry," Jordan purred as she spun on her heels and returned to the barred gate's threshold.  "I didn't spit on anything."

Leda glanced down at the tray, then smiled at Jordan.  "No raspberry cobbler for desert?"

Jordan stared at Leda.

Leda smiled at Jordan.

Robin wished there was a large rock she could crawl under and hide.

"Epic," Jordan said, finally.  "It may take months to design and fabricate something suitable, but my revenge will be epic."  She shifted her furious gaze to Robin.  "And that means you too, Cupcake."

With that, Jordan closed the barred gate—Eeeeee!—turned the key in the lock—Click!—stepped into the basement and closed the steel door—Eeeeee!—and was gone.

Robin sighed, then turned on her BFF.  "Are you—mrrrf!"

"Wait for it!" Leda interrupted, quickly placing her right hand over Robin's mouth.

Thunk!  It was the sound of the steel door's bolt being thrown, of course.

Leda grinned and withdrew her hand.  "You were saying?"

"Are you insane?" Robin demanded.  "Are you out of your freakin' mind?  Do you have a death wish?"

"Oh, Cupcake," Leda chuckled, "you have so much to learn about how this game is played.  Let's eat."  She grabbed a ham sandwich-half and took a big bite.

Robin stared at her BFF's chewing, smiling face, then shook her head in disgust, grabbed a turkey sandwich-half, and took a bite of her own.  I guess I do have a lot to learn, she mused as the meal continued.

Afterwards, they stowed the tray at Miriam's prescribed position next to the barred gate to await its eventual pickup.

"Is there some rule about having to wait a half hour?" Robin inquired, smiling at her fellow prisoner.

"That's for swimming," Leda answered, "and I think it's bullshit, anyway."  She was also smiling.

"Oh," Robin nodded.

And then... as before... they pounced!

It was many hours 'til dawn.

The next day—Robin, Leda, and Jordan's last day at Cedar Wind Farm—was, indeed, fun-filled but bondage free, as per Miriam's standing decree.  The Monkey Twins spent the final night together in the Tower Bedroom (making out, boinking, and generally continuing to take their relationship to a whole new level).  Come the dawn, everybody enjoyed a tasty and filling breakfast in the kitchen.  And then, after tearful goodbyes with Miriam and the wolfhounds (who seemed especially sorrowful to find Jordan departing), they hit the road.  Actually, only the humans were tearful.  The hounds frantically wagged their tails, panted, and slobbered, but they did whine a little as Jordan's Jeep pulled away.

Sitting in the back seat next to her BFF (and lover!) Robin steeled herself for the long, boring drive back to town... and was astonished to discover that they were only about a half hour from the city limits!  Leda explained that on the trip out they'd driven her around and taken "the scenic route," as she put it.  This was for purposes of Robin's disorientation and to make her think she was isolated and miles and miles in the middle of nowhere.  As Robin had been tape-gagged and blindfolded with her wrists cuffed behind her back at the time, the despicable subterfuge had worked.

"Very funny," Robin pouted, then completed the rest of the unexpectedly short trip in a huff.  Actually, she admitted to herself, it was a pretty funny prank.  I'll have to get back at them, somehow.  Robin was coming to realize that tit-for-tat was an important element of this new and wonderful game she was now playing.

On the bright side, half hour drives meant future visits to Miriam and the Wolfhounds wouldn't require hours of wasted time on the road, wouldn't burn a lot of gas, and could be more frequent.

And thus it was that Robin Clery's initial experiments in imprisonment were concluded—she met Jordan, Miriam, and the Wolfhounds—lost a BFF roommate but gained a BFF lover—and her education as a top began.

But wait!

There's more!