| Chapter 8
sequestered in The Mansion's second story exercise room, naked,
ball-gagged, my arms raised, elbows bent back over a trapeze
bar, and my wrists crossed and lashed behind my head, then bound
in that position by a neat, tight lattice of conditioned hemp
rope from my ankles to my shoulders (including a body-harness and
knotted crotch-rope), and up on tippy-toe!
Fun with rope. Hilarity with Hemp. The Wonderful
World of Bondage. Yippee!
No doubt about it, things at The Mansion were getting out of
This was Alice Through the Looking Glass! (Or more
precisely, Annie Through the Looking Glass.)
A little earlier, Logan had asked if I was done having fun yet,
referring to the ongoing "weekend party" being hosted by Kelly
and Gabby, and since I was ball-gagged at the time (and all the
way through to the present), I hadn't been able to answer;
however, I had acquiesced, even cooperated in
the process of being placed in my current predicament.
Which raises an interesting side-issue:
Was my current predicament an actual predicament? Was this
"predicament bondage?" Was dangling from a padded
trapeze-bar and being forced to support my weight with my toes
on a padded floor serious enough to be categorized as a bona
fide predicament? I could relax my feet and hang by the
bar without any great discomfort... for now. Also,
standing on my toes on the semi-bouncy floor wasn't a big
deal... for now. Logan hadn't placed me in an actual stress
position. It was more like a mean position.
Also, there were no nipple clamps, cruelly applied clothespins,
and/or electrical shock pads. Also, I wasn't straddling a
Sybian or a wooden horse. Also, I wasn't bound in some
absurd pretzel-posture normally associated with a contortionist
circus act. I was just... standing there.
So, was it predicament bondage? As far as I was
concerned... no... not really. I recognized that the jury
was still out.
Anyway, was I done? Was I hanging out in the exercise room
feeling naked, bound, gagged, and sorry for myself?
Strangely enough... no... not really. Naked, bound, and
gagged? Yes. Sorry for myself? No.
How often do you meet nice, interesting people like Kelly and
Gabby? How often do you get to see one of your new friends
tie up your best friend, then later get to watch the
aforementioned best friend bind and gag the other new
friend? Not very often, right? Had I reached my
limit? Not so much.
So... sequestered in the exercise room.
Time passed... as it often does... and I remained sequestered.
An hour? Possibly.
More time passed... and a possible hour became at least
And then, I noticed movement out in the backyard through the
A figure had stepped out onto the near edge of The Mansion's
expansive lawn, below my windows. The figure in question
was... Gabby? The distance was pretty great, but Kelly was
busy on that treadmill trudging on the slopes of Digital
Mountain down in a concrete cell down on the S1 level,
right? So it must have been Gabby. It was one
of The Sisters, that was for sure.
In any case (and speaking of figures), she (whichever sister she
was) was wearing a string bikini, sunglasses, her brown hair was
tied up in a tight bun, and a rolled towel was tucked under her
right arm. I watched as she padded further out onto the
lawn, unrolled and spread the towel on the green grass, then sat
on it and began applying lotion to her already tan, fit, and very
feminine body. The towel was a Native American blanket
pattern beach towel, probably from the Pendleton catalog.
The bikini was rose-pink.
Sunbathing? Really? With me up here in the exercise
room dangling from this stupid trapeze like a fish on the
line? How rude!
And then... another Gabby stepped into view!
She was also wearing a bikini (powder-blue) and sunglasses, with
her hair also up in a bun and a towel under her arm! I
watched in amazement as Gabby #2 deployed her Pendleton
towel (which was the same pattern but a different mix of colors)
next to Gabby #1, then sat and began slathering lotion on her
nearly naked, already tan, fit, and very feminine
body! And then Gabby #1 and Gabby #2 began applying lotion
to each other!
Gabby #2 had to be Kelly, of course, but at this distance they
really could be identical twins, especially since they were
wearing sunglasses. Either that or there was a third sister
lurking in the shadows and they were pranking me the
way Kelly and Gabby had said they enjoyed pranking their lesser
friends and business acquaintances by pretending that there was
only one sister living in The Mansion.
And then... a third bikini-wearing figure sauntered
into view, swinging her hips, but she wasn't Gabby #3! She
was Logan #1!
Logan's bikini was jade-green, and instead of a towel she was
carrying a tray with an insulated carafe and a pair of tall
glasses filled with ice and garnished with lime slices.
Also, she was wet, meaning she was dripping with water.
And that included the no longer ginger but now water-darkened auburn
tangle of hair trailing down her back. Obviously,
either The Mansion had a swimming pool and Logan-the-Red had
just taken a dip, or for some reason my bungalow-mate had
decided to drench herself with the garden hose. The
Mansion being The Mansion, my money was on there being a pool...
maybe more than one.
I continued watching as Kelly, Gabby, and Logan smiled, chatted,
laughed, and had themselves a grand ol' time while
Logan set the tray on the grass between The Sisters' towels,
poured a clear liquid from the carafe into the glasses, then
handed them to her employers. They continued smiling,
chatting, and laughing as The Sisters clinked glasses, took
sips, then set their glasses back down on the tray, lay back on
their pretty towels, and basked in the sun. Logan made
some no doubt exceedingly clever and/or witty remark, The
Sisters laughed, and Logan strolled away in the direction from
which she'd come, no doubt returning to the unseen and
previously unsuspected swimming pool to continue her refreshing
Okay, now I was feeling sorry for myself—naked, bound,
gagged, dangling in my tight, cozy ropes, and up on my
tippy-toes—and feeling sorry for myself.
Poor Annie. Poor helpless, naked, bound and gagged
Annie. I watched The Sisters continue basking... and I
languished and felt very sorry for myself.
Several long, tragically sad minutes passed.
I watched Kelly roll onto her stomach (and boobs), reach behind
her back and neck and undo the strings of her powder-blue
bikini-top, then continue basking. (I think it
was Kelly. In any case, it was The Sister in the
powder-blue bikini.) She'd undone the strings to prevent
leaving tan-lines on her back and shoulders, of course.
Meanwhile, Gabby continued basking on her back, but she had
removed her sunglasses. It was so she wouldn't develop
acute raccoon-face, of course.
Logan was nowhere to be seen.
And then, The Sisters exchanged a few words, Kelly sat up, and
retied the strings of her bikini-top. Next, she stood,
rolled up her towel, and strolled out of sight.
Gabby continued basking.
More minutes passed.
Suddenly—"Mrrrk?"—the double doors of my the exercise room
prison were unlocked—Click!—swung open, and Kelly crossed
the threshold and strolled in my direction. She was still
resplendent in her powder-blue bikini with her hair up in a bun,
but now her sunglasses were atop her head with the earpieces
tucked in her hair. A warm smile curled her lips, her blue
eyes sparkled, and she was beautiful. Also,
she smelled like cocoa-butter.
So... I could tell The Sisters apart at a
distance. Either that or I'd guessed correctly. (I had
a fifty-fifty chance.) Anyway...
"Oh, look at what Logan has done to you," Kelly sighed, shaking
her head. It was then that I noticed the black neoprene
and nylon webbing, uh, thing in her right hand. "Let me
take care of you." And then, over course of the next few
minutes, she did just that.
Specifically, Kelly lowered the trapeze-bar until I was down off
my hemp bonds, left the ball-gag in my mouth intact, and
replaced my hemp wrist-bonds with the aforementioned
"thing." The thing in question turned out to be a pair of
3"-wide joined wrist-cuffs of neoprene rubber reinforced with a
strip of nylon webbing. It secured by means of a single
black plastic snap-buckle.
That left me naked, ball-gagged, and with my hands behind my
back, palm-to-palm, with my wrists pressed together.
Oh-by-the-way, she'd done all this in a manner that would have
left me at a distinct disadvantage if I'd decided to
resist. She untied just enough of Logan's
trapeze-bar/upper-arm/body-harness rope bonds so I remained
tethered to the bar but she could still pull my arms down and
secure my wrists. Only after the rubber was snugged around
my wrists and the buckle snapped shut did she untie the rest of
the harness and my other bonds, including the knotted
So... naked, ball-gagged, rubber-wrist-cuffed, and with my hair
still restrained in a loose Sweet Gwendoline ponytail secured by
the same periwinkle-blue ribbon (with bouncy bow), I stood there
and blinked at my smiling, approximately 95% naked...
rescuer? What next?
What came next was Kelly gushing "So very adorable,"
then gently taking hold of my left upper-arm and leading me from
the exercise room. Again with "the A-word."
We padded down the hallway, made a turn, descended a set of
stairs to the first floor, then continued through the house to
what I could only call a combination greenhouse and indoor
swimming pool, the kind of place some people call a
"natatorium." (That sounds right. The Mansion would
have a "natatorium.")
The natatorium included:
tile was underfoot, and the general ambiance was more Art
Nouveau than Arts & Crafts. All the wrought
iron was twisty and... botanical.
- Several palms and
bushy tropical evergreen bushes in big pots;
- Ferns, bromeliads,
and orchids in hanging baskets or in pots resting on wrought
iron stands and tables;
- A naturalistic
swimming pool with flagstone edges, sort of a cross between
a traditional lap pool and a long, narrow pond;
- A wrought iron
cafe table with four wrought iron cafe chairs (with
- A couple of
wrought iron lounge chairs (with cushions);
- A hot tub, also
naturalistic with flagstone edges, and big enough to hold
about six friendly people.
Oh-by-the-way, Gabby was simmering in the hot tub and Logan was
swimming laps in the pool. Both were still wearing their
rose-pink and jade-green bikinis, respectively.
"There she is!" Gabby gushed as her big sister dragged me
kicking and mewling (meaning padding regally and quietly)
towards the hot tub. "Isn't she adorable?"
I give up! I just... give up! They
can call me anything they want, but didn't they realize how
hateful it was to keep labeling me with "the
A-word?" I rolled my eyes as Kelly led me to the edge of
the hot tub and helped me descend a set of built-in steps into
the warm (make that hot!), bubbling, and chlorinated
water. The chlorine odor wasn't all that strong,
but it was strong enough to compete with the humid,
earthy smell of the plants and soil and The Sisters'
cocoa-butter tanning lotion.
Soon, I was sitting on the tub's built-in bench, snuggled
between my bikini-clad hostesses/handlers, naked, ball-gagged,
and immersed in churning, 100-something degree water, up to my
nipples (and a little above).
Gabby reached behind my head, removed my periwinkle-blue Sweet
Gwendoline hair ribbon, rolled it up, and tossed it as far as
she could. It landed on the seat of one of the lounge
chairs. Then, while Gabby held my hair out of the way,
Kelly unbuckled my ball-gag and re-buckled the strap on its
first hole. Gabby released my hair, gently plucked the
baby-blue ball from my mouth and let it drop to my chest, then
planted a warm, welcoming kiss on my lips. Kelly also gave
me a kiss... which gave Gabby enough time to lean to the side
and lift a tall glass full of ice (with lime garnish) and some
I recognized the tray, as well as the carafe and second,
identical glass, which I'd watched Logan carry to The Sisters'
backyard sunbathing expedition from my trapeze-perch up in the
exercise room. And now that I noticed, the expedition's
Pendleton spa towels were also present, draped across the back
of the other lounge chair.
I worked my jaw and licked my lips... then graciously accepted
a sip from the glass when Gabby held it to my lips. It was
a Gin & Tonic... I think. I'm not a big cocktail
drinker, just like I'm not a big wine drinker (as I mentioned
earlier). Anyway, whatever it was, it was potent and
"How are you feeling, Annie?" Kelly inquired. She was
snuggling up against my right side with her left arm draped
across my shoulders. Gabby was on my left, equally close.
I leaned forward and took another sip of the G&T before
answering. "Hot and wet."
The Sisters laughed as Gabby retrieved the second G&T and
handed it to Kelly. (The glasses were acrylic, by the
way. My lips could tell.)
"So very brave," Gabby purred.
"She is," Kelly agreed. Then squeezed my shoulders.
Gabby gave me another kiss, then both sisters took sips from
their respective glasses.
We relaxed in the hot, churning, bubbling water. I was the
naked, mortified (and slightly aroused) filling in a Sisters
sandwich. It was... remarkable.
"Aren't you overheated?" Kelly inquired. She was speaking
to her little sister. "You've been cooking in this thing
since before I left to fetch Annie."
"A little," Gabby sighed, planted another kiss on my face, then
stood and sloshed her way up the hot tub steps. I watched
the water drip from her tan, fit, bikini-clad, glistening body
as she departed the hot tub. That was also remarkable.
Kelly and I watched Gabby stroll to the lounge chairs, dry
herself with her towel, then continue on to the pool.
"Hey Red!" Gabby shouted.
Logan swam to Gabby, rested her crossed arms on the pool's stone
edge, and smiled up at her junior employer. "Hey,
"Up you come," Gabby said, then reached down, took one of
Logan's hands, and helped her vault from the pool.
"You want me to start dinner?" Logan asked as Gabby started
drying her body.
"Something like that," Gabby purred, then began drying Logan's
Logan smiled at me as her junior employer dried her tousled mass
of red curls. "How ya doin', Kitten?" she called.
"Curl up and die!" I suggested.
Logan smiled, The Sisters laughed, then Kelly held the drink to
my lips, again.
Meanwhile, Gabby had finished drying Logan's hair and the
rest of her, the pair departed the natatorium/greenhouse,
hand-in-hand, and Kelly had me all to herself.
Kelly and I
remained in the hot tub for several minutes, about the length of
time Gabby must have been simmering before we arrived.
That's only a guesstimate, of course.
I wasn't gagged, so Kelly and I were able to make small talk,
and we did, and the small talk continued when Kelly decided we
were sufficiently parboiled. Then, she extricated me from
the tub and used her towel to dry us both. My hair was mostly
dry and Kelly's hair was completely dry as it was still up
in its bun. Anyway, when she was finished running the
thirsty terrycloth over both our bodies and had draped the towel
over the back of the lounge chair, we were dry. I was
naked, wearing only rubber-wrist-cuffs and a ball-gag-necklace
and Kelly was bikini-clad with her hair up in its aforementioned
Kelly then led me through The Mansion to the kitchen, positioned
me by a chair, and motioned for me to sit. I did so, and
we continued chatting as I watched her pull a plastic bag full
of miscellaneous chicken pieces from the refrigerator. The
pieces were sloshing in a marinade of some sort, oil and spices
and... stuff, and she opened the bag and used a pair of tongs to
carefully arrange the pieces in a rectangular glass baking dish.
At that point Gabby joined us. She was also still
bikini-clad with her hair in a bun.
Logan was conspicuous by her absence.
"Where's Red?" I inquired as Gabby leaned against the center
island and watched her 95% naked sister fuss with the marinated
chicken pieces. She smiled at me and shrugged, then joined
the ongoing conversation.
So... Small talk. What did we talk about?
Bondage techniques, diabolical predicaments, insidious
accessories, and methods of making life, uh, interesting for
naked, helpless damsels, right?
We talked about movies, TV, books, music, and just about
everything but our mutually shared "hobby." When
I think back on it, I suppose The Sisters were letting me
decompress, letting me settle into a pleasant buzz of nakedness,
rubber-wrist-cuff-bondage, and getting to know each other
Anyway... dinner was a leisurely affair, including the rest of
the preparation, the consumption, and the cleanup
afterwards. Oven-roasted chicken, mixed salad, fresh-baked
bread, and white wine. And it was a very tasty white
wine. I remembered to ask The Sisters about the rosé I'd
drunk (guzzled) yesterday, and learned that it was almost
certainly not available in refrigerator boxes. Oh
All good things come to an end, and so do chicken dinners being
fed to you by bikini-clad, beautiful, 40-something women.
(That marinade was yummy, by the way, and it's available
in supermarkets! Gabby promised to e-mail me the
details.) I started digesting the meal while Kelly and
Gabby finished the cleanup. I offered to help, of course,
being a gracious guest. The Sisters exchanged smiles, then
formally declined the offer.
"Nice try, Annie," Gabby chuckled.
"I'm afraid you're just too cute, sitting there naked
with your hands bound behind your back," Kelly explained.
I clandestinely accepted the compliment (who doesn't like being
called "too cute?"), but affected a tragic pout. "It was
worth a try."
The kitchen rendered spic and span, our next stop was the guest
Once there, Kelly and Gabby ran me through my nighttime routine
by brushing my teeth, scrubbing my face, and waiting patiently
while I somehow found the courage and fortitude to empty my
bladder while a pair of grinning, 40-something, bikini-clad
beauties waited. It was kinda crowded in there with the
three of us, but somehow we managed. More correctly, they
managed. I didn't manage, I was managed.
Our next stop—and I surmised it was the final stop of the
evening—was an expansive bedroom. (I learned later it was
Kelly's bedroom.) The decor was, of course, Arts &
Crafts, and the bed was gigantic, with four heavy posts, a
canopy, and a very pretty comforter in a floral pattern.
Also... waiting in center of the room and facing the bed was a
in question was comprised of the following elements:
That's right, Logan was
naked, chair-tied, and gagged! Her hair was pulled back
and tied with what I'm pretty sure was the same periwinkle-blue
hair ribbon from the Sweet Gwendoline costume I'd worn earlier.
- Logan (sans bikini
or any other clothing);
- A heavy wooden
straight-back chair (in the Arts & Crafts style);
- Several yards of
conditioned hemp rope;
- The stainless
steel obedience collar I'd seen Kelly wear earlier down on
the S2 and S1 levels;
- Some sort of
- A single wide
strip of Elastoplast medical tape.
As for the rigging details...
Logan's wrists, forearms, and upper arms were lashed to the
outside rails of the chair-back by neat, wide bands of cinched
rope. More rope yoked her shoulders and horizontal cinched
bands lashed her torso to the chair-back, passing above and
below her breasts and around her waist. More rope lashed
her ankles and lower thighs to the chair's legs and seat,
leaving her sitting in the chair in a very unladylike
pose. That's right! Her red pubic bush and pussy
were on full display! Finally, a band of taut hemp crossed
her upper thighs and passed under the chair-seat. All the
ropes were tight enough to dimple her flesh, just a little, and
there were no knots (key or otherwise) anywhere near her fingers
As for the gag, the rubber ball of the ball-gag (I assume it was
rubber) was crammed in her mouth and its strap buckled at the
nape of her neck under her ponytail and the big bouncy
periwinkle-blue bow of the hair ribbon. However, since
most of her lower face was covered by the taut strip of
Elastoplast, I couldn't really gauge the ball-gag's...
gauge? Do ball-gags have gauges? What I mean is, I
couldn't tell if the diameter of the mouth-plug was 1½" or 1¾",
but I'm pretty sure it wasn't 2". And I really liked the
way the Elastoplast let me appreciate the three-dimensional
shape of Logan's lips and the curve of the protruding ball.
And then there was also the steel obedience-collar-choker, ready
to zap her if she even tried to mewl through the ball and tape
So, yes, Logan was gagged.
I padded forward and made a slow circuit of Logan and the
chair. She turned her head and watched me check out her
naked body, the chair, the ropes, and her gag(s). Her
expression was surprisingly neutral. I suspect that in her
place I would have been glowering, staring daggers, bristling
with Righteous Outrage, etc., but all Logan did was return my
gaze when our eyes met (and I wasn't busy ogling her rope-framed
and slightly squeezed boobs).
Anyway, I was impressed. Gabby (I assume it was Gabby) had
done a masterful (mistressful?) job of binding my best friend
and bungalow-mate to the chair. Logan was utterly helpless
and very well gagged. She wouldn't be uttering
"Good job," I said in a near whisper as Logan and I locked eyes.
"Excuse me?" Kelly purred.
"I said good job," I replied in a louder voice, then turned and
focused on The Sisters... and my eyes popped wide. "Oh!"
While I'd been busy checking out Logan, The Sisters had padded
to the bed and removed their bikinis. That's right, Kelly
and Gabby were no longer 95% naked, but 100%
naked! They'd also taken down their hair, leaving a modest
pile of bobby pins on each of the bed's two nightstands.
Gabby pulled down the comforter, light blanket, and top sheet
while Kelly padded to my side, draped an arm across my
shoulders, and led me to the bed.
I looked back at Logan over my shoulder, confirming that my best
friend was still there (which she was). My eyes were still
wide, but Logan's gagged expression was still, uh,
"W-what are we gonna... Oh... Oh!" Gabby had
climbed into bed and scooted over to the far side, and now was
reaching out and helping her big sister "encourage" me to also
slide between the cool, smooth, zillion-thread-count cotton
I fought like the proverbial angry tigress! Actually, I
squirmed like a reluctant kitten. The Sisters succeeded in
making me the filling in yet another Gabby/Kelly
sandwich, and without great difficulty. "Nooo!" I whined.
My heart was pounding and I was blushing and blinking. I
don't know what I thought was gonna happen once I
realized I'd been taken to a gigantic bedroom with a gigantic
bed by The Sisters, but for some reason, I was flustered.
Maybe my mental/emotional train had been derailed by the sudden
appearance of a naked, chair-tied, double-gagged, and
obedience-collared Logan, but now I was flustered. Really
flustered. Also, now that we were in bed, The Sisters'
hands were gliding over my naked, rubber-wrist-cuffed body, and
their bodies were intimately close!
I decided to communicate a negative reaction and register a
reasonable request for all erotic activities to cease and desist
forthwith, but was prevented from doing so by the sudden arrival
of Kelly's lips and tongue!
"Hush," Gabby purred. Her sister was still probing my
tonsils with her tongue. Yes, I was being kiss-gagged!
(Is "kiss-gag" a thing?) Anyway...
The Sisters continued fondling my boobs, licking and kissing
various parts of my upper anatomy, bumping and sliding their
hips against my hips, and using their feet, legs, and thighs to
keep my feet, legs, and thighs under control.
I struggled and fought, but I was bound and helpless,
right? The only thing I could do was meet kiss with
counter-kiss, lick with counter-lick, and squirm with
counter-squirm. Unfortunately, with my hands behind my
back, I couldn't counter-fondle, but it wasn't from lack of
trying. Seriously, I tried to
counter-fondle! My fingers awkwardly fluttered and
groped! I had the honor of naked damsels everywhere to
At some point, The Sisters had moved from making out and breast
fondling to inner thigh and labia massaging and teasing! I
was outraged! I redoubled my counter-kissing,
licking, and squirming! I was horny as hell! Then,
The Sisters redoubled their efforts to have their wicked way(s)
with my helpless body!
Unfortunately, I lost (and won) the First Battle of the
Bed. That is... I quivered in orgasm for a modest
eternity... cumming like the proverbial bunny!
I ask you. What else could I do?
Panting and sweating (a little), and with The Sisters now
playfully kissing my neck, shoulders, and erect nipples, I
looked down my naked, flushed, and sweating (a little) body and
found I had a perfect view of Logan. (Logan from the lap
up, anyway.) The distance was now a little greater than
before, but her expression was still neutral and/or
unreadable. I did notice, however, that her chest and
boobs were heaving (a little), although she wasn't panting like
Now, The Sisters were resting their heads on my shoulders, but
their hands continued slowly caressing my tummy and boobs.
They were letting me recover.
I returned to gazing at my naked, chair-bound, double-gagged,
and obedience-collared bungalow-mate. Seconds passed
by. Poor Logan.
"You're punishing her by making her watch," I said quietly.
Kelly kissed the left side of my neck. "I wouldn't say
'punish,' exactly," she purred, "but yes, we're making her
Gabby kissed my lips. "She has no choice but to
watch. Isn't it wicked?"
"Wicked," Kelly purred.
They had a point, but I wasn't about to agree with them.
It would set a bad precedent.
"It's mean," I countered.
"Mean?" Kelly responded. "You mean as in tying a person
down and involuntarily moisturizing their naked body?"
"Now that would be mean," Gabby chuckled.
I blushed bright crimson, just short of spontaneous
combustion. Obviously, Logan had given her employers a
full briefing on all recent bungalow shenanigans. Lo-gan!
How could you?
"Don't worry, darling," Kelly said quietly. "This is as
'mean' as things are going to get this evening."
I blinked and continued gazing at Logan. "You mean we're
going to sleep? With Logan like that?" My blinking
intensified. "Wait. What do you mean 'this
evening?' Does that mean things are gonna be mean tomorrow?"
"Let's see now," Gabby chuckled. "No... yes... we'll
see... and yes. Did I get that right?"
"I believe so," Kelly chuckled, then The Sisters reached over my
naked, sweaty, bound, semi-flustered, and post-orgasmic body and
executed a "high five."
"W-what?" I whined.
"Tomorrow we're going to demonstrate some of our more advanced
games," Kelly explained.
"Games that could definitely be categorized as 'mean'
by any reasonable damsel or mistress," Gabby amplified.
I blinked in intellectual consternation (and terror).
"Don't worry, Honey Bun," Kelly chuckled.
"Honey Bun?" Gabby inquired.
"Quiet," Kelly purred, then kissed my forehead. "Nothing
terribly 'mean' is going to happen to you, Annie.
Tonight, Red gets to watch. Tomorrow, you'll get
"W-watch what?" I squeaked.
"That would be telling," Gabby purred.
I focused my frantic blinking on Logan. "Don't be mean to
Kelly kissed my neck, again, then whispered in my ear.
"There's mean... and there's mean, Annie. We're
only going to be mean."
I found this confusing and not at all reassuring. I opened
my mouth to request clarification, but Gabby took the occasion
to lift the baby-blue rubber ball of my ball-gag-necklace and
pop it in my mouth! "Mrrrk!" Then, The Sisters
worked in concert to buckle the ball-gag's strap at the nape of
my neck. Now there were two naked, bound, and ball-gagged
damsels in the bedroom... and two naked but neither bound nor
And then, adding an element of finality to my enforced
near-silence, Gabby leaned towards the bedside table on the
right side of the bed, opened a drawer, and pulled out a cute
little heart-shaped padlock. It really was cute,
arguably precious, but it was a padlock!
"Mrrrf!" I whined, but couldn't prevent Kelly from holding my
head steady or Gabby from clicking the padlock through the hole
thingie in the tongue of the ball-gag's buckle! That's
right! She padlocked my ball-gag! I was
Then, both sisters planted simultaneous kisses on my cheeks (my
"I think she's ready," Gabby said, continuing to kiss my face
and neck. She also resumed gliding her hands over my naked
"I agree," Kelly agreed. "Round Two, Annie," she added,
then joined her sister in kissing and fondling my squirming
"Mrrrmpfh!" I complained (whined), but was helpless and gagged
and rubber-wrist-bound and unable to speak, and... all that
Round Two was followed by a rest interval... then Round
Three! At some point Gabby (I think it was Gabby) produced
a torpedo-style vibrator and unleashed the technological terror
on my blushing, sweaty, flustered self! That was an
escalation, to be sure, but I can't really say it was "mean."
Anyway, after Round Three came another rest period, but I don't
know if anything happened after that. I closed my eyes to
give them a rest... and was out for the night.
And poor Logan had no choice but to sit in her chair and watch
the entire drama unfold! She had no choice but to squirm,
wiggle, languish, and watch as her naked employers used their
lips, tongues, hands, various other parts of their anatomies,
and at least one vibrator to pin my naked, bound, and gagged
body to the bed and have their wicked ways with me! Three
times! (Three for everything but the vibrator,
anyway. I'm not actually sure when it was introduced.)
O the horror! The horror!
I awakened the
next morning to find myself alone in the giant bed. The
Sisters were absent. I was still naked,
rubber-wrist-bound, and ball-gagged. I blinked a few
times, lifted my gagged head and shook most of my blond locks
from my face, and only then discovered that Logan was still
present and still naked, lashed to her chair,
double-gagged, and obedience-collared. She was also awake.
I watched as my bungalow-mate gave her bound body a weak squirm,
then nodded her gagged head in my direction. Obviously,
she wanted out of the chair, but I wasn't sure what she expected
me to do about it. Logan rolled her eyes, repeated her
look-how-helpless-I-am demonstration, then nodded at me, again.
Okay, okay, I can take a hint. It wouldn't be easy, being
naked, neoprene-cuffed, and ball-gagged, but I could try.
I extricated myself from the bed's tangled covers, padded to
Logan and the chair, and made a slow circuit of my helpless
friend. I was able to diagnose the locations of the key
knots without any trouble, and by "key" I mean the knots I would
have to untie before I could attack the rest of the hitches,
cinches, and... sub-knots? Is sub-knots a thing?
Intermediate knots? Anyway, with my wrists neoprene-cuffed
behind my back, untying Logan was going to be a long, laborious,
supremely awkward process.
While I contemplated the task at hand, Logan nodded at me again
and fluttered the fingers of her closest hand. (You'll
remember, of course, that Logan's arms were at her sides with
her wrists, lower, and upper arms lashed to the side-rails of
Logan rolled her eyes and slowly, carefully used her index
finger to point in my direction... closed her fist... then
extended her index finger again. There was a
pause... Then, she used the finger to point at herself...
closed her fist again... then flexed all five fingers several
Logan rolled her eyes again, then repeated the entire
finger-waving and fist-clenching "signal."
What was she trying to tell me? It was something like:
"You, one. Me, many." I frowned, then rolled my
eyes. Of course. My wrists were secured by a
single buckle, whereas Logan's bonds required the untying of
several knots, not to mention the unraveling of several yards of
intricately cinched rope. Duh! I guess I was still
I padded close and held my wrist-bonds as close as I could to
Logan's right hand. Despite her bonds, and with some
effort, she managed to release the neoprene cuff's
snap-buckle... and I was free! I was still ball-gagged, of
course, and until we located the key to the cute little
heart-shaped padlock securing my gag's buckle, all
conversational efforts on my part would be decidedly
inarticulate. I was better off than Logan, of
course. She was ball-gagged and had that
obedience collar to contend with.
I stretched my naked body full-length, going up on my toes,
reaching for the ceiling, and arching my back. Then, I
rubbed my wrists (although they didn't really need it) and set
to work freeing Logan-the-Red. In no time at all (meaning
about fifteen minutes), the last knot was untied, the final loop
of rope loosened and pulled away, and it was Logan's
turn to stand (stiffly), stretch, and rub her wrists.
I placed my left hand on Logan's shoulder, then used my right to
carefully, gently peel the Elastoplast from Logan's lower
face. The strip surrendered its adhesive grip with great
reluctance, stretching her coral lips and the pale skin of her
face. This revealed the silicon rubber ball strapped in
her mouth. The sphere appeared to be identical to my mouth
plug in diameter (1¾"), but whereas my mouth-plug was baby-blue
(to match my now missing Sweet Gwendoline costume), Logan's was
pastel-green (no doubt to complement her ginger hair).
I turned Logan around and parted her hair to release the buckle
of her ball-gag's strap, and discovered we had something else
in common. The buckle of Logan's ball-gag was secured
with another cute little heart-shaped padlock.
Now we had matching incentives to locate the missing key or
I took a step back and visually examined my bungalow-mate's pale
body. Rope-marks. Logan had lots of
rope-marks, but I couldn't see any rope-burns or bruises.
With time, I decided, her pale, smooth skin would be back to
Logan gazed back at me and I noticed her green eyes were...
I blinked my brown eyes a couple of times, then realized the
There was only one remedy.
I padded forward and pulled my best friend into a fierce hug and
held on tight... and after a couple of seconds she hugged me
Did I forgive Logan for being a foxy (and possibly ratty)
trickster and luring me into our current horrible, insidious, wonderful
circumstances? Yes. As a matter of fact, I did.
"Mrrr," I purred softly. Now, my ball-gagged head was
resting on Logan's left shoulder and Logan's ball-gagged head
was resting on mine. Our arms were around each
other with our boobs, tummies, and thighs pressed nakedly
together. Of course, poor Logan was unable to purr or mewl
or otherwise verbally express the vast relief and limitless
gratitude she had to be feeling in the face of my
merciful munificence. She was still wearing the
Serves her right.