by Van ©2022
		Chapter 4

As it turned out, the "secure reading room" was not downstairs in Peyton Frazier's fake dungeon, for which Lori was eternally grateful, but was on the main floor of the maze-like mansion.  The space was severely Modern, square (approximately 30' on a side) and with good lighting built into the ceiling.  Anyway, the only furnishings were a large, sturdy table covered with green felt and a comfortable chair designed for sitting up straight, leaning forward, and reading, not for lounging.  The room was temperature and humidity controlled, as proclaimed by a prominent thermostat with an iPad-sized screen mounted next to the door.  At least, Lori assumed it was a thermostat, as it was currently displaying the messages "68° F" and "40% H".  This was a proper environment for the preservation of antique and valuable books, so Lori approved.  And speaking of books, a quite large and apparently ancient tome rested on the table, cradled in a well-padded stand shaped like a shallow "M".  Such stands are designed to put minimal stress on a binding's spine when the book was open.  Also resting on the table were a pair of white cotton gloves and a large magnifying glass.  Again, Lori approved.

What Lori did not approve of was her treatment at the hands of her "hostess" before being allowed to settle into the chair, pull on the gloves, and begin her examination.

After the late-lunch/early-tea in the two-person dining room, Peyton had unbuckled the leather collar of Lori's arm-binder system, lifted the steel collar from the serving cart, and locked it around her neck using a tiny "L"-shaped tool, which Lori considered both rude and uncalled for.  She'd complained, of course, but didn't offer any physical resistance to the collaring process.  The possible punishment of Heidi remained very much on her mind.  In any case, Peyton ignored Lori's negative reaction to being collared in quite obviously inauthentic Medieval steel.

Lori continued complaining (and continued being ignored) as Peyton led her through the mansion to the reading room.  The unbuckled leather collar of her arm-binder ensemble dangled and flopped against her breasts as she padded along.  It was most untidy.  And as it was obvious that her polite but emphatic complaints were not going to be addressed, she shifted her demeanor to grumpy silence and watched (in a querulous manner) as Peyton unlocked the Reading Room's sturdy steel door and led her inside.  Then, she padlocked the ring dangling from Lori's collar to the terminal ring of a steel chain dangling from the ceiling at roughly head height and in the center of the room.  The chain was short.  In fact, Lori had no choice but to stand tall immediately behind the chair, the table, and its contents.  At least her bare feet were flat on the carpet, which was a definite plus.  Finally, Peyton unbuckled and removed the remainder of the leather upper-body restraint system, freeing Lori's arms and hands.

So... Lori was "dressed" in the same embarrassingly gauze-thin nightie she'd been wearing all day, her ankles were locked in hobbling steel shackles, and now, thanks to the semi-taut chain, was standing in the reading room and unable to sit (or read).  She stared at Peyton with a petulant pout, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.  If she knew Heidi was someplace safe, she would have been perfectly willing to do actual violence to her smug kidnapper, but Heidi wasn't someplace safe.  Also, her smug kidnapper was standing (and gloating) several inches beyond the hypothetical swing of her arms.  Anyway, as things currently stood, meaning as Lori currently stood, she wasn't able to examine the book, use her expertise, and earn their freedom.  Lori waited (impatiently) for Peyton to finish smiling her arguably winsome but unarguably irritating lopsided grin, and move things along.

Pwyton gloated for several infuriating seconds... then turned, strolled to the door, pressed her right thumb against a small square button on the thermostat's brushed steel frame... and the large message "UNLOCKED" flashed on the screen, replacing the indoor weather report.  The screen cleared again and text arranged in what was obviously a menu appeared.  Unfortunately, the distance was too great and the characters too small for Lori to read anything.  Peyton tapped and flicked the screen and menu followed menu... until finally a melodic chime sounded in the ceiling directly over Lori's head—Ping!—followed by the hum of a motor as additional links of her collar-chain slowly emerged from the steel-lined hole in the ceiling.  Links continued playing out... until the chain rested on the floor and began to pool.  Then, the motor stopped.  Lori estimated she could now easily sit in the chair, with plenty of slack to spare, but would be unable to get close to the reading room door.

Meanwhile, the screen had returned to its original climate report: "68° F" and "40% H".

"Well," Peyton said as she opened the steel door and strode through, "have yourself a nice read."

"Wait!" Lori called.

Peyton paused in the threshold and smiled.  "Yes?"

"I assume you've had the usual laboratory tests conducted," Lori stated.  "I need to see the reports.  Also, I require a laptop or some other means of taking notes."

Peyton's smile widened.  "And for sending e-mail to the cops, of course.  I've prepared a tablet for your use, with restricted access to my intranet, but I'll give it to you later.  Today, I want you to just read.  I'm betting you'll get as excited about this material as I am."  She wiggled her fingers in a truly infuriating wave—"Tootles!"—as she pulled the door closed with her other hand.
 
Lori heard a hollow thunk, no doubt the sound of the bolt of the door's hefty lock sliding home... and she was alone.  She heaved a sigh, then pulled back the chair, settled into the comfortably padded seat, and pulled on the cotton gloves.  Even if the tome before her was a fake, she had to follow standard practices and take the usual precautions.  Contaminating the parchment with her body oils might cause problems for future forensic tests.

She began with a gross visual, tactile, and olfactory examination.  Technique-wise, the binding appeared to be genuine, similar to books she'd examined of the same supposed period.  She'd leave it to specialists to scrutinize the stitching and composition of the thread, leather, and the cover's internal boards.  Next, she carefully lifted the front cover and opened the book.  The leaves were parchment, meaning animal skin, probably sheepskin, and not "parchment grade" paper.  There was very little insect damage, and by its appearance, the slightly faded ink appeared to be genuine.  There was no illumination, gold leaf and painted and inked drawings of human, animals, plants, or other decorative elements, but this was to be expected with a tome that was supposedly a secular history.  Artistic embellishment was generally reserved for sacred texts and had been a form of worship.

The text was Old English.  Many living scholars are fluent in Old English (to varying degrees), but Lori was a recognized authority on the known regional dialects of Old English (Mercian, Northumbrian, Kentish, and West Saxon), as well as the Old West and Old East Norse dialects of Britain and Ireland's Viking settlers/invaders.  She read the first lines, with an eye for inconsistencies... then continued reading.  By the time she was ready to turn the page... her heart was racing.  If this thing was counterfeit, she very much wanted to meet the counterfeiter.

Lori continued reading.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z z z ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tweak!

Ow!  Heidi came instantly awake!  Something or someone had just pinched her left nipple!  "Mrrrmpfh!" she complained, and who wouldn't?  She also opened her eyes and squirmed in her bonds.

The perpetrator of the nipple tweaking outrage was Kassidy the psychopathic kidnapper, of course.  The evil brunette was sitting on the bed, still dressed in her sinister black jeans and tank-top, and she was smiling her usual sinister, gloating, cold, reptilian smile.  Also, by the weak, indirect light coming from the bedroom's picture window, it was either very late in the afternoon or very early evening.  The sun had nearly finished setting.

Heidi was lying on the bed (meaning still lying on the bed)—naked—ball-gagged—her upper body helpless in a box-tie of rope—her ankles, feet and big-toes tied together with more rope—and tethered to the bed by her foot-bonds below and her braided, folded, and lashed together hair, above.  She stared lethal daggers at her captor in reaction to her outrageously rude wake-up-call.

"Oh good, you're awake," Kassidy purred, continuing to smile as she gave Heidi's left breast a gentle squeeze.  "I'm going to untie your feet and hair and take you to the Little Damsel's Room so you can take a tinkle," she stated, still clutching Heidi's compressed breast.  Then, she nodded to the side.  "Do you see the pile of rope on that chair?"

Heidi's glanced at the neat coils of rope piled on the chair in question.  They were her former leg and miscellaneous other bonds Kassidy had removed when she was first brought to her current location, meaning dungeon, meaning luxurious Modern bedroom complete with attached bath.  She returned her glowering gaze to Kassidy.

"If you try kicking or running or give me any sort of trouble," Kassidy continued.  "You'll spend the night in the back of my closet tied up so tight you won't be able to twitch.  Understand?"

Heidi continued glaring for several seconds (to uphold the honor of naked, bound, and gagged damsels everywhere), then nodded.

"That's my Sweetcakes," Kassidy chuckled, then set to work.

In no time at all, Heidi's bonds were untied, with the notable exception of the box-tie still binding her folded arms behind her back, pinning her upper-arms to her sides, and yoking her shoulders.  She was bondage-free from the waist down, and her hair was free as well, if you didn't count the singe-braid or the three or four inches of hemp cord at the end, enforcing the braid.  Still naked?  Yes, but she was now theoretically able to kick her kidnapper where it would do the most good and/or run for the hills as swift as the proverbial gazelle—not that she was stupid enough to try either thing.  She'd been warned, and had no desire whatsoever to learn firsthand the no doubt highly constrictive details of being tied up so tight she couldn't twitch in the back of Kassidy's closet.  Also, she had to rescue Doc, and making futile gestures and getting punished for them wouldn't further their cause.

And oh by the way, the ball-gag was still plugging her grimacing mouth and buckled tight at the nape of her neck, under her hanging braid.  That meant Heidi was unable to share her opinion of sadistic, rope-happy morons who thought it was cute to label people with disgustingly nauseating nicknames like " Sweetcakes".

Kassidy "helped" Heidi off the bed and to her feet, then led her to the bathroom for the aforementioned tinkle.  Heidi did, meaning tinkled, and found it much easier than the last time, when her legs had been tightly lashed together from thighs to toes.  That meant having her crotch scrubbed by her captor with a sopping wet washcloth was unnecessary, but Kassidy did it anyway.  As before, the experience was cold and humiliating, with water dripping down her legs.  Bitch!

Then, it was back to the main bedroom and back down onto the bed.  An altogether uncalled for shove was involved, followed by mattress-bouncing.  Then, before Heidi could do more than register an indignant "Mrrrfh!" Kassidy seized Heidi's ankles and lashed them together in the crossed position, as opposed to side-by-side as before.  That meant Heidi would be staying on the bed, unless she wanted to roll and squirm on the floor.  Hopping while standing on one foot would be iffy, if not out of the question.  The bind also restricted Heidi's ability to close her legs, which was suddenly relevant because she noticed the way Kassidy was staring (leering) at her crotch!

Kassidy continued leering, now including all of her captive's helpless body in her gaze... then she turned to the bedroom door.  "Wait here," the grinning villainess ordered (quipped), strolled to the door, opened it, wheeled a serving cart from the hallway and into the bedroom, closed the door behind her, then wheeled the cart to the bed.

It was obvious the cart's contents were all food related: a large ceramic serving bowl with a matching lid, a generous mug/soup-bowl, a ladle, a soup spoon, a moisture-beaded bottle of Moose Drool Brown Ale (from the Big Sky Brewing Company), and a basket of crispy rolls nestled in a linen-lined basket.  And as Heidi was currently behind at least three meals, she was interested.  Then... a meaty, savory aroma reached her flaring nostrils—Yum!—and she became very interested and dialed back her ball-gagged-glower to a slightly peeved, ball-gagged-pout.

"Sit up," Kassidy ordered.

Heidi executed a leg-lift, spun on her butt until her cross-tied ankles and most of her legs were off the edge of the mattress, then executed a crunch, following her kidnapper's orders.  Kassidy then sat down on the bed next to her.  Their thighs were touching and the cart was right in front of them.  Kassidy then reached behind Heidi's head, lifted her braid, unbuckled the ball-gag, and re-secured the buckle on the strap's first hole.  Then, smiling her cold smile, Kassidy lifted the lid from the large bowl, revealing a generous quantity of what was almost certainly beef stew, with bite-size chunks of meat, baby carrots, chopped onion, sliced celery, and thick brown gravy!  She lifted the ladle and filled the mug/soup-bowl with a generous portion.

Heidi's stomach let loose an enthusiastic growl, and the saliva already escaping around her ball-gag and dripping down her chin increased.  She pushed with her tongue and the well-lubricated ball-gag-ball emerged and fell from her wet mouth, fell, and bounced against her chest.  Heidi stared at the mug in Kassidy's hand and licked her lips.

"Here ya go, Sweetcakes," Kassidy purred, and carefully delivered a spoonful of stew to Heidi's open mouth.

"Mmmm!" Heidi exclaimed as she chewed, chewed, and finally swallowed.  She couldn't help herself.  It was the best beef stew she'd ever eaten, by a wide margin.  The meat was soft, flaky, and practically dissolved in her mouth.  The accompanying veggies were soft but not mushy, and the gravy was savory and delicious!  Best.  Stew.  Ever!  Heidi realized her hunger had a lot to do with her enthusiasm, but didn't care.

The meal continued, with spoonfuls of stew punctuated by the occasional swig of Moose Drool or bite of roll.  The mug was soon depleted, Kassidy gave it a refill, and Heidi continued eating—meaning allowed herself to be fed.  Was it humiliating being spoon fed like she was an overgrown toddler?  Yes, but who the hell cared!  Best.  Stew.  Ever!

Finally, Heidi emptied the second mug/bowlful of stew, devoured the last of her second roll, emptied the bottle of Moose Drool, and the meal was over.  She watched as Kassidy returned the dirty mug/bowl to the tray, along with the spoon, of course.  "Thank you," Heidi huffed.  She might as well be polite.  Maybe her kidnapper would go easier on her.  Maybe, but she realized it was a long shot.

Kassidy turned back to the bed, abruptly popped the ball-gag back into Heidi's startled mouth—"Mrrrf!"—tightened the strap until her cheeks bulged—"Mrk!—gave Heidi a shove so she landed on her back on the bed—"MRRRF!—flipped her onto her stomach, lifted her cross-bound ankles, and folded her legs back until Heidi's heels were pressed against her buttocks—"Nrrrm!—then produced a length of rope and used it to lash Heidi's ankles to the nexus of her box-tie, leaving her stringently hogtied.

"Mrrrmpfh!" Heidi complained, squirming in her bonds on the rumpled bed.  So much for being polite.  She rolled onto her side and stared daggers at her gloating kidnapper.  Bitch!

Kassidy smiled/gloated for several seconds... then pushed the cart towards the bedroom door.  "Well, I gotta clean things up, Sweetcakes.  Take a nap," she chuckled as she made her exit, closing and locking the bedroom door behind her.  Click!

Heidi heaved a gagged sigh, then went limp in her bonds.  At least I'm not hungry anymore, she mused.

Lori and Peyton enjoyed an evening meal of beef stew, rolls, and a brown ale with the amusing moniker of "Moose Drool."  Lori had no choice but to concede that the food had been delicious and the dinner conversation stimulating.  Not enjoyable or companionable by any means, but stimulating—cold, clinical, scholarly, and stimulating, at least on Lori's part.

Lori had made it halfway through the massive tome back in the secure reading room before being "invited" to dinner.  Her first impression remained.  If the work in question was a fake, it was a truly outstanding fake.  Still inadequately dressed in her gauze-thin nightie, her ankles hobbled with cold steel and the similar steel collar still secured around her neck, Lori had sat in a comfortable dining chair across from her sundress-clad hostess/kidnapper and enjoyed the meal.

"I'll need copies of high-resolution photographs of Toland of Consett's letters from the British Museum," Lori stated at one point.

"Why?" Peyton inquired.

"Comparison, of course.  Standard, accepted spelling of names and places is a fairly recent innovation," Lori explained, "and often varied from author to author and time to time."

Peyton smiled.  "You want to see if Toland is consistent."

"Precisely."

Peyton took a final swig of beer.  "No problem.  I can get you copies in a day or two.  Stand."

Apparently, the meal was over.  It was just as well.  Lori had already finished her beer.  She stood, as did her hostess/kidnapper, then Peyton stepped behind her, crossed her hands behind her back, and quickly tied them together with a length of braided nylon cord.  Lori stared at the theoretical horizon, her expression neutral.  As the cord tightened and was cinched and snugged tight, Lori heaved a quiet sigh.  Once again she was essentially helpless... ankles hobbled, neck collared, and wrists tied behind her back.  Peyton took hold of her right arm and led her away.

Their destination was a spacious, luxurious, and Modern bedroom.  One entire wall was nothing but closed drapes.  Lori assumed they were covering an expanse of windows.  Peyton led Lori into the attached bathroom (also spacious, luxurious, and Modern) and helped her conduct her evening toilette.  This required the washing of Lori's face with a warm, wet washcloth and the application of some sort of moisturizer, followed by the brushing of her teeth, all of which was conducted by Peyton, of course.  That wasn't too bad, but then Peyton lifted the hem of Lori's nightie, plunked her down on the commode, and encouraged her to relieve herself.  Needless to say, such intimacy was both improper and embarrassing, but given the circumstances, it was also necessary.  Lori emptied her bladder and endured the cleanup that followed.  She also blushed.

Finally ready for bed, Lori was led back to the main bedroom and towards the king-size bed.  It was of the platform variety, and she watched as Peyton pulled back the covers.  Then, at Peyton's command, Lori sat, rolled onto her side, lifted her chain-hobbled feet, and tucked her legs between the sheets.  Next, she watched (sullenly) as Peyton lifted the end of a steel chain and padlocked it to the ring on the front of her collar.  The chain snaked off the head of the bed.  Logically it was connected to something solid, but whatever that might be was out of sight.  In any case, Lori might be tethered to the bed, but she had plenty of slack.

Peyton smiled down at her prisoner.

Lori stared up at her captor.  "Untie my wrists," she requested (demanded).

Still smiling, Peyton shook her head.  "Not tonight."

"Untie my wrists, please?" Lori ventured.

Peyton laughed, then spun on her heels and strolled to a closed door.  She opened it, revealing what Lori could see was a walk-in closet, and entered.

Lori tested her wrist bindings.  The cord might was well be steel, like her collar and shackles.  Her groping fingers encountered nothing even vaguely resembling a knot.  In fact, with her wrists rigidly crossed as they were, she could barely brush the cord strands with her fingertips.

And then, Peyton returned.  Her pretty sundress was gone, replaced by... nothing.

Despite the sedentary nature of her scholarly pursuits, Lori prided herself in her trim figure.  She made it a habit to budget the time required for running and exercise in the faculty health club, to keep herself in shape.  Apparently, Peyton-the-grinning-kidnapper also found the time to maintain a healthy physique.  The redhead's body was slender, her muscles well-defined, and her skin smooth, firm, and host to countless freckles.  There were no tan-lines.

Lori watched as Payton padded to the bathroom and entered.  Water splashed, time passed... then the commode flushed.  Lori's wrists remained crossed and bound.  Finally, Peyton emerged from the bathroom and padded towards the bed, smiling her trademark lopsided grin.

"I-I thought this was my bedroom," Lori sputtered.

"No, Professor," Peyton purred.  "This is my bedroom."  She climbed under the covers next to her prisoner and rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her right elbow and resting her grinning head on her right hand.  "Think of this as a sleepover."

"This is most improper," Lori huffed.

"Lighten up, Lori," Peyton chuckled.  "I want us to be friends.  Have you ever done it with a women?"

Lori's only answer was a sullen pout.  (And her heart was pounding.)

"Well, not tonight."  Peyton heaved a deep yawn, covering her mouth with one hand—"Eyawhhh!"—then turned away, reached out and tapped the screen of a small remote resting on the bedside table, and the lights slowly dimmed... and finally winked out.  Now, the only light was coming from blue-green nightlights somewhere near the floor on either side of the bed.  Peyton then turned back, fully reclined, and planted a kiss on Lori's startled lips.  "Goodnight," she purred.

"G-goodnight," Lori responded, then squirmed and tugged on her wrist-bonds, once again.  "Wait!  Please, untie me.  I won't be able to sleep like this."

"Yes you will," Peyton purred, "and this way you won't be able to pull a 'Princess Leia' on me once I'm asleep."

"Excuse me?"

"You won't be able to strangle me with your chain," Peyton clarified.  "And even if you did strangle me, you'd still be chained to the bed.  And just imagine what Kassidy would do to poor Heidi once she discovered you've offed her meal ticket and ruined her retirement plan.  Now, go to sleep."

Lori stared into the darkness, heaved a sigh, and squirmed for comfort.  Well, she thought, needs must when the devil drives.  She then closed her eyes and tried her best to sleep.

Heidi lay on the bed in hogtied, ball-gagged, naked misery.  Kassidy had ordered her to "take a nap," but in an act of open defiance, she'd decided to doze off instead.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z z z ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Slap!

"Mrrrf!"  Ow!  Kassidy had returned, and had roused Heidi from her relaxing (not) and rejuvenating (not) slumber with a businesslike slap on what little was available of the hogtied captive's left butt-cheek.  Bitch! Heidi silently accused, then her eyes widened.  Speaking of butt-cheeks, Kassidy was bare-ass naked!  That is, at some point after returning the the bedroom from her professed cleanup mission and before her totally unnecessary and uncalled for butt-slap—Bitch!—Kassidy had misplaced her clothes!  She was a nude!  Heidi's butt-slapping kidnapper was wearing her birthday suit!

"Good girl," Kassidy purred as she untied the rope enforcing Heidi's hogtie.

Ow!  Heidi straightened her legs, rolled onto her side, and stared up at Kassidy... and her boobs... and washboard abs... and dark, curly, pubic bush... and firm, strong thighs.  She continued staring as Kassidy executed a full-body stretch, reaching for the ceiling and yawning... then climbed onto bed, reclined next to her prisoner, meaning Heidi—poor, naked, ankle-bound, box-tied, and ball-gagged Heidi—then pulled the covers over both of them!  Apparently (meaning obviously) she intended for the two of them to share the sleeping arrangements!

Heidi was not okay with the situation.  "Mrrrmpfh!" she complained.

"What?" Kassidy chuckled.  "You'd rather sleep on the floor?"  Kassidy covered her mouth as she took another deep yawn.  "Eyowhhh!  Or maybe you need to take another leak?"

Heidi did not want to sleep on the floor.  Nor did she need to take a leak... but now that she thought about it, maybe she did.  She nodded towards the bathroom door.  "Mrrrm,"

Kassidy rolled her eyes (but was still smiling), then threw back the covers, sat up, grabbed Heidi'a legs, and half-spun her on her butt until the captive's ankles were within easy range, then untied Heidi's crossed-ankle-bonds.  And then, she gave Heidi a shove and she fell off the bed!

"Mrrrf!"  Bitch!  Naked, box-tied, and ball-gagged, Heidi, scrambled to her feet and glared at her captor.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Kassidy demanded, then smiled and nodded at the bathroom door.  "Go!"

Heidi shook her tousled hair out of her ball-gagged face (with limited success), then turned and stomped (padded) to the bathroom.  She managed to open the door (awkwardly, thanks to the impediment of the box-tie), then entered the bathroom.  She also managed to sit on the commode, spread her legs wide, and accomplish her mission without further difficulty.  She then flushed the toilet (awkwardly) returned to the main bedroom, stomped (padded) to the bed, sat on the mattress, and reclined (awkwardly) more-or-less in her former position.

"Now," Kassidy huffed as she pulled the covers over them as before, "go to sleep."

Heidi heaved a sigh, then closed her eyes.  She felt Kassidy roll away on the bed, and the lights winked out.  Kassidy rolled back... then was still.

Well, at least she's keeping her hands to herself, Heidi thought, and heaved another carefully quiet sigh.  Seconds passed.  Then—blink, blink!—Heidi stared at the dark ceiling.  She forgot to tie my ankles!  It was true!  Heidi was rope free from the waist down!

This was an opportunity... maybe.

Heidi waited.  She had to be absolutely sure her kidnapping, rope-happy, butt-slapping bed-mate was asleep... as in fully asleep... not just dozing off.  There was only one thing to do.

One-one-thousand... two-one-thousand... three-one-thousand...

Heidi continued her slow, deliberate, silent countdown.

Twenty-seven-one-thousand... twenty-eight-one-thousand... twenty-nine-one-thousand...

The was no sign that Kassidy was anything but fast asleep.  Her face was slack in the dim, blue-green light provided by the nightlights near the floor on either side of the bed.

Sixty-three-one-thousand... sixty-four-one-thousand... sixty-five-one-thousand...

Kassidy executed a slight comfort movement.  That is, she half-rolled on her side, facing Heidi, but otherwise remained dead to the world.

Ninety-eight-one-thousand... Ninety-nine-one-thousand... one hundred.

It was time to escape, or give it her best try.  All Heidi had to do was ease herself off the bed, sneak to the bedroom door, silently pull it open (no doubt awkwardly), silently ease it closed (also no doubt awkwardly), then explore the mansion, find Doc, find some clothes, and escape.  Piece of cake!

With glacial speed and ultra-caution... Heidi eased herself out from under the covers and off the bed, stood and stared down at Kassidy for several seconds to confirm that she was, indeed, asleep...  She was... apparently.  Then, slowly and silently, Heidi padded to the bedroom door, managed to ease it open, slid through the gap, then pushed until the door was almost closed.  She didn't want to risk the bolt clicking and waking up her captor.

Heidi was out!  That is, she was in the dark corridor of Peyton's Modern mansion/prison.  So far so good!  She randomly chose a direction—Left—and began her silent, naked, box-tied, and ball-gagged search for Professor Ryder... so she could rescue her.

---

Back in the dark bedroom, Kassidy opened her eyes, grinned, then carefully eased herself out of bed.  She then padded to a cabinet, silently slid open a drawer, selected several of the neatly bundled coils of hemp rope within, added them to the pile of identical coils already on the nearby chair, and silently slid the drawer closed.  She then returned to the bed and retrieved the loose tangle of rope lying on the covers.  It was Heidi's former ankle-bonds, the rope Kassidy had "forgotten" to use to immobilize her prisoner when Heidi returned from her trip to the bathroom.  Still smiling, she carefully looped the rope into a convenient coil, then turned and padded to the bedroom door.

Kassidy waited a few seconds... until she decided Heidi had enough of a head start, then silently opened the door.  It was time to commence the damsel-hunt, and there was nothing Kassidy enjoyed more than a good damsel-hunt, other than punishing a disobedient damsel for trying to escape, of course.