It was the one
week anniversary of Lori and Heidi being abducted and spirited
away to Peyton Frazier's Modern mansion/prison, but neither the
prisoners nor their kidnappers marked the occasion. No
exchange of cards. No cake. No party. It was
In the days since Lori's very memorable several hours in the
gym—with naked bondage and walking on the running machine until
her feet were very sore—Peyton had ordered her to resume
studying Toland of Consett's multi-volume history of the
invasion of England by the Great Heathen Army more-or-less full
time. Ostensibly, Lori's walking ordeal had been to
illustrate the principle of collective punishment, that Lori and
Heidi were now considered responsible for each other's behavior
and would both suffer if either one of them attempted to
escape. It was Heidi who had done the escaping (sort of),
but Lori didn't fault her TA one iota for trying to find a way
out of Peyton's clutches. In fact, she was proud
of her student. Heidi was the one getting the worst of
their predicament. Kassidy, Peyton's enforcer, obviously
enjoyed tormenting them with naked bondage, but Heidi more so
than Lori, and there was nothing Lori could do about it.
Her pleas for leniency for poor Heidi continued to be ignored.
Unfortunately, the prisoners weren't allowed leisure time in
which they could lay back, put their feet up, sip a few drinks,
and compare notes. In fact, Lori had seen her protegé
quite infrequently during the course of the last few days, and
it had always been in passing.
For example, a couple of days ago, naked, dripping with sweat,
overheated, and flushed, her wrists bound behind her back, Lori
was led from the sauna by Peyton, who was also naked, dripping
with sweat, etc., but not bound in any way, subjected to a
chilling (but not unwelcome) shower, then toweled dry and led
away. Supposedly, they were on their way to enjoy a light
lunch on one of the mansion's many outdoor decks overlooking the
surrounding wilderness. They crossed the yoga studio—and
Lori skidded to a halt. "No!" she gasped.
Kassidy was punching and kicking a martial arts dummy, and was
as naked as Lori and Peyton, but also present and also naked was
Heidi, and she was quite obviously not happy.
Lori's student was lying on her side on the padded floor with
her wrists and ankles tied together and to each
other. This necessitated a full crunch into the pike
position on Heidi's part, and the pose was reinforced by an
interlaced web of ropes binding her knees, elbows, lower legs,
forearms, and upper arms, with a tight crotch-rope integrated
into the arrangement. Heidi's brown hair was a tousled
mess, and a perforated ball-gag was strapped in her mouth, tight
enough to make her cheeks bulge.
"Hush," Peyton said, directing the order to Lori. She then
shifted her goofy smile to Kassidy. "She's been bad?"
"Not especially," Kassidy answered between punches. "This
is just a minor attitude adjustment, to remind her who's boss."
"Please!" Lori whined, twisting her bound wrists. "She
can't take much more of this! Can't you see that?"
Heidi's eyes were open but not expressive. Lori could tell
she was in a bad way.
Still smiling, Lori dragged Lori from the room by one arm.
"Kassidy knows what she's doing," the psycho-redhead purred.
"No!" And then they were gone, leaving Heidi still naked,
bound, gagged, and no doubt suffering, and Kassidy still naked
and pummeling the unfortunate dummy.
Most of Lori's daylight hours were spent in the Secure Reading
Room. She was almost to the end of her first reading of
Toland's first volume, and still hadn't been allowed to take
notes; however, she found she couldn't actually fault Peyton's
insistence that she simply read. In-depth study and
analysis could follow. In any case, it didn't
matter. Payton Frazier was calling the shots. All
Lori wasn't always naked. In fact, unless involved in
exercise, Peyton insisted her "Resident Scholar" wear a
faux-medieval sleeveless shift with a plunging, loosely laced
décolletage, a tightly laced bodice, and a ragged hem
that only just came down to her mid thighs. The fabric was
loosely woven cotton, or possibly flax, and was an
off-white/natural color. Fortunately, it was
well-conditioned and comfortable against her skin.
Unfortunately, Peyton would allow neither a bra nor panties to
accompany the dress. The same went for a more "authentic"
bandeau and/or loincloth of similar fabric. And equally
unfortunately, Peyton decreed the continued wearing of the now
ubiquitous iron collar and the restoration of the
matching shackles and hobbling chain. Apparently, she'd
decided Lori should be a Captive Resident Scholar character from
some horrible and only marginally accurate historical costume
drama. It was humiliating, and offended Lori's academic
At night, Peyton insisted that Lori share her bed, and always
after stripping her of her cotton/flax dress and either tying
her to the bed or chaining her collar to the headboard with her
wrists crossed and tied behind her back. Lori found all of
Peyton's arrangements to be not particularly restful,
and she didn't appreciate the casual intimacy inflicted upon her
naked, defenseless body by her hostess/kidnapper.
Thankfully, Peyton didn't inflict involuntary coitus on her
blond prisoner, but there was a lot of non-consensual
touching, in gross violation of accepted social norms.
Peyton Frazier refused to keep her hands to herself!
As for escape... or even the hope of escape... that was entirely
missing. Lori had no idea how long Peyton intended to keep
them her prisoner (or what would be their eventual fate).
Anyway, when the evening of the one-week-anniversary arrived,
Peyton let Kassidy indulge herself at the prisoners'
expense. Maybe it did count as some sort of
The setting was one of the mansion's many lounges or sitting
rooms. Lori and Heidi were naked (of course) and sharing a
comfortable, overstuffed easy chair. It was Modern (of
course), and while easily large enough for two, was not a
loveseat. Heidi was sitting in Lori's lap with their arms
were around each others waists, which meant their breasts were
pressed together. Also, their hands were tied together,
palm-to-palm and behind the others back. Their ankles were
also tied together (with Lori's steel shackles removed).
Taut, doubled ropes linked their bound wrists and their bound
ankles, both their own and their companion's, passed under the
chair, and looped around its legs. Additional ropes
crossed the chair and their laps, reinforcing their
helplessness. Squirming was possible, but if either of
them pulled on her bound wrists and/or kicked her bound ankles,
it tugged on both their arms and legs. It was also...
intimate. They were in an involuntary embrace... an
involuntary naked embrace. There were knots (of
course) but none of them were within reach of their fingers, and
that became even more the case after Kassidy mummified their
fingers and hands with black latex tape, then used silver
duct-tape to tightly cover the latex layer.
Kassidy was very pleased with herself. The
hugging naked professor and her naked student were not.
Peyton had watched her employee perpetrate her hemp, latex, and
duct-tape outrage, smiling her lopsided grin and ready to help,
if necessary, but her help hadn't been needed. Lori and
Heidi's spirits weren't broken, per se, but Kassidy had
taken the usual precautions, making sure they were always at
least semi-helpless while she created her art
installation. The prisoners knew it was yet another battle
they couldn't win, so they didn't bother trying.
Anyway, Lori and Heidi's predicament complete, Peyton and
Kassidy stood side-by-side in matching arms-crossed-under-boobs
gloating poses, smiled, and watched the captives wiggle, squirm,
and blush. Then, the kidnappers exchanged a high-five
hand-slap, turned, and left the room.
Cheek-to-cheek, Lori and Heidi watched their kidnappers
depart... then heaved simultaneous sighs. (This did
nothing to suppress the embarrassing intimacy of their
"Are you okay, Heidi?" Lori whispered.
"Uh... I suppose," Heidi answered. Was she sore all
over? Yes. Was she happy? No. But there
was no need to add to Doc's burden. "How 'bout you?"
Lori heaved another sigh. "I'm rather worried about the
rest of the academic quarter. I suppose others can take up
my teaching load, but it's going to be inconvenient for all
"Yeah," Heidi agreed. "This is gonna totally wreck my
plan-of-study. Some of my courses won't be offered again
'til next year."
"Yes, that is unfortunate," Lori stated, perfectly
They gazed at each other for a few seconds... then
laughed. It was either that or cry, and both were pleased
to see that the other had retained her sense of humor.
They then heaved another sigh and rested their heads on each
A short while later, Kassidy returned to the sitting room.
The chair-captives watched her approach, and heaved yet another
joint sigh. Dangling from her right hand were a pair of
ball-gags. Neither prisoner was surprised, just
disappointed. There was absolutely no objective need to
gag either of them. And so, of course, Kassidy was going
to do it.
"Sorry for the delay," Kassidy purred. "I knew this thing
was around here somewhere, but I couldn't remember
exactly where I last stashed it."
Lori and Heidi could now see that the ball-gags were, in fact, a
single ball-gag, or more precisely, a double-ball-gag,
with two conjoined mouth-plugging spheres, each with its own
"No!" Lori objected.
"Nrrrf!" Heidi agreed. Kassidy had chosen her to go
first. One of the balls was in her mouth and Kassidy was
buckling the strap at the nape of her neck, under her tousled
brown hair. As usual, Kassidy was cinching the buckle
tight enough to cause Heidi's cheeks to bulge.
"No! I said no!" Lori squirmed and objected
as Kassidy walked around the chair—"Mrrrk!"—thrust the second
ball between her teeth and into her mouth, then buckled the
second strap as tightly as she had the first.
Fortunately (and probably by design) the balls were joined
together by a rubber-padded swivel-joint, enabling Lori and
Heidi to turn their heads and find a "comfortable"
position. Their lips were now pressed together, exactly as
if they were sharing a deep, wet kiss—an involuntary and
permanent deep, wet kiss—and in point of fact, they
"Mrrrmpfh!" That was a joint statement by the naked
Lori and Heidi rolled their shoulders and continued mewling
complaints through the double-gag. A free exchange of
saliva was underway, with a liberal amount escaping their
mouths, dripping down their chins, spotting their upper breasts,
and oozing between the squashed globes, providing lubrication
when their struggles caused boob-on-boob grinding.
"Well... sleep tight," Kassidy quipped, then spun on her heels
and left the sitting room.
"MMMRFFF!" The prisoners screamed... then stopped
struggling. The rope-enforced hug continued, of course, as
did the "kiss."
|Scads of Extra Credit
For the past several nights
Peyton had shared her bed with her Resident Scholar, the
University Professor she'd "hired" to curate the latest
additions to her wonderful collection. It had been
Peyton's longstanding habit to sleep in the nude, and she had
seen no reason to change simply because she'd decided to indulge
Kassidy for the evening by letting her play a rope game with
both her senior and junior Resident Scholars.
So... Peyton was nude, sprawled in the tangled covers of her
king-sized platform bed, her tousled red curls half-covering her
totally relaxed face, fast asleep... and completely
alone in her luxurious bedroom.
And then, she wasn't.
"Mrrrf!" Something (meaning someone) was sitting
on Peyton's body! Another someone had stuffed some
sort of foam ball into her mouth, and now was stretching a
rubbery, mask-like panel over her mouth and lower face, from
under her chin to just under her nose! "Mrrrrrr!"
And they were somehow securing the panel-gag at the nape of her
neck, under her hair! "Mrrrk!" Peyton wasn't
completely without martial arts training, so she might have
been able to at least impede her captor's progress, but the
contest had started with her unconscious. And more
importantly, her attackers were highly competent, anticipated
and countered her every move, and overpowered her feeble
resistance with trivial ease.
Peyton's arms were pulled behind her back and padded restraints
of some sort tightened around her wrists, binding them
together. Similar cuffs secured her ankles, putting an end
to her enthusiastic efforts to kick her captors. Naked,
bound hand and foot, and—"Mrrrf!"—gagged, Peyton shook her red
hair from her face.
The only light in the bedroom came from the pair of dim,
blue-green nightlights near the floor on either side of the bed,
but it was enough. She could now see that her attackers
were three in number, and they were all dressed from head to toe
in black tactical outfits: boots, skintight catsuits, knee pads,
body armor, elbow pads, hoods, helmets, and night-vision
goggles. They had handguns holstered on their right hips,
but no weapons were in their gloved hands. And
oh-by-the-way, the strangers were all women—fit, curvaceous, and
"First target secure," one of the ninja-like intruders
announced, probably into the microphone in front of her
And then, two more of the black-clad women appeared, bringing
the total of uninvited bedroom guests to five, and they were
bringing with them a coffin-sized, brushed aluminum packing case
on what appeared to be a gurney-like folding wheeled
platform. Now fully awake and with adrenaline coursing
through her veins, Peyton realized the coffin-case was almost
certainly for her!
She was right. The attackers opened the case's lid, lifted
her squirming, naked, bound, and gagged body, and deposited her
in its padded interior. "Nrrr! Nrrrrrrr!"
Resistance was futile. Nylon straps tightened across
Peyton's already bound ankles, above and below her knees, her
thighs, her waist and forearms, and her upper arms and torso,
above and below her oscillating breasts. Thankfully, there
was a cutout in the padding to accommodate her hands and arms,
minimizing the strain on her shoulders, but she was now totally
helpless. Only minimal squirming was possible.
One of the ninja-women peeled the paper backing from adhesive
disks and pasted what Peyton suspected were medical sensors to
her chest, above her left boob, then to her right inner thigh,
over her femoral artery. Meanwhile, one held her head
steady while another secured the straps of a gasmask with a
large, clear, oval face-plate over her gagged face.
Peyton squirmed and fought her restraints, to no avail.
And then, one of the she-ninjas closed the lid of the coffin!
Total darkness! The padding of the lid's interior pressed
against Peyton's upper body, unnecessarily enhancing her total
Peyton's panic abruptly subsided. She felt... strange...
and suddenly very sleepy. She closed her eyes... watched
phantom lights twinkle and dance across the inside of her
eyelids... then lapsed into blessed unconsciousness.
|Scads of Extra Credit
Kassidy opened her
eyes. Someone was in her bedroom. She lay still for
several seconds... then erupted from the bed, was immediately
knocked to the floor, rolled to the side, and flowed to her feet
into fighting stance—all in one fluid motion.
Kassidy was nude. Like her employer, sleeping in the buff
was her habit.
The intruders, however—and there were three of them—were not
nude. They were dressed identically in black tactical
outfits and gear. Even in the dim light Kassidy could see
their equipment was state-of-the-art, allowing both freedom of
movement and protection, and included the latest in low-profile
night vision goggles. One was engaging her in combat—the
second was standing by to her left, just outside of Kassidy's
swing-kicking range but ready to join the fray—and the third was
slightly further away and to her right, her right hand resting
on the butt of the handgun holstered on her hip.
Somehow (obviously) they'd disabled the mansion's alarm
system. All three were female, and they knew their
business, which (obviously) was attempting to capture Kassidy
Roth. She could see no markings on their uniforms, like
"FBI" or "POLICE", and they hadn't announced their affiliation
and called upon her to surrender. Also—following a flurry
of blocked kicks and strips, a deftly countered take-down, and
another roll on the carpet and return to fighting stance—at
least the one Kassidy was fighting knew her stuff.
"Enough of this crap," one of the intruders announced. It
was the one with the handgun. With lightning speed, she
drew the weapon and fired.
There was a surprisingly quiet cough, and at the same
time, Kassidy felt a sting in her right
butt-cheek. Obviously, the handgun was a gas-powered
dart-pistol—and a dart was now protruding from her right gluteus
maximus. She reached back to pluck the dart from her
butt and throw it with and under-arm flip at one of her
attackers. That was her intention, anyway. Instead,
Kassidy's eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed to the
Kassidy lay on her side, more-or-less paralyzed. She
opened her eyes and flinched when one of the women-in-black
plucked the dart from her butt for her, then watched as two more
intruders wheeled a coffin-shaped aluminum case into the
bedroom. She struggled to make sense of what was happening
and get to her feet... then decided to close her eyes,
instead. Darkness descended.
|Scads of Extra Credit
Lori and Heidi awoke
from a fitful, wretched, and not at all restful slumber to find
someone unbuckling their double-ball-gags. Whoever they
were, there were at least two of them, and they were dressed
from head to toe in black.
"Dr. Ryder, how are you feeling?"
Lori blinked in confusion. The voice was female, and now
that she noticed, both of their black-clad rescuers were as
well... meaning female... also quite obviously physically
fit. "I... I'm, uh... Oh, yes, please."
The woman-in-black had held a bottle of water to her lips, and
she swallowed a generous (distressingly sloppy) gulp. "I'm
fine. And you would be?"
"We're here to rescue you," the woman said.
"How 'bout you, Ms. Hass," the other woman inquired as she held
a second bottle so Heidi could drink.
After swallowing, Heidi heaved a deep sigh. "Peachy.
Did you say rescue?"
Lori was pleased to learn that this was, in fact, a rescue, but
wanted to know more. "Are you the police? What about
Peyton Frazier and that horrid Kassidy woman? Ow!"
After restoring the cap to the bottle of water and returning it
to the pouch on her belt, Lori's rescuer had pulled a
cylindrical object from a narrow pocket sewn into her left upper
sleeve, removed its cap, and pressed it against the side of
Lori's neck! It was a hypodermic injector!
"Ow!" Heidi agreed. Her alleged rescuer had given her
an injection at the same time. "What the hell? I
thought you were the good guys!"
"We are," the masked woman answered. "This will help you
Heidi noticed Lori's eyes were closed, with an
uncharacteristically goofy smile curling her lips. "What
did yoo dooze tuh Doc? Waz did yoo ingest us wiz? ...I
mean injex? ...I mean... wha waz in da neezles?" Heidi's
tongue had suddenly turned numb, making it very difficult for
her to enunciate properly. And then... it didn't
matter. She closed her eyes and her head lolled to the
side, coming to rest on Lori's shoulder.
The women-in-black began untying the captives' rope bonds and
carefully slicing through the layers of tape mummifying their
"The kid's strong," one of the woman untying Heidi
remarked. "Maybe I should give her another injection."
"They'll both be breathing sleep-gas in the back of the
ambulance soon," the other responded.
Just then, two more black-clad rescuers appeared, each pushing a
conventional gurney (with a plethora of dangling straps).
|Scads of Extra Credit
Heidi opened her eyes...
blinked... and stared up at the rather complicated wooden
rafters of the wood-panelled ceiling overhead. It was
arched, vaulted, and crisscrossed by richly-stained
timbers. All of the above. Complicated.
She was lying in a very comfortable bed, covered by a
gazillion-thread-count cotton sheet in a very pretty shade of...
Pomegranate? There was also a light blanket woven
in a vaguely ethnic/tribal pattern in a half-dozen visually
pleasing and mutually compatible natural colors. Very
pretty. She was naked, and—
Heidi's eyes popped wide and she threw back the covers, vaulted
from the bed, landed on the floor in her best combat-ready
stance, and blew the errant strands of her tousled brown hair
from her face. I'm not tied up! she
realized. Not even a little!
There was soft carpet under her bare feet, and she was in a
large, luxurious bedroom. (Her big clue had been the
bed.) There was a little art hanging on the wood-paneled
walls, all abstract, and very soothing, with the exception of a
single Post-Impressionistic painting that was probably a Gauguin
reproduction. However, it was all very pretty. Also,
there were a few inoffensive knickknacks and tchotchkes scattered among the many
books on various shelves and cabinets. Overall, the decor
was ethnic/tribal (like the blanket on the bed), in a mix of
compatible earth-tones, but was... generic and slightly
impersonal, like a suite in a high-end tropical resort.
This impression was reinforced by the view from the
trapezoidal-shaped bedroom's two window-walls. Heidi could
see the ocean (some ocean), a gleaming sand beach, and
green vegetation, including what appeared to be several coconut
|Angelina Jolie as...
Operative of the
Sisterhood's Action Directorate
Heidi was about to pad to the windows and see if she could learn
anything more, when—Rap-rap-rap!—there was a quiet but
authoritative knock at the door. (And yes, the bedroom did
have a door). Heidi shuffled to face said door, still in
combat mode and ready to do battle. The door opened... and
a beautiful stranger appeared.
She was old, about Doc's age... maybe... and with tan
skin. A lot of tan skin, as she was wearing
nothing but a string bikini in a silky blue fabric that matched
her eyes. Her longish, gleaming brown hair was pulled back
in a ponytail, and a warm smile curled her full lips. And
she was beautiful. Her physique, muscle tone, proportions,
body-fat-index, flawless skin, and everything were
simply perfect. And she was beautiful. Heidi
But was she a good guy or a bad guy? (Not that there was
anything to in any way suggest that she might be a guy.)
She wasn't carrying coils of rope or cord, handcuffs, or
anything else she might use to render Heidi bound and helpless
(other than her string bikini). That was a good sign, and
her smile was welcoming. Another good sign. That
said, the jury was out until Heidi knew more. She remained
ready to fight... and naked.
"Ah, you're awake," the beautiful woman said. "How are you
feeling, Ms. Haas?"
Heidi relaxed into a more casual pose. She could always
snap back into combat stance if the woman made any threatening
moves. "Uh, I'm fine... I suppose."
"Excellent," the woman beamed. "My name is Jane."
She gestured towards a closed door. "The bathroom is
there." She pointed to another door. "And that's the
walk-in closet. After you tidy up you should get dressed
and join Dr. Ryder and myself for brunch. We won't be
difficult to find."
Heidi realized she was very hungry. Her stomach
grumbled in anticipation. "Doc's here?" she demanded.
"She is," Jane smiled. "There's no hurry, so take your
time. Enjoy a nice refreshing shower. We'll be
dining poolside, so swimwear would be appropriate."
Heidi frowned. "Excuse me. Swimwear?"
Jane laughed and pointed to the second door. "You'll find
everything you'll need in the closet." Her smile
widened. "Welcome to Marsopa Cay, Heidi." And with
that, she closed the door and Heidi was alone.
Well, Heidi thought, staring at the back of the now
closed door. Okay. Thanks.
So... Heidi was naked but neither bound nor gagged, and she was
forced to accept that it was increasingly probable that she (and
Doc) had, in fact, been rescued. Granted, she was in need
of a bathroom visit, a shower, some clothing, and especially—Grumble!—some
food, all of which had been promised and were supposedly
imminent, providing Beautiful Jane had been telling the
truth. Of course her bikini-clad hostess could be
a part of the whole Peyton Frazier Conspiracy and at any moment
one of the bedroom's three doors could burst open to admit
Kassidy, no doubt with a handful of rope and the expert skill to
use it! But that seemed increasingly unlikely.
Heidi's stomach complained again. Grumble.
(Get on with it!)
Okay, okay, she mentally sighed as she padded towards the
alleged bathroom door. On with the show.
|Scads of Extra
| Chapter 7