full day of Eliza and Tippi's cunning plan to produce a blog
about Coco Vespini and her alleged Art dawned. Coco
released Eliza from her medical restraints, Pepper released
Tippi from her soft cotton clothesline bonds, and the girls
padded to the bathroom to conduct their morning toilettes (and
"Rope-marks," Eliza noted, frowning at the reddish indentations
on Tippi's skin as they padded towards the showers.
"Pepper used soft cotton clothesline," Tippi confirmed, "and
tied me in a box-tie, crossed-ankle-tie, and hogtie, but not too
tight. None of it was especially tight. She also
tethered me to the bed, for safety's sake, but not tight, like I
said. I had plenty of wiggle room. She was... nice."
"Nice," Eliza huffed. "I get lashed with a million miles
of paracord from head-to-toe and you get a wimpy little
"Coco did that to you again?" Tippi gasped, then
frowned. "Wait. You don't have any
cord-marks." She took hold of Eliza's left hand and pulled
it close. "You don't even have wrist marks."
Eliza jerked her hand away. "Let go! I meant the first
night. And when did you become such a bondage
expert? 'Box-tie.' 'Crossed-ankle-tie.' You
told me you were a complete newbie."
Tippi began soaping herself. "I am, like you. Pepper
taught me, and... shut up!" She handed the soap to Eliza,
who grinned and began soaping herself. "So," Tippi
inquired, "what did she do to you last night if it
wasn't rope or cord?"
Eliza's scowl returned. "Medical restraints. Padded
leather and locking buckles; but not the fancy
new, infinitely adjustable stuff with magnetic locks. Old
A plastic bottle labeled "SHAMPOO" had been added to the
institutional bathroom supplies, along with hairbrushes, combs,
toothbrushes, and tubes of toothpaste. Apparently, the
Vespini sisters weren't worried about their "patients" using
toiletry products to harm themselves (or escape). Tippi
was using a dab of shampoo to work up a lather in her short
brown hair. She handed the bottle to Eliza and she did the
same with her slightly shorter blond hair.
"Pepper seems to be going a lot easier on you than Coco is on
me," Eliza observed.
Seconds passed before Tippi answered. "On the other hand,
medical restraints are pretty easy. Not to escape
from, I imagine, but... nicer than cord."
"I suppose," Eliza conceded.
Having finished rinsing their now clean bodies, the girls turned
off the showers and started drying themselves with fluffy white
"What do you suppose they're gonna do to us today?" Tippi asked
as she gently brushed out her
"How the bloody hell should I know?" Eliza huffed, then heaved a
sigh and smiled at Tippi in the mirror. "Sorry.
Tippi chuckled. "You're nervous? Hah!"
She handed the brush to Eliza. "You need to get that cut,"
she said, running her fingers through Eliza's damp blond
locks. "And it you're gonna let it grow, you still need a
trim, to even it out."
"Stop!" Eliza ordered, swatting Tippi's hand away. "It's
fine the way it is."
Tippi wasn't offended. "Whatever," she grinned, wrapped
her damp towel around her torso, and headed for her bedroom to
see what sort of uniform-of-the-day would be laid out on her bed
Eliza finished "fixing" her hair and followed. However,
she didn't bother wrapping her towel. Eliza did a
casual streak. After all, there was nobody there but
|| Chapter 3
"uniforms" were black spandex and identical, like yesterday;
however, today they were somewhat skimpier. The bottoms
were bicycle-shorts, rather than capri-pants, and the tops were
halter-tops, instead of tank-tops, thus leaving their midriffs
completely exposed. Like yesterday, the spandex was thin
and skintight (revealing camel-toes and pokies).
After a delicious breakfast, Eliza was assigned laundry duty
while Tippi used an iPad to help Pepper compile a shopping list
in the large pantry off the kitchen. Eliza went from room
to room gathering dirty clothes and towels and taking them to
the basement, where Coco showed her how to use the
machines. Meanwhile, Tippi dutifully tapped the virtual
keys of an iPad's shopping list app.
Around mid-morning, Daily Exercise Hour happened in the home
gym, and all four of the mansion's residents participated.
They were naked, of course (as per household regulations), and
after preliminary stretching and warmup exercises, each made a
complete circuit of the entire gym, moving from machine to
machine. Stationary-bike, universal-resistance-machine,
running-machine, stair-climber, rowing-machine—everybody got to
use them all. There was a timer, regulated by Coco, that
sounded a gong when it was time to change
machines. And after a built-in interval to allow
stretching and wiping down the pads, the starting gong would
sound and exercise would resume.
It was an arduous workout, but the girls survived. The
group session in the dry sauna afterwards helped. Then,
still naked, flushed, and sweaty, Coco took Eliza by the hand
and led her away. Pepper took Tippi's hand and led her
away as well.
Pepper's destination was her bedroom, which Tippi had only seen
once before, when the girls received their initial tour of the
mansion's living spaces, meaning the rooms not locked away
behind closed doors and/or iron gates.
"We'll share the shower to save time," Pepper announced, then
led Tippi into the bedroom's large, luxuriously appointed,
Tippi had no choice. Her hand was in Pepper's firm
grasp. The bathroom had the usual washbasin, mirror, and
commode, all high-end and fancy, of course, as well as a soaking
tub and a very spacious shower-alcove with more than enough room
for two. "I-I d-don't mind if you go first," Tippi
"Don't be silly, darling," Pepper purred. "That would
waste water. And we can scrub each other's backs."
Tippi blinked in apprehension as Pepper turned on the
water. Pepper had a point. Water conservation was a
worthy cause, and it would be rude to make a scene.
Anyway, the shower happened, backs were scrubbed, as were the
rest of their anatomies... and Tippi's "ordeal" was over.
They helped each other towel dry as well. Pepper
insisted. Next, they shared a hand-drier, brush, and comb
to deal with their hair.
Back in the main bedroom, Pepper ordered Tippi to stand by the
bed and wait, then disappeared into what appeared to be a
spacious walk-in closet. Tippi followed her orders and
waited patiently, as well as somewhat nervously, for Pepper to
reappear. Seconds turned into minutes... and then...
"Such a good girl," Pepper cooed as she breezed back into the
bedroom. She was wearing a very pretty (and no doubt
expensive) wrap-dress in a floral print on a black background,
as well as a pair of black pumps, and was carrying a bundle of
clothes, which she tossed on the bed. "These are for you."
Tippi gazed at the clothes for a couple of seconds, then started
sorting them out. They were a pleated skirt in a navy,
maroon, and white tartan plaid, a white cotton short-sleeve
blouse, and a set of plain black underwear. Uh...
None of it would have been Tippi's first choice, but she figured
she might as well try everything on. The panties were very
French-cut and disturbingly thong-like, and the bra was
strapless (of the bandeau variety). Also, its spandex cups
were tight and thin enough to reveal a pair of pokies. The
skirt's lower hem came to her mid-thighs, and together with the
blouse, presented more than a strong hint of some sort of
"Oh, you're adorable," Pepper cooed, took Tippi's hand, and led
her into the closet.
It was, indeed, a humongous walk-in closet, as Tippi had
suspected, and was crammed with enough designer clothes to dress
a small army. Pepper led Tippi to the very back, where a
triptych of full-length mirrors presented her with her new
Tippi blushed. "I-I look like a... schoolgirl."
"Yes, you do," Pepper agreed, then plunked Tippi down on a
comfortably padded stool. "Here," she said, and handed
Tippi a pair of black knee-socks... followed by a pair of black
"Do I have to?" Tippi whined.
Pepper smiled and nodded.
Tippi heaved a sigh, donned the socks, followed by the
loafers. She then stood and once again gazed at herself in
"Perfect," Pepper gushed, then turned and started rummaging in a
drawer of a built-in cabinet.
Tippi was still gazing at her reflections. She was now the
very picture of a stereotypical schoolgirl of the
Catholic or prep school variety, but not Japanese-middle-school
or Hogwarts... or maybe kind of Hogwarts. She had
to admit it was a rather cute look. Nothing she'd
ever choose on her own, but... cute. Also—"Hey!"
Pepper had returned, pulled Tippi's hands behind her back, and—Click-k-k-k!
Click-k-k-k!—was tightening a pair of police handcuffs
around her wrists!
"Hey!" Tippi reiterated, then twisted her wrists and tugged on
the cuffs. She did a half-turn to the right so she could
see her new accessories in the mirrors. The cuffs were
hinged, rather than joined by a short chain, and they were
black, rather than shiny steel.
"Hush, darling," Pepper scolded. She then rested her chin
on Tippi's shoulder and they both gazed into the mirrors.
"I've always wanted to kidnap a schoolgirl," Pepper sighed, "a
pretty senior over eighteen, of course. You look perfect
with your girlish features and neat pageboy. Have you ever
thought about cutting your hair a little shorter, darling?
Maybe a Lulu-cut? The same basic shape, only just barely
covering your ears? You know, like Guido Crepax' Valentina
Brooks?" Tippi stammered, tugging on her cuffs. "Is
that what you mean by a L-Lulu-cut?"
"Yes, you clever girl," Pepper purred. "Come." She
took hold of Tippi's right upper arm and led her from the
closet... then from the bedroom. "Let's see if Sis has
"R-ready for what?" Tippi inquired.
"Hush, Schoolgirl," Pepper chuckled, "unless you want a pretty
gag. I think I've got a scarf and a long necktie that
match that skirt, but I'm not sure exactly where."
|| Chapter 3
"allowed" Pepper to lead her to one of the mansion's sitting
rooms. There, Coco and Eliza were waiting, lounging in
chairs. Both were still sweaty and their hair damp and
disheveled, more or less as they'd all been when they left the
sauna. Tippi surmised that for some reason they hadn't yet
taken showers or gotten dressed—except for Eliza—with respect to
the getting dressed part.
That is, Coco was completely nude, except for a thin gold chain
around her neck with a gold-plated barrel-style key. And
just to be clear, it wasn't a gold barrel-key charm, but
a full-size and no doubt fully functional barrel-key, a fancy
gold version of Coco's ubiquitous one-key-fits-all-locks key.
Eliza, on the other hand, was not nude. In fact,
Eliza was wearing a black leather straitjacket! It was of
the bare-breasted bolero variety, at least Tippi considered that
was a reasonable description. She had no actual idea how
the thing was listed in the manufacturer's catalog, of course,
assuming it wasn't custom made. Anyway, the jacket's
leather was more-or less skintight, with no real folds or
creases that Tippi could see. Eliza's arms were folded
under her breasts in the traditional straitjacket self-hug, and
were completely enclosed from her fingertips to her
shoulders. A taut leather strap pinned her upper arms to
her sides, passing completely around her body and above her
boobs, and with little retaining-sleeves sewn in the jacket's
upper sleeves to keep it in position—as if the strap's tightness
wasn't already enough. Another strap encircled her
leather-encased forearms and pinned them tightly against the
jacket's front, below her boobs, then continued up between her
boobs to buckle tight just below the jacket's collar.
Steel D-rings ran down the sides of the jacket, three on each
side at the shoulders, upper arms, and lower margins for a total
of six. They shook when Eliza moved, but didn't rattle as
there was nothing but leather for them to shake against.
And speaking of bare breasts, Eliza's were poking through what
amounted to... gaskets. The leathery boob-collars weren't
especially tight, but they did impart a slight bulge to
Eliza's pert pair, just enough to enhance their... globularity?
Is that a word? Tippi did her best not to stare.
Eliza was bare from mid-torso to mid-thighs (hence Tippi's
"bolero" designation of the jacket) and her exposed skin was
sweaty (like all of Coco). From Eliza's
mid-thighs to her ankles, however, Eliza's legs were encased in
a tight single-sleeve of black leather with encircling straps
around her thighs, just below her knees, and around her
ankles. There were more of the sewn-in retaining-sleeves
to keep the straps in position, and as with jacket's
upper-arm/chest-strap, the leg-straps were all tight enough to
make the tiny retaining sleeves unnecessary. Six more
steel D-rings were attached to the leg-sleeve, three on each
side. Finally, a little mini-harness of thin straps
encircled Eliza's otherwise bare feet, bound her big-toes
together, and linked to the leg-sheath's ankle-strap.
Also, while Coco was sprawled in a stylish and no doubt
decadently comfortable Queen Anne wing-back chair, Eliza's chair
was quite different. In point of fact, she was sitting
in—or rather was strapped into—a solidly built,
institutional wheelchair! The frame was tubular steel with
a brushed finish, the padding was ocean-blue, and taut, broad,
royal-blue "safety straps" of nylon webbing were tightened
across Eliza's lower-legs, thighs, waist, torso, and throat,
making sure she didn't "accidentally" fall out of the chair.
Finally, while it was quite clear that Eliza was not happy,
articulate vocal complaints on her part were quite
impossible. A network of thin leather straps caged Eliza's
entire head and anchored some sort of plug or ball in her
mouth. There was also a thin leather panel that stretched
tightly across her lower face and cupped her chin. In
short, Eliza was gagged, and quite effectively gagged at that.
And adding dishevelment to restraint, Eliza's
badly-in-need-of-a-shampoo blond hair poked between the
harness-gag's straps in random spikes. Poor Eliza was a
seriously ticked off Punk prisoner.
Once again, Tippi realized she'd gotten the better end of the
deal. Her hands were "only" cuffed behind her back, but
poor Eliza was strapped and laced and/or zipped into a small
fortune's worth of black leather restraints. It was...
unfair. Tippi thought that maybe she ought to say
something about it... but decided to wait. If she demanded
bondage equity, it might not happen the way she wanted.
"There you are," Coco said smiling at her sister. She then
focused on Tippi and her smile broadened. "Oh, she's
absolutely adorable!" Coco gushed.
"Isn't she?" Pepper purred, then turned to Tippi and
straightened the collar of her white blouse. "Coco has
something she'd like to explain to you girls, so pay close
"Uh, okay," Tippi said in a near whisper.
"All right then," Coco began. "You're going into town,
Tippi, to help Pepper with the shopping."
"I am?" Tippi gasped and focused on Eliza, who stared back with
a gagged glower.
"You are," Pepper chuckled, "and beforehand we'll have lunch at
a cute little lake-side restaurant I like. Now, be quiet
"Yes ma'am," Tippi sighed, then swallowed and refocused on Coco.
"Now," Coco continued, "while you're away, we're going to
indulge in a little role playing. From now on,
whenever one of you girls leaves the mansion, the other will
be... shall we say... sequestered in a very secure
location until her return. And the location in question
will be quite effectively hidden. In fact, it will be
impossible to find. And the one who remains behind will be
bound, gagged, and quite helpless. That way, Tippi, if you
were to run to the police while in town and tell them your
friend Eliza was being held prisoner by the evil Vespini Sisters
in their sinister mansion, they could descend on this place and
search to the point of exhaustion... and find absolutely
nothing. Do you understand?"
Tippi's heart was pounding, and she realized her eyes were wet
with unshed tears. "What are you... I mean, where... I
mean... Please don't hurt her. Please!"
Coco focused on her sister. "She is so precious."
Her smile returned to Tippi. "Don't cry, darling.
It's all a game. I've grown quite fond of my blond Tomboy
and will do nothing to harm her."
"We're just pretending to coerce your cooperation,
silly," Pepper purred, then kissed Tippi's cheek. "It's a
game, like Coco said. Now, let's go. I'm hungry."
And with that, Pepper led Tippi from the sitting room.
Tippi looked back over her shoulder at Eliza's glowering,
helpless form for as long as she could... and then they were
through the doorway and on their way to the garage.
|| Chapter 3
in her comfortable chair, toyed with the gold key dangling from
her necklace, and smiled at Eliza.
Eliza squirmed in her inescapable leather bonds in the thinly
padded "comfort" of her rugged, institutional wheelchair, and scowled
"Well," Coco purred after several seconds, "we might as well get
you squirreled away." She left her comfy chair, padded
behind Eliza's not-so-comfy chair, released the brakes, and
wheeled Eliza away.
In the course of the journey that followed, Eliza finally got to
see a little more of the formerly unknown parts of the Vespini
At first, they rolled down familiar territory. They passed
the open iron gate to the "patient wing," causing the
prisoner-of-the-chair to wonder if the sisters had been bluffing
about hiding her away someplace where she'd never be found and
Coco was going to simply put her to bed in her guest bedroom...
but no. They rolled her past her bedroom door... then past
Tippi's bedroom door... and on down the hallway.
The remainder of the wing had already been explored by Eliza and
Tippi, if you can call rattling locked doorknobs
exploration. Every door had, indeed, been locked, on both
sides of the hall, and that included the iron gate at the very
end that barred access to the stairway leading up to the second
floor and down to the basement. What was beyond the locked
doors they still had no idea, but a pair of sliding doors near
the far end were obviously an elevator, with a barrel-key-style
keyhole on the right, about the place they would have expected
to find a call button.
Coco rolled Eliza in front of the probable elevator, inserted
her key in a keyhole, gave it a quarter-turn—Ping!—and
the doors slid open to the left, revealing the interior of a
typical elevator car.
Big surprise, Eliza mused as Coco rolled her inside and
spun her around. Eliza noted a control panel to the right,
a vertical column of buttons labeled A, 2, G,
and B. At the moment, only the G button
was illuminated. Clever girl that she was, Eliza broke the
code: A was for attic, 2 meant second floor, G
was for ground, and B was the basement. Basking in
the glory of her intellectual achievement, Eliza watched
(scowled) as Coco pressed the B button. The
elevator doors rumbled closed, the ping! sounded again,
the B button began to glow, the G button winked
out, and the car descended.
Eliza had already seen the mansion's basement. More
precisely, she'd seen the location of the mansion's laundry
room. The rest of the basement had been the usual mild
clutter with the usual steel shelves holding cardboard boxes and
plastic bins, stacks of presumably obsolete furniture, and a few
storage trunks and wooden crates... then darkness. There
were also the usual utilities: heat-pump, plumbing junctions,
power panels, etc. However, Eliza hadn't really had an
opportunity to thoroughly explore as she'd been busy gathering
dirty clothes from the various hampers on the checklist Coco had
given her, hauling all the dirty clothes to the basement, then
loading and operating the washing machine and dryer. She
did manage a quick recon at one point, but found nothing more
than a solid wall of concrete blocks defining the far end of the
basement. However, by her best estimate, the space she'd
been in comprised only about half the footprint of the mansion
overhead. Obviously, Coco was taking her to the other
part of the basement, subterranean terra incognita.
Coco wheeled Eliza from the elevator, and Eliza found herself in
a corridor lined with steel doors. All in all, it was
striking similar to the hallway immediately overhead, but with
three not-so-subtle differences. (1) Same as upstairs,
lighting fixtures set into the concrete ceiling and protected by
steel grills stretched into the distance, but the basement
lights were quite a bit dimmer. (2) The ceiling and walls
were painted a rather gloomy shade of gray, as opposed
to the "cheerful" institutional beige upstairs. (3) The
floor was clad with dark gray linoleum tiles, and not the
"cheerful" institutional tan and rust checkerboard of tiles
upstairs. Together, the weak lighting, gray walls, and
light absorbing floor tiles conspired to produce a decidedly
spooky, sinister, and unsettling horror-movie/ghost-story
ambiance. Eliza doubted it was an accident.
Coco wheeled Eliza down the corridor... passing from pool of
weak light... to near darkness... to the next pool of weak
light... etc. She paused to unlock and open a door in
roughly the middle of the corridor, revealing what was obviously
a cleaning closet. On the left was a rack of brooms and
mops. On the right, steel shelves with a stack of steel
buckets, plastic jugs of cleaning products, and cardboard boxes
of paper towels. And straight ahead a deep-sink with
hand-soap and paper towel dispensers mounted on the wall.
The closet was surprisingly generous, with more than enough room
for Coco to push Eliza and her chair close to the sink.
Coco then stepped to the side, gripped the soap dispenser, and
gave it a counter-clockwise twist, turning it about forty-five
degrees. There was a loud click... a motor
hummed... and the entire wall pivoted backwards and to the left,
taking the deep-sink with it! The wall was like a giant
door on a hinge—or, as Eliza realized—a secret giant
door on a hinge!
Her blue eyes wide above the harness-gag's panel and between the
thin straps framing her nose, Eliza stared at the corridor
beyond. It had the same gray paint-job, dark-gray tile
floor, and dim lighting as the corridor behind them. It
continued forward for several yards... three pools of dim
light... then turned to the right.
Eliza realized her heart was hammering and her breath coming in
gagged pants. It's true! It's not a
bluff! She has secret chambers under the mansion and
she's going to... sequester me!
|| Chapter 3
It was a very
nice seafood bistro with a charming view of a small, scenic lake
that wasn't the much larger but equally scenic lake next to the
Vespini mansion. Pepper and her young companion dressed
like a schoolgirl (Tippi) were seated on the restaurant's deck,
sipping iced tea under the shelter of a large umbrella, enjoying
the view and waiting for their food to arrive. (The
handcuffs were in Pepper's purse.)
Sparkling water and dabbling ducks aside, Tippi was worried
about Eliza. She didn't really think Coco would do
anything terrible to her best friend... like bury her
alive. And she didn't know why she was even thinking about
stuff like premature burial, encasement in cement, Eliza getting
bricked up in a basement alcove, etc. For one thing, she
didn't think Coco was the sort of person to go in for the amount
of manual labor that would be required, and for another...
This is nuts! she realized. I need to calm
down... and stop channeling Edgar Alan Poe.
Pepper realized her charming young guest was somewhat
fretful. She found it most unfortunate (or
possibly delicious). "Tippi, darling," she purred,
"remember... it's only a game."
"I know," Tippi sighed.
Pepper's dimpled smile took a sinister twist (maybe).
"Besides, what she told you is true. Coco really is quite
fond of her precious Tomboy and is nowhere near finished
playing with her, just like I'm not done teasing my cute little
Schoolgirl. Coco will be careful. And it's not like
she's going to tuck your girlfriend away somewhere and forget
where she's hidden her."
Tippi knew she was being teased and pursed her lips in a cute
little pout, one of her most potent expressions. Seconds
passed before Pepper's "girlfriend" remark fully registered, but
by then it was too late to make a denial without her supposed
relationship with Eliza getting a double underline on
Pepper's list of things-to-tease-Tippi-about.
Just then, their waitress arrived, a very cute,
somewhat petite redhead in sensible shoes, a short black skirt,
a white blouse more formal than Tippi's, and sporting a cute
little black bow tie. She was expertly carrying a large
tray laden with their lunch. Her name-tag read "Keira."
Tippi noted the way Pepper was smiling. No doubt the
Vespini Sisters would like to tease and torment poor Keira as
well, she mused. I should probably tell her to
run for it.
Pepper received a Seafood Louis salad: iceberg lettuce,
Dungeness crabmeat, bay shrimp, avocado, tomatoes, asparagus
spears, hardboiled egg, black olives, and a yummy dressing made
with mayonnaise, ketchup, and sweet relish.
Tippi received a Lobster Roll: lobster meat, mayonnaise, and
diced celery and scallion, on a soft French roll with a side of
fries. After all, it was a seafood restaurant,
Tippi very seldom got a chance to indulge in lobster, and Pepper
|| Chapter 3
Subterranean Corridor with its Depressing Gray paint, Light
Sucking Gray tile floor, and inadequate mood lighting took
another turn... and five steel doors appeared, two on either
side and one straight ahead. Coco unlocked and opened the
first door on the right with her dangling gold key, then wheeled
Eliza into the chamber beyond.
It was a small room, no more than eight by ten feet, with a
ten-foot ceiling. The walls were smooth concrete painted
the same depressing gray as all the other secret basement walls,
and with the same dark gray tile floor. Set in the center
of the ceiling was a single lighting fixture, the same as all
the others below ground. And dimly spotlighted under the
Eliza's eyes popped wide. "Mrrrf?" she remarked
(whined). It was a cage of steel bars—a rectangular cage
the size and shape of a coffin! Its bars were blued steel,
an inch in diameter, and spaced about four inches apart.
The top opened like a lid, and was secured by a hefty hasp and a
high-security padlock, also of blued steel. The cage
rested on a waist-high pedestal of smooth, gray concrete the
same shape as the barred enclosure.
Eliza continued watching (in horror) as Coco unlocked the
padlock, lifted the hasp, and opened the cage's lid on
well-oiled, heavy-duty hinges. Next, she folded down the
cage's long front panel, revealing a pad of natural, undyed
canvas and several dangling clips of some sort, all of blued
steel, like the cage, hinges, hasp, and padlock.
Coco's intentions were obvious. Eliza squirmed, twisted,
and fought her leather restraints and mewled through her
harness-gag—"Mrrr!"—as Coco released the wheelchair's pretty
blue straps, "helped" Eliza to her feet, then "helped" her
recline on the cage's pad.
Eliza continued fighting and complaining as Coco closed a series
of steel clips through the D-rings in the sides of Eliza's
jacket and leg-sleeve. Each clip had a rubber bungee-cord
sliding through a circular base-ring with each end of the cord
attached to a steel ring set in the base of the cage. That
is, when the clip was secured, the cord stretched in the form of
an inverted "V." As Coco worked her way down both sides of
Eliza's struggling form, engaging clip after clip, the
soon-to-be-sequestered prisoner's squirms became weaker and
weaker. The final result was a saw-tooth pattern of
stretched cords and clips pinning Eliza to the canvas pad.
She had a little wiggle-room, but not much.
Eliza continued mewling—"Mmmpfh!"—as Coco lifted the cage's
front panel and locked it in place—Click! Click!—then
closed the lid-like top—Thunk!—closed the hasp—Creee!—and
secured the padlock—Click!
Coco folded her arms under her breasts and smiled (gloated) down
at Eliza. "The weight of the lid locks the front panel in
place, so the padlock and hasp are what you might call the 'key
knot' of the cage. To escape, all you need to do is wiggle
out of the jacket and leg-sheath, then pick the lock, open the
hasp, and lift the lid."
Eliza tried to muster the spirit to glare at her captor, but was
finding it difficult. Coco's smile was... disturbing,
especially seen through the bars of the coffin-cage and lit by
the chamber's dim light.
"I think I'll take a nice swim," Coco announced. "I'll
come back and release you once Pepper and Tippi return from
town... after we wait a few hours to make sure the police aren't
following them home." She continued smiling at her
helpless young guest. "Hmm... I'm not sure I can think of
anything more... educational for tonight's
exercise. Perhaps I'll just leave you down here 'til
morning." She then turned and padded to the chamber's
thick steel door, closed and locked it behind her—Click!—and
Her heart pounding in her ears, Eliza panted through her
gag, her bare breasts heaving through the snug, gasket-like
openings in the straitjacket. She tried struggling, again,
but the bungee-cords tugged her back into place however she
tried to squirm.
Escape of any kind was impossible—not from the jacket and
leg-sheath, not from the cage, the chamber, or the subterranean
dungeon corridor beyond, much less the massive secret door
walling her off from the rest of the mansion. All Eliza
could do was... try and relax.
She was finding it difficult.
||Trying New Things