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kitchen was ridiculously
for her purposes, but she could make it work. She'd done so many
times in the past. She dumped
the cans' contents in a small saucepan, carried it to the stove, and
turned on a
burner. Still totally naked, she used a wooden spoon to stir the
soup as it heated. When she first arrived in the kitchen she'd
opened a cabinet
that she would have sworn held a stack of tablecloths, figuring one
could be pressed into service as a sarong, but there was nothing there.
Her stomach growled and mouth watered as she continued
stirring. Steam began to rise and eventually the savory soup
simmer. Cynthia won't mind if
I go ahead and eat, she decided, and transferred a modest
portion to a
bowl. She turned off the stove, covered the pot to keep the soup
warm, then walked into the dining area and sat at a table.
Rachel had finished her
soup and was debating whether or not to lick the bowl when Cynthia
finally arrived—and with her was a stranger—a naked, female stranger!
The stranger had long brown hair plaited in a single
braid that trailed down her back, and she had the body of an athlete—a
well-endowed athlete. She was several inches taller than Cynthia
and Rachel guessed a little taller than herself.
She stood as the pair approached.
"Rachel," Cynthia said, presenting her companion, "this is Lillian
Steele. She's a courier for Salamandras
International. I'm afraid she walked into the middle of our...
"Dr. Haines," Lillian purred, extending her hand.
"Hi," Rachel responded. "I'm so sorry." Her eyes were on
her breasts, and the rest of her body. The courier's skin was
criss-crossed with pink ligature marks. "Are you okay?"
"She's fine," Cynthia huffed. "Lillian's
the one who triggered Smart Explorer and caused all this. She was
off a delivery, last Saturday, decided to use your desktop,
and accidentally triggered the Smart Explorer launch sequence."
favored Lillian with a disapproving look. "Snooping around other
people's desks... I guess it's
only fair she also got to
"Cynthia!" Rachel scolded. She hadn't released Lillian's hand,
and was using her left hand to gently caress Lillian's right
"It doesn't look too bad. The marks, I mean. You should rub
on some cortisone
ointment." Her eyes darted to Lillian's breasts, and a blush
her cheeks. "On all your marks," she added.
"I'm fine," Lillian answered, quietly.
Cynthia's eyebrows raised. Is
it my imagination, or is Lillian
Lillian noted Cynthia's expression. "Shut up," she muttered, then
turned towards the kitchen. "Sit," she ordered. "I'll get
Cynthia pulled out a chair and sat across from Rachel. Rachel was
still standing, watching Lillian's firm, dimpled rump as she
strolled towards the kitchen. Her blush deepened, and she sat.
"I have a lot to tell you," Cynthia said, "but there's no rush. I
know you're tired."
"I'm okay," Rachel answered. "Really. I am tired, but I'm okay."
"Brave girl," Cynthia smiled, reached across the table, and squeezed
Lillian was returning, carrying the saucepan and a second bowl and
She set the bowl in front of Cynthia and poured in a dollop of
soup. She then walked around the table and poured the remainder
Rachel's bowl, filling it nearly to the brim.
"What about you?" Rachel objected.
Lillian smiled and pulled a small, flat can from under her armpit, then
next to Rachel. It was a can of sardines in spring water.
covered." She lifted the ring on the lid and pulled it back, then
plucked out a sardine, lifting it by the tail,
between her thumb and forefinger. She let the water drip back
into the can
for a few seconds, then popped the little fish into her mouth.
Cynthia shook her head, then began consuming her soup. Rachel was
eating as well, with gusto, and Lillian continued popping sardines into
her mouth. Eventually, the meal was over. The finale was
Lillian tipping the sardine can and drinking the remaining water while
Cynthia looked on with mild disapproval.
"I don't suppose you have some spare clothing stashed somewhere,
do you?" Cynthia asked Rachel.
Before Rachel could answer, the many televisions mounted high on
the dining area's many concrete support columns flickered to
life and Sally's visage smiled down at them. "I can answer
that. I've conducted a security camera inventory of the
entire building, cross-referencing Smart Explorer's activity
located your purses and phones. They're
intact; however, every
stitch of clothing and square inch of loose cloth has been
processed into raw material for rope and straps. Wait 'til
see the list of 'entertainments' Smart Explorer was compiling."
"More?" Rachel gasped.
"Much more," Sally
confirmed. "If I hadn't intervened,
I'm afraid you two might not have survived beyond the end of the
week. Smart Explorer
is an impressive piece of programming, but keeping specimens alive
wasn't a high priority. I can tell you never
intended it to gather biological samples, Dr. Haines."
"That's true," Rachel responded, "and thank you... for the
"You're welcome," Sally smiled, then focused on Cynthia. "A pity
this building doesn't have security on a par with
all other Salamandras
facilities. If the labs and corridors had been under routine
surveillance, all of this would have been avoided."
"We'll discuss it later," Cynthia responded. "So," she sighed,
"what do we do about the clothing problem?" She glanced out the
dining area's window walls. The sun was beginning to set.
"I suppose we can wait
'til after dark and drive
home in the nude."
"That might work for you," Lillian purred, "but I'd be pretty
conspicuous, streaking along on my bike."
"Not to worry," Sally chuckled. "I've already ordered clothing
costume shop. The courier will be arriving—" The avatar
glanced at her simulated watch. "—in about five minutes.
have to go down and sign for the delivery."
"I'll do it," Lillian said, rising from her chair. She turned and
headed for the elevator, leaving Cynthia and Rachel staring at her
"She's really something," Rachel sighed.
Cynthia opened her mouth to answer, but instead focused on the closest
many images. "So... Dr. Sally Muse, would you like to
start explaining your true nature to Rachel, or should I?"
"I might as well," Sally said, smiling at the suddenly very confused
The Speedy-Express!® van
pulled up in front of the
Salamandras building. The driver was a cute little blonde in her
twenties. She had a
pageboy haircut and was dressed in a uniform of work boots, shorts,
ball-cap, all in the company colors of slate-gray with the
company logo prominent on the cap and shirt. She
opened the back of the van and readied the three flat boxes listed on
the invoice, then turned to face the building... and frowned. The
seven story edifice appeared to be completely deserted. There was
motorcycle parked nearby,
but all the windows facing the parking lot were dark, including the
lobby. She checked
her clipboard, verifying the address.
Suddenly, the front doors opened and a female emerged, a naked female!
It was Lillian, of course. She sauntered up to the courier.
"Evening," she said, smiling brightly.
Her eyes wide with amazement, the blonde presented the clipboard and a
pen. "Uh, good evening. Please sign here."
Lillian scrawled a signature in the space marked with the "X", then
returned the clipboard. She then hefted the boxes and turned
The blonde continued to stare... at Lillian's perfectly proportioned,
athletic, naked form.
Lillian looked back over her shoulder as she walked away.
"Salamandras International has a very
casual dress code," she explained,
then disappeared through the automatic doors.
The blonde sighed, shook her head, closed the van doors, and returned
to the driver's
seat. Nobody is going to
believe this back at the office, she thought, and turned the
Lillian returned to the cafeteria she noted the
strange expression on Rachel's face and glanced at Cynthia.
Cynthia smiled. "She just learned Sally isn't really Sigourney Weaver.
She has a
lot to think about."
"And a lot of programming to examine," Rachel added. "I've got to
really understand this."
Cynthia patted her hand. "All in good time."
Lillian put the boxes on the table, then gently settled a hand on
"Don't worry about it, kid," she said. "Sally's good people, even
if she is a computer
Cynthia smiled. Is it my
imagination, or is Lillian treating
Rachel like a little sister—as opposed to the latest addition to her
roster of damsels in need of distress?
Rachel lifted her gaze to Lillian and smiled. "It's a lot to
take in, technically. It's... amazing. It's a miracle."
"If you guys need me," Sally said, smiling down from the monitors,
"just shout." With that, the televisions went dark.
Cynthia shook her head. "My god, I think she was blushing." She
grinned at Rachel. "Sally is a
Lillian was checking the labels on the boxes. She slid one over
Cynthia and smiled. "That one is for you." She picked up a
and stepped back, then nodded at the third box. "And that's
Cynthia opened her box, folded back overlapping layers of white
paper, then frowned. "Oh,
French Maid's costume, a short-skirted, short-sleeved, black dress with
lace trim on the hems of the sleeves, skirt, and neckline. The
box also contained a white apron, a
white lace uniform cap, and a pair
of black high heels.
"Well, I can't wear it,"
Lillian chuckled. "I'm
not a munchkin." She nodded at Rachel. "And neither is she."
Rachel opened her box and found a serving wench's costume: white,
shoulders blouse—a black bodice—a short, blue skirt—and a pair of
high heeled sandals.
Lillian's box contained a metal bikini and a floor length loincloth of
burgundy silk. "Oh, goodie!" she laughed. "Princess Leia as
Jabba the Hutt's slut-slave! It's a good copy, too, and according
to the invoice, I get to keep it. We all do.
Sally bought them. They're not
"Wonderful," Cynthia muttered.
They began donning their costumes, and in short order... the diminutive
maid, saucy wench, and barely legal princess were standing and
admiring (or glowering at) each other.
"It fits perfectly!" Lillian said, smiling broadly. "Even the
boots and bracelet and collar and hair thingie."
"Here, let me help," Rachel said, stepping behind Lillian and adjusted
the headpiece, resetting the hairpins. "Good thing you
already have the braid," Rachel said, stifling a yawn. She
snapped the costume's supplied clip around the end of Lillian's braid,
Lillian lifted her arms and performed a graceful pirouette. "How
do I look?"
"You look great!" Rachel gushed, then spread her arms. "How 'bout
"Umm..." Frowning in concentration, Lillian reached out and untied the
laces securing the front of the bodice. "Inhale," she ordered,
then gave the laces a sharp tug, tightening the constriction of
the garment. The bodice wasn't a true corset, of course, but it
Rachel's waist with a more enthusiastic embrace. Next, Lillian
the lace securing the front of the blouse, loosened the
retied the bow. "There." She
grinned at Rachel's blushing face. "You can bring me a flagon of
ale anytime," she chuckled,
then turned to Cynthia. "Doesn't she make a saucy wench?"
"Saucy as hell," Cynthia huffed. Her costume's skirt was short,
almost a mini-skirt, and underneath were multiple layers of white
that lifted it off her thighs. Also, thanks to the generous scoop
front, she was showing as much cleavage as Rachel,
if not more.
"Ooh la la!" Lillian chuckled, then looked into the open box. "No
"Shut up," Cynthia muttered. "We've going to my place and we'll
take my car." Rachel started to object and Cynthia
silenced her with an imperious gesture. "No, you're coming home
me. You get the guest room—" she focused on Lillian. "—and
you get the couch."
"You don't have to baby me," Rachel objected. "I'm
fine." Suddenly, her eyes popped wide. "Oh!" she
gasped, staring at Cynthia. "The costumes! Sally has a
sense of humor!"
"Allegedly," Cynthia growled. "We'll discuss the sophistication
of Sally's avatar in detail, later. For now, we're all taking the
week off," she decreed, focusing on Rachel. "You're
exhausted. You need some proper sleep and several good meals."
"My, my," Lillian purred. "Aren't we the mother hen?"
"Shut it!" Cynthia muttered, then kissed Rachel's cheek and took her
hand. "Let's go." She started towards the elevator, taking
the blushing Rachel with her.
"Ooh la la," Lillian chuckled, again. She snatched the uniform
cap and apron from Cynthia's box, then followed in their wake. "I
guess I'll have to buy you a feather duster, myself," she purred.
the door to the guest room open and peered inside.
The room was dark, but there was enough moonlight for Cynthia to make
out Rachel's slumbering form on the
bed. She had retired in the nude, as Cynthia had nothing in
her wardrobe big enough
to serve as a nightie for her guest. Rachel was on her side, her
on a pillow and her right shoulder and arm free of the tangled
covers. Cynthia smiled. She'd practically had to peel
a semiconscious Rachel out of the
serving wench outfit, once she saw the soft bed. She'd been
perfectly willing to use the costume as a nightie, tight bodice and
Cynthia would have none of it. The costume in question was draped
over a nearby chair, and its owner was fast asleep.
Cynthia eased the door closed and padded towards her own
bedroom. She was wearing a seldom used cotton robe. It was
a Mexican blanket print, bold stripes and geometric shapes,
predominantly in shades of blue. She eased her bedroom door
Lillian—a naked, grinning Lillian—was lying on the bed, on her back
with her arms raised and head cradled in her hands.
"Get off my bed," Cynthia huffed.
"The couch is lumpy," Lillian chuckled.
"Liar," Cynthia muttered, and peeled off her robe. "I've slept on
it, myself. Get out!"
Lillian slowly shook her head. "I like it here. She spread
her arms and legs in a luxurious, full-body stretch.
"Arrrrrrgh! That shower really hit the spot." She smiled at
Cynthia as she cupped her breasts—her own
breasts. "Look." She gave her breasts a
shake. "The marks are almost gone."
"Get out!" Cynthia ordered, again.
"Not gonna happen, Little Mouse," Lillian responded, then patted the
unoccupied half of the bed. "C'mon. Keep me warm."
Naked and hands on hips, Cynthia stared daggers at Lillian.
"C'mon," Lillian cooed. "Come to bed, or I'll find some rope and
tie you to it."
"You promised you wouldn't, remember?" Cynthia's lips curled in a
half-sneer, half-smile. "Maybe I
ought to get some rope and tie you up."
"In your dreams, Little Mouse," Lillian chortled. "In your
"You think I don't know how to tie a knot?" Cynthia demanded.
"You can't tie a knot that will hold me,"
"Ha!" Now Cynthia's expression
was all smile. "I bet I can." She crossed her arms across
bet I can tie you up and you won't escape."
"And if I do?"
Cynthia thought for several seconds. "If you do escape," she said,
finally, "once Rachel goes home, you can tie me up any way you want."
"Whenever I want," Lillian added, "and for as long as I want... once
Rachel goes home."
Cynthia nodded. "Tomorrow
night. I'm tired."
Lillian shook her head. "Now or never, Little Mouse. Now or
"All right, then," Cynthia huffed, and went to the closet for some
rope. "Sit up and put your hands on your head."
Smiling confidently, Lillian followed her diminutive "captor's" order.
Cynthia had used the classic box-tie, applied over a kikkou harness that
criss-crossed Lillian's torso, yoked her shoulders, framed her
passed through her crotch with a strand to either side of her labia
but not cleaving her
pussy. The box-tie, itself, pinned her arms to
her torso and lashed her forearms behind her back from elbows to
wrists. In addition, several strands of the box-tie were cinched
through the underlying harness. Also, Lillian's legs were bound
together above and below the knees and around the
ankles. None of the ropes were particularly tight, but all were
well-placed, and the key knots of the kikkou
harness and box-tie were
well beyond the reach of Lillian's questing fingers. Finally,
lengths of rope had been hitched through her
ankle bonds and the ropes yoking her shoulders, then tied to the bed's
foot rail and headboard, respectively.
"You little bitch," Lillian complained. "You've been practicing."
Cynthia stretched, rolled over to face her pouting prisoner, and
propped herself up on one elbow. "Temper, temper, young
lady. Sally didn't tell you Kiera and
I worked together to hone our escapology skills?" She reached out
and gently caressed Lillian's left breast. "Not that it did us
any good, of course... not when Lillian Steele was in town."
"You and Little Red used to tie each other up?" Lillian asked.
"That's kinda hot. Maybe I should start calling you Kinky Little Mouse. And in
answer to your question, no, Sally didn't tell me." She
frowned. "Wait! How would Sally know about it?"
Cynthia smiled. "Nice try. Do you really think I don't know Sally
has this place bugged?" She glanced at her alarm clock.
"Oh, look. More than an hour has passed. I guess I dozed
off." She yawned and stretched, again.
"Okay," Lillian muttered, "you win."
"You acknowledge my skill with rope?"
Lillian sighed. "I acknowledge your skill with rope."
Cynthia grinned, then rolled over, opened the drawer of her bedside
table, and pulled out a roll of Elastoplast tape and a pair of bandage
scissors. She then lifted a leg over Lillian's bound body and
settled her weight on the captive's firm, flat tummy.
"Oof!" Lillian watched as Cynthia peeled a long, wide strip
of tape from the roll and snipped it free. "Overweight Kinky Little Mouse,"
she groused. "No, that's too much to remember. I'll stick
with Little Mouse."
Cynthia smiled, leaned close, and planted a kiss on Lillian's smiling
lips. They locked eyes, and the kiss turned into a long, wet,
lip-smacking and tongue-rolling kiss.
Finally, Cynthia broke the kiss. She then smiled and stretched
the tape over Lillian's
lips. "There. Nice and quiet. Just to be fair, I've
decided to give you more time to escape my ropes. However, I am tired, so please
keep the squirming to a minimum. That said..."
off Lillian, returned the roll of tape and scissors to the drawer,
and pulled out a vibrator. Opalescent blue-gray, it was long,
thin, and streamlined, as much a missile as a phallus. Cynthia
rolled over and snuggled close to Lillian's helpless form.
"I'm not that tired."
Cynthia twisted the vibrator's base and it began to buzz.
Wonderful, Lillian sighed,
then flinched when Cynthia began teasing her nipples with the tip of
the vibrator. It had been a long time since Lillian Steele had
been on the receiving end of this sort of thing, and most of those
times had been situations in which she'd fallen into the hands of rival
"security experts." It didn't happen very often, but even she
couldn't win every round of
the game. However, this was the first time Lillian had allowed herself to be
Little Mouse, she mused. Maybe
certainly don't dis-like her.
Lillian shivered and closed
her eyes as Cynthia continued teasing her nipples... the slopes of her
bulging breasts... and her stomach, tracing the dimples outlining her
abs. Her diminutive captor then eased the tip between her closed
thighs and nudged her labia, twisting and sliding it an inch deep into
her pussy—and yes, as Lillian was humiliatingly aware, the pussy in
question was wet
enough to facilitate the intrusion.
Lillian squirmed and twisted and fought the ropes. The doubled
her ankles to the foot of the bed snapped taut as she tried to lift her
vibrator was on low, and she could tell it would not be enough to
an orgasm, not anytime soon. But
Lillian knew what was coming. Little Mouse would tease her for a
then turn up the power and really start
good and ready,
Cynthia would grant her a nice, satisfying multi-O.
Lillian wasn't angry, not even a little. This was fun. She
was learning things about the good doctor, and about herself.
There would be time enough to balance the books—that is, to implement Lillian Steele's version of
balancing the books. A great deal of spectacularly
complicated rope-work would be involved, as well as extended multiple
Little Mouse boinking.
The teasing buzz of the vibrator continued... but Lillian realized
Cynthia was no longer sliding the tip against her clit or sliding her naked self against
her side. In fact, Cynthia wasn't sliding anything against
Lillian opened her eyes and lifted her head. Cynthia was still
holding the vibrator and was snuggled
against her side, but her eyes were closed and a blissful smile graced
her angelic face. Lillian sighed through her gag and let her head
drop. She's asleep. I
don't believe it.
The vibrator was still throbbing and its tip still parted her
labia Lillian knew she could probably dislodge the damn
thing, but not without waking up Little Mouse. She lifted her
head, again, and focused on Cynthia's smiling face.
The moonlight streaming through the window glinted off the tan skin of
the naked scientist's face, shoulders, upper back, and arm. She
little girl, Lillian thought. An innocent little girl. My precious
Little Mouse is tuckered out. But just you wait, Little
Mouse. Get your beauty sleep. You're going to need it.
Lillian stared up at the dark ceiling as the lambent, titillating waves
through her pussy. It's
nothing. Nothing. 'That which does not kill us, makes us
stronger.' Or, in this case, that which does not get us off,
AT THE SAME TIME
fifth floor of the Salamandras building, the
automated factory was a beehive of activity.
cut, drilled, and bent as manipulator arms
lifted and turned the various components being fabricated. Sparks
flew as parts were welded together. Whirring arms fitted circuit
together and soldered
Yet other arms were fitting together sub-assemblies, making delicate
adjustments. They all moved with careful precision and perfect
Sally was making toys.