by Van © 2004
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actresses I would cast in a boxing kelly motion picture,
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Kelly filled the
funnel of her "timer" with exactly eight perfect ice cubes.
According to her previous experiments, they would melt to the
point that the scissor-clamp securing the friction clamp would release
sometime between 4:45 and 5 PM; more than enough time for her to
release herself and get ready for Dawn's arrival at 6 PM.
With a nervous sigh Kelly peeled off all of her clothes and carefully
put them away. She pattered into the bathroom
and relieved herself, rinsed her suddenly dry mouth, then gazed into
the mirror above the sink. The ball-gag was already dangling
around her throat like some absurd bauble. She lifted the pink,
unpainted sphere of rubber and placed it between her teeth, pulling the
rubber loop of the strap to the nape of her neck and under her hair.
She opened her jaw and wiggled her tongue, and the smooth,
of the strap snugged the ball even further into her mouth. Her
at her sides, she worked her lips and jaw muscles. She could
the ball slightly from side to side, could even force it out a fraction
of an inch, but as soon as she relaxed, it settled back into place.
She spoke around the pink intrusion. "Hell! Hel-ee!"
Her garbled plea for help sounded loud in the confined, tiled
space, but she knew herself to be adequately gagged. She picked
up her hairbrush, did a quick, unnecessary straightening of her hair,
then returned to the bedroom.
She'd already prepared the restraints on the bed. Each of the
cuffs awaiting her ankles and left wrist were lashed to the bedpost
rings with three strands of dark jade rope traveling from bedpost ring
to cuff ring; then numerous neat bands closely wrapped the strands like
the whippings a hangman's knot. The final knots were tied at the
bedpost rings with the free ends tucked neatly out of sight. The
rope for the right cuff was tied to the bedpost ring, pulled through
the cuff ring, back through the bedpost ring, through the cuff ring
back through the bedpost ring a final time, then up to the friction
locked in the bedpost's scissor-clamp. The remaining long free
end of the rope trailed back to the bed.
Kelly climbed onto the mattress. She did a crunch and secured her
right ankle, wrapping the soft, broad, leather cuff tight and making
sure the velcro closure was secure. Her left ankle followed, then
she lay flat on her back, wiggled and stretched herself until the ankle
ropes were taut, and reached for the left cuff. Securing her left
wrist was difficult. She'd wanted to stretch herself
as tautly as possible, but the lack of slack caused problems. She
finally succeeded in wrapping and securing the left cuff, then started
on the right. It was awkward, but the long free end of the rope
allowed her to accomplish the task.
Next came the tedious task of reeling in the slack. The rope from
the friction-clamp passed through her right hand and to her left.
She used her right to tug and pull on the rope, her left to pass
the slack to an untidy heap against the headboard. Eventually, as
the rope shortened, her right hand became less and less effective
and she shifted the work to her left. Every now and then she'd
pause and tug on her right cuff, gauging if her right arm was as tautly
stretched as her left. Kelly knew she had already passed
the point of no return, was already stretched to the point that it was
impossible for her to release herself; but she wanted to do this right.
The captive tugged and tugged with her left hand until the unaccustomed
action was threatening to make the muscles of her palm cramp. She
paused and tested the right cuff. It felt right. She
carefully gathered the bulk of the slack rope with her left hand and
tossed it towards the headboard. It thudded against the dark oak,
then slithered down the crack between the mattress and the bottom of
the board and out of sight. She released the section still held
in her right hand and it followed the rest.
Kelly closed her eyes... and slowly opened them. She was flat on
her back... naked... her arms and legs flung wide in a spread-eagle.
She lifted her head and looked. Tight cuffs captured her
wrists and ankles! She could feel a rubber ball strapped in her
mouth! "M'mmpfh!" She was gagged and bound and helpless!
"Hell! Hel-ee! HEEELL!" She knew no one was
going to hear her. She was far from rescue, and totally helpless.
She pulled on her bonds, but her arms remained outstretched, her
legs splayed wide, her sex and the rest of her naked body uncovered and
exposed. She moaned through her gag and continued struggling.
Oh God! Somebody help me!
Kelly could feel her sex getting wetter and wetter, but that thought
was far in the back of her mind. She was lost in her fantasy.
She was a prisoner, and eventually her captor would return and...
and reach out with strong, pale hands... and do things
to her. She had to escape! She had to get away!
Kelly pulled on her bonds with all her strength, then went limp,
panting and tossing her head, trying to clear the tousled curls from
her face. She was beginning to sweat, and her nipples were rock
hard. An orgasm was building. She could feel it.
Help me! It would be a long, slow climb, but eventually...
Oh please help me! She tugged on her bonds again,
using all the strength of her body on the left... then on the right.
Lost in the world of the kidnapped maiden, Kelly failed to notice
the very quiet metallic squeak or the fractional twist
her last effort had caused in the bedpost's scissor clamp.
Princess Kellan trudged towards the Rose Tower, her heart
hammering in her chest. She was still bound and gagged, lugging
Duana's pack, and linked by collar chain to her leather-clad captor.
As they came closer to the tangled thicket of roses surrounding
the ruined castle, she could see the vines were as thick as her thumbs,
some as thick as her wrists! Their thorns were like nothing she
had ever seen, all of them thick and sharp and long. Duana pulled
the magic key out from under her shirt and waved it towards the castle,
letting it dangle on its long silver chain.
The wind quickened, slowly building until Kellan's hair was
flailing about her head. It was a strange wind, hot and
dry, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Through the fluttering
mass of red curls, Kellan could see the rose bushes and vines thrashing
and swaying. As the caravan of two approached the green border,
the closest vines were waving in the wind like whips. Kellan
through her gag, but Duana pulled her collar chain taut and dragged her
Their feet were on the faint remnants of the road leading towards the
castle's ruined gate, and they had to step over rooted vines thick as
small tree trunks. Curiously, none of the wind driven branches or
vines brushing against them did any damage. Their fearsome
thorns were always drawn in a direction that rendered them harmless.
Kellan could feel them slide over her exposed skin and through
her hair, but they left not a single scratch or cut, nor did they
in her hair.
Maid Dallas' serving girl costume wasn't so lucky. By
the time they arrived in the vicinity of the gatehouse, it was hanging
from Kellan's body in ribbons, barely preserving a modicum of decency.
This was most distressing. Bound as she was, Kelly
do nothing to prevent her nipples from peeking between the tattered
of the ruined blouse.
This close to the heap of stones that was the castle, the rose bushes
were indeed trees, with trunks as thick as mature oaks with strong,
horizontal limbs, and their thorns were as long as daggers. The
air under the canopy was hot and still and heavy with the scent of
decay and the sweet perfume of rose blossoms. The light was
dappled and blue-green. The upper branches were still moving in
the wind, and all around
them the unnatural forest creaked and groaned. More than once
thought she heard a deep voice calling her name. She looked to
side, and beheld a skeleton in a set of antiquated armor. The
corpse's feet were trapped in thick roots, and more vines looped the
skeleton's armored arms and chest. Thorns had long since
punctured the ruined plate. A rusty ax with a badly notched blade
was by the fallen warrior's side. The visor of the helmet was
open, and a rose vine was growing out of the skull's right eye-socket.
The left socket was empty and staring.
Kellan caught movement from the corner of her eye, turned her head, and
mewed through her gag. An ant was clamoring
along a vine, coming towards them, and it was huge, its head
big as Kellan's fist, its body nearly the length of her forearm!
monster was a waxy red, dull and dark on its upper surfaces, bright as
blood below. There was more movement, and Kellan realized dozens
of the giant insects were following at a discrete distance
as Duana dragged her deeper and deeper into this terrible place.
Duana ignored Kellan's attempted warnings, tugged on her chain again,
and they were through the threshold of the gatehouse. The instant
they entered the dark, cavernous entrance, the wind stopped and the
ants turned, as if losing interest. Kellan turned to the front,
and perhaps thirty paces ahead she could see two squat columns
supporting an arch of stone blocks. Between was a pair of
massive, ironbound, timber doors. As they approached, Kellan could see
the timbers were rosewood, and the ornate ironwork was in the form of
stylized rose vines and they were bristling with lethal-looking
The doors opened on silent hinges, propelled by some unseen force.
Beyond was a dark corridor with many side passages. As
Duana dragged her along, Kellan looked nervously from side to side.
There wasn't enough light to see anything clearly, but things
were moving in the inky shadows, and she could see several pairs
of glowing eyes marking their progress; some large, some small, and
some closely spaced, as if a single watching head held several pair.
Kellan bit down on her gag and fought a rising sense of panic.
Another pair of doors opened, revealing a vast, torch lit, circular
chamber. It had a domed ceiling supported by tall, plain columns
spaced evenly along the walls. Opposite the door an ascending set
of steps led to a dais. On the dais, standing before a golden
throne, was a woman. She was clothed in a long, flowing robe of
red silk over a pleated gown of cloth-of-gold. Her hair was long
and straight, the color of sunbleached straw, and it flowed down her
back, nearly to the floor. Even from across the room, Kellan
tell the woman was very beautiful, the most beautiful woman
Kellan had ever seen in her young life.
They crossed the chamber to the steps. Duana grabbed a fistful of
Kellan's hair and forced her forward and to her knees. The bound
redhead mewed through her gag, lifted her chin, and gazed up at the
sorceress. The blonde beauty on the dais had to be the
Sorceress of the Rose Tower. She could be none other.
Duana cast the end of Kellan's chain to the floor, then put her
right hand on the pommel of her sheathed sword. "Your precious
princess," she announced, and released Kellan's hair. "My debt
is paid, and I demand my reward."
The sorceress slowly descended the steps, her silk cape billowing
behind, her gown parting as she walked, revealing her long, pale legs
and bare feet. She gazed into Kellan's eyes, a gloating smile on
her perfect lips, then shifted her gaze to Duana, and her smile became
hard. "I'll tell you when your task is complete, Sword Maiden.
sense a third life force. What else have you brought me?"
Duana opened the knapsack still on Kellan's back and rummaged until she
produced the magical shrinking trunk. She set it on the floor
several feet to the side, used the key to restore it to full size, and
unlocked the lid. She then reached inside, grabbed a handful of
dark blonde locks, and hauled Maid Dallas to her knees. The nude,
gagged, and thoroughly bound serving girl stared at her surroundings
terrified eyes. "No extra charge," Duana purred.
Kelly lay in her
bonds, basking in the afterglow of what had been one crashing orgasm.
was glistening with a film of sweat
and she was panting around her ball-gag and through her flaring
nostrils. She tugged weakly on her bonds, confirming that they
secure. She pulled harder on her left cuff, watching the muscles
of her arm bunch and glide under her flushed, glowing skin.
Kelly was getting a bit of a chill. She guessed she had at
least an hour to wait until her timer triggered the scissor-clamp and
she'd be able to free herself, but she'd just as soon take a hot shower
now, thank you. She's very cruel to leave
me like this, Kelly mused, fantasizing that Dawn Behr was the
of her predicament, and not Kelly herself. Tying me up
gagging me... playing with me until I cum... all so she can enjoy my
and embarrassment. The monster! By this time the sweat
had more or less evaporated and the chill was passing, but her nipples
were still hard and a sprinkling of gooseflesh covered her arms,
and thighs. She tugged on her inescapable bonds and moaned
her gag. Monster!
Maybe she'd have time to build to another explosion. Kelly
craned her neck and gazed up at her timer mechanism. She couldn't
gauge the progress of the melting of the ice cubes in the upper funnel,
or the amount of meltwater in the collection bottle. The cobalt
blue plastic bottles she had used may be stylish, but they might as
well be opaque black from this angle. Kelly didn't really mind.
turned her alarm clock so she couldn't see the
face. She'd rely on physics to set her free on time. In the
meanwhile... she was deliciously helpless, with no rescue in sight.
Monster! Kelly stretched and tugged on her bonds
yet again, then snuggled against the slightly damp, slightly ruffled
bed sheets, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
Kelly woke with
a start. Was that a sound? She listened for several
seconds... and decided her ears were playing tricks on her. She
still tied to her bed and gagged. The timer hadn't released, so
still must be at least an hour before Dawn was scheduled to arrive.
She gazed out the windows. The shadows seemed longer than
they should have been... as if it were later. She glanced up at
the timer and still couldn't gauge its progress. She pulled on
her cuffs, one by
one, then froze in her bonds. A sound... She'd
definitely heard something this time...
Then it was unmistakable—footsteps! Kelly craned her neck,
and Dawn Behr was at the bedroom door! She was dressed in a
sundress; white, with a subtle pattern of pale flowers. Her
expression was one of mild shock—which changed to a wolfish grin of
"Oh," Dawn purred. "That's why you didn't answer the
Kelly moaned through her gag in despair and pulled on her bonds,
her cheeks burning. She was beyond mortified.
was no word for the depth of her embarrassment.
Dawn walked to the bed and gazed at Kelly's timing device. "Very
clever," she said finally, and shifted her attention to the prisoner
on the bed. "The Brat used a bucket on the floor for her collector."
went to the rope passing through the friction clamp.
She thumbed the release and began pulling the long free end
through the clamp, but maintained the pressure on Kelly's right wrist
cuff. The captive tugged and pulled, but could do nothing to
prevent her guest, now captor, from tying a quick knot, then
whipping the rope around and around the strands linking the bedpost
ring and the cuff ring. Soon the arrangement was more or less
identical to the
other three cuffs: taut, neat, stylish, and with no possibility of
reaching any knots or releasing the cuff's velcro closures.
Dawn's hands traveled up to the bedpost hook. "Ah, I see
the problem," she purred. "Debbie discovered it as well...
under similar circumstances." She pointed at the scissor-clamp.
"Excess force will cause the clamp to rack to the side and bind.
Not every time... just now and then. All it takes to make
things right is a gentle shake of the hook." She did so, and the
now empty friction clamp fell to the floor.
This made no difference in Kelly's predicament, of course. She
was still spread-eagled and helpless... kidnapped for real!
And she was still blushing furiously; however, to her infinite
surprise, a thrill of pleasure coursed through her sex and
she shuddered in her bonds.
Dawn gazed down at Kelly's naked, stretched body, doing nothing to mask
her appreciation of the redhead's toned, athletic physique. Still
blushing furiously, Kelly slowly twisted her wrists in their tight
cuffs. A heartbreakingly piteous moan escaped her gag.
"Oh, Poor Baby," Dawn cooed, her expression amused but not
unkind. She turned
and strolled to the bathroom, then returned with a washcloth and guest
both in an earthy cinnamon color. With a mischievous grin she
the washcloth in half and draped it between Kelly's legs, covering
her pubic bush and sex, then folded the guest towel in half as well,
draped it across the prisoner's breasts. It covered Kelly's still
pointing nipples, but the upper, lower, and outside slopes of her
were still largely exposed. "There," she said. "Now you're
Kelly pulled on her bonds in mortified frustration, then went
when the motion threatened to make her new loin and breast coverings
from her naked body.
Clearly enjoying her new friend's situation, Dawn sat on the bed,
leaned forward, and straightened Kelly's red locks, gently combing them
to either side of her abashed, crimson face. "Such pretty hair,"
she whispered, idly twisting one long, copper-red curl between her
Dawn let her gaze wander over the sinuous details of Kelly's
form. Kelly shuddered under her captor's leering inspection,
to tug weakly on her cuffs. Dawn's gaze returned to Kelly's face,
and their eyes locked. "Well... I guess we need to talk," Dawn
finally, and reached for Kelly's gag.
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