|TALES OF THE FOXWOOD B&B
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The maids untied the ropes lashing Hannah and Jillian to their
chairs and the ropes binding their legs; however, antique-gold,
satin-finish sash cord still pinned their arms to their sides
and yoked their bare shoulders. Hannah's diamond-studded
cuff-bracelets still locked her wrists together behind her back
and Jillian's still bound hers in front. In addition, they
still wore satin-white tape-gags with painted-on lips, red in
Hannah's case and coral for Jillian. Nooses around their
throats, the captives were led from the parlor and through the
back corridors of the manor.
They climbed a set of stairs and Hannah scrambled to keep
pace. Jillian only had to deal with the train of her gown,
but Hannah's steps were restricted by the thin chains linking
her thigh-strap garters and ankle-cuff slippers. The
journey wasn't too difficult, but the little black-haired bitch
of a maid kept a tight grip on Hannah's leash and quite
literally cut her no slack.
The parade of four reached a wide hallway. The blonde maid
leading Her Ladyship opened a door and they entered a large,
Caroline was in the process of being undressed by a dark-haired
maid Jillian recognized as Polly and Hannah recognized as the
unknown maid on the video-recording who had shared the burden of
boinking Sydney with Jaclyn and Patricia. Her hair still
up, Caroline's costume was already reduced to frilly knickers,
corset, and stockings. "I've changed my mind about the
blonde," she drawled, indicating Hannah with a dismissive
gesture. "Take her to bed with you. Best use the
crib, so she doesn't wander off before morning." She
smiled at Jillian. "Leave the ginger trollop."
Caroline whispered additional instructions in the blond maid's
ear, then turned her back and Polly began unlacing her corset.
Both handler-maids turned and led Hannah from the bedroom.
She locked eyes with Jillian— "M'rrmfh!" —then was
across the threshold. The door closed and she sighed
through her gag. They retraced their steps to a door at
the far end of the hallway and passed through to yet another set
of stairs. Hannah climbed with mincing, hobbled steps...
and finally they came to the top landing. Beyond another
door was a very large room with neat rows of beds, bedside
chairs and tables, and wardrobes. It was an attic, with
exposed rafters and steeply sloped walls punctuated by garret
More than a dozen maids were present, all in various stages of
undress. Apparently, there was a bathroom nearby, for two
of the maids were wearing robes and had their hair wrapped in
"Ooo! It's the blonde from the party!" a maid cooed, and
the others crowded close.
Hannah squirmed and tugged on her bonds. It was the
ballroom all over again, only the maids were much more grabby
than the aristocrats they'd served. Where the elegantly
gowned guests had stroked and caressed Hannah's body through her
scandalously transparent costume, the giggling maids squeezed,
fondled, and even goosed her
"Now, now," the blonde holding Hannah's leash laughed.
"Back off, you lot!"
"Who died and made you queen?" one of her fellow maids giggled.
"Mistress Saunders' orders," the blonde explained. "This
one gets a nice, restful night in the crib."
"Nooo!" Hannah's domestic admirers complained.
"Where will Chloe sleep?" one of them asked.
"She can share my bed,"
offered, and the others giggled.
"We'll flip for it," another suggested, and the giggle-fest
Hannah was pulled free from her latest crowd of admirers and led
the length of the attic. Soon, she was staring at what was
obviously "the crib". It was a bed, the same as the
others, but its frame was, in essence, a cage of closely spaced
bars. It did somewhat resemble typical infant
furniture. The bars were turned dowels and the whole thing
was painted white; however, the high-security padlock securing
the bolt assembly was anything but typical—unless
the crib was intended for baby tigers.
Hannah stood in silent cooperation as the end of her tether was
tied to a corner of the crib and the blond maid began the
process of untying her bonds and removing her clothing.
The black-haired maid with the "Tesla-stingulator" watched, a
coy smile curling her lips. Her hand was in her apron
pocket, ready to produce her shocking device if Hannah gave them
Eventually, Hannah was nude but for the leash still tied around
her throat and the strip of tape over her lips. Even the
humiliating ribbons tied around her nipples and through her
pubic hair, the jewel in her navel, and her
chastity-belt/belly-chain had been removed. Finally, the
blonde peeled the tape from Hannah's lips.
Hannah stood and glared at the grinning maids, her hands at her
sides and balled into tight fists. Several maids were
watching, sitting on their beds or chairs or standing in front
of open wardrobes, brushing their hair and donning nightgowns.
The blonde untied Hannah's leash, and for the first time since
being brought to Silverberry, she was completely free—nude, but
completely free. The blonde gestured towards a
doorway. "The powder room," she explained. "Why
don't you freshen up and come right back?"
"Yeah?" Hannah growled as she lifted her right fist. "Why
"Now, now," the black-haired maid interrupted, pulling the
Tesla-stingulator from her pocket. "Rude young ladies get
tucked into bed in a most uncomfortable
to teach them manners."
Still glaring, Hannah spun on her heel and stomped (padded)
through the door and into the powder room. A maid was
taking a shower at one end, and a row of toilet stalls occupied
the other. Hannah emptied her bladder, then went to one of
the row of sinks, washed her hands, and splashed water on her
face. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her blond
hair was a tousled mass of wavy curls, very... girlie. "I
look ridiculous," she muttered.
The now clean maid had wrapped a towel around her torso and was
preening in the mirror next to Hannah. She turned with a
friendly smile, leaned close, and kissed Hannah on the
cheek. "I think you look beautiful," she giggled, "like
Who the hell is 'Sweet
Gwendoline'? Hannah wondered as she watched her latest
fan depart. The towel-wrapped maid was a few years younger
than Hannah, with green eyes and a dusting of freckles across
her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, her shoulders, and
between her breasts. She's
cute, Hannah decided. They're all cute, and they're all young.
She stared at the mirror, again. Could be worse. I could be down in the
basement, locked in one of Mad Scientist Patricia's holding
cells, or strapped to her Orgasmo-blah-blah-blah machine.
For all Hannah knew, that would be her fate, tomorrow. But
for tonight... Could be
Hannah came back into the main dormitory to find a half-dozen
maids in nightgowns gathered around the crib. As she came
near, they began hugging her nude body and kissing her blushing
cheeks. Might as well
put up with it, she decided.
"Good night, Hannah," they cooed, one by one. One of the
crib's side-panels had been opened and the bed's covers turned
down, and they helped her slip between the cool sheets.
They know my name,
Hannah realized, as the maids pulled the top covers up to her
chest. Then, the crib was closed, the bolt assembly
engaged, and the padlock snapped shut. Click!
The maids turned away. Most went to their beds and settled
in for the night. The remainder continued their
preparations. One by one, bedside lamps clicked off, and
the attic grew dark. Only a few glowing nightlights
remained, providing soft illumination.
Hannah pulled the covers to her chin and sighed. It's a madhouse, she
then... A huge yawn escaped her lips. ...so is Foxwood.
More maids continued to arrive, still wearing their black and
white uniforms. Hannah assumed they were the very last to
be relieved of their duties for the night. They clicked on
their lamps, undressed, and got ready for bed; but they were
quiet and considerate of their slumbering fellows.
Hannah closed her eyes. Sydney,
she thought. What am I
going to do with you? Eventually, she drifted
off to sleep.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B: AMoM
In fact, she didn't think she'd been asleep for very long.
A diminutive maid was shuffling down the center isle of the
dormitory, weeping softly and wiping her eyes. She was
tiny, only five feet in height, if that. At first, Hannah
thought she was a teenager, but as she drew closer, she decided
the pixie was in her twenties, like the other maids, and was
just... short. Her straight hair was black and cut in a
Lulu bob. It's the maid
who was about to get her butt whipped, Hannah
realized. As the sniffling pixie drew near the crib, three
of the maids left their beds and gathered around her.
"What's wrong, Chloe?" one of them cooed, kissing the newcomer's
flushed, wet cheek.
"They-they-they-spanked and whipped me," the little maid sobbed.
"Ooo..." The others kissed and embraced Chloe.
"She's in my bed," Chloe accused, pointing at Hannah and the
"Mistress' orders," one of the maids whispered, and kissed the
trembling Chloe's lips. "C'mon, you can sleep with
me." She led Chloe towards her bed.
One of the other maids smiled at Hannah. "Go back to
sleep, Hannah," she whispered.
Hannah watched through the bars as Chloe was helped out of her
uniform. Soon, she was nude, and her fellow maids were
examining her buttocks.
"Poor thing," one of them cooed.
"I'll get some ointment," another whispered, and scampered away.
Chloe was helped onto the bed and she stretched out on her
stomach. She whined in distress, then sighed as ointment
was gently applied to her naked rump and the firm globes were
massaged by her fellow maids.
"It's not too bad," one whispered.
"Only a very few
marks," another added. "It's pink and warm, but not too
The maid whose bed it was peeled off her nightgown and climbed
onto the bed next to Chloe.
"Good night, Chloe; Goodnight, Mary," the other maids whispered
as they kissed the pair on the bed, pulled up the covers, and
returned to their own beds.
mused. Her name is Mary.
"Mary!" Chloe hissed. "Stop!"
"Hush, Munchkin," Mary whispered back. "I'm just making
you feel better."
"You'll wake the others—Oooo! I'll wake the others."
"Not if I stuff my knickers in your mouth and tie your hands
with my hair ribbon," Mary whispered.
Hannah smiled. She couldn't help herself. The
glinting eyes and stifled giggles from the other beds told
Hannah she wasn't the only member of Chloe and Mary's audience.
"Oh, Mary!" Chloe whispered.
Hannah watched the covers of Mary's bed quiver and shake.
As if by its own will, Hannah's right hand found her crotch, and
she began to slowly slide the edge of her palm against her
"Quiet, you little weasel," Mary chuckled. "I really will
gag you, if you make me."
Hannah continued frigging herself, even as Mary (apparently)
frigged Chloe—but despite the erotic, dimly lit and blanket
shrouded spectacle visible through the bars of her crib—Hannah
drifted off to sleep, again.
Sometimes nervous exhaustion trumps pleasure.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B: AMoM
Earlier, in Caroline's bedroom...
Jillian watched as Hannah and the
two maids made their exit. The door closed, and she turned
to face Caroline and Polly. Caroline was now nude, but for
the stockings Polly was rolling down her white legs.
Finally fully nude, Caroline walked to her dressing table and
began removing her jewelry. "See to Lady Foxwood," she
Polly curtsied and went to Jillian. "Madam," she said, and
began untying Jillian's rope bonds. In a surprisingly
short time, Jillian was as nude as Caroline, but for her gloves,
her diamond-studded and ruby-padlocked cuff-bracelets, her
pastel, rust-red opera gloves, the satin-white tape-gag with its
coral, painted-on lips, and her borrowed jewelry. Her hair
was still up.
Jillian stood and watched as Polly puttered around, putting
things away and turning down the bed.
Caroline was also watching, in the mirror, as she brushed her
long, dark hair. "You may retire for the evening, Polly,"
she said, as the smiling maid fluffed the pillows.
"Is madam sure she wouldn't like me to bind her guest to the
bed," Polly suggested, "or perhaps secure her to the lacing
"Go," Caroline chuckled.
"Hogtie her on the floor? Tie her across a chair with her
naked tushie up in the—"
"Polly!" Caroline warned.
The maid curtsied, not bothering to disguise the saucy smile
curling her lips, and quietly made her exit.
"The little minx was hoping for a repeat of this afternoon,"
Caroline said, winking at Jillian, "but sometimes I do need to put my foot
Jillian walked over to the dressing table, placed her loosely
cuffed, gloved hands on Caroline's white shoulders, and began a
Caroline smiled with pleasure, closing her pale-blue eyes.
"I'd forgotten your magic fingers," she sighed, shivering with
delight. She let Jillian continue for several seconds,
then rose from the bench. "Sit," she ordered.
Jillian complied, and Caroline removed her guest's jewelry,
pulled the pins from her hair, then unlocked her
cuff-bracelets. Jillian rolled down and removed her
gloves, then reached for her tape-gag.
"Let me," Caroline purred, and lifted Jillian's chin. They
locked eyes as Caroline, slowly, gently peeled the tape from
Jillian's lips. The adhesive surrendered with great
reluctance, stretching the redhead's mouth as it released its
And then, of course, they kissed. Lips smacked, tongues
entwined, and they found themselves on their feet and arms
around each other, their breasts, stomachs, and thighs pressed
together. The pair evoked the painting they'd posed for,
so long ago—the painting in the bedroom where Jillian first
awoke after her kidnapping—the painting that told her she was
back at Silverberry.
Finally, the kiss ended.
"Polly won't be back 'til morning?" Jillian asked.
Caroline chuckled. "She knows that if she does, I'll deal
with her most harshly."
"What would you do?" Jillian whispered, and kissed Caroline
again, this time using her white teeth to gently tug on her
kidnapper's lower lip before releasing her hold.
"I'd make her watch our lovemaking, all night." Caroline
kissed Jillian's right ear.
"Tied to a chair?" Jillian muttered, "like this afternoon?"
"No," Caroline answered, "from the Secret Throne. Polly hates the Secret Throne."
"Who doesn't?" Jillian kissed Caroline, again.
"Okay, I'll bite." And she did, gently, and this time it
was Caroline's left earlobe. "What is the 'Secret
Caroline grinned, broke the embrace, and strolled to a
shoulder-height cabinet built into the wall opposite the foot of
the massive, four-poster bed. It had two panel doors with
elaborately framed mirrored glass inserts, and above, a single
horizontal drawer, also with a decorative mirror. She
thumbed a hidden switch, a motor hummed, and the cabinet
The horizontal drawer flipped up and the lower panels opened to
either side; however, rather than being the simple wooden
portals Jillian had expected, they were at least a foot thick,
with sloping sides and numerous retracted bolts. More the
doors of a safe than furniture, the three parts obviously locked
together into one very solid unit when the cabinet was closed.
Stranger yet, a large, bulky object was emerging from the
cabinet on a metal track supported by heavy lever arms. As
it cleared the cabinet doors, it opened like a clam shell,
revealing a chair constructed from thick, wooden timbers.
Numerous leather straps dangled from its arms, back, seat, and
"As you can see," Caroline said, pointing at the deep, narrow
slots in the horizontal section of the outer cabinet and the
inner shell, " the top panel is a one way mirror, so the
occupant of the Throne—" She indicated the chair with a
sweeping gesture. "—has an unobstructed view of the
bed. The mirrors below are mere decoration." She sat
in the chair and buckled one of the straps, securing her left
wrist to the left armrest. "The chair is unpadded.
The inner encasement is inches thick and banded with steel, with
only an inch or two of clearance for the occupant. The
entire arrangement is as secure as a bank vault."
Jillian smiled, strolled to the chair, and kissed Caroline's
lips. She then took hold of Caroline's right wrist and
strapped it to the right armrest.
Caroline didn't resist, but simply watched, a smile curling her
Jillian examined the chair. "I see straps for the lower
and upper arms, three straps for the torso, and straps for the
thighs, knees, calves, and ankles, as well a neck strap and a
gag-panel... or is it an integrated harness-gag?"
"Harness-gag," Caroline confirmed. "It completely
immobilizes the head. Also, if you'll examine the inner
encasement, the network of holes in the breast pockets house
retractable, needle-sharp spikes, and the center cavities
conceal nipple-stretching clips on spring-loaded chains."
She nodded at her lap. "The seat conceals vibrating,
penetrating probes, and it can be electrified."
"All computer controlled, of course," Jillian chuckled.
"Oh no!" Caroline said, gravely. "It's randomly modulated
by a Gibson Difference Engine down in the basement."
"I stand corrected," Jillian purred, then took a step back and
smiled. "So... once Polly's wrists are secured, you buckle
the remaining straps, as tight as possible, set the controls to
torment her naked, helpless body through the long, dark hours of
the night, trigger the mechanisms that encase her in the
claustrophobically tight embrace of the inner and outer
shells—and then climb into your warm, comfortable bed and sleep
like the proverbial baby?"
Caroline nodded. "With Polly gazing at her slumbering
mistress through the thick glass of the view-port as the
machines work their magic. Did I mention the night vision
Jillian smiled, reached down and unbuckled Caroline's right
wrist, then strolled to the bed and climbed between the covers.
Caroline unbuckled her left wrist, stood, and triggered the
Secret Throne's main switch. The motor hummed, the chair
slid back, the inner shell closed and retracted, and the outer
doors closed. She then strolled to the bed. "When we
were youngsters, you would have strapped me into that thing so
tight I couldn't squirm, and set everything to maximum torment."
"With maturity comes wisdom," Jillian purred, "and restraint
takes on all its
"A lesson your little sister has yet to learn," Caroline smiled.
Jillian nodded. "I believe Hannah can help her in that
department." She held open the covers, and Caroline joined
her in bed.
Caroline locked eyes with her guest, and smiled. "Will
Hannah require special handling to keep her on board?"
"Now you ask," Jillian
laughed, and kissed her hostess. "Unless I'm very much
mistaken, I think we'd have to sell Hannah and Sydney to
billionaires on opposite sides of the globe to keep them
apart. All we have to do is bring them back together and
get out of the way."
"Hannah doesn't need to get talked down?"
"Maybe," Jillian conceded, "a little... but we can discuss that
Caroline pulled Jillian into her arms. "If you insist."
Kissing, more kissing,
and other intimate activity ensued, and eventually... sleep.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B: AMoM
very early for about
half the maids. Presumably, they were the shift
responsible for helping Caroline's guests with their morning toilettes and/or were
involved in breakfast preparations. The remainder slept
until the first rays of dawn reached the garret windows, and
Hannah was allowed to "sleep in" with them.
Eventually, the others rose, made their beds, removed their
nightgowns, donned terrycloth robes, and headed for the
Hannah watched from the crib.
"What about her?" one of the maids asked, nodding at Hannah as
"What about her?"
another responded, and they all giggled.
Hannah watched as the bathroom door closed. She heaved a
deep sigh. They'd let her out... eventually.
The bathroom door opened again, immediately, and a dozen
giggling maids padded to the crib. "Just kidding," one of
them said. The crib was unlocked and Hannah was helped to
her feet and hustled into the bathroom.
Far from being abandoned, Hannah was the center of attention,
like the evening before. She was led to the showers and
several maids soaped her naked body and scrubbed her clean with
washcloths. They took their time, and were very thorough. In
fact, it soon became quite clear that hygiene was a secondary
concern. Hannah's wrists and arms were held in the firm
but gentle grip of the maids, and her legs splayed and entwined
with her fellow bathers' wet limbs. Washcloths gave way to
hands, and lips, and tongues. Hannah's crotch received
special attention, as did her nipples and neck, and face, and
armpits, and... everything.
Hannah resisted like the brave Saxon Princess she was, of course
(at least that was her story, and she was sticking to it).
However, as time passed, her reality slowly collapsed into
a swirling maelstrom of warm water, gliding hands, wet bodies,
and indescribable pleasure, until
a crashing multiple orgasm coursed through her quivering body.
And then it was over... but for the multitude of soft, warm
towels drying her skin... and the bask of the afterglow.
Hannah was led to a dressing table and a pair of maids fussed
with her hair, using towels, a rather clunky hairdryer, and a
comb and brush set to arrange her blond locks in a full, wavy
ponytail secured at the nape of her neck by a wide, baby-blue
ribbon tied in a large bow. A contented (and somewhat
goofy) smile curled her lips as she gazed at her
reflection. I could
learn to like this place, she decided, as long as I stay out of the
basement and away from Patricia's mad scientist lab and out of
Jaclyn's torture chamber. Of course, she didn't
know for a fact that Jaclyn had
a torture chamber, but it was a sure bet. This place is like
Foxwood—different, but the same. It feels like Foxwood. In fact, I
think I could learn to love this place.
Her hair ready, Hannah was led back into the dormitory and
dressed in what she was told was a "tea gown". It was
white, with a froth of lace and baby-blue ribbon decorations and
a tight, baby-blue bodice. Its yoke collar was low cut,
its long sleeves puffed at the shoulder and buttoned tight at
the wrists, and its skirts long and full. Underneath,
Hannah was wearing a camisole, knickers, white stockings with
frilly garters, and baby-blue high button shoes.
Hannah was no expert in Victorian garb, to say the least, but as
she gazed at herself in a full length mirror, her impression was
of a somewhat juvenile figure. I look like Alice in Wonderland
or Little Bo Peep, she fumed. She turned to the
watching maids, who by this time were all dressed in their
uniforms. "And now, I suppose you're going to tie me up,
The maids giggled, and two of them came forward and kissed
Hannah recognized one of them as the fair-skinned blonde who had
handled her rope leash, yesterday.
"We'll tie you up if you want, madam," the blonde giggled, "but
wouldn't you rather go down to breakfast?"
Hannah's stomach growled. "Breakfast sounds good."
She noticed the tiny maid Chloe in the crowd, and grinned.
"How's your butt?"
Chloe blushed and the others giggled. "My butt is just
fine, thank you," she answered, primly.
"Oh, it's more than just fine," a maid laughed.
"Like a pair of ripe, albino melons," another maid suggested.
"Mighty fine," yet
"Stop!" Chloe complained, blushing an even deeper shade of red.
The blond maid took Hannah's hand. "Madam?"
"I could eat," Hannah said, and allowed herself to be led away.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B: AMoM
kitchen with the staff—like in Upstairs, Downstairs. Instead, the
blonde led her to a pair of sliding doors, opened a panel,
kissed her on the cheek, and motioned for her to enter.
Beyond was a small dining room with a modest table. A
large window provided yet another view of the formal
gardens. Against the opposite wall, a long, narrow table
supported a row of silver chafing dishes and a stack of china
Only Jillian and Caroline were present. Both were dressed
in elegant tea gowns, costumes that bespoke privilege and
sophistication. Also, both were eating. "Good
morning," they both wished Hannah, and she returned the
"We breakfast country style," Caroline continued, gesturing
towards the buffet. "Please, join us."
You don't have to ask me
twice! Hannah thought as she grabbed a plate.
There were three kinds of scrambled eggs (plain, with cheese,
and with diced peppers), bacon, two kinds of sausages, ham,
mashed potatoes, diced potatoes sauteed in onion and garlic,
oven roasted potatoes, croissants, rolls, some kind of carrot
cake, baked beans— Beans? —smoked
not add to her plate),
Whatever was in the rest of the dishes was moot, as Hannah's
plate was already heaped to capacity. She made her way to
the table and settled into the chair next to Jillian.
Her boss and hostess (kidnapper) eyed the small mountain of food
with amusement. Jillian poured coffee into Hannah's
cup. Meanwhile, Hannah had begun to eat.
Jillian shifted her smile to Caroline. "I take it you've
been neglecting to feed my Saxon Princess?" she inquired.
"Hunger puts something of an edge on the abduction and
ravishment experience," Caroline explained. "She did
receive some nourishment,
assuming my instructions were followed."
Hannah ignored the teasing banter—and ate.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B: AMoM
I wish I was a Saxon, back at
Foxwood, she thought. There, heaving a loud belch
wouldn't just be allowed, it would be polite. In
Caroline's elegant dining room, the opposite was true.
"All right, then," Caroline said, as they finished their
coffee. "Shall we get on with things?"
"What things?" Hannah muttered.
Jillian gave Hannah's hand a reassuring pat. "Caroline has
asked us to help entertain Pilar, and I accepted, on your
Hannah blinked in surprise. "Entertain? How?"
"No worries, Hannah," Caroline purred. "Your role—"
She smiled at Jillian. "—your roles, plural, will be entirely
passive." She lifted a small, silver bell from her place
setting and gave it a shake. "Of course, a little acting
would be appropriate and appreciated."
Jillian smiled at her employee. "Shock, terror, sympathy,
nothing you haven't done before as a member of the Foxwood
Hannah opened her mouth, but before she could demand further
clarification, the sliding doors opened and four maids
entered. Between them they were carrying various brown
leather straps and cuffs, all with shining brass buckles.
"Please don't resist," Caroline asked.
Hannah's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth again, this time
to deliver a scathing rebuke—but Jillian's smiling face caught
her attention. Hannah sighed, rolled her eyes, and nodded.
The maids set to work, and in short order both Hannah and
Jillian were bound in leather. Wide cuffs, each with
multiple small buckles, captured their wrists and their upper
arms, above the elbows, and wide collars were strapped around
their throats. Their hands were behind their backs in the
reverse prayer position, with each wrist-cuff clipped to its
opposite elbow-cuff. Leather straps linked the cuffs to
the back of the collars and pinned their arms to their sides,
yoking their shoulders and passing above and below their
"This is tight," Jillian noted as a maid tugged on the final
buckle of her restraints.
"One of our simpler pony-girl arrangements," Caroline explained,
"without the boots, corset, and hindquarter accouterments, of
Hannah caught herself before she could inquire as to the exact
nature of "hindquarter accouterments". At Foxwood, such
questions often led to practical demonstrations, and it was a
good bet Caroline's response might be similar.
"We'll also forgo the headstalls and training bits," Caroline
added, then gestured to the maids. "However..."
A pair of maids pulled rolls of white medical tape from their
apron pockets and began applying strip after strip across the
captives' mouths. Jillian cooperated by pursing her lips
and holding her head perfectly still. Hannah did the same,
but her expression made it clear she was not happy.
Finally, the maids snapped leather leads to rings in the front
of the prisoners' collars and handed the end loops to
Caroline. They then curtsied and left the dining room,
leaving the sliding doors open.
Caroline smiled at her helpless guests. "By way of review,
'Pilar du Romany' is a Gypsy princess and highly skilled
operative of the Illuminati
Occidental, a secret organization dedicated to...
something or other. That's not important." She
walked towards the door, the leashes snapped taut, and Jillian
and Hannah followed.
At least this time I'm not
hobbled, Hannah fumed. Jillie-bean better give me some sort of bonus for all
"What is important,"
Caroline continued, "is that Pilar penetrated my defenses in
order to rescue one—" She turned her head and winked at
Hannah. "—or more, of my guests, and she absolutely refuses to tell my staff
who sent her... no matter how politely they ask."
They'd made their way to a back staircase and were descending to
the basement level.
"Your role in this melodrama, Lady Foxwood," Caroline explained,
"is that of the MacGuffin, the object of interest driving the
plot." She stopped and kissed Jillian's gagged lips, then
the journey continued. "The beautiful, red-haired,
freckled object of interest, that is." She smiled at
Hannah. "You, Hannah, are Her Ladyship's traveling
companion. Both are non-speaking roles. No lines to
Hannah sighed through her gag. Been there. Done that. 'Bound and Gagged
Damsel Number Two', got it.
The parade of three passed through a heavy door, down a dark
hallway, through another door and down another hallway—passing
the five holding cells with their hatch-like steel doors—and
finally came to yet another door.
"Everyone in character?" Caroline inquired, smiling at her
captives, then turned and opened the door. They heard the
quiet hum of machinery from beyond as the thick portal swung on
They crossed the threshold and found themselves on the top
landing of a set of stairs. The room below was quite large
and was cluttered with massive mechanisms of no apparent
function. Gears turned, counterweights on chains rose and
fell, and lever arms rocked back and forth. And in the
center of the room, under the bright glare of several
Hannah and Jillian forced gasps through their gags and their
eyes popped wide as
they stared at the spectacle below.
"Perfect," Caroline whispered to her captives. "Just like
that. What a pair of troupers!"
Caroline started down the stairs, the leashes snapped taut, and
Hannah and Jillian had no choice but to follow.
Tales of the
All Manor of Mischief