TALES OF THE FOXWOOD B&B _¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯by Van © 2009		_
		Chapter 4

The Enslaver Enslaved
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Ashley sighed, and tugged on her chains in frustration.  How could I be so stupid? she chided herself.  When will I learn that no one in this gods-cursed world can be trusted?  Okay, Lady Foxwood was a slaver, and slavers took slaves, and Ashley had made it perfectly clear that she was not and never would be a Foxwood retainer—but that didn't make her fair game, did it?  She sighed, again.  Of course it did.

Once Ashley was gagged, Her Ladyship's elven retainers had dragged her from the hot tub and bound her wrists behind her back.  She'd struggled, of course—by the Goddess's Tits she'd struggled—but the elves were expert in the handling of captives.  They didn't re-tie her wrists until they'd added enough additional rope to make her truly helpless, and then had wrenched them back against her spine and lashed them together.  With all of them naked, and Ashley dripping wet and slippery as the proverbial eel, you'd think she would have had some advantage, but Lady Foxwood's dagger remained near her throat and Her Ladyship's hand remained clutching her hair through the entire process.

In short order, tight bands of rope pinned Ashley's arms to her sides, passing above and below her breasts, and her hair was gathered, doubled, and tied back to her crossed and bound wrists.  This kept her chin up and severely restricted her ability to move her head.  Her ankles were hobbled about a foot apart—obviously, so she would be able to walk but not kick—and she was dragged to her feet.  Ashley glared at Lady Foxwood as best she could, as the elves used a long coil of hemp to give her a tight crotch rope.  The labia and butt-cleaving binding had two long free ends, one in front and the other behind, and the elves used them as leads.  A rope collar would have been just as effective, but Ashley was sure the pointy-eared bitches were using the crotch-tether arrangement to humiliate her, the same reason they'd included her hair in her bondage.

Lady Foxwood tossed her dagger aside and smiled, looking Ashley's wet, naked, and supremely angry, helpless form up and down with a professional eye.  "Yes," she purred.  "I'm sure such a choice item will find a buyer at tonight's auction.  In fact, I can almost guarantee it."

Despite the awkwardness of her bonds, Ashley lunged forward and tried to head-butt the grinning, red-haired villainess—but Her Ladyship danced back and Ashley's pathetic effort never even came close to connecting.  Both elves took in the slack from her crotch-leads and Cody grabbed the knotted ponytail, tightening their control.

"A pity there's no time to indulge ourselves by teaching her some manners," Lady Foxwood continued, still smiling, "but the buyer I have in mind enjoys breaking high-spirited fillies... of the four and two-legged variety."  Her Ladyship focused on Cody.  "The tower—and tire her out a little.  We can't have her trying this nonsense on a noble guest."  She reached out and placed her right palm on the side of Ashley's gagged face and gave the panting, glaring prisoner a gentle caress.  "You're not free anymore, Ashley," she said... then gave the captive's face a businesslike slap.  "You'll never be free again."

Ashley remembered the knot of despair that had twisted her stomach as Lady Foxwood turned, walked down the steps into the pool, and swam away into the cool waters.  She also remembered turning her head to focus on Alice, the little red-haired thrall.  Naked and kneeling in her chains, her grubby, pixie face gazed up at Ashley in sad misery.  It had been a heartbreaking moment of silent mutual commiseration, something totally new to Ashley, as, until this treacherous turn of events, she had made her living capturing and selling such maidens as if they were game animals.  She'd never given the feelings of her prey a second thought... or, more correctly, a first thought.  And then the naked elves had dragged Ashley away, to the changing room.

She was tethered between two posts as her handlers dressed, and then was dragged up the stairs of the Stone Tower to a third-floor cell.  Her rope bonds were swapped for iron manacles and shackles, then Cricket stepped into the hallway and began turning a crank.  The manacle chains slithered up through a hole in the ceiling and her arms were dragged relentlessly upwards, until she was stretched full-length and up on her toes.  Surprisingly, Cody removed her gag, then turned and left the cell.  Of course, Ashley screamed and cursed as the door was closed and locked, but was ignored.

Finally... after several minutes of futile tugging, twisting, and chain-encumbered kicking... she settled down.  Anger and despair warred in her heart as she hung in her chains and struggled to maintain her courage.

My courage, she mused.

Courage in battle had never been a problem for Ashley.  Once she'd gained skill with weapons and a little confidence, and especially once she'd passed the milestone of her first deadly combat, Ashley had taken for granted her ability to control her fear and channel it into the state of hyper-awareness she called the Warrior's Edge.  True, she'd made her share of mistakes, and she'd even been captured by opponents on more than one occasion—but she'd always managed to turn the tables or escape, and her courage had never wavered.

This felt different.  Lady Foxwood and her elf-retainers were expert slavers.  They knew all the tricks... all the tricks that Ashley had ever learned, anyway.

Minutes turned into an hour... one hour into two.  The shadows cast by the bars of the cell's single window grew ever longer as the sun made its relentless journey to the western horizon.

Buyers, Ashley thought.  She talked about buyers and an auction, and one buyer in particular.  Maybe I'll get a chance to escape tonight... or tomorrow... or whenever my new 'owner' decides to move me.  She tugged on her chains, again, more to alleviate her boredom than to escape.

Her feet were beginning to ache... but her predicament wasn't too bad.  Cricket had left her just enough slack to ease her heels to the floor, if she wanted to really stretch her spine and increase the pressure on her wrists and hands.  She'd settled into a pattern of allowing herself to hang for several minutes, to favor her feet and calves... and then to go back up on her toes, to favor her wrists.  She knew that eventually, if her captors left her like this for several more hours, she would tire to the point that she would have no choice but to hang from her chains.  Then, the struggle would be to see how long she could continue breathing, to see how long it would be before the onset of total exhaustion.  Death by suspension was a slow and agonizing ordeal.

But she knew that death wouldn't be her fate.  She was of no value to Lady Foxwood as a corpse... unless one of the "buyers" was a cannibal.  They were simply tiring her out, as Her Ladyship had ordered... and it was working.

A key rattled in the cell door's lock, there was a pause, and then the heavy portal opened.

Ashley lifted her head as the Mistress of the Keep strolled into the cell.  She considered cursing and spitting in her noble captor's face, but just didn't have the energy.  Yes, it's working, she realized.  They're tiring me out.

Her Ladyship had changed into one of her fine velvet gowns.  It was a deep shade of olive, with red-gold vines and pale blue flowers embroidered throughout.  Her long, copper-red hair was in French braids, and a whisper-thin silk veil, dyed a dull gold, covered her head.  A golden band encircled her brow and held it in place.  She gazed at Ashley's naked captivity and smiled.

"Come to gloat," Ashley muttered.  It was a statement, not a question.

"And to check on my retainers' work," Jillian purred.  She reached out, cupped Ashley's left breast with her right hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm going to kill you," Ashley said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Life is full of uncertainty," Her Ladyship chuckled, as she gently fondled her captive's breast.

Ashley turned her face away.  Her nipples—both her nipples—were blossoming erect.  Lady Foxwood was expert in all aspects of the handling of slaves.

"That is really what I came to tell you," Jillian continued.  "Life is full of uncertainty, Ashley.  You should be prepared for the unexpected."

Ashley frowned, and turned her face back to her captor.  What the hell is she trying to say?  (Ashley considered dropping out of character to ask... but decided to go with the flow.)  "I'm going to gut you like a fish," she muttered, "I'm going to skin you like a hare I've snared for my supper."

"Yes," Lady Foxwood responded, "but you'd have to escape, first, wouldn't you?"  An infuriatingly unconcerned smile curled her perfect lips.  "No prisoner has ever escaped from my tower... or my training yard... or my torture chambers."  She let her hand slide down Ashley's smooth, taut stomach to her crotch.

Ashley gasped as Jillian cupped her sex, slid her middle finger between her labia, and slowly, gently caressed her clitoris.

"Hmm... you're wet, Ashley," Jillian purred.  "I guess slavery agrees with you."

"I'm going to cut off that hand," Ashley hissed, through clinched teeth.  "I'm going to wear your ugly orange scalp on my belt as a trophy."

Jillian took a step back, her smile never wavering.  "Like I said, life is full of uncertainty."  She sauntered gracefully through the door, accompanied by the swish of lush velvet.  "One must be ever ready for the occasional... surprise."   She then closed and locked the door.

(What the hell was that about? Ashley-the-paying-customer wondered.  What was she trying to tell me... that Connie's come up with a new character for one of the regulars?  I've already agreed to be 'surprised'... so what was she trying to say?)

Ashley tugged on her chains.  They were still inescapable, and her feet still hurt... a little... nothing she couldn't handle... and the sun was only just now beginning to set.

(Well, whatever happens, happens... and it's a little late to start getting picky about the parameters of the scenario.  My best, last, and most graceful chance to do that has already passed.  I hate it when she gets all mysterious like this.)

The Languishing Prisoner tugged on her manacles, again... and a thrill rippled down her spine and quivered through her sex.

(Actually... I love it.)

An hour after sunset

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Hannah sighed when she heard her cell door being unlocked.  It was time.

The door opened and Cricket crept through.  The grinning little fey was still dressed as an elf-retainer, but now her costume more or less matched what Cody had been wearing earlier, rather than the more abbreviated Wood-Elf outfit she'd worn as Ashley and Pilar's guide.  In addition, torcs of hammered gold, in the form of vines with flat, arrowhead-shaped leaves, coiled around her biceps.  She was also wearing earrings with dangling moonstone beads.  To complete the ensemble (and to make her role in the scenario crystal clear), a multi-tailed flogger was tucked in her belt and the hilt of a long dagger peeked from the top of her right boot.

"Your formal elf-handler outfit?" Hannah whispered.

Cricket giggled (softly) and executed a graceful curtsy.  "Cody's added similar refinements to her costume," she whispered back, fingering one of the torcs.  "After all, we have a noble visitor."  She held up the burlap sack in her left hand.  "Ready?"

Hannah favored the smiling elf with a pitiful pout.  "I'm not looking forward to this part," she sighed.

Cricket smiled.  "You're not foolin' anybody," she whispered back, "especially me."  She dumped out the contents of the bag, knelt down, and began unlocking Hannah's chains.  In short order the Saxon Maiden was completely free, unencumbered by rope or chains for the first time in more than twenty-four hours.

Quick as a flash, Hannah grabbed Cricket, pinned her arms behind her back, and clamped a hand over her mouth.  The little elf struggled and moaned (softly) through her captor's hand.

"Shhh... quiet," Hannah whispered, her lips less than an inch from Cricket's right ear.  She thrust her tongue into the wiggling fey's ear, being careful not to damage the pointed attachment glued to the outer shell.  She then nuzzled Cricket's neck.  "Maybe I should turn the tables," she whispered.  "What you think?  I leave you hogtied and gagged, sneak out of the Keep and into the Forest, and we turn this into a 'Hunt the Escaped Saxon' scenario?"  She took her hand away.

"And spoil Connie's carefully crafted plan?" Cricket whispered back.  "There are three paying customers involved.  If you throw this in the crapper, Jillie won't let you near another orange-banner scenario for a year, if ever."

"Umm... you think she'd fire me?"

Cricket giggled.  "No, just chain you in the oubliette and only let you out if somethin' needs fixin'—Ahh—M'mfh!"

Hannah had released Crickets arms, reached around her body, and was caressing the squirming elf's crotch.  At the same time, she'd restored her hand-gag.  "You're probably right," she whispered, and licked Cricket's neck.

"Nrmpfh!"

Hannah released her hand.  "What?"

"Stop, Hannah-bear," Cricket whined, continuing to squirm.  "We don't have time!"

Hannah sighed, stopped handling her handler, and took a step back.  "I guess you're right.  By the way, where's Cody?"

"Down in the kitchen," Cricket answered.  "With Kay-bear's role about to go active, everybody not looking after the Noble Guest has to help with the dinner-prep.  She'll be up to help me with Pilar and Ashley as quick as she can."

Hannah nodded and accepted a "spider-gag" from her now back-in-charge handler.  It was a ring-gag, with four curved flanges that helped anchor the ring in her gaping mouth.  She dropped her jaw and seated the steel ring between her teeth, then buckled the attached strap at the nape of her neck, cinching it tight until her cheeks bulged.  Next, Cricket handed her part two of her gag-for-the-evening, a bulbous chamois sack attached to a flap of thin leather.  The cloth-stuffed leather sack was divided in two parts.  The first part was firm, but pliant enough to compress and slide through the ring before it re-expanded to more-or-less pack her mouth.  The remainder was decidedly less firm, and as she buckled the flap, it padded and filled the space between the ring and her lips.  The flap completely covered her lower face, but allowed the ends of the four, underlying spider-gag flanges to protrude.  Hannah finished buckling the flap's roller buckle over the buckle of the ring-gag, and knew herself to be very well-gagged.

"Sooo pretty," Cricket whispered.  "I love the way I can see the outline of your lips, but can tell there's some serious packing in there.  Turn around."  Hannah complied, and Cricket used a length of hemp to bind the Saxon Maid's elbows together, behind her back.  Next, a new pair of manacles were clamped around her wrists, in front.  They were thick-walled, heavy, well-padded with chamois leather, and were joined across her belly by several links of stout chain with a large ring in the center.  Finally, shackles with a foot of hobbling chain were locked around her ankles.

"Time to go," Cricket whispered, then quietly snapped her fingers and her smile broadened.  "Silly me, I'm forgetting something, aren't I?"  She picked up the burlap bag, dropped it over Hannah's head, cinched its drawstring around her throat, and tied a quick bow.

"Mrmf!" Hannah complained, stomping her right foot for emphasis.

"You know the rules," Cricket giggled.  "In an orange-banner scenario, we have to be prepared to encounter a guest at all times."

"Nrm'nrf'rmf!" Hannah objected, and stomped her foot, again.

"Oh, you're right, of course," Cricket agreed (pretending to understand Hannah's complaint).  "The odds of meeting a guest in the Stone Tower, other than the two already locked safely away in their cells, are slim and none, but... you know, due diligence."  She hugged the nude, helpless, and hooded prisoner from the side, put her right arm around her waist, and used her left hand to grab the ring in the manacle chain.  "I won't let you fall, Hannah-bear," she whispered.  "I know we practiced this with me and Cody as your guides, but I'll be careful.  We'll take it nice and slow and I won't let you fall."

With clinking, clanking, chain-encumbered, shuffling steps, Hannah was led through the cell door, out into the hallway, and down the stairs.

"It's scary being helpless and totally dependent like this," Cricket whispered, "isn't it?"

A thrill shivered through Hannah's sex.  It sure is! she agreed... horribly, wonderfully scary.

Dragged to Their Fates
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Pilar looked up when she heard her cell being unlocked.  She's been lying on a loose pile of straw and wondering what was to come.  As the afternoon progressed, she'd heard various comings and goings out in the hallway, the rattling of chains, doors opening and closing, and what may have been (and probably was) the shouts and/or gagged, mewling moans of one or more fellow prisoners.  The Stone Tower wasn't exactly a beehive of activity, but she could tell hers wasn't the only sad tale of capture and enslavement playing itself out.

She hastily climbed to her feet, brushed the straw from her body, and arranged the chain from her collar behind her back.  She then knelt on the straw, placed her hands on her lap, and lowered her head, letting her hair fall across her face.  Let them continue to think I am subservient, she thought.  If there is a chance to escape, it might improve the odds of success.

The door opened and both of the Wood-Elf retainers entered.  Cricket had a burlap sack in her left hand and Cody was clutching a catch-pole, a wooden staff with a noose attached to one end.

"One that knows her place," Cricket giggled, as she stepped behind the kneeling captive.

Pilar watched as she pulled a length of hemp rope from the bag.  "What are you going to—Ah!"

Cody had dropped the pole's noose over her head and pulled it tight.  "No talking, slave," she growled, gripping the pole and immobilizing the captive's head.

Cricket bound Pilar's elbows together, behind her back.  Next, she clamped her wrists in padded iron cuffs, in front.  Then, shackles joined by a hobbling chain were locked around her ankles.

The tight noose and position of the pole prevented Pilar from lowering her chin to examine her new bonds, but she could feel the chain stretching between the wide, heavy manacles press against her tummy.  Two separate gags followed: a ring-gag with four attached prongs that curved and pressed against her face, and a chamois plug-gag that packed her mouth, on both sides of the ring.  The plug-gag was buckled over the ring-gag, covering her mouth with a wide, thin flap of leather.  Whether or not Pilar chose to obey her handlers and remain silent was now very much a moot issue.

The iron collar linking her to the wall was removed from Pilar's neck, followed by Cody's noose; but, immediately, the burlap sack was dropped over her head and its drawstring pulled tight and secured around her throat.  Blind, naked, and helpless, she was hauled to her feet and led from the cell.  With an elf clutching each arm, she felt safe enough as she shuffled along, even on the stairs, but it was a somewhat distressing (and deliciously suspenseful) journey from the tower to the more public areas of the Keep.

They entered some sort of common room, and Pilar was led up a couple of steps and onto some sort of wooden platform or deck.  It's a stage, she decided.  Are they going to make me dance?  There was a click as something was attached to the ring in the center of her manacle chain.  Then, her ankles were pulled apart until her shackles' hobbling chain snapped taut, and there were two more clicks.  Something rigid and about a foot-and-a-half in length now linked the shackles, preventing her from closing her legs.  Her elbows were untied, then, somewhere behind her, a rattling, clanking noise started, and her manacles were pulled upwards.  This continued until her arms were stretched full-length over her head and her heels threatened to leave the floor.  Then, mercifully, the clanking stopped and her handlers stepped away.  Their boots tapped down the stage's steps... but Pilar could tell she was not alone.

The sounds and smells of a meal being served and consumed filled the air, as well as the sound of clinking chains.  Pilar's stomach growled.  She'd had nothing to eat since the evening before, since that delicious elven stew at the waterfall campsite.  She was very hungry.  She was also more than a little scared.  What's going on? she wondered.  The clink and clatter of cutlery and chains continued, but not a word was spoken.  The boards moved under Pilar's feet, and she surmised that someone else was with her on the stage.  Pilar listened closely, and heard the creak of a chain twisting as her unknown companion tested what could possibly be similar bonds to her own.  Of course, until the hood came off her head, she couldn't be sure, and it was pointless to speculate.

She heard liquid splashing, possibly into a cup... and then a delicious, meaty odor filled the air as chains clanked from one side of the hall to the other.  A captive servant is bringing roasted meat to one of the diners, she decided... and her stomach growled, again.

Whatever happens, whatever will be my fate, I hope it includes dinner... and soon.

When they came for her, Ashley fought like a tigress... a chained and more-or-less helpless tigress pitted against two expert handlers.

Despite several minutes of sweat and strain, she found herself with her elbows bound behind her back, a chain stretched across her stomach and linked to the padded iron manacles on her wrists, and with hobbling shackles on her ankles.  She was gagged with a spider-gag, and then a strap gag was added.  It had a covering flap of leather and a plug of chamois-covered stuffing that more-or-less filled her mouth to capacity.  Adding to her restrained helplessness, a burlap hood was pulled over her struggling head and cinched tight.

Next, mewling through her gag and continuing to fight, she was led from her cell and down the tower stairs.  She was familiar enough with the Keep to tell the elves were taking her to the Common Room, and by the sounds and smells she could tell the evening meal was in progress.  She was led up onto a platform, probably the stage used by the Keep's troupe of musicians to entertain Lady Foxwood and her guests, a chain was attached to her manacle chain, and her legs were spread and her shackles attached to a rod or pole of about eighteen inches.

As her elbows were untied, a winch clanked and the manacle chain began to drag her hands towards the ceiling.  She bucked, struggled, tugged on her restraints, and forced well-muffled curses past her gag as her arms were pulled over her head and she was stretched nearly up onto her toes, and then her handlers clomped off the stage... and the waiting began.

Ashley tugged on her manacles in frustration, then forced herself to relax.

(What did Connie come up with this time? Ashley-the-customer wondered.  Whatever it is... I know it's gonna be good.  Previously, Ashley had always been a Top in her Foxwood adventures, but this time, to mix things up, she'd agreed to try being a Bottom.  Add to that the deliberate uncertainty of the details of the rest of the scenario (plus the "surprise" Jillian had so cryptically warned her about) and the suspense was... delicious.  Time passed as the diners, whoever they were, consumed their meal... no, their feast, if Kayley was true to form... and when was Kayley not true to form?  The clatter of knives and the splash of cups being refilled continued, accompanied by what was probably the clink of Alice in her serving chains as she moved from table to table.  Yes... this is going to be good.  Pillie and I are going to be sold!)

The Auction Begins
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It was many long minutes before Ashley heard boots returning... but they passed her by and clattered and clopped to the other end of the stage.  Seconds passed, then they came closer.  There was another pause... then they finally came to her.  Fingers tugged on the drawstring of her burlap hood and it was pulled from her head.  She blinked in the glare of the sudden light and shook her head to clear her hair from her face.  The grinning elves were standing directly in front of her, more-or-less blocking her view of most of the darkened Common Room.  To her immediate right was Pilar, in Ashley's identical condition: naked, double-gagged, shackled ankles held a foot-and-a-half apart by an iron spreader-bar, and her arms raised and wrists locked in padded manacles.

To Pilar's right was a third captive, also naked and identically restrained—and she was a complete stranger!  She had smooth, tan skin, a trim, athletic body, and her long, blond hair was parted down the middle and plaited in two braids.  She gazed at Ashley with tired (gorgeous) blue eyes.

(Is this the surprise Jillian warned me about? Ashley wondered.  A third prisoner?  It doesn't seem like that much of a surprise.  She sure is beautiful!  Ashley caught Pilar's eye and nodded in the blonde's direction.  Pilar smiled (with her eyes) and shrugged... probably.  Their body English was severely restricted by their bonds.  A stranger to Pillie, as well, Ashley surmised.)

Ashley turned her head and focused past the row of brightly glowing "elven globes" at their feet and into the dining area.  Off to the far right and in the back she could see a cloaked figure, sitting alone at a small table.  The cloak's hood was up and pulled forward, and all Ashley could really make out was a pair of gloved hands using a small dagger to slice chunks from a small roast.  Whoever the diner was, she—Ashley was sure she was probably a she—was little more than a dark shadow.

Over Cricket's left shoulder, Ashley could see a second cloaked and hooded figure, definitely female (and, in fact, Ashley instantly recognized Kayley).  Whoever she was (in the scenario), her cloak was a deep indigo and was decorated with multi-point stars and strange symbols, all embroidered with dull silver thread.  She threw back the cloak's hood, revealing her beautiful, smiling face.  A narrow, horizontal, black raccoon mask was painted across her eyes, and the remarkable, pale blue orbs shone in the dim light like glowing sapphires.  The exotic vision turned her head, revealing a long shock of silver-white among her otherwise dark tresses.

(She's playing a witch or sorceress, Ashley realized.  Perfect!)

Cricket moved to Cody's right, and Alice and a table with two more diners came into view.

Poor Alice was a little cleaner than she'd been when Ashley last saw her in the Roman Bath, but she was still grubby and naked and in the same serving chains and chastity belt.  In addition, a leather headstall anchored a thick wooden bit in her mouth.  It was buckled over her long, copper-red hair and secured by a padlock at the nape of her neck.  A silver ewer wrapped in white cloth was clutched in her hands.  From the purple stain under the spout, Ashley surmised it contained wine.

To Alice's right and seated at the table was Lady Foxwood, resplendent in the same gown, veil, and golden headband she had worn earlier.  A silver plate with the remnants of her meal was before her.  Her Ladyship smiled at Ashley and Ashley glared back at her captor; but managed to suppress the growl that had been building in her throat.  What was the point in humiliating herself by demonstrating the effectiveness of her gag?

Cody and Cricket stepped to the left, and the other diner came into view, and it was—

Ashley's eyes popped wide, and a startled yelp was swallowed by her gag—and all doubt as to the exact nature of Jillian's forewarned "surprise" was instantly dispelled!