|TALES OF THE FOXWOOD B&B
_by Van ©
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Hannah towards a side entrance to the
Keep. "We'll start in the kitchen," she explained,
fully illustrates the 'dilemma' of the Foxwood premise."
door and they crossed the threshold.
"Dilemma?" Hannah asked.
The space beyond was large, well-lit by an expansive bank of
unmistakably a working kitchen. There were several large
surfaces, hanging pots and pans, a bank of ovens, a
large grilling surface, and a fireplace with the cantilevered
spit-racks required to hang kettles or roast large joints
or fowl. There was also a large, stone sink below a copper
It also smelled like
kitchen, with a pleasant aroma of fresh bread, roasting meat,
"Role-playing is all good and well," Jillian said, "but I'm not going to ask Kayley to
her magic in an authentic medieval
The stove and grill installations are made to appear as
if they're wood-fired, but the burners actually run on
Hot water is provided by flash heaters, and modern laundry and
spaces are through those doorways." She pointed to a pair
doors in the far wall. "The appliances are camouflaged,
never let guests see any of it. However, it's impossible to keep them
of the kitchen... especially when Kayley starts baking."
"I can imagine," Hannah laughed.
Jillian opened the first of a row of small iron doors under the
and Hannah beheld a soot-blacked firebox strewn with
could also smell the faint aroma of woodsmoke and fresh apples.
"We burn a little wood and incense in the fireboxes now and
explained, "to reinforce the illusion."
"Very clever," Hannah said, but her eyes were on the kitchen's
lighting fixtures. She had
expected to see candles or torches—or at
least flame-tip electric bulbs. What she saw
mix of wall sconces and hanging
lights suspended from chains, and all had a naturalistic, Art Nouveau
appearance. Each had single or multiple glass globes held
frameworks by delicate, root or vine-like tendrils of
wire. Hannah stared up at the closest sconce. The
was hand-blown, and was a pale, milky green, shot through with
"Our greatest compromise," Jillian explained.
"We use electric lights, but they're manufactured in the shop of
Artisan' I know."
"In a hollow tree?" Hannah suggested with a grin.
"No," Jillian laughed, "in a modern
metalworking shop. The elf's name is Cody
meet her, eventually." She traced the
veins in the globe with one finger. "These are strings of
glow-in-the-dark beads glued to the interior of the
glass. At night, all the
globes have a soft, viridescent glow—like very weak
The bulbs are all LEDs, and each globe has at least one 'rainbow
linked to a snarl of fiber-optics. The bulb randomly
through all the
colors of the spectrum." She walked to the wall and tapped
first in a row of small, flat tiles of milk glass
recessed in the
wall and surrounded by an ornately carved wooden frame in the
organic style as
the light fixtures.
The three-globe fixture over a worktable began to glow with a
light. Faint sparks of color played across the surfaces of
globes, but the light cast on the work-surface was a warm,
"Elven magic," Hannah smiled.
"Exactly," Jillian agreed. "That dilemma I mentioned—how
convenience for our guests, but without spoiling the illusion of medieval
Suspension-of-disbelief is all well and good, but it must be
kept to an
minimum—an imaginary toll
paid one time only, at the Inner Gate of the Forest Path.
should be no
nagging reminders that Foxwood isn't real."
Hannah nodded. She smiled at the light for a few seconds,
gazed around at the rest of the kitchen. The joinery and
finish-work were very Arts and Crafts, like the Outer Mews—but
touches, like decorative painted borders and carved
"Magnificent work," she
Jillian smiled. "A work in progress. The Keep
is, shall we say, ninety-percent 'authentic', with our guest
and public rooms being the most complete; but there's still work
to mention regular maintenance. Also, we have
a few projects still in the planning stage."
Hannah frowned and stepped towards the sink. "How do you—ah!" She had
rope leash. It had snapped taut and snubbed her up short,
to her goal. "Sorry, 'Lady Foxwood'," she said, with a
grin. "I was curious about the plumbing."
Jillian smiled, stepped forward and untied the leash from
collar, then spun her around and began untying her wrists.
will make the rest of the tour easier," she explained. Her
fingers teased apart the "Foxwood double-hitch" securing the
bindings. Once this was accomplished, the neatly wrapped
thong bands seemed to melt away.
Hannah rubbed her wrists, then turned and smiled at her
"Uh, should I be trying to escape or something?" she inquired.
Jillian smiled back. "That would make the rest of the
little difficult, wouldn't it? Unless you've already
you don't want the job."
"Uh, no, I think I do want
job," Hannah responded, "very much."
Jillian's beamed. "Wonderful!" She pulled Hannah
warm embrace, which the blonde returned. "Welcome,
whispered, kissed her cheek, then took a step back.
Just then, the outside door opened and Kayley and Constance
still lugging the picnic hamper.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B:
dirty Saxon thrall out
of my kitchen," Kayley ordered, a huge smile belying her gruff
words. "Unless you're going to let me put her to work."
"Hannah has agreed to take the job," Jillian announced.
"What else is new?" Kayley muttered.
This time, Constance's response was decidedly not shy and
squealed, hurried around the work table, and hugged
"You're going to love it
Hannah, Jillian, and Kayley shared an indulgent grin as
squeezed Hannah's waist and pressed the side of her smiling face
against the new Resident Artisan's breasts. "I'm sure I
Hannah responded. She was touched by the little brunette's
"Stop coddling the new thrall, Scholar!" Kayley barked, winking
Hannah. "Get over here and unpack this basket, like you
promised. I still have
a feast to prepare."
Constance giggled, in a bubbly manner that reminded all present
brunette's cousin, Cricket (even for Hannah, the
went up on her toes and
kissed Hannah's lips. "Welcome," she said, then hurried to
"Hannah wants to look at the plumbing," Jillian explained to
"Then show her the Common Room bar or one of the guest-room
huffed. She stepped forward and also pulled Hannah into a tight hug.
Hannah gasped. The hug was almost tight enough to squeeze the
air from her lungs.
Kayley also kissed
lips, but it was an enthusiastic
as opposed to the dainty peck
that had been delivered by
Constance. "Welcome!" she
whispered, hugged Hannah again... then took a step
back. "Out!" she ordered, pointing at a nearby door.
Jillian opened the door and motioned for Hannah to join
"Come, Hannah. I may be Lady of the Keep, but apparently
doesn't extend to the kitchen."
"Damn straight!" Kayley huffed.
"Thank you," Hannah mumbled. "Thank you both." She
Jillian through the door.
Jillian smiled, then followed. The door closed, and Kayley
Constance were alone.
Kayley smiled at the diminutive Scholar. "I can't remember
last time I saw you like that," she purred. "Usually, your
red and you crawl under a book when you meet somebody new."
Constance laughed and resumed unpacking the basket. A
blush did color the
in question. "Don't tease, Kay-bear,"
whispered, then continued in her normal voice. "My head's
buzzing with all sorts of new ideas
ever since I saw her. All
of new stuff for the scenarios." She paused and gazed up
face. "Uh... I know you have the feast to work on and
help me, uh... meditate?"
Kayley's smile never wavered. "You can be such a pain, Scholar," she
sighed. "Help me clean the picnic plates, then I'll help
'meditate'. I'd hate for any of those wonderful new ideas
get lost in that overly-cluttered library you call a brain
properly pondered, cataloged, and shelved."
Still blushing, Constance resumed the unpacking.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B:
continued into the Common Room. It was a large space, with
mix of trestle and smaller tables surrounded by the appropriate
and benches. There was a low stage tucked against one
wall, and a
wooden bar against another. Behind the counter were the
holding a multitude of
bottles and several large, tapped barrels.
"Picnics by the pond not withstanding," Jillian explained, "most
are taken in the Common Room."
Hannah nodded. Several stout wooden support columns
the layout, but without blocking the view of the stage from any
tables. The mix of stone walls, simple wainscoting,
rafters, and hanging banners was charming and traditional,
Hannah both the
Prancing Pony and the
Hall of Edoras. As they had in
the kitchen, the "Elven Lights" lent an exotic air, but without
Next on the tour was a series of large and small guest
richly appointed, with hanging tapestries and
elegant wooden paneling. Others were relatively simple,
with appropriately rustic furnishings. All were clean and
quite comfortable. The "noble" suites had private water
with granite commodes and sinks designed to resemble a simple
a stone basin. Guests in the "common" rooms were required
share uni-sex facilities at the end of each hallway. These
WCs, with their rows of toilets seperated by wooden partitions,
also designed to be "authentically"
"No showers or baths?" Hannah asked.
"The 'Roman Bath' occupies an entire wing of the first floor,"
explained. "Aversion to public nudity is a relatively
social innovation in the West. Young and old, male and
all members of medieval households commingled, and the human
mystery. Even nobles had what we would call very limited
privacy. Don't worry," she smiled, "your apartment in the
Mews has its own shower, and
nice soaking tub."
"Yes, hiking back and forth between the Mews and the
Keep to get cleaned up would be inconvenient."
"Exactly." Jillian led her new employee down another
"Uh, I've seen nothing that I would call... 'special'," Hannah
"Perfect timing," Jillian smiled, and opened the door to yet
It appeared to be just another of the better-appointed "noble"
but Hannah noticed an additional doorway. The entrance to
open, so the wooden portal set in the opposite
stone wall led to something else, and it didn't look like a
door. It was very solidly
seasoned timber, and was set in an equally solid frame
by means of heavy, iron strap-hinges. It was secured by
iron throw-bolt and a locking latch, and there was a narrow,
horizontal window with a sliding cover set at eye
An elegant skeleton
key hung from a peg beside the door-frame.
Jillian took the key, inserted it in the lock, and gave it a
counter-clockwise turn. The mechanism operated with
efficiency. She threw back the bolt and
opened the door—and immediately beyond was
a gate of
heavy iron bars. The key opened its lock, as well.
space beyond the gate was about four-feet by ten-feet, and the
were mortared stone. The ceiling and floor were
and a heap of straw was against the far wall. The wall
also had an iron chain. One end was attached by means
of a heavy iron ring, and its other end
was somewhere under the straw.
"Some of our guests bring their own thralls,"
"Follow me." She entered the dark, dungeon cell (there was
could call it), and took the few paces required to reach the far
Hannah hesitated for a second, then followed.
Jillian lifted the chain, pulling its full length from under the
A small iron padlock dangled from a ring on the end. She
first ward of the skeleton key in the padlock, gave it a turn,
clicked open. She then fit the hasp through the ring in
of Hannah's collar, and snapped it closed.
Hannah stared at her new boss, taking the chain in her hands
to support its not insignificant weight. I let her do it! she
thought. I saw it
mile away... and I let her chain me to the wall!
"Now," Jillian said, as she edged past the still dazed Hannah
to the doorway. "I can show you the lower levels and the
another time." She closed
the iron gate and turned the
lock. "Or maybe I'll let the others have their share of the fun and
let them finish
closed the outer door, plunging Hannah into total darkness, and
captive heard the bolt being thrown and the
lock being turned. The peephole slit in the door snapped
beheld Jillian's smiling green eyes. "Or, you can take a set of
plans and explore on your own. You'll be doing that
course. A complete building inspection will be high on
list of things-to-do, right?"
Hannah closed her mouth, and nodded. "Uh... yeah."
"Excellent," Jillian chuckled. "Now, I have things-to-do as
feast, so why don't you take an afternoon nap? I'll be
back." The peephole snicked closed.
Hannah's eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was a little
leaking under the door, but that was it. She stared at the
bars... and the solid wooden door beyond...
and the stone walls, wooden ceiling, and floor. She could
make out what appeared to be a
bucket with a close-fitting wooden cover resting on the floor to
left... and to the right was a small
terracotta pitcher with an inverted wooden cup covering its top.
The peephole slit in the door snicked open. "You aren't
Hannah swallowed, and mustered a sheepish smile. "No, I'm
not," she admitted. "I assume this is the first of a long
of dirty tricks
I can expect until you get tired of messing around with your new
Jillian laughed. "Actually, this is probably the last of the tricks I'll play on you... but I'd
eye on the others. I'll be back." The slit snicked
"Hannah... you frakkin' idiot!"
the imprisoned thrall whispered under her breath. Her
chain was long enough
to let her
examine the bucket and pitcher, but not long enough to let her even touch the bars of the
inner gate, except with her toes, maybe...
which did her no good,
So... a chamber
water... She stepped back to the straw, and
sat. ...and a nice,
comfy bed. What more
could a thrall want?
Strangely, Hannah was mad at herself, but not at her new
boss. In fact—she sighed and
settled back into the straw—her emotions towards Jillian Foxwood
somewhat complicated, and 'mad' wasn't even on the list.
Some amount of teasing and testing was
expected on a new job. Of course, it usually came from the
veteran co-workers, rather than the supervisor; but this was a
case... a "special" case. A sheepish smile curled Hannah's
as her hands toyed with her chain. A helpless thrall, she
Dressed in her semi-revealing,
rough-spun costume, locked in this stone-walled cell, chained by
iron collar to the wall... Role-playing was not required
for this part.
She really was a
Hannah sighed. Well...
say I'd be starting
at the bottom.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B:
her eyes. She was just starting to drift off to sleep
(despite her captivity)—when she heard the
key turn in the lock and the bolt sliding back. The outer
opened, and not to her great
she found Jillian smiling at her through the bars.
"I wasn't serious about
you nap in the straw," the grinning redhead said as she unlocked
open the gate.
"And how was I to know that?" Hannah demanded, grinning
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to file a grievance. Who's
Jillian laughed. "I'm afraid the local thrall's union
hold much sway with management." She unlocked Hannah's
from the chain and helped her to her feet, then helped her slap
straw from her costume. "Hold still," she purred, and
combed her fingers through Hannah's tousled blond locks,
the remaining straw. "There," she said, and led Hannah
from the cell.
A new costume was draped across the blanket press at the foot of
bed. It was a linen loincloth and full-length chemise—both in a
natural off-white—and a long gown of
velvet, with a
low-cut, square yoke, drooping sleeves, narrow waist, and a
train. It was lined and trimmed with pale-blue fabric
embroidered with leafy vines and wildflowers. There was
long, neatly coiled belt of
coin-sized, golden medallions; and a pair of velvet slippers in
same color and with the same embroidered trim as the gown.
"It's... beautiful," Hannah gasped. "Girl-clothes" were
forte, but the gown was gorgeous.
"I don't intend to make you play the thrall at your own
feast," Jillian explained with a grin. "Clothing design is
another example of how we cheat, unmercifully," she
"You should have no trouble getting dressed, without the assistance of
ladies-in-waiting. The zipper and buttons are all where you can
them, but they won't show." She stepped behind Hannah, and
her hair. "Hold this for me, please."
Hannah held her blond tresses atop her head. Her eyes were
on her new
Jillian unlocked and removed Hannah's iron collar, then tossed
the bed. She put her hands
on Hannah's shoulders and spun her around, and their eyes met
locked. Jillian reached up,
gently grasped Hannah's hands, and pulled them down to her
sides. "I suggest you simply part your hair down the
let it frame that pretty
face and fall down the front. We can try Saxon braids
"Good," Hannah said, gruffly, "because I can't do stuff like
myself... not and
make it come out even, anyway."
Jillian smiled. "Such a tomboy," she teased, then leaned
and kissed Hannah's lips. "Not to worry," she said,
quietly. "The others will love playing Barbie with their new Saxon
Hannah blushed (much to her chagrin). "That wasn't in the
description you sent me," she objected.
"A lot of things
that job description," Jillian purred, kissed Hannah's full,
again... then stepped back, spun on her heel (with a swirl of
emerald-green velvet), and strode towards the bedroom
feasting starts at sundown," she said. "You can use this
tonight. No need to make you party and unpack. There
toiletries and a brush set in the WC." Framed in the
turned and smiled at Hannah. "Take that nap, if you
change and wander around—or both.
Welcome to Foxwood, Master
Artisan Hannah Blair."
"Thanks!" Hannah called, as the door closed. Well... she mused, that was... unexpected.
her surprise and chagrin,
heart was pounding. (She was also a little damp, between
a shivering frisson of
rippling up and down her spine.) Yep,
everyone in this place loves Jillian... and now I do too.
She released the laces of her tunic and pulled it over her head,
unlaced her sandals, then released the ties of her loincloth
and let it drop to the floor. She stretched, then
elements of her thrall costume, including the sandals and
folded and arranged everything in a neat stack, and set it on
beside the door
of the thrall's cell. She then padded to the bed, pulled
cover, crawled between the cool sheets, and lay her head back
the soft pillow.
Just a short nap, she
decided... then propped herself up on her elbows and gazed at
closed and locked cell door, and her thrall's costume beside it
floor. She then shifted her eyes to the "Noble Saxon Lady"
costume waiting on the blanket press. Finally, she sighed
dropped her head back on the pillow, pulled the sheet over her
and focused on the bedroom's exposed rafters. She noted,
first time, that several spikes terminating in dangling iron
been pounded into the dark wood at regular intervals
I think it's gonna be a long
before this job gets boring, she
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B:
back in the kitchen...
Kayley was well into
the making of Hannah's welcoming feast. The Beef
ready to go into the oven for the pastry shell to brown, the
would need another basting very
and it was time to start getting serious about assembling the
The outside door opened and "Princess Alice", resplendent in her
and lavender gown, entered the kitchen. The strap of her
satchel was on her left shoulder, and behind
her came a very helpless and still very naked "Thrall-maiden
Cricket". The petite brunette's arms were raised, her
arms and wrists were bound behind her head, and the wad of
burlap-like cloth that was her thrall's loincloth was stuffed in
mouth and held there by several
cleaving strands of rope. One end of a rope leash was tied
ring in the front of her collar, and the other was in
Alice's right hand.
Kayley turned and glared at
smiling princess. "It's about time!" she growled.
"It's hot in here," Alice observed.
It was true. Kayley's smooth, tan skin was shining, and
blouse was rather damp. She had added a linen coif to her
costume, to cover her hair while she worked. "Get my
for work, right now,
show you exactly how
can get in here, starting by using a wooden spoon to warm the
Alice giggled (not at all intimidated by the Mistress of the
Kitchen). She hung her satchel from one of the pegs of a
near the door, pulled Cricket's bundled costume from under the
and tossed it
in the direction of the laundry. She then began
untying her prisoner's bonds. "Everything sure smells
smiling redhead said. "Is anything ready to sample?"
"Not for lazy sluggards," Kayley huffed, "royal or
Now... there's something you can do to redeem yourself. Go
the dungeons and release the Scholar. I forgot she was
and I can't leave 'til the goose is cooked."
"She's 'meditating' again?" Alice asked, then struck a
pose. "Hmm... there's a 'goose is cooked' joke in there,
"Just do it, Princess!" Kayley growled, her lips quivering as
stiffled a smile. "She's perched on the 'Throne of
Woe'. Let her loose, and then I want you both back up here to
the Common Room."
"As M'Lady commands," Alice giggled, curtsyed, and left the
Kayley grinned at the closing door. "Little scamp!" she
Meanwhile, Cricket had removed her gag, and was coiling her
bonds. "Sorry I'm late, Kay-bear," she apologized, "but
know how it is."
"I know how Alice is,"
scoffed. "She's going to flaunt the rules once too often,
and then the real M'Lady
take her down a notch or three."
Cricket giggled. "You really think so? What do you
suppose we can
do to help make that happen?"
Kayley laughed. "Two little
She nodded towards the laundry. "Get your lazy
little self cleaned up and dressed, then get busy with the salad
slicing the peppers for the grill."
"Yes, Mistress," Cricket responded, flashing her heartbreakingly
dimpled smile. She executed a graceful, naked curtsy, spun
her heel and
padded to the laundry door.
Kayley watched the Cricket disappear through the door, then
her head. Everyone in Foxwood loved the 'Bobbsey Twins'; but lately, the
diminutive pair were
making a habit of testing the collective patience. "It's
of time," the smiling brunette mused, then began wrapping a
thinly sliced ham, diced Fontina cheese, fresh rosemary, and
chopped cherries in filo dough squares.
|| Tales of the Foxwood B&B:
& the Evil Princess
chamber was dark, but not too
The paltry number of Elvish lights present were
placed to cast long
shadows and accentuate the
rough texture of the stone walls. Their design was
from the "Wood-Elf" fixtures used in the main Keep, above.
Dungeons, such things were of "Dark-Elf" or "Drow"
The glass spheres
cast a dim, reddish light, and the twinkling, shimmering effect
was the hallmark of Elvish
light-magic was more pronounced. Also, the fixtures'
housings, while still naturalistic, were
somehow—disturbing—evoking not leaves
and vines, but spider and
Off to one side of the chamber was a rough wooden table.
table was an hourglass, and an
array of horrible things,
of the room, facing the table, was a rough chair made
from heavy timbers. It was cleverly joined and its
iron straps and heavy bolts. Its only decorations were a
of leather straps, some narrow and thin, and some wide and
All were attached to the chair by iron rings hammered into the
wood, or by short iron rails that allowed the positions of the
adjusted before they were secured.
- A row
stoppered glass jars containing powders, oils, and dried
with handwritten labels like "Itching Powder", "Leech
was glowing, with
a pulsing, eerie green
metal tools—knives, probes,
forceps, and the like—including a particularly evil,
device, a free-spinning wheel of sharp spikes mounted on the
end of a
whip, a riding crop, and two multi-tailed floggers.
full-sized, and the other was small (and nasty looking).
sort of Drowish instrument: a foot-long, two-inch-thick rod
terminated in a milky-white glass knob. Like
by the Dark
Elves, its dark handle was carved in a disturbingly organic style.
effect was that of some sort of giant larvae or worm laying
glistening, hen-size egg.
Constance Clarke was seated in the chair. The little
naked, but for her granny glasses and the leather bonds making
sure she kept her seat. Her clothes
were neatly folded and stacked atop a stool, near
the chamber door. Wide straps,
double-tongued buckles, held her wrists against the chair's
her upper arms against the chairback, her ankles against the
legs, her tiny waist against the back, and her throat against
the headrest. Additional straps, some wide and some
buckled across her lower legs, knees, thighs, forearms, upper
forehead. A burlap rag was stuffed in her mouth and held
by a narrow, cleaving strap. A much wider, mask-like
leather flap cupped her chin, pressed against her mouth as
as a hand-gag, and was secured to the headrest at four points,
on either side of her head.
The unfortunate little waif could
wiggle her toes, flutter her fingers, roll her big, brown, doe
eyes, and squirm her naked back, rump,
and thighs against the ragged sheepskin rug draped over the
seat and back as padding; but all that accomplished was to
of her total helplessness.
The captive's eyes focused on the hourglass. The
sand had finished draining from the upper chamber some time
something like a
half-hour... possibly more. That meant she's been
the chair for more than two
at the very least! This was more "meditation" than
she'd had in mind. Communing with her muse while a
damsel-in-distress was all well and good... but
enough was enough already! Did
Kayley forget me? Constance tested her bonds—a
of course, but how else was she to pass the time? She was
done contemplating the
many ways a
tomboy-hottie could be integrated into Foxwood's standard
role-playing scenarios... and gazing upon the Instruments of Torture had
lost its entertainment value. Okay, Kayley had a feast to
prepare, and some of the items on the menu were demanding and
let her take time off to wander around rescuing damsels; but
they'd agreed on a time-line, so she could be rescued before the goose needed
basting and the seafood casserole had to go into the oven.
Suddenly, she heard the chamber door being unlocked. About time!!
composing a few decidedly pithy
to be delivered as soon as Kay-bear removed her gag. The
opened—and Constance's eyes popped wide. Uh
Princess Alice was
in the threshold, resplendent in her sage
and lavender gown, a disturbingly evil smile on her beautiful face. She
sauntered into the
chamber, her boots tapping on the stone flags. She made a
surveying Constance's naked, helpless form. Of course, no
adjustments to the
Scholar's restraints were required. Cook had done her
professional job of capturing and binding the diminutive
Constance watched as the princess strolled to the table and
the array of instruments. The captive blinked her eyes in
Alice tested the sharpness of a nasty steel probe... then lifted the small
flogger, gave it a tentative swing, and slapped her left
"Ow!" she complained, fluttering the offended hand. "That
like the devil," she
dropped the flogger, focused on the Drow wand... and her smile
even more evil.
picked up the wand, and strolled back to the
"Scholar Clarke," she intoned. "I suppose you thought I
remain ignorant of that delightful
tome of satirical sonnets you
composed? What was the title?" She touched the tip
wand to her chin and rolled her eyes upwards. "Hmm... ah yes!" She lowered
wand. "It was 'The Vain
Princess with the Freakish Orange Hair'...
pressed a stud in the base of the wand, and its glass knob began
with a weak, flickering, reddish light. Simultaneously, it
emitted a high-pitched, pulsing hum,
and the knob began to vibrate.
Constance moaned through her gag. The toys on the table
show! They weren't there to be used!
...not on her,
Everybody knew she came
here for the ambiance—for inspiration only—not to play! Still smiling,
princess touched the knob to Constance's left
nipple. It popped erect, in
response, and she moaned, again.
"Oh, don't be that way, Connie," Alice purred, and used the wand
caress both nipples...
her breasts... her ribs... and her tummy.
Connie continued fighting the straps, and her moans turned into
"We're already late," Alice whispered, as the flickering,
traveled towards Constance's thighs and sex. "But there's
for a little fun...
you agree?" She pressed the knob against Constance's
held it in place. The helpless captive flinched in her bonds and
her eyes tightly closed.
doesn't take very long to lay out
plates, napkins, and finger bowls." She eased back on the
paused for a few seconds, then pressed the Drowish horror hard against Constance's
Constance shuddered and continued to whine, shivering and
through her flaring nostrils. Her breasts heaved and her
rolled, to the extent allowed by the tight straps across her
body, and sweat was glistening on her smooth skin.
"One quick orgasm, Connikins," Alice whispered, leaning close
kissing the captive's sweat-beaded forehead. The wand was
still firmly pressed
sex. "Once that's over, I'll unstrap your left
wrist and arm, bundle your clothes in your robe, and skedaddle."
Constance opened her eyes and glared
at Alice's smiling face.
"By the time you get yourself out of the chair..." Alice
the wand back... then pressed it forward, again. "...I'll
your stuff back in your room." She kissed the tip of
nose. "I know how deliciously embarrassed you get when the others catch you
prancing around the Keep,
Constance growled in complaint—then her eyes
widened as Alice shifted the wand and the sensations quivering
her sex intensified. She never pranced around the Keep naked. In fact,
it was well-known that
she was the
most "respectable" of
Foxwood's denizens. She wasn't a prude, of course.
Skinny-dipping in the pond, bathing in the Roman Bath, or
in the dungeons were all okay... but... streaking
the Keep?? That was something altogether
The prospect of
padding around a corner in the Resident's Wing and... running
into Jillian Foxwood??
Constance mewled through her gag and shivered in dread (and
"You're getting close, aren't you Scholar?" Alice whispered.
You little bitch!
Constance locked eyes with her "torturer". She was getting close.
gloating smile on Alice's face was infuriating! Just you wait! I'll get you,
self-satisfied little twerp! Just you wait!
Alice eased the wand back, yet again... then eased it
until Constance squealed through
gag. The little captive
closed her hands into tight fists and clenched her eyes closed,
"Cum for your princess," Alice purred, her grinning lips less
than an inch from Constance's left ear. She could feel her
"victim's" frantic, panting breath fluttering a few strands of
copper-red hair. "Cum for your princess!"
And the Brave Little Scholar did
and it was very good!
Tales of the