TALES OF THE FOXWOOD B&B _by Van © 2008		_
		Chapter 6

The Decidedly Leisurely
Rescue of the Saxon Maiden
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Hannah followed Jillian through the hallway of the dungeon level, up the stairs, and out into the main Keep.  She was glad she'd been rescued... rescued from the oubliette, that is.  She was still naked and tied up.  Arms folded behind her back; wrists and forearms lashed together in what felt like a continuous tube of neatly wrapped rope; arms pinned to her sides by a tight, shoulder-yoking and breast pinching harness of more rope; and with an iron thrall's collar locked around her throat—there was still a significant amount of rescuing waiting to be accomplished.  Two coils of the rope leash tied to her collar remained dangling from her mouth... so I suppose that technically I'm still gagged, Hannah reasoned.  All she had to do was spit the rope out, of course... but then I'll probably repeatedly trip over the damn thing 'til we get to the Bath... and we wouldn't want that.

They made their way to the Bath Dressing Room without encountering any other Foxwood residents.  Hannah watched as Jillian hung Alice's clothing in one locker and Cricket's burlap shift and loincloth in another.

The Lady of the Keep then took the leash rope from Hannah's mouth and led her to a changing alcove next to the airlock door.  Hannah hadn't noticed before, but this particular changing area was slightly larger than the rest, and the wooden posts supporting the minimal "privacy" screens on either side were thicker and more substantial.  Also, iron rings dangling from spikes had been hammered into each of the vertical columns at about shoulder height.  Still smiling her kind, maternal, but ever-so-slightly gloating smile, Jillian looped the end of Hannah's leash through one of the rings, and tied an elegant knot.  "Wait here," she said, then moved to the neighboring alcove.

"Sure..." Hannah responded.  "No problem."  She watched as Jillian opened the alcove's locker, then began unbuttoning her gown.  Oh... I guess it does make sense for her not to get her gown wet, Hannah thought.  In short order, the green velvet gown in question was hanging in the locker.  Jillian's white linen chemise was sleeveless, like the undergarment Hannah had worn earlier (until she had been "tricked" into disrobing by "The Evil Baroness Sydney").  She noted the abundance of freckles on Jillian's toned arms, then the redhead sat on the alcove's bench and Hannah's view was blocked by the intervening screen.  She heard the clatter of Jillian's boots on the floor,  Seconds later, the redhead came back into view, disappeared when she stooped to deposit her boots in the locker, then came into view again and began removing her chemise.

The locker door closed, and Jillian returned to Hannah's alcove... in all her nude, shapely, freckled glory.  The Mistress' body was incredible—athletic, well-toned, lithe, and... "So beautiful!"

Jillian's smile broadened.  "Thank you, Hannah," she said.

Oh god!  I said that ALOUD??  Hannah's cheeks burned as she blushed bright crimson.  "Uh... I see you go skinny-dipping too.  In the pond, I mean... like Alice and Cricket."

"Do I?" Jillian asked.  Clearly, she was enjoying Hannah's embarrassment.

"The freckles..." Hannah explained.  "All those freckles... uh... everywhere."

"Weather permitting," Jillian said, "we all enjoy swimming in the pond, although the Celtic members of our family do have to slather on extra sunscreen."  She untied Hannah's leash from the ring and led her towards the airlock door.  "Kay-bear is nice enough to mix some commercial product with fragrant oils and put it in little ceramic pots for us, so we can be properly 'authentic'."

"I see," Hannah responded, still blushing.  Jillian's breasts had no noticeable sag, and her arms, stomach, and thighs were smooth and firm.  I hope I look that good when I'm... how old is she?  Do they have a Fountain of Youth hidden on the grounds someplace?

They passed through the airlock, into the Bath, and padded towards the cleaning area.

"If you decide to join us at the pond," Jillian continued, "I insist you use 'Kayley's Creme' as well.  You might have that beautiful 'Saxon' complexion—and tan maintenance is okay, of course—but sunscreen is mandatory."

"Thanks," Hannah said, "about the tan, I mean—and I already use sunscreen."

"Good," Jillian laughed, and pointed to the drainboard under the first shower head.  "Stand," she ordered.  Hannah complied, and Jillian grabbed the chain and gave it a pull.

Hannah closed her eyes and let the blood-warm water drench her hair and body.  The shower stopped and she shook the hair from her face, opened her eyes, and watched Jillian walk to the drying rack.  She noted that Jillian was only a little wet, and her long, copper-red curls were completely dry.  "Lady Foxwood" filled a bucket under a tap, then returned to Hannah's side lugging the bucket, a bar of soap, a wooden ladle, and a sponge.  She wet the sponge, rubbed it on the soap to raise some suds, and for the next several minutes gently scrubbed Hannah's body, pausing now and then to ladle water over her "thrall's" smooth, tan skin.

"Wouldn't this work better if I was untied?" Hannah asked, quietly.

Jillian smiled.  "This is perfectly adequate," she purred.  "Besides, if I untie you, it will invalidate this portion of your 'special' indoctrination."

"How?" Hannah demanded.

"There's only one way for you to learn what long-term rope bondage is truly like," Jillian answered.

"Long-term?" Hannah gasped.  "Uh, I mean... how long-term?"

Jillian laughed.  "Only until sundown.  Seriously, Hannah, you need to learn what it's like to be a bound prisoner.  Sydney's techniques are dramatically less punishing than the sort of thing Lydia and her colleagues do to their more masochistically inclined clients... but you still need the experience."

Hannah heaved a slightly nervous sigh.  "Please tell me this is not the first of many such 'indoctrinations'."

"The program does include a long-term session with chains," Jillian answered, "but we don't have to do everything right away."

"Thank you," Hannah huffed.

Jillian laughed, again.  She pulled the shower chain to give Hannah a final rinse, then retrieved the end of her leash and led her towards the pool.

Hannah gazed at the still waters with a dubious eye.  "Uh, I'd just as soon not go for a dip while this tied up, okay?"

"Okay," Jillian agreed, "but actually, I thought you might enjoy the hot tub while I work on your hair."  She led Hannah around the pool and towards the lounging area.

Hannah pointed her feet and curled her toes, enjoying the bubbles caressing her pleasantly over-heated, bound body.  She was seated on the stone bench built into the hot tub's interior, her shoulders and bound arms against the side, and the back of her head resting comfortably against the tub's stone parapet.  The steaming, churning water came to the top of her breasts.  Her eyes were closed and her smiling face was glistening with sweat.  "This is nice," she sighed.

"I'm afraid I can't leave you in there too long," Jillian cooed, "or you'll be parboiled."  She had used a thick, thirsty towel to dry Hannah's hair before helping her into the tub, and was now using a wooden comb to gently work the snarls and tangles from Hannah's damp, blond locks.

"Just a little longer," Hannah whispered.

Jillian continued combing Hannah's hair.  Soon, the still slightly damp strands were fanned out before her, long and straight.  She carefully parted Hannah's hair down the middle, subdivided the right half into three equal parts, combed the sections smooth, and began plaiting them together.

"What are you doing?" Hannah asked in a sleepy voice.

"Shh... hold still," Jillian scolded.  "Your hair is a little short, but I think it's just long enough to experiment with braids.  Is that okay?"

"Like I have a choice?" Hannah groused, but she held her head perfectly still, as ordered.

"So..." Jillian continued, as she carefully compacted the right braid, "due diligence aside, Master Artisan... are you enjoying yourself?"

Hannah blinked her eyes, then carefully restored her mask of calm professionalism.  "Uh... it's interesting being tied up... an interesting experience, I mean... and I can see why it's necessary for me to understand what happens to the 'special' guests, and all... but I'd just as soon get on with my real job."

Jillian used a leather thong to bind the end of the right braid, then began plaiting the left.  "And how do you know being a helpless thrall isn't your real job?" she asked, a teasing smile curling her lips.

Another of those inconvenient, seemingly endless supply of quivering thrills shuddered through Hannah's overheated sex, but she maintained her composure... she hoped.  "Very funny."

"Yes," Jillian laughed, "I am teasing you... and I can tell you are enjoying yourself."

"Like I said," Hannah responded, "this is interesting, but I'm not weak."

"Oh, Hannah," Jillian chuckled, "weakness has nothing to do with it."

"I'm not weak," Hannah reiterated.

Jillian finished binding the left braid.  "There, let's get you out of the pot before you turn into a lobster."  She helped Hannah to stand, then used the rope still dangling from her iron collar to lead the bound maiden to the steps interrupting the interior seating.

Hannah carefully climbed from the hot, bubbling water, stepped over the tub's parapet, then stood, in a pool of draining water, as Jillian used the towel to dry her flushed body.

"No one could ever think of you as weak," Jillian reassured her captive, as she rubbed the thick terrycloth over Hannah's skin.

"Did... did Lydia tell you she thinks I'm a subbie?" Hannah asked, quietly.

"No," Jillian answered, with a kindly smile.  "She'd never betray your privacy like that, but she didn't have to tell me, Hannah."

"No!" Hannah muttered.  "I'm not a damn subbie, and I'm not weak—ahh!"  Jillian was using the towel to dry between Hannah's legs... and she was taking her time doing it!  "I'm not weak."

"I told you," Jillian purred, "weakness had nothing to do with it."  She led Hannah to one of the couch-like lounging nooks built into the side of the alcove.  She paused to open a large wicker basket and pull out what appeared to be a focaccia rug of natural wool.  She draped its thick, fleece-like length over the stone couch, then reclined, pulling Hannah to her side.

Hannah snuggled against the soft, furry cushion and Jillian's smooth, firm body.  "I'm not a weak subbie," she huffed, but clearly, she wasn't really angry.

"You're the youngest of five siblings, correct?" Jillian inquired.

"All brothers," Hannah confirmed, "but how do you know that?"

"I googled 'Blair Construction'," Jillian explained, "the first employer listed on your resumé.  Were you the spoiled princess of the Blair household, or did your brothers tease and torment you unmercifully?"

"A little of both," Hannah chuckled.

"And that's why you left the family business?"  Jillian put one arm behind Hannah's shoulders and pulled her even closer.

"No," Hannah answered, with a contented sigh.  "I left because it became obvious that if I stayed, eventually, I'd be the full-time 'office babe' doing nothing but keeping the books, filing invoices, and updating time-sheets.  I like doing things with my hands.  Leaving was the hardest thing I've ever done."

"And the bravest, no doubt," Jillian whispered, and kissed the top of Hannah's head.  "In any case, what makes you think being a 'subbie' means you're a weakling?"

"How could it be otherwise?" Hannah demanded.  "Only a weakling would let someone walk all over them."

Jillian hugged Hannah even closer.  "Hannah, I admire your spirit, but I think your resistance is... misdirected.  If you were a real prisoner, of course, I'd expect you to resist—but this is a game, isn't it?"

Hannah paused for several seconds.  "Well," she said finally, "is it?"

"I've already told you being a prisoner isn't your real job," Jillian laughed.  There was nothing mocking or even remotely sinister in her tone.  "If you wish," Jillian continued, "I'll untie you and we can repeat the indoctrination at a later date.  Is that want you want?"

Hannah stretched in her bonds, then shook her head.  "No... I'm okay.  We might as well get this over with.  I'm not in any pain."

"Hannah, I swear that no one at Foxwood will ever do anything to harm you," Jillian said.  "You may be helpless, at the moment, but you're as safe as can be.  Do you believe me?"

"Of course!" Hannah blurted.  "I trust you, Jillian."  And she did, despite all that had happened, and all that Sydney had done to her.

"Such a gift is beyond value, Hannah," Jillian whispered, then cleared her throat.

Hannah blinked in surprise.  Was the Mistress of the Keep crying?  "Jillian?" she whispered.  "Are you okay?"

"Hush," Jillian answered, and cleared her throat, again.  "Now... there are all sorts of damsels-in-distress, and the only truly weak one I know about is the 'Simpering Slave', and that's not you."

"Damn straight!" Hannah muttered.

"On the other hand," Jillian continued, "there's the 'Defiant Warrior'.  She might be a helpless captive, but she never surrenders, and she's not weak."

Hannah considered Jillian's words (and did her best to ignore the way the redhead's hands were gently caressing her shoulders and stomach).  "But, she let herself get captured, so..."

Jillian laughed.  "I doubt if a Mighty Female Warrior allows herself to be captured," she purred, "unless it's a ruse.  Your capture was the start of our game, Saxon Maiden," she whispered, nuzzling Hannah's neck.  "Is it so bad, being my brave, defiant captive?"

"No," Hannah whispered in return.  Should I kiss her? she wondered.  Do I dare?

Suddenly, Hannah heard the echoing sound of the airlock door opening.   She turned her face towards the pool (painfully aware that she was blushing furiously) and watched Kayley Barbano enter the bath—a naked, smiling, Kayley Barbano.

Kayley waved, then turned and walked to the cleaning alcove.  Hannah watched the "Mistress of the Kitchen" shower and scrub her body clean.

"She's magnificent, isn't she?" Jillian whispered.

"Yes," Hannah agreed.  Even at this distance she could appreciate Kayley's firm muscles and shapely form.  She was anything but an over-muscled amazon, however.  Her curves were feminine and strong, her waist thin, and her lanky frame was athletic without her muscles being too well-defined.  Her breasts were reasonably small, smaller than Hannah's... or Jillian's... but they were firm and well-rounded.  Her smooth skin was tan, with a Mediterranean, olive cast.  She took a final rinse, returned her soap and sponge to the rack, then sauntered to the pool and dove in.

"Yes, magnificent," Jillian purred, as Kayley slowly, gracefully swam towards them.  "You wouldn't consider Kayley to be weak, would you, Hannah?"

"What?"  Hannah couldn't have been more surprised if Jillian had asked if she thought Kayley was a giraffe.  "What do you mean?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Jillian chuckled, and kissed the side of Hannah's head.  "Just keep the question in mind."

Meanwhile, Kayley had reached the shallow end of the pool and was mounting the steps to the lounging alcove.  Her trademark, quirky smile curled her dark lips, and her pale, gray-blue eyes flashed with amusement.  "Saxon braids suit you, Hannah," she said, then picked up the towel, patted her face, and began drying her body.

"Her hair's too short to really carry it off," Jillian responded, "but once it grows out... like waist-length, perhaps... we can do it full-bodied to her shoulders, with the initial plaits loose and thick, then gradually tapering to long, tight braids."

"Real Saxon braids," Kayley nodded.  "Please tell me you'll let it grow, Hannah... please?"

Hannah was busy trying not to stare at Kayley's dark nipples, firm abs, and thick pubic curls.  "Uh... okay," she answered.

"Hannah wants us to know that she's not weak," Jillian announced.

"Is that right?" Kayley laughed, then her expression changed to apologetic concern at the sight of the crimson blush on Hannah's mortified face.  "I'm sorry, Hannah," she whispered, then scowled at Jillian.  "Very funny, Freckle-puss," she sneered.

Jillian hugged Hannah close.  "I'm sorry, Hannah," she chuckled, then turned her smile to the still frowning Kayley.  "I was explaining the difference between the Simpering Slave and the Defiant Warrior," she said, "how Hannah could be both strong and a helpless captive."

Kayley shook her head.  "And doing a rather ham-fisted job of it, it would seem.  Move over."

Jillian slid from her semi-reclined position to sit upright, with her legs extended towards the hot tub.  She pulled Hannah with her.  Kayley stepped forward and sat to the left, sandwiching Hannah between them.

"By the way," Kayley said, "lunch is a sandwich buffet on the Common Room bar, as everyone seems to be out and about doing who knows what.  Just before I left, Sydney darted out and grabbed a plate, then retreated back to her room."

An arm over Hannah's shoulders, Jillian leaned close and kissed the "Saxon Thrall's" lips.  "Achilles is sulking in her tent?" she purred.  "I guess Little Sister is too frightened of our new Resident Artisan to do otherwise."

"You behave!" Kayley scolded her boss.  "Where are the 'Bobbsey Twins'?"

"Otherwise disposed," Jillian answered.  "Constance?"

"Haven't seen the Scholar," Kayley responded, then leaned close and kissed Hannah's lips, as well.  "Hungry, Hannah?" she inquired.  "I'll fetch you a sandwich, if you like.  How 'bout some of the leftover Beef Wellington—without the crust, of course—sliced thin, with just a splash of mushroom gravy, on fresh French bread?  ...Hannah?"

Hannah was struggling to ignore Jillian's right hand, which had resumed its gentle caress, and was inching dangerously close to her thighs.  "Uh... thanks... I mean no... no thanks."

"I assume you've asked permission," Kayley asked Jillian, frowning at the redhead's wandering hand.

"She's not gagged," Jillian purred.  "She's said no to your sandwich, but she hasn't said no to me."

"She doesn't have to say no," Kayley said, her blue eyes flashing, "she has to say yes."

"What about it, Hannah?" Jillian whispered.  "Do you want me to stop?"  Her hand stroked Hannah's outer thigh.  "I don't think you want me to stop."

"No," Hannah moaned, "I mean yes... I mean..."

"She'll stop if I tell her," Kayley whispered in Hannah's left ear.  "But I don't think you want her to stop, either.  Do you, Hannah?"

Hannah's heart was hammering.  She tugged against Sydney's ropes.  Both women's hands were sliding over her body... her thighs... her stomach and breasts.  "I... yes.  Don't stop," she whispered.

Jillian nuzzled Hannah's right ear and her hand stroked the captive's inner thigh and brushed against the her moist, flushed sex.  Kayley's left hand was gently kneading Hannah's right breast; then she leaned close and kissed her left nipple.

Hannah continued fighting her bonds, then turned her head, locked eyes with Jillian—and their lips met in a savage kiss.  Their lips smacked and tongues slid together, then Jillian pulled back.

"Are you sure, Hannah?" the Mistress of the Keep asked.  "Are you sure?"

"Yes—ahh!"  Kayley was sucking on her breast, Jillian's hand was tickling her labia, and it was getting very difficult to engage in any kind of conversation.

"All right then," Jillian purred, put her hand on Kayley's shoulder, and gave her a gentle push away from Hannah's body.  "We'll do this right."

"What?  Why'd you stop?" Hannah demanded.  "M'mmpfh!"

Jillian had her palm over Hannah's lips in a tight hand-gag.  "Get some more rope," she told Kayley, "and one of the bridle-gags."

Several minutes later, Hannah was seated on one of the lounging area's low, throne-like, stone chairs, leaning against the sloping back on her bound arms and cushioned by the thick fleece of the focaccia rug.  Her knees were splayed and her legs bent over the chair's armrests; however, she was in no danger of sliding from her precarious perch, thanks to the rope bands lashing her ankles and knees against the sides of the seat.  In addition, rope passed through the staple in the back of her collar, wound around the chair, was hitched through her box-tie bondage, and was knotted somewhere behind the seat, near the floor.

Hannah wasn't going anywhere.  In addition, she wasn't going to be registering any complaints.

A soft wad of faux-burlap was stuffed in her mouth and held there by a "bridle-gag".  A butter-soft flap of leather was pressed against her lips, and held there by a symmetrical network of thin straps that crossed under her chin, bridged her nose, passed under her ears, encircled her brows, and were buckled at the nape of her neck and behind her head.  Her blond braids flopped to either side as she shook her head, testing the gag.  She didn't bother trying to make any noise.  What was the point?  She dropped her chin and looked down at the ropes squeezing her breasts, her crunched abs, splayed thighs, and her embarrassingly prominent sex.

Jillian and Kayley, the authors of her condition (not counting Sydney's box-tie), stood before her, hand in hand.

"Just look at her," Kayley sighed.  "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Very beautiful," Jillian agreed, then leaned close and whispered in Kayley's ear.

Kayley listened... then her incredible blue eyes popped wide and she beamed a delighted smile.  "Really?" she gasped, and kissed Jillian.  "I thought you were gonna be selfish and claim her initiation for yourself."

Jillian shook her head, then turned to Hannah.  "Remember our discussion of weakness?" she inquired, then turned back to Kayley.  "One more coil of rope," she ordered.

Kayley raised an eyebrow... then shrugged and went to the wicker basket from which she had produced the rest of Hannah's new bonds.  She pulled out a coil of soft, faux-hemp, returned to Hannah's throne, and handed the rope to Jillian.  "What more do you want to do?" she asked, smiling at Hannah.  "There's not a lot left of the poor thing you can tie up."

Jillian's smile turned evil, for the first time since Hannah had met her.  (Another thrill rippled through her sex, and this time it was very strong.)

"Reverse-prayer," Jillian purred.

Kayley smiled, bit her lower lip, then spun on her heel and crossed her wrists high behind her back, with her elbows tucked against her sides and her fingers touching her shoulder blades.

Hannah watched as Jillian used the rope to bind Kayley's wrists, hands, and thumbs, and to pin her arms to her torso.  The technique was similar to the box-tie Sydney had used to bind her, but only a single strand of rope passed above and below Kayley's breasts and yoked her shoulders.  A knot was tied, linking Kayley's wrists to the rope at the nape of her neck, then Jillian pulled the other, much longer free end of the rope down, took a cinch around Kayley's waist, then pulled it between her legs.

Jillian spun Kayley around.  Hannah's now fellow-prisoner flashed her a heart-achingly beautiful smile, then locked eyes with her captor.  Meanwhile, Jillian was busy tying a series of figure-eight knots in the crotch rope.  She snugged the string of knots between Kayley's labia, giving it a shake and a tug, to make sure it was nestled exactly where she wanted it.  Kayley gasped and bit her lower lip, again, but her eyes never wavered from Jillian's smiling face.  The Lady of the Keep tucked the rope under Kayley's waist rope, pulled it tight enough to drag the waist and crotch rope into a taut "Y", then tied an elegant knot.

"That should hold you," Jillian purred.

Kayley shifted her gaze to Hannah, and Hannah decided she'd never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life as those icy blue orbs or that teasing, quirky smile.

"When you're finished playing with my new thrall," Jillian continued, leaning close until her coral lips were less than an inch from Kayley's left ear, "you have three options: knock on Sydney's door and beg her to untie you, find Constance and beg her to untie you, or you can try and find me."

"And who's going to cook dinner?" Kayley purred.

"The reefer is stuffed with leftovers from last night's feast," Jillian answered.  "Anyone who can't fend for themselves tonight deserves to go hungry."

"And what about Alice and The Cricket?" Kayley inquired, her eyes still on Hannah.

"I'll be moving them to more comfortable accommodations for the night," Jillian answered.  "I said you could try and find me... I didn't say it would be easy."

"So... I'm to go on a bound, naked quest, searching the entire Keep for wherever you decide to spend the evening?" Kayley demanded.

"Something like that," Jillian chuckled, then whispered in Kayley's ear.

Her eyes locked with Hannah's, Kayley listened to Jillian's words... then her eyes popped wide, and her smile became even more beautiful (which Hannah hadn't thought possible, and sent another thrill through her splayed sex).

"That's cruel!" Kayley whispered, loud enough for Hannah to hear, then shuddered as Jillian kissed her ear.

"Play nice," Jillian told the captive brunette, then walked to the chair, took Hannah's head in her two hands, and kissed her gagged lips.  "You too," she added, then walked towards the airlock.

Hannah watched Jillian's swaying, copper-red mane, strong back, narrow waist, firm buttocks, gracefully scissoring legs, and pale feet as she crossed the distance to the door... and was gone.

Hannah swiveled her head to find that Kayley had also been watching Jillian's departure.

Kayley's eyes shifted back to Hannah.  "Wicked, Evil Lady Jillian doesn't come out to play very often," she purred, "but when she does..."  She sighed, eyed the floor in front of Hannah's throne, then turned and pattered to another of the wicker baskets.

Hannah watched as the bound, naked prisoner adroitly kicked the lid from the basket, leaned inside, and pulled out a second focaccia rug with her teeth.  The fleecy mass dangling from her grimacing mouth, she dragged it to Hannah's chair, dropped it on the floor, and used her toes to grab its edge and pull it into some semblance of order.

Kayley sat on the rug, scissored her legs to one side, and smiled up at Hannah.  "You've already said yes," the grinning captive reminded her fellow prisoner, "but I'll give you one more chance to say no."

Hannah squirmed in her bonds and gazed down at Kayley's helpless body... not as helpless as Hannah was, at the moment... but deliciously, cruelly bound, with her arms wrenched behind her back and lashed in place by single strands of rope dimpling her firm, tan flesh.  Slowly, as if in a trance, Hannah nodded her gagged head.

"Oh, Hannah," Kayley whispered.  "You're so beautiful all tied up like that."

Hannah shivered in her bonds.  Her sex felt like it was dripping.  She was more than ready for whatever Kayley was going to do.

Kayley tucked her legs under her body and heaved herself up onto her knees.  She then leaned close and kissed Hannah's navel... let her tongue trail down to Hannah's pubic bush... then took a delicate bite of the dark blond curls in her teeth and tugged, her incredible blue eyes smiling up at Hannah's gagged face.

Hannah shuddered and fought her bonds.

Kayley released Hannah's curlies, extended her tongue, and gave her fellow-captive's labia a slow, kittenish lick.

Hannah moaned through her gag as the first lick was followed by more, and Kayley's wet tongue probed deeper... and deeper... and caressed her clitoris... and her lips began nibbling and nuzzling her labia.

"Hmm... yummy," Kayley purred, pausing to lick her musky lips, then resumed her exploration of Hannah's most intimate person.

It went on and on, and Hannah could do nothing to make it stop.  (As if she wanted to make it stop!)  She was tied up and helpless, and Kayley, her fellow captive, could do anything she wanted to her! (...within the limits of her bonds, of course.)  Hannah writhed and struggled, as incredible, unendurable waves of pleasure coursed through her bound body.  She screamed through her gag with all her might, clenched her eyes tightly closed—then opened them wide and stared up at the arched ceiling—and it wouldn't stop!  She clenched her eyes, again—shuddered, arched her back until the ropes bit into her flesh—and came!

Hannah relaxed in her bonds and savored the afterglow of what had been an incredible multiple orgasm.  She curled her toes and shivered in delight, then opened her eyes to find Kayley gracefully sitting on the fleecy rug she'd arranged at the foot of the chair.  Her long, smooth, shapely legs were folded to one side, and she was smiling up at Hannah.

"Well..." Kayley purred, "I don't think I need to ask if you enjoyed that."

Hannah smiled down at her fellow captive.  Her rope-pinched breasts heaved and her nostrils flared above her gag as her breathing returned to normal.  Her skin was glistening with sweat, her nipples were rock-hard, and her sex was flushed and wet.

Still smiling, Kayley sighed and climbed to her feet, only slightly encumbered by her tightly bound condition.  "I'm afraid it's not possible for me to untie you," she apologized, "not with my fingers and thumbs useless like this."  She did a half turn to show the tightly bound appendages in question, for emphasis.  "And it's impossible to untie Jillian's magical rosette knots with just your lips and tongue; and that gag has spring-clips and friction clamps that lock the buckles.  You have to compress the sides with one hand while you lift the tongue with the other.  Sorry."

Hannah heaved a theatrical sigh, but her eyes were still smiling.  And I'm certainly not in any position to untie her, she noted.

Kayley stepped behind Hannah's chair, then leaned close and kissed her right shoulder, and then her left.  Hannah lifted her chin to gaze up at her Kayley's smiling face, and the brunette leaned close and kissed her gagged lips.  "Don't worry, brave maiden," she whispered.  "I'll find a way to rescue you, and together we'll defeat these British tyrants."  She kissed Hannah again, then pattered away towards airlock door.

Hannah watched Kayley's tousled, wet hair, her strong shoulders, her rope-bound, tightly folded arms, her dimpled rump (bisected by Jillian's cruel crotch-rope), and her long, shapely legs as she made her way to the door.  Kayley lifted her right leg, hopped on her left foot, and used her toes to work the handle and open the door—proving that it was possible to be both awkward and graceful at the same time.  She smiled back at Hannah over her shoulder, passed through the door, and was gone.

Hannah let her head fall back, and sighed.  I hope she was serious about that 'rescue', she thought.  She wasn't uncomfortable, at the moment, but eventually her splayed legs and bent spine would probably start complaining.  She felt weak, not emotionally weak—she suspected Jillian and Kayley may have cured her of that problem—but physically weak.  Weak as a kitten, she sighed, a sexually gratified, funky, sweaty, exhausted kitten.

A little later, in the Resident's Wing...

---

As was her habit this time of year, when the early afternoon sun streamed through her bedroom window and raised the temperature several degrees, Constance had stripped to her chemise and bare feet,  She was working at her computer desk, tapping out the first draft of a chapter of her new novel.  She paused to push her granny glasses up the bridge of her nose, restoring them to their proper place, and stared at the screen, considering a complete restructuring of the current paragraph.

Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door.

"It's open!" Constance shouted.

A few seconds later, the pounding repeated.  It wasn't the sound of knocking, but rather like someone was kicking the lower panel.

"Oh, bother!" Constance huffed, moused to the "Save" icon and gave it a tap, then folded down the lid of the desk, hiding the flat-screen monitor, keyboard, and mouse.  There were no guests in the Keep, at the moment, but Jillian had instilled the habit of hiding their modern tools and conveniences in all the residents.  She climbed to her feet, stomped to the door, and jerked it open.  "Okay," she demanded, "what—oh!"

Kayley was in the hallway... and she was naked and tied up!

"Afternoon, Scholar," the smiling captive purred.

Constance stared, in open-mouthed, wide-eyed wonder.  She saw Kayley naked all the time, of course, in the bath or skinny-dipping in the pond—but naked and bound??

"Do us both a favor and take a bath," Kayley suggested.

A bath??  Constance blinked in astonishment.  "W-what?"

"You heard me," Kayley laughed, leaned close and planted a quick kiss on the diminutive scholar's blushing cheek.

"I don't need a bath," Constance objected.

"Oh, I think you do," Kayley chuckled, "and I know you'll be very glad if you scurry on down to the Bath and take one, right now."

"Kayley, what's gotten into you?" Constance demanded.

"Nothing, yet, other than this crotch-rope," Kayley responded, "but I have high hopes for later."  She leaned close, again, and kissed the now furiously blushing Constance on the lips—and this time it was one of her trademark, wet and enthusiastic, full-force "Kayley-Kisses".  "Just do what I tell you and take a bath, please?" she whispered.

"Uh... okay," Constance agreed.

"That's my girl!" Kayley beamed, kissed Constance a third time, then turned and padded away down the hall.

Constance watched Kayley's beautiful, reverse-prayer bound form depart, then lifted her right arm and gave her armpit a delicate sniff.  "But... I really don't need one!  Do I, Kay-bear?" she called.  Her only answer was a faint, girlish giggle echoing back from around the corner.  The naked, captive cook was gone.

What the hell is happening? Constance wondered.  She reached for her academic robe and pulled it on, then slid her feet into a pair of slippers.  The puzzled scholar then stepped into the hallway, pulled the door closed behind her, and headed for the Bath.