by Van ©2012
		Chapter 10

Before leaving the basement, Cassie paused at the laundry area's deep sink and used a rag and a ratty old towel to scrub the worst of the dungeon dirt from her legs and feet.  She'd still need a shower before joining Jillian in the hot tub, but first she had something to do.

Cassie padded up the stairs to the kitchen, through the first floor hallway, and up the stairs to the second floor.  She passed the empty Lowly Clerks' bedroom, stopped at Cricket and Hannah's guest bedroom, and listened at the door.  After waiting a few seconds and hearing nothing, she quietly knocked.  Tap, tap, tap.

"Come in," a soprano voice answered.  It was Cricket.

Cassie smiled and opened the door.  Cricket was sitting up in bed, her back supported by pillows piled against the headboard.  A book was in her lap and the bedside lamp cast a pool of light on her petite, nightie-clad body and smiling face.

Hannah was not in bed.  She was naked and bound and gagged.

Specifically, Hannah's wrists and elbows were bound behind her back and her ankles and knees tied together.  Something substantial, a bandana or scarf, perhaps, was stuffed in her mouth and held there by a narrowly folded scarf tied as a tight cleave-gag.  Her arms were raised towards the ceiling in the strappado position.  In addition, her long blond hair was plaited in a tight braid and the tip tied back to her bound thumbs by a taut length of cord, pulling her head back and lifting her chin.  Finally, her knees were slightly bent and another taut cord linked her big toes to the connecting chain of the pair of clover-clamps squeezing her nipples.

It was something of a predicament—a decidedly cruel and flawlessly executed predicament.

Hannah could neither lock her knees and stand fully erect, nor could she drop to the floor and kneel.  Straightening her legs would tighten the toes-to-nipple-clamp cord even further, while kneeling would wrench her shoulders and, thanks to the braid-to-thumbs cord, punish her scalp.  Cassie's practiced eye could tell that Cricket, the obvious perpetrator of the outrage, had rigged Hannah's condition with consummate skill.  If Hannah did decide to lock her knees and relieve her shoulders, the clamps would inflict what Cricket would term "a significant owie," but they wouldn't cause actual damage.  Similarly, if Hannah decided she had to kneel, the resulting pose would not dislocate her shoulders and it certainly wouldn't rip out any of her hair.

Cassie had sent Cricket to Foxwood as both an experienced "bondagette" and a qualified rigger.  She was simultaneously proud of her student and appalled by the way the little pixie was "torturing" her fellow Foxwood Maiden.  That said, she was also more than a little aroused by Hannah's helpless, exquisite body and the brave expression on her beautiful face as she stoically suffered in gagged silence.

"Cricket," Cassie scolded, "you're a wicked, wicked girl."

Cricket closed her book, stretched her arms overhead, and smiled.  "I try."

Cassie couldn't help but smile back.  She strolled to Hannah, placed a hand on the captive's firm, tan butt-cheeks, then lifted her gaze to the ceiling.  The rope enforcing Hannah's strappado pose passed through the "decorative ring" in the center of the simple, Victorian chandelier mounted on the ceiling.  It looked like a typical light fixture, but had been modified by Cody Archer and the ring could easily support twice Hannah's full weight.  Cricket knew this from experience, as this had been her old room back when she was Cassie's shop girl.  The far end of the rope was tied off to a leg of Hannah's bed, or rather, what would be Hannah's bed if and when Cricket decided to set her free (or transfer her still bound and gagged body to the waiting mattress).

"Poor thing," Cassie sighed.  She slid her palm down Hannah's butt to her thighs, back up to her butt, then nodded at Hannah's breasts.  "I believe those are my nipple-clamps, young lady."

"Jillie-bean has nipple-pinchers shaped like spiders," Cricket answered, "but I didn't bring any.  Yes, those are your clover-clamps.  The rope, too.  I hope you don't mind my raiding your kinky stuff."

"I don't mind," Cassie sighed, "but look at what you've done to poor Hannah."

Hannah sighed through her gag.  If this was a Foxwood scenario, Cassie's sympathy would either be a prelude to some serious gloating when she revealed herself to be one of the villains, or it was sincere but coming from a character who was powerless to ease her "suffering."  In any case, Hannah knew better than to expect anything resembling rescue from The Wicked Witch of Sarand-ip.  Cassie wouldn't let Cricket get carried away, but their hostess was very experienced and knew Hannah was nowhere near her "fun" limit.  Besides, Hannah knew Cricket wouldn't do her any harm, regardless.  Hannah wasn't scared, but she wasn't enjoying herself either... not at the moment.

Cassie continued caressing Hannah's tushie.  She noticed Cricket had also tied a tight crotch rope, a horizontal waist band and a vertical strand that traveled between Hannah's butt-cheeks, cleaved her labia, and was tied off in front, under her navel.

Cricket watched Cassie examine the crotch-rope.  "That's to make sure the demon egg I planted in Hannah's hoo-haw remains there," she explained.

"Demon egg?" Cassie inquired.

"A Drowish object that sends waves of ethereal energy through a victim's lotus chakra," Cricket explained.  She lifted an iPad from the bedside table and tapped the screen.

Hannah flinched in her bonds and Cassie could hear a quiet buzzing noise.  "A wireless vibrating egg?" Cassie inquired.

"That's what I said," Cricket grinned.  "You know Jillian only allows magical devices crafted by the Dark Elves.  No modern electronics."  She turned the iPad so Cassie could see its pebbled leather case with silver spider decorations.  "Anyway, yes, a demon egg.  That I did borrow from Jillie-bean."

Cassie watched Hannah shiver and squirm.  "It's very cruel to torment poor Hannah with Drowish magic," she stated.

"Not to worry," Cricket giggled, then tapped the iPad, again.  The buzzing stopped and Hannah relaxed in her bonds, ever so slightly.  She was still in the forced crouch.  "I'm not going to let her cum," Cricket explained.  "Not 'til later... much later."

Cassie shook her head, but couldn't suppress a smile.  "Why is Hannah the one suffering and not you?  And don't even try and tell me you overpowered her."

"Of course not," Cricket giggled.  "Hannah and I were talking about how very sad I am to be separated from my Alice.  I played the sympathy card and seduced her into letting me make her my bitch for the night."

"Oh, Cricket," Cassie sighed, shaking her head, again.

"Don't worry," Cricket smiled.  "When she gets back to Foxwood she'll conspire with Sydney and take it out on Alice.  That'll make Alice miss me even more 'cause she'll want to take it out on me when I get back."

Cassie shook her head a third time.  The sexual politics of Jillian's staff were as Byzantine as ever.  She kissed one of Hannah's tan, sweat glistening cheeks (one of the cheeks on her face) then strolled to the bed.  She leaned close and kissed Cricket.  "Don't torture Jillian's chauffeur too much.  She has to drive Her Ladyship back to Foxwood tomorrow."

"I won't," Cricket promised, then opened her arms, pulled Cassie into a tight hug, and returned the kiss.  "Goodnight, Witchie-poo," she sighed, then released her hug.

"Goodnight, Jester," Cassie chuckled.  "Welcome back."  She strolled to the bedroom door, opened it, and paused in the threshold.  "Would you like to borrow one of the multi-tailed floggers from my closet?" she offered.

"How very kind," Cricket sighed, "but no thanks."

Cassie smiled.  "Goodnight, Hannah."  She blew the blond captive a kiss, then closed the door and was gone.

Cricket favored Hannah with a wicked, dimpled smile, then lifted the iPad.  "Now... where were we?"

Cassie entered her bedroom.  Through the glass of the French doors she could see the top of Jillian's head.  Her guest was still enjoying the hot tub.  Cassie padded into the master bath, peeled off her nightie, the matching panties soiled with dungeon dirt, then dropped both in the laundry hamper.  Next, she gathered her long, black tresses, coiled them atop her head and pinned them in place, then pulled on a clear, translucent, plastic shower cap.

The master bath had both a claw-foot tub and a large, walk-in shower alcove that was virtually a separate room.  The presence of the later was somewhat anachronistic, given the Victorian decor, but Cassie had compensated with appropriately styled plumbing fixtures and tile laid in a pattern that complemented the bedroom suite's period wallpaper.  The entrance had a shower curtain tied back with a sash cord, but it was decorative rather than functional.

Cassie stepped into the alcove, turned the faucet, and water began streaming from the over-sized shower head.  She waited a few seconds for it to come up to temperature, then stepped under the stream.  Eyes closed, she turned in a slow pirouette, running her hands over her body.  She reached towards the pump dispenser of liquid soap conveniently positioned in a wire rack next to similar dispensers of shampoo and conditioner, then dropped her hands to her sides and smiled.

Jillian was standing in the shower's doorway.  Her nude, freckled body had been toweled dry but was still flushed from the hot tub.  A coy, leering smile on her face, she was tucking her hair under a translucent, Nile green, plastic shower cap, an item from her personal toiletry kit.  "Allow me, Mistress," she purred, then entered the shower, pumped a dab of soap onto her palm, rubbed her hands together, then began running her hands over Cassie's body.

Cassie smiled and placed her hands atop her head.  "So... I'm your Mistress?"

Jillian continued gliding her hands over Cassie's tan, wet, firm body.  "Foxwood is my domain," Jillian said.  "Sarand-ip is yours.  I know my place."

"I see," Cassie chuckled.  She turned in another slow pirouette, a very slow pirouette, allowing Jillian to soap virtually every square inch of her body.  Once Cassie was clean from the waist up, Jillian knelt and soaped her thighs, lower legs, and bare feet.  Special attention was paid to Cassie's firm, dimpled buttocks and the area between her legs.  The water washed away the last of the suds and the Mistress of Sarand-ip was squeaky clean.

Cassie smiled down at the still kneeling Jillian.  "So," Cassie purred, "you may think you know your place, but I know how to put you in your place."  She turned off the shower, then took a step towards the shower entrance.  With a leering smile she untied the shower curtain's sash cord, lifted it from its hook, and returned to loom over the still smiling Jillian.  "Stand and turn around," she ordered.

Jillian complied.

The sash cord was surprisingly long, given its supposed purpose.  That said, it was just long enough for Cassie to yoke Jillian's shoulders by passing the cord under her left armpit, up and behind her head, under her right armpit and back to the rear.  She tied a quick knot, then used the remaining cord to bind Jillian's wrists behind her back and just below her shoulder blades in a stringent, palm-to-palm reverse-prayer.  "Back on your knees," she ordered.

Again, Jillian complied.

Hands atop Jillian's head, Cassie smiled down at her captive's upturned, smiling face.  "I think you know what to do," she purred.

Jillian lowered her gaze to the moisture beaded curls of Cassie's pubic bush.  "Yes, Mistress," she whispered and leaned close.  She pressed her wet face against Cassie's equally wet crotch and dragged her tongue across her captor's labia.

"It's a simple question," Tiffany said when Ashley failed to answer after several seconds.  "Are we a couple?"

"Oh, please," Ashley responded.  "That's anything but a simple question."

"Okay, you're right," Tiffany sighed, then settled to the dusty, filthy floor, lying on her side and mirroring Ashley's prone pose.  Trying to keep clean was already a lost cause, so she figured she might as well try for comfort—or as much comfort as the hard floor and her bonds would allow.  "I still want an answer."

Ashley squirmed and rolled from her side onto her butt and bound arms, further distributing dirt across her glistening body in the process. She stared up at the timber-clad ceiling and the dimly glowing, iron grid-protected and recessed light fixture directly overhead.  Cassie's "basement dungeon" wasn't exactly stifling, but the temperature was decidedly tropical and both prisoners were beginning to sweat.  "Jillian really knows her rope-work," she noted, "and these 'medieval' mitts and cuffs are something else."  Both girls were box-tied.  That is, their upper arms were pinned against their sides with their arms folded behind their backs and their leather-encased hands and steel fettered wrists lashed against their spines.  In addition, their legs were bound together at the knees and ankles.

"Don't change the subject," Tiffany huffed.

"Okay," Ashley sighed.  "Are we a couple?  I suppose.  Some kind of couple, anyway."  She managed a weak smile.  "I don't want to start planning a wedding, but you're my best friend, you have been forever, and I love you like a sister."

"A sister you tie up and ravish with a giant Hitachi vibrator," Tiffany muttered.  "Not to mention your tongue."  A precious smile curled her lips

"Yeah," Ashley agreed.  "That kind of sister."  She smiled back at her fellow prisoner.  "You're got something on your face."

"I've got something on my everything," Tiffany sighed, "and so do you.  By morning we'll both look like we've been wrestling in a coal mine."

"Speaking of wrestling," Ashley purred, "If you let me, I might be able to squirm on over and untie your knees and ankles with my teeth."

"And what would be the point of that?" Tiffany demanded.

Ashley's smile widened.  "One, it would give me something to do.  Two, you'd be able to spread your legs, which would give me something else to do.  And three, we're supposedly in the middle of a role-playing scenario and even if we can't get completely free, it's our duty to try and escape, and we can't escape from Evil Slavers with our legs tied."

"If you can use your teeth to untie my legs, why can't you use them to untie my arms?"  Tiffany squirmed her upper body for emphasis.

"There are only so many hours in the night," Ashley answered, "and given the macramé-like knots Cassie used for that box-tie, I'm not sure I could tease them apart if I had a week."

"Well," Tiffany sighed, "that still leaves your reasons one and two.  Wouldn't want you to get bored."

Ashley grinned.  "How very considerate of you."  She squirmed towards her BFF until her dirty face was close to Tiffany's grubby knees.  "Guess what.  Cassie tied your knees with a slip-knot."

"A slip-knot?"

"A slip-knot," Ashley confirmed, then lifted her legs until both captives could see her bound knees.  "My knees are tied with one of her fancy knots, but your knees are gift wrapped."  She glanced down at Tiffany's ankles.  "Both our ankles got fancy knots."

"It's almost as if she wants you to untie my knees," Tiffany said.

Ashley smiled.  "Almost?"  She leaned close, took the free end of the slip-knot in her teeth, and pulled the knot apart.

Tiffany watched her BFF continue tugging on the ropes with her teeth and lips and freeing her knees.  "This is kinda bizarre," she said.

Ashley was making quick work of worrying apart the increasingly slack bands and hitches of synthetic hemp.  "Ya think?" she mumbled through a mouthful of rope as she whipped her head and tossed the last strand aside.

"Wait!" Tiffany blurted.

"What?"

"Cassie says you're the Top and I'm the Bottom."

"So?"

Tiffany sighed.  "Shouldn't I be the one doing you?"

Ashley smiled.  "I think Cassie knows best, but I get your point.  We both have a lot to learn about this Top-slash-Bottom stuff... and being a couple."

Deep in thought, Tiffany nodded in agreement.  "Or whatever we are.  Yeah.  And we can do that at Foxwood.  The learning, I mean."

"We could also do it here," Ashley noted, "but I'm really curious about Foxwood."

"Me too," Tiffany agreed, "but I'm gonna miss Cassie... a lot."

"I know," Ashley sighed, then her lips curled in a sly smile.  "If we start missing her too much, we can go on strike 'til Lady Foxwood agrees to send her knights to abduct Queen Xenobia."

Tiffany smiled.  "Yeah."  Her smile faded.  "Wait.  Lady Foxwood has knights?"

Ashley shrugged her rope-bound shoulders as best she could.  "Knights, men-at-arms, women-at-arms, hired outlaw bounty hunters, whatever.  Spread your knees."

Tiffany rolled onto her back and bound arms, spread her knees as far apart as her ankle-bonds would allow, and lifted her legs.

Ashley squirmed and wiggled her way until she was on her stomach (and semi-squashed boobs) between Tiffany's legs with her face within easy reach of her BFF's fiery pubic bush and glistening pussy.

Tiffany lowered her legs and rested her bound ankles on the small of Ashley's back, between her naked butt and box-tied arms.  "Be gentle," she sighed.

"Oh, shut up," Ashley chuckled, then extended her tongue and slid it across Tiffany's labia.

Jillian Foxwood was flat on her back on Cassie's bed.  She was encased from throat to ankles in what is called a "sleepsack."  It was made of "darlex," neoprene rubber sandwiched between layers of spandex fabric.  The body-hugging envelope was a shining black in color and internal sleeves trapped Jillian's arms at her sides from fingertips to armpits.

In further detail, the sleepsack closed by means of a long, heavy-duty zipper with two fobs, one running in the common track from throat to crotch and the other from ankles to crotch.  They met and clicked together by means of a plastic snap-buckle, sealing Jillian inside.  Also, numerous snap-buckles emerged from reinforced slots in the outer sheath every few inches and clicked together across the zipper's entire length.  The inner layer of neoprene was a series of overlapping panels, rather than one piece.  Some panels were wide, tapered bands that narrowed before emerging from the slots, attaching to the snap-buckles, and snapping together.  Other panels were more complex, two or more lateral bands that joined to form a single band before emerging and snapping together.  The hidden internal arrangements were complex, and with every snap-buckle that joined the ends of a panel together, the sheath squeezed Jillian's body in a progressively tighter embrace.

A wide, thick, neoprene cuff closed around Jillian's ankles and was secured by means of three much smaller snap-buckles.  A similarly wide and heavy collar closed around Jillian's throat and was secured by three more of the mini-sized buckles.  Internal padding prevented Jillian's ankle bones from grinding together, and stiff, corset-like stays in the collar allowed for easy breathing.

Two final details: (1) Jillian's breasts emerged from the sheath through what could only be called rubber gaskets.  They squeezed the pink, freckled globes and imparted a noticeable bulge, but while Jillian's boobs were slightly flushed, the pressure was gentle and far from punishing.  (2) An insulated electrical cable emerged from between the two zipper-fobs over her crotch.  The cable traveled to a USB port in a book-sized electronic module on Cassie's bedside table, and the module's power cord was plugged into a convenient wall outlet.  Embossed on the module's plastic case was a logo taking the form of a stylized salamander.  Together with its outlandishly long tail, the little amphibian was curled in the shape of an "S."

Naked, her raven hair unpinned and hanging in tousled curls that framed her smiling face, Cassie was reclined on her side beside the helplessly encased Jillian.  "The sheath is a prototype loaned to me by a friend," Cassie said.  "She calls it a 'Python Sheath.'  I think you can tell why."

"It is tight," Jillian sighed, "and I do feel like I'm being devoured by a giant snake."  Her long, red hair was also unpinned and loose.  She tossed her head and smiled at her captor.  "She should send you one with the outer spandex in a snakeskin pattern and the buckles in a compatible hue."

"Good idea," Cassie purred.  "I wouldn't want to impose on her generosity, but I'll pass on the suggestion.  She can offer snakeskin as a deluxe option in her online catalog."  She reached out and cupped Jillian's left breast.  "Sorry about the size.  She sent me a 'small,' and you're just tall enough to make it a bit of a tight fit."  Cassie gave the breast a gentle squeeze and her red-haired prisoner shivered in response.

"What about that thing?" Jillian asked, nodding at the module on the nightstand.

"Another gift from a friend," Cassie answered, "a different friend.  She's a college professor, by the way.  The plugs in your pussy and anus are vibrators, of course, and the pads taped to your thighs and tummy are sensors that monitor your heart-rate and other technical stuff."  She continued kneading Jillian's breast and the encased captive continued shuddering.  "The key to the system is the software running in the module.  It's more-or-less a powerful desktop computer, by the way."

"W-wonderful," Jillian stammered.  "Oooh."

"You're beginning to feel it?" Cassie chuckled.  "It's been running since I plugged it in, but at such a low level you might not have noticed."

"I've been preoccupied," Jillian sighed.

"Just so," Cassie chuckled.  "Anyway, it's going to slowly build, vibrating both plugs according to a complicated program of harmonics Cynthia tried to explain to me but I really didn't understand."

"Cynthia?" Jillian inquired.

"The friend, professor, and mad scientist in question," Cassie smiled.  "It's not important.  Anyway, the sensations will build and build and—"

"I'll cum like a horny bunny," Jillian muttered through clenched teeth.

"Oh, sweetheart," Cassie purred, "exactly the opposite.  It'll build and build 'til you almost cum.  And then it'll back off.  It won't let you cum.  It won't leave you alone, either."

"Whoever this Cynthia is," Jillian said, "please extend to her my personal invitation to visit Foxwood without charge.  I'd like to offer my sincere and heartfelt thanks."

"In one of the torture chambers of the Stone Tower, of course," Cassie chuckled.

"Of course," Jillian sighed.  A shudder rocked her encased form and she bit her lower lip to stifle a gasp.

"I knew you'd appreciate this," Cassie smiled.  "It is nice to visit the 21st Century now and then, like you told my girls earlier."

"This arrangement is a little too technological for Foxwood," Jillian agreed.  "Drowish magic can explain only so much.  And the same goes for spandex and rubber."

"Yes," Cassie agreed.  "Now... your feet are bare so I can tickle you silly if you misbehave, and I have an entire drawer full of different kinds of nipple toys, so..."  She leaned close and kissed Jillian's lips.  "Keep the squirming to a minimum and your pitiful moans and screams of frustration to yourself.  Otherwise, I have a closet full of gags, as well."  She kissed Jillian again, then ran her fingers through the wiggling captive's long, ginger hair.

"Y-you're going to just leave me like this?" Jillian demanded.

"In a word... yes."  Cassie smiled.  "Of course, we will be sucking face and I will be playing with your nipples while Cynthia's toys play with you... but yes."

"Wicked witch," Jillian muttered.

"Eventually I'll get some sleep, of course," Cassie continued.  "And you can try and get some sleep.  Please let me know how that turns out.  I'll include it in my report to Cynthia."

"Evil wicked witch," Jillian sighed.

"Now, speaking of sucking face..."  Cassie leaned close, then paused and her smile broadened.  "Oh, I just thought of something else we can do."  She sat up, lifted her left leg over Jillian's body and straddled her encased form.  Supporting her upper body by gripping the headboard, she leaned close 'til her black pubic curls were an inch from Jillian's freckled nose.  "I will tickle your toes if you aren't a good pleasure-slave," she warned.

"You should be green," Jillian sighed, then shivered as Cynthia's toys continued doing their thing.  "A witch this wicked should be green."  On behalf of her wiggling toes and wrinkled soles, to protect them from the enchanted feathers and dancing fingers of the Wicked Witch of Sarand-ip, Lady Jillian extended her tongue, licked her coral lips, and set to work.