~ISLA PARAÍSO~ fiction by Van ©2005 art by Dea ©2005
			Chapter 3

To see the actresses I would cast in an ISLA PARAÍSO motion picture, follow the link below, and use your browser's "Back" feature to return.   Please ignore any characters that have not yet appeared in the story.  ☺

Chrissy... that was a looong afternoon!

I continued to be more-or-less comfortable.  The Marquesa's "whipping couch" was well designed.  The position wasn't bad, the wrist, neck, and ankle openings in the pillory and stocks were smooth and perfectly shaped (and inescapable), and together with the pole under my tummy, everything was ideally situated to distribute my weight.  The problem, of course, was I couldn't move!  There's no such thing as a comfortable position after an hour of forced immobility... or two hours... or three.  The gag harness pinning my head to the pillory didn't help.

And then there was my other problem.  I was one horny little damsel-in-distress, Chrissy, and there was nothing I could do about it!  I couldn't even rub my thighs together, rock anything sensitive against anything helpful... I couldn't even shake my tits!  All they did was hang there and wobble a little when I tried to twist my torso.  My nips were hard, pointing, and my slit felt like it was dripping like a slow faucet, and...

{Blush.}  Sorry, Chrissy.  I didn't mean to get so, uh, explicit.  Suffice it to say it was the most horrible, torturous, wonderful, frustrating afternoon of my life... 'til then.

Well... all bad/good things come to an end—Rosa finally returned.  The lock was unlocked, the bolt slid back, then the door squealed open on oil-hungry hinges.  And there was that pesky breeze again, caressing my feet, legs, derrière, and back, reminding me I was naked—naked, helpless, and vulnerable.

Rosa strolled into view, wearing the same sundress as earlier.  Her smile was warm and kind.  There was more than a hint of gloating, to be sure, but mostly, warm and kind.  She picked up the whips and crops and flasks of oil, and disappeared.  I heard the lid of the trunk she had taken them from open... then close... and she returned.

She pulled the bench closer, sat, leaned forward, and unbuckled my gag.  "Was it everything you hoped it would be, my Lorelai?" she whispered,

At that point I had two options:

(1)  Get seriously pissed off!  Call Rosa all sorts of nasty names, demand to be released immediately, etc., etc.
   
(2)   NOT get seriously pissed off.

The problem with the first option was obvious.  I was still a helpless prisoner, and pissing off Rosa might not be so wise.  Also, and most importantly, I wasn't pissed off, and I didn't want Rosa to be pissed off either.  Go figure.

"Thanks," I gasped, licking my lips and working my jaw.

"I'll take that as a yes," Rosa purred, leaned closer, and kissed my mouth.

I blushed like the proverbial schoolgirl.  "Please, Rosa," I whispered.

"Oh, such a pitiful damsel.  The heart breaks," Rosa cooed, and kissed me again.  She then unlocked and removed the padlock securing the pillory, stepped from view, and I heard a second lock being turned.  Next, a wheel turned, and the pillory and stocks slowly opened.

I tried to extricate myself, but my back locked in a painful spasm.  "Ow!"  Rosa was there instantly.  She helped me off the Whipping Couch, and I slowly, carefully stood erect, then stretched.  "Ah!"

"There," Rosa cooed, and pulled my naked body into a warm embrace.

I paused (for a milli-micro-nano-second) and returned the embrace.  My cheeks were burning, and my sex was tingling.

"You forgive Rosa?" my captor/rescuer asked.

I smiled (still blushing).  "I forgive Rosa."

Rosa laughed, hugged me again, then took my hand and led me from the chamber.  "You have a most charming blush, Lorelai," she whispered.

At this point I was seriously worried that I'd be blushing permanently.  I considered and discarded "Aw, shucks" as a clever comeback.  I could tell Rosa was enjoying my discomfiture, but in a good way.

"Lime-Tequila Grilled Chicken for supper," Rosa announced, and led me towards the upper levels.

My stomach rumbled.  (No lunch, remember?)

I took a quick sauna before showering and getting ready to eat.  This eased my aching muscles, and gave me time to think.  I decided I had to tell Rosa I was backing out of my "promise" to play with the Marquesa's "toys".  Okay, maybe on a case-by-case basis... if I could see the "toy" in question ahead of time... and say yes or no... but definitely not on a torture-of-the-day basis.

I put up my hair, using a gold comb I found in one of the closet drawers, and selected a sparkly gown of gold silk.  Sleek, tight, spaghetti straps...  I admired myself in the mirror, then headed down to the castle's formal dining room.

As usual, Rosa had two places set at the main table.  The meal was delicious, as always, and the wine flowed freely, maybe a little more freely then usual.  I ate in polite silence.  Rosa could tell I was nervous, but she let me bring up the subject of my "promise" on my own.

"Rosa," I said quietly when the meal was over, "I've decided not to play, I mean do, I mean...  The Marquesa's toys... I—"

"You promised," Rosa interrupted, a cajoling little grin on her beautiful face.

I was doing my fish-out-of-water routine, opening and closing my mouth, and making profound statements like "uh", "um", "ur", etc.  I was also displaying that "charming blush" Rosa so admired.

"Okay," Rosa said finally, "I let you off the hook..." (Imagine my relief!)  "...but only if you pass a challenge."

I paused with my glass half-way to my startled mouth.  "Challenge?  What kind of challenge?"

Rosa took a sip of her own wine, gazing at me with laughing eyes and a mischievous smile.  "You enjoyed this afternoon's unexpected game—and don't even try to tell Rosa you did not—because you have played such games before, no?"

"I... no!" I objected (lying like a rug).

"Cops and Robbers?  Cowboys and Indians?  As a little girl," Rosa suggested.  "And later..."

"Everybody plays games like that as a kid," I said defensively.

Rosa's smile was altogether too knowing.  "And later," she repeated.

"Okay, a little innocent, uh, 'naughtiness' with a friend or two," I admitted, "but that was then."  (Honest, Chrissy, I never mentioned your name.)

"And this is now," Rosa purred.  "Here is the challenge."  She sipped her wine (to let me stew), then lowered the boom.  "I tie you up with rope, and if you can escape... only then do I release you from your promise."

"Tie me up?"  (And my wine disappeared in one rapid gulp.)

Rosa refilled my glass.  "Tomorrow, after lunch," she said.  "I use only two lengths of rope and two knots.  That is a fair challenge."

"I haven't said yes, you know," I observed.

"You don't have to say 'yes'," Rosa countered.  "I already have your promise."

I sipped my wine... then nodded.  Her logic was dubious, but (to coin a phrase) inescapable.  "I accept your challenge," I said formally.  (Okay, so I'm crazy and horny.  Big deal.)

"I knew you would," Rosa purred.  She picked up her wine, and we clinked glasses.

I slept well that night, after making up for lost time in the sexual tension release department.  Don't look at me that way, Chrissy!  You, of all people, have no right to get all prissy on me.  J

Rosa and I did a quick run before breakfast, and I accomplished quite a bit of work with the rest of the morning.  With a little luck, I might be spiraling in on total system integration in another two weeks... maybe three.

Lunch was light and delicious... I think.  I was kinda preoccupied.  Rosa could tell I was nervous, and ignored my carefully dropped hints for a foreshadowing of her plans.  Was she going to tie me to a chair?  To a bed?  To one of the castle's infinite supply of stone pillars?

We finished eating, and Rosa took my hand.  I gotta tell ya, Chrissy, I was nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.  I wasn't afraid—I knew Rosa wouldn't hurt me—but I was practically shivering.  Rosa knew I was nervous, and was enjoying herself.  And she knew I knew she knew.   Okay, that's silly—but I was too nervous to care.

She led me to a small courtyard tucked into a fold in the walls above the Gulf.  It's a beautiful place, Chrissy.  Brooding towers loom on three sides, draped with flowering vines.  The fourth side is a low parapet about a hundred yards above the jumbled rocks and crashing waves of the deep blue sea.  There's a small fountain and a long, narrow water garden opposite the parapet, and the floor is an exquisite tile mosaic, very geometric and Moorish.  There are shallow, arched alcoves set into the walls, all lined with padded marble benches or couch-like chairs, all tiled and carrying forward the Moorish theme, and all facing the center of the courtyard.

In the center of the court, itself, there's a low, raised, circular platform.  One step up from the main floor, it's perhaps five yards across and tiled to match the rest of the decor.  A thick pad, about the size of the comforter of a king-size bed, is centered on the platform.  It's a deep, red, wine color.  Neatly arranged beside the pad were two neatly coiled lengths of white rope.

I swallowed nervously, and let Rosa lead me to the platform.

"Please remove your clothing, Lorelai," Rosa said.

I hesitated... then pulled my tank-top over my head, unzipped my cargo shorts and let them drop to the tiles.  Standing in my bra and panties, I gave Rosa a shy (coy) glance.  "Everything?"  Rosa gave me a tolerant, patient smile.  "Okay, okay," I mumbled, and removed my undies.

"Messy girl!" Rosa scolded (her eyes still smiling).  "Make a pretty pile.  Do you expect me to clean up after you?"

I smiled, stooped, and neatly folded and stacked my clothes, making the ordered "pretty pile" on the edge of the platform.  By the time this was accomplished, Rosa had a coil of rope in her hands, and was waiting.

"Come to me, Lorelai," she said in a seductive whisper, beckoning me forward with a crooked finger.  The smile on her face made my sex quiver.

Okay... at this point you're probably wondering why I didn't just grab my clothes, mutter something profound like "C'ya!", patter back to my room as fast as my naked little feet could take my naked little self, and barricade the door.  Well... I was nervous... but not that nervous.  I just knew this was gonna be fun, as in unique, as in—I'd never forgive myself if I chickened out now!

I pattered forward, Rosa spun me around, and set to work.

She folded my arms behind my back, and looped several doubled bands of rope around my wrists.  I felt a hitch being taken, but (so far), nothing was very tight.  The rope she was using was one very long, continuous length, and every step required a great deal of pulling and slithering of rope, through itself and caressing my skin.  The rope was soft and a little fluffy, and it felt good.  The doubled wrist ropes were looped around my upper body, pinning my arms to my torso.  The first pair passed above my breasts, the second below, then I felt Rosa making complex adjustments.  A single strand was passed between my ribs and arms on the left, cinching the bands below my breasts and snugging everything a little tighter.  The process was repeated on my right, then a series of hitches and knots were tied.

"Hey, you said only two knots, total!" I protested.

Rosa smiled, indulgently.  "These are hitches and bends," she explained.  "A 'knot' is when the free ends of the rope are intertwined for the last time."

"Not true!" I objected.

Rosa laughed.  "My knots are very true, my Lorelai, and your opinion no longer matters, as you are already Rosa's captive, no?"  She paused to give my cheek a quick kiss, then went back to work.

I sighed, but made no further objection.  As always, her logic was inescapable, as were my still incomplete rope bonds, with their carefully compacted 'hitches' and 'bends'.

Next, Rosa passed single strands from my wrists, over my shoulders from either side, and tucked them under the strands above my breasts.  This tightened into a lark's head, then the strands were looped under the lower bands, hitched through the upper, and tightened into a elegant, boob-pinching, flat and symmetrical knot or hitch or whatever, between my breasts.

And there was still a lot of rope left!  Rosa tied a series of overhand knots, each a few inches apart, then passed the rope through my crotch, parting my labia and nestling the soft strands within.  More knots were tied behind my back, and the ropes looped through my wrist bindings.  Rosa now reached around my body from either side.  Single strands passed through the ropes in front, between the knots, back behind my back, back to the front and between the next pair of knots, etc.

As this process continued, everything was getting progressively tighter, and the vertical ropes were opening into a series of diamond hitches.  I looked down my body and marveled at the pattern that had developed.  

"This is obviously not the first time you've tied somebody up," I muttered, then gasped as Rosa gave the remaining lengths of rope a firm jerk.

"I have a confession to make," Rosa whispered in my ear, leaning close against my naked, well-roped body from behind.   "La Marquesa is not the only resident of the castle who enjoys being naughty."  She tied a final knot, somewhere between my wrists and the nape of my neck, then stepped to the front, running her hands over the ropes (and my body) testing the placement and tightness of her handiwork.  "That's one length of rope, and one knot," Rosa purred.

 'Naughty'...  My heart was pounding.  I tested my bonds, and found them at once comfortable and tight.  Obviously, I wasn't going to wiggle out of Rosa's ropes without help.  "You tricked me," I muttered.

Rosa stooped and picked up the second, also very long coil of rope.  "You are a highly intelligent, educated, and mature young lady," Rosa purred, "and if I have tricked you, it is because you have allowed yourself to be tricked."

I opened my mouth to object, then closed it.  Yet again, Rosa's logic was inescapable.

I'll spare you the remaining blow-by-blow (or should I say hitch-by-hitch?), and explain that the second "knot" was tied around my big toes!  From the shoulders down, the second coil was expended on more loops and diamond hitches to further bind my upper body, and to bind my legs together from thighs to the aforementioned toes.  I was lying on my side, reasonably comfortable in my soft, tight, rope bonds.  I lay on the soft cushion, writhing and twisting my helpless body, testing my condition.

I could roll about, stretch my legs, and point my feet, but if I tried to fold my knees or bend at the waist, the ropes bit tighter and tighter.  Satisfied that I was totally helpless, I stopped struggling and looked down my body.

I was a work of art.  The ropes were symmetrical and cleverly cinched, with every strand, loop, and band carefully spaced.  My efforts to escape were rewarded by a slight loosening here, and punished by a slight tightening there; but though my skin would dimple and then be released, though the ropes would slide and caress my skin; nothing shifted, or bunched, or did anything but remain exactly where it had been placed by Rosa.

Relaxed in my tight web of soft rope, lying on my comfortable bed, my skin warmed by the sun and cooled by the Gulf breeze, I smiled up at Rosa, and sighed.  "Okay... You got me," I whispered.  "I'm never getting out of this."

"Do not give up so easily, my Lorelai," Rosa laughed, and walked to one of the alcoves.  She returned with an hourglass.  It had a heavy brass frame and the sand inside was pure white.  She also had two folded silk scarves.  They were the same blood red hue as the cushion.

I surmised I was going to get a little more time to escape my bonds.

Rosa set the glass on the edge of the platform, then knelt by my head.

I knew it was pointless, but I tried anyway.  "C'mon, Rosa!" I whined, affecting my best puppy-dog pout.  "Enough already.  I give!"

My captor would have none of it.  "I spend all this time wrapping you up in such a pretty package," she demanded, "and you expect me to just let you go?"  I whined again, but she balled up one of the scarves and stuffed it into my mouth anyway.  The second scarf was used to cleave my lips and keep the stuffing in place.  It was thick and tight and my cheeks bulged as Rosa tied a tight square knot at the nape of my neck and under my hair.

Rosa left my side and climbed off the platform.  I blinked up at her as she lifted the hourglass, smiled, turned it over, and set it back down.  "You have until the sand has finished falling to escape," she announced, then picked up my neatly stacked clothes, turned, and left the courtyard, pausing to close and lock a formerly open gate of iron bars.

I tugged on my bonds in frustration.  Escape was impossible.  I lay in the embrace of my rope cocoon and waited, watching the sand in the glass slowly drain from the upper chamber to the lower.

I wasn't a complete slacker.  I knew I couldn't escape, but a few minutes of careful experimentation revealed all motions that had a desirable effect on my crotch rope.  Between the afternoon sun and my struggles, I managed to work up a healthy sweat; however, I did not manage to do more than whip myself (so to speak) into the proverbial frenzy, without achieving release (of any kind).

Honest, Chrissy, I tried and tried, not to escape, of course, but to get myself off.  What's a girl to do?  I made the best of a hopeless situation.

As the sand in the glass began to run out, I made a game of it.  If I could cum before the last grains drained away... I'd win!  I writhed and bucked in my bonds, savoring the feel of the soft rope sliding through my moist tunnel.  Time passed, and the sand continued to fall.  There were only minutes left.  I struggled and rolled, kicking my legs and twisting my trapped arms.  "Piteous", "hopeless", "heart-breaking" moans escaped my gag.  The sand from the chamber above trickled ever downward, forming an ever-growing cone in the chamber below.

I had to escape!  If I didn't, Rosa would do all sorts of terrible things to me!  Oh the horror!  The terror!  The drama!   J

I squirmed and wiggled... to no avail.  The last grains fell, I was still helpless, and I hadn't managed to cum.   Rats!  I lay still, panting a little, and let the sweat dry on my flushed, sun kissed skin.

My breathing stilled... and I heard the courtyard gate being unlocked.  Rosa had returned.  I tossed my head, a futile attempt to shake my tousled hair from my face, and decided to give my puppy-dog pout another try.  Maybe the gag got in the way, but it didn't have the desired effect.

"You wicked girl!" Rosa scolded, affecting a pout of her own.  "I don't think you have even tried to escape.  I go to all the trouble of tying you up nice and pretty and tight... and you just lie there like a lazy lump."  Smiling sweetly, she lifted the hourglass and turned it over.  Sand began to slowly drain.

"Not to worry, wicked Lorelai," Rosa cooed, then crawled to my side on her hands and knees.  She lay beside me, resting the side of her face on one hand.  "Rosa give you another chance."  Still smiling, she reached into the pocket of her sundress, and produced a small silver tube, about the size and shape of a large lipstick.  "I give you added incentive, as well."

She gave the base of the tube a twist, it began to buzz!  My eyes popped wide, and Rosa's smile turned deliciously evil.  I tried rolling away, but she snuggled close and extended a long, brown leg over my thighs.  I wiggled and shook my head, but she reached out and teased my rope-cleaved sex with the merrily vibrating tube.

"Struggle for Rosa, Lorelai," she whispered, and I did.  I twisted and bucked and fought, but between Rosa's ropes and Rosa's embrace, I was trapped!  She pressed the vibrator to my crotch rope, then pulled it away, then pressed it again.  I let out a strangled moan, and continued to struggle.  She teased me with expert timing, letting me build to the brink, then denying me release.  But eventually, whether by design or as the inevitable result of my captivity and Rosa's proximity, I experienced a crashing orgasm.

Rosa managed to prolong said orgasm for an ungodly long time... but eventually all good cums come to a climax.  J  Panting and sweating, my rope-framed breasts heaving, I lay limp as the proverbial dish rag in Rosa's arms, staring into her warm, beautiful, gloating face.  She shifted her gaze to the hourglass, and my eyes followed.  Surprisingly little sand had drained from the upper chamber.

Rosa's laughing brown eyes were examining my helpless body.  "In the time you've been here at the castle," she whispered, "you have developed quite a tan."  She slid her hand over my breasts.  "It will be even deeper... as time goes by.  I will make sure you rub on plenty of cocoa butter... or I will rub it on myself."

I writhed in my tight bonds, and under her gentle caress.  Our eyes locked, and a shiver traveled up my spine.  Okay, Chrissy, now I knew I was in love with Rosa, and not in a sisterly way.

Rosa leaned forward and kissed my gleaming forehead.  "Enough resting, wicked girl," she purred, and switched on the vibrator.

I squealed and squirmed, shaking my head and moaning.

Rosa smiled, and pressed the tip of the little silver demon to my sex.  "Escape for Rosa, Lorelai," she whispered.  "I know you can do it.  Try!"

I squirmed and shuddered, and began the slow, sweet climb to my second orgasm.

Suffice it to say, by the time the glass ran out for the second time, poor little Lorelai had been rode hard and put away wet.  Rose untied me, a lengthy process, providing a welcome opportunity for yours truly to take a much needed nap; then she let me continue to rest.  The sun had moved and the platform was now in shade.  A pillow appeared under my head, as if by magic, and a light satin sheet was draped over my body.  Both were the same deep red as the soft cushion under my exhausted body.

I opened my eyes and focused on Rosa.  The coils of rope in her hand, she departed, locking the iron gate behind her.

I slept a long time, and the next thing I knew, the sun was low and Rosa's smiling face was looming over me.  "Wake up, Lorelai," she whispered, then leaned close and kissed my lips.  "Time for you to get cleaned up and dressed for dinner."

I reached up, pulled Rosa into an embrace, and planted a decidedly non-casual kiss on her lips.  "You're a nasty, bad, evil person," I scolded.  (There was no way she could take this rebuke seriously, of course.)

"Of course I am," Rosa agreed, and pulled me to my feet.  "And I hold you to your promise, Lorelai," she purred.  "We start immediately.  I make you pretty for dinner."

"Huh?"

"La Marquesa has more than furniture for us to play with," Rosa explained.  "She has closets full of costumes.  I show you."

I was led away, through a door, and into one of the towers.  More gates and doors were unlocked and locked behind us, and we continued through dark corridors, up winding stairs, and finally, came to a heavy oak door bound with ornate iron bands.  Rosa unlocked the door, led me through, and I found myself in a large, surprisingly light and airy chamber.  Tall windows of frosted glass covered one wall, and the others were covered with mirrors.

I inspected myself in the mirrors.  The rope marks from my failed challenge had faded completely, a tribute to Rosa's skill as a rope-mistress.  Meanwhile, Rosa had opened a small panel and thumbed a switch.  I heard a quiet hum, and a horizontal steel bar with two dangling leather straps lowered from the ceiling.  It was suspended from several pulleys, on one continuous chain.  The bar stopped at the level of my shoulders, and Rosa took my left hand and guided my fingers to grip the rubber-clad handle at the far left end.  Then, with deft, practiced fingers, she tightened the strap around my left wrist and secured the buckle.  She then arranged my right hand at the other end of the bar and secured my right wrist.

And I let her do it!  I just stood there, let her strap me to the bar, and I didn't even protest!  I tugged on my bonds.  My wrists were about three feet apart, and the straps and buckles were cunningly designed for comfort and support.  I finally found my voice.  "Rosa!" I whined.

Rosa had thumbed the button and the bar was rising!  It continued rising untiI my heels left the tile floor!  "Rosa!" I complained again.  This time my tone was a little more urgent.

"Not to worry, my Lorelai," Rosa said as she closed the switch panel.  "Using the lacing bar makes things much easier."

"Lacing bar?"

Rosa smiled, stepped to one of the mirrors, and pulled a hidden latch.  The entire mirror opened like a door, and beyond I could see a walk-in closet full of... things... leather things.  Rosa entered the closet, and returned with a stiff, black leather tube with dangling laces, straps, and buckles.

The light finally dawned.  "A corset!"

"A very interesting corset," Rosa confirmed.  The leather closed around my torso and hips.  It had half-cup shelves that supported my breasts, and stretched down to encircle my upper thighs.  A heart-shaped cut-out left my buttocks exposed.  It closed with buckles, then Rosa began tightening its laces.

I was having a serious case of déjà vu.  There was something familiar about the design.  Then it hit me.   "Gwendoline and the Missing Princess!" I blurted.

I could see Rosa smiling in the mirrors as she continued tightening the laces.  "The classics are classics for good reason, no?" she said.  "It is most interesting and instructive that you are familiar with the works of Maestro Willie."  She fumbled between my legs, reaching under the corset, and I yelped in alarm (and arousal).  "You know what is missing, no?" she whispered.

I felt a narrow, butter-soft band of leather part my labia and tighten.  "Oh... the strap."

"The strap," Rosa confirmed, and gave it another tug.

I yelped again, then shuddered and squirmed as the strap was buckled.  I examined my rear in the mirrors, and found the strap was quite invisible, hidden between my bulging butt cheeks.  "This is dreadful!" I complained.  In fact, I looked incredibly hot!  The corset embraced and showcased my breasts and butt, and compressed my waist into an exaggerated hourglass .  It was tight, and my breathing was restricted, but what it was doing to my figure was worth it... kinda.

Rosa opened a different mirror-door, revealing another walk-in closet.  She entered, and returned with black dress, a strapless sheath.  She knelt, I stepped into it, and she stood, pulling the dress up my body.  It was a tight fit, and after she secured the top clasp and back zipper, it was perfect.  Most of the sheath was black velvet, but gossamer-thin silk "covered" my breasts, and more semi-transparent silk extended the lower hem from mid-thigh to just above my knees, and it hung in carefully trimmed and hemmed "ripped tatters".

But, far and away, its most unconventional feature was the heart-shaped cut-out over my tushie!  Yes, my naked butt was still naked!

I know what you're thinking, Chrissy.  She just spent the afternoon naked and tied up and getting teased with a vibrator, and now she's all blushy schoolgirl over a naked butt?  It was the naughtiness of it.  This was Haute Couture, but kinky Haute Couture!  It was expensive, beautifully crafted, and wicked, and it made me feel like a kidnapped princess... like Willie's Gwen-lookalike... a kidnapped, beautiful, and helpless princess!

And Rosa wasn't finished with me yet!

I was released from the bar, and handed a pair of black opera gloves.  They were the full-length, above the elbows type, and closed with a pair of buttons.  These were followed by wide, heavy, silver bracelets—cuffs!  They locked with tiny, silver, heart-shaped padlocks, and were encrusted with diamonds!  Another pair snapped and locked around my ankles, and a matching choker around my throat.  And all were connected by thin, slithery, silver chains!  My wrists were joined about twelve inches apart, my ankles about eight, and the vertical connecting chain from the choker kept the hobble chain off the floor and my hands near my waist.  I was a kidnapped princess!

"Wow!" I gasped, staring at myself in the mirror.  The exquisite gown and fine jewelry (which, in case it isn't clear at this point, were fully functional restraints) were quite formal; but my tousled hair, bare feet and the "ragged" hem of the gown decidedly in-formal.  I was literally a slave of fashion, an over-dressed, over-accessorized, helpless thrall, with an oh-so-naughty, naked heinie just begging for the whip!  I smiled at my reflection, slowly spinning on my bare heels to take in the full effect, then turned to Rosa and directed a decidedly unconvincing pout in her direction.

Rosa laughed, and led me from the mirrored chamber.  "Come with me, Your Highness," she purred, and we made our way through the gates and corridors of the castle to her room.  She set a leisurely pace, but I still had to scramble to keep up, hampered by my "slave chains".

I stood and watched as she removed her sundress and panties.  (She wasn't wearing any bra.)  She walked over to me and looked my elegantly helpless self up and down with a critical eye.  "Hmm... I fix you up right," she whispered, and led me to her makeup table.  I sat (squirming slightly as my bare butt cheeks came in contact with the cool leather of the bench) and watched in the mirror as she applied makeup to my eyes, cheeks, and lips.  She brushed a final dab of gloss on my lower lip, then frowned.  "Not quite right," she purred, then pulled something from a dressing table drawer.

Before I was fully aware of her intentions, a ball popped in my mouth and a strap tightened at the nape of my neck.  I voiced the obligatory muffled complaint as she snapped yet another silver padlock through the ball-gag's buckle.  The ball was a translucent red, spherical and smooth, but somehow its interior was subdivided into geometric planes, which reflected the light like the facets of a colossal ruby!  The leather strap was dyed silver, and was encrusted with diamonds, like my chains.

"Perfect!" Rosa cooed, then sat her naked self next to me on the bench, applied her own makeup, and carefully pinned up her hair in a simple but elegant coif.  She then entered her closet.  Seconds passed, and she returned, wearing a gown of dip-dyed silk, rosy plum above, fading to pale pink below.  It was sleeveless, with one wide strap over her left shoulder, and had an Empire-style cut—and she looked gorgeous!

I stared at her in awe (and a ripple of lust tingled through my sex).  Rosa could tell I was impressed.  Her smile turned a little shy, and she actually blushed.  (And at that very moment, Chrissy, I knew I was truly smitten.  Whatever it took, Rosa would be mine!)

Fate, in the form of a long length of light silver chain, intervened to remind me that, at the moment, I was Rosa's.  She snapped the clip at one end of the chain to the ring at the front of my choker, slipped the silver-dyed leather loop at the other end over her right wrist, and led me from her bedroom—her prisoner.

We made our way to the room we usually used for evening dining, but I was surprised to find three formal place settings, instead of the normal two.  Before I could voice a gagged inquiry,  Rose guided me towards a windowed alcove overlooking the Gulf.

There was a woman standing half in the shadows.  She was dressed in a long, formal gown of dark indigo.  A tight cummerbund of gold silk encircled her waist, and an indigo toreador-style jacket over a white blouse completed the ensemble.  The jacket had gold braid and frogs and curlicues and all that stuff on the sleeves, and I realized it was a uniform, a formal uniform.  The woman slowly stepped forward and I could see a set of miniature medals and a tiny gold badge, confirming my impression.

Then she came fully into the light and I recognized her brown, beautiful, Latin face.  My eyes popped wide and my heart began to pound.  It was the Comandante... Lucia!