by Van ©2013
		Chapter 9

For the next hour, Gwen imbibed the occasional glass of champagne and nibbled on an array of delicious hors d'oeuvres.  That is, a cool glass of bubbly would appear at her lips and she would take a sip, or a tidbit of some sort would be popped into her mouth.  Gwen wasn't much of a drinker—a few beers in the appropriate setting, maybe a glass or two of wine with a special meal—but she wasn't much of a drinker.  In fact, Gwen had never been seriously drunk in her entire life.  However, she had been a little buzzed on occasion, and it was happening again.

Her heartbeat had slowed to normal—Normal, what a concept!—and she was coming to terms with her situation, which was...

• Naked... at a party!
• Being led around on a steel collar and leash by Inga... The Phantom!
• Her wrists crossed and caged in steel behind her back!
• Blindfolded, by means of a feathery bird mask!

Gwen continued hearing quiet conversations all around her, a lot of quiet conversations.  And at least some of what was being said continued to be about her; not all, but some.  After her initial embarrassment—meaning soul-numbing mortification—Gwen had kinda gotten used to being on display, to being led around in nude captivity.  The champagne helped, and so did Inga's close presence.  Also, the party chatter that was about her was all positive.  Apparently, Gwen was beautiful, brave, and intriguing—and as the champagne continued to flow she became even more beautiful, brave, and intriguing.

A few voices engaged Inga in direct conversation, congratulating her on completing her doctorate, asking her opinion of some new author (new to Gwen, anyway), discussions of various movies, etc.  Gwen made a mental note to go see Beasts of the Southern Wild when she got a chance.  It sounded interesting.  Anyway, no names were used and Gwen was never directly addressed, except by Inga.  This was just as well, as far as Gwen was concerned.  She knew she'd be totally tongue-tied if she even tried to make chit-chat.  Maybe I'll be able to talk later, she decided, after a little more bubbly.

Also, Gwen was more and more convinced she was in a ballroom, or maybe an auditorium.  And there were at the very least a hundred party guests milling about.  It would seem Inga had a lot of friends... or was all of this a meeting of "hobbyists?"  Am I the only naked prisoner? Gwen wondered.  Is other kinkiness going on all around me?  Everyone was appreciative of her condition, but at the same time a little blasé.  That was what made her think she might not be alone.. alone in bondage, that is.  The possibility was somewhat disconcerting.  One more weird thing for Gwen to deal with.

Gwen listened... and sipped bubbly... and noshed on tidbits... and endured.

Clem watched her BFF—her BFF in bondage and the buff—from across the living room.  At the moment the blond leading Gwen around on a leash and Bibi-the-archeologist were deep in conversation, and Gwen was a blindfolded spectator.  No, 'blindfolded spectator' is a non sequitur, Clem decided.  Clem was carrying a small tray of bacon-wrapped shrimp skewered on toothpicks in her fettered hands.  She popped one in her mouth and chewed.  Yes, if you're blindfolded you can't spectate, not visually, anyway.  Clem swallowed.  Time for more champagne.  She set the tray on a side table and minced and tinkled her way towards the kitchen.

Thus far, Clem had managed not to scream Gwen's name and rush to her side.  It had been a real struggle when Gwen and her blond handler, the new PhD and guest of honor, first appeared, but she'd managed.  She'd even managed not to freak out when Kim directed her to carry a couple of flutes of champagne to the newcomers.  It had gotten easier, and now it was very easy.  Gwen, much to Clem's amazement and irritation, had quickly calmed down and was clearly enjoying herself.  Clem could tell.

Once Gwen and "Dr. Blondie" arrived, Clem more or less ignored the naked little mouse.  Okay, the petite prisoner had a cute bod, whoever she was, and her predicament was kind of cool, but then Gwen had appeared and she was in more or less the same predicament, and she was her BFF and... the brazen little red-haired twerp was basking in the adoration of the virtual crowd of party-goers making fawning comments about her nude, captive body.  It was infuriating.  Clem had been playing the dutiful servant for... three hours?  Who knew?  Who cared?  It was infuriating.

Early on, Clem had been looking for an opportunity to whisper in Gwen's ear, despite her promise to Kim, to let her BFF know she was here and reassure her that all would be well.  But now?  Hah!  Preening and prancing around like a poodle at a dog show...  The little twerp!  Clem couldn't wait to give Gwen a piece of her mind, as soon as the party was over, as soon as Kim let them go.  And she'd get to tell Gwen her worshipful audience was computer generated, which would be icing on the proverbial cake.

Clem entered the kitchen and headed for the wine cabinet.  There were still several unopened bottles of bubbly remaining.  Before she could open the cabinet, however, the door from the living room opened and Kim and Megan appeared.

"You've been very good, Clementine," Kim said with a smile.

"Yes," Megan agreed, also smiling, "an excellent serving girl and a very mature young lady."

"Mature," Clem huffed, "as in 'for mature audiences only,'  Whatever."  Normally, Clem would never talk like that to a full professor she hardly even knew, especially one she might be taking classes from at some point in her academic future, but tonight was anything but normal.  "Hey!"

Megan had stepped behind Clem and seized her upper arms, pulling her elbows together.  This pinned the chain joining her fettered hands against her stomach and trapped her hands at her sides.  "Quiet, please," Megan chuckled.  "Don't spoil things now."

Still smiling, Kim reached down her dress and produced the paper-backed plastic strip she'd offered to gag Clem with earlier, before Gwen and her blond captor had appeared.

"Nice and warm from Kimberly's bosom," Megan whispered in Clem's left ear.

Kim focused on her red-haired colleague as she removed the paper backing from the strip.  "Are you drunk?" she inquired.

"We're all a little drunk," Megan chuckled.

Kim shook her head, then beamed at Clem, once again.  "Time for bed, Clementine."

"Bed?"

Kim nodded.  "Lips together, please."

Clem blinked at her mentor, then sighed and pursed her lips.  Now?  But the party isn't over.

"Good girl," Kim purred, then stretched the strip across Clem's mouth and smoothed it with her fingers.  "Now, off to the powder room."

This is crazy! Clem thought.

With Kim clutching her right arm and Megan her left, Clem was led through the kitchen door, across the corner of the living room, and down the hallway towards the bedrooms.  The remaining party-goers didn't seem to notice.

They reached the bathroom and Clem's professorial handlers worked together to pull down her panties—"Mrrpfh!"—then gently plunked her down on the commode.  Blushing, furiously, Clem managed to empty her bladder.

Megan had been polite enough to turn her back, focus on the mirror above the washbasin, and brush her ginger hair.  Kim made a show of straightening the towels.  That helped.  Despite her chains, Clem managed to pat herself with a fold of tissue, flush the toilet, stand and pull up her panties, then rinse her hands at the washbasin.

"Good girl," Kim said, then led Clem from the bathroom.  Megan was a step behind.

Enough with the 'good girl' crap, Clem fumed as she clinked down the hallway.  She wasn't really mad at Kim—or Megan, for that matter—but she was... agitated.  Yes, 'agitated' is a good word, she decided.  They entered the bedroom she'd slept in the night before, and Clem's eyes popped wide.

The medical restraints were still on her former bed, but their configuration had been changed.  The straps with their attached padded cuffs were still stretched across the mattress and buckled to the lower bed-frame, but the wrist-cuffs strap had be moved from the waist position up to about the level of a hypothetical "patient's" shoulders.  Also, a third and somewhat larger padded cuff had been added, midway between the wrist cuffs.  Clem realized it was a collar!

Clem was still staring at the bed and its restraints when she realized Kim was unzipping her dress, and Megan had knelt and was pulling down her garters and stockings.  "Mrrrf!"

"Don't be silly," Megan giggled.  "Maids don't sleep in their uniforms."

Kim chuckled but didn't say anything.

Clem could have at least tried to resist, despite her chains.  It would have been possible, but she didn't, and she wasn't at all sure why not.  Her dress was now open and half hanging off her body and Kim was releasing her bra.  Next, chain encumbered and in dishabille, Clem allowed herself to be helped down onto the bed.  The padded collar was loosely buckled around her throat, then Kim produced a key and unlocked the steel cuff on her right wrist.  One by one her chains were removed, and as each limb was freed, her handlers removed her clothing, including her panties, placed her wrists and ankles in the medical restraints, and secured the buckles.

Naked and strapped to the bed, Clem watched as Megan gathered her maid's costume—shoes, stockings, garters, dress, cap, and undies—and used the apron to make a neat, all inclusive bundle.  Meanwhile, Kim was snapping tiny padlocks through the hasps in the tongues of the restraints' buckles.  Snick, snick, snick, snick, snick.

"Good night," Kim purred, leaned close, and kissed Clem's tape-gagged lips.  She then removed the naked prisoner's glasses, folded the earpieces, and set them on the nightstand.

Then, it was Megan's turn.  "Good night, Little One," the redhead purred.  She then leaned close and simultaneously kissed Clem's plastic-sealed lips and gave her left breast a quick, gentle squeeze.  "Sleep tight," she added, then joined Kim at the open door.

"That does it," Kim chuckled as she turned off the overhead light.  "You're cut off."

"And you call yourself a hostess?" Megan giggled as the door closed.

Clem heard a key turn in the lock, then more giggling receding down the hall... followed by silence.

She stared up at the black ceiling.  As her eyes adapted to the dark Clem realized the nightlight somewhere near the floor was glowing, like the night before.  The rest of the bedroom was also unchanged.  The second bed was still neatly made, its taut bedspread stretched and tucked over the sheets and pillows underneath.  And speaking of sheets, Kim had failed to cover Clem's naked body.  The bedclothes of her bed were folded at the foot, just below her feet.  Did she forget?  They were both a little tipsy—like me.

Minutes passed.  Clem gave her bonds a halfhearted tug, then tried to relax.  What a night, she mused.  What a bizarre, incredible night.

Suddenly, Clem heard the lock turn in the bedroom door.  Then, the door opened and Clem closed her eyes against the bright light shining from the hallway.  The bedroom door closed and was locked again, and Clem opened her eyes.  As her night vision returned, she beheld a female figure standing just inside the door—a naked female figure—and it was Gwen!

Her BFF's wrists were no longer behind her back, but the bird mask was still covering her eyes.  She didn't seem to be otherwise restrained, although Clem couldn't be absolutely certain with only the dim, blue-green nightlight illuminating the curves of her roommate's body.

"Mrrrf."

Gwen took a startled step back, bumping her butt against the closed and locked door.  "Who's there?" she demanded.

Clem rolled her eyes.  Somebody who's gagged, you moron!  "MRRRRRF!"

Gwen took a tentative step forward, reaching out blindly with both hands.  "Clem?"

Tori could tell when the party started, and it had been underway for something like three hours.  She could hear the faint music and buzzing voices.  In addition, the joists creaked as Kim and her guests walked around overhead.

It had been a long day.  Naked, bound in a standing spread-eagle with padlocked, inescapable suspension-cuffs, ball-gagged... it had been a very long day.  Dawn found its way into the basement through the barred window wells... then noon... and finally, sunset.  And now the basement was dark again.   Luckily, the air temperature was at a comfortable level.  Maybe the thermostat was set a tad high, but that wasn't a bad thing.  Better to sweat a little than to get the chills. 

The helpless prisoner was thirsty and hungry and sore—but Tori Ballantine was a tough cookie.  She could take it.  That was part of the reason she'd agreed to her role for The Phantom's party.  Tori liked to test herself.  That said, according to the original plan she was supposed to be upstairs with everyone else, enjoying herself.    She'd bought a new dress and everything, and she was missing the party.

Yes, according to plan they were all supposed to troop down to the basement and only then Tori would allow herself to be "captured."  But Pappas had tricked her into letting herself get captured early, a good ten hours early!  Kim's treachery was giving Tori a really good opportunity to test herself, and Tori fully intended to return the favor.

Finally, the basement door opened, the track-lights over Tori's pinioned body winked on, and several sets of heels started tapping down the stairs.  Tori's long wait was over.

One-by-one the party-goers appeared, minus Clem and Gwen, of course.  What was about to unfold was not for novices.

Kim appeared, followed by Megan, Ellen, Cynthia, Bibi, and the guest of honor, Inga.  All were dressed in very pretty cocktail dresses, except for Cynthia.  "Dr. Webbel-Wobble" (Cynthia's campus nickname, thanks to the way her boobs bounced when she walked, especially on the stairs) was not dressed.  Obviously, the little computer-geek had lost The Phantom's lottery.  Also, Inga's floor-length outfit was better described as a gown than a dress, but that was a minor point.  The gaggle of PhDs looked hot, like Tori would have looked in her dress, but for the treacherous betrayal of Pappas-the-Traitor.

All walked slow circles around Tori's nude, glowing (meaning slightly sweaty), and pinioned form.  She stared back at their smiling, gloating faces.  It was the thing to do.  It was also just about the only thing she could do other than wiggle her fingers.

Inga stepped forward and cupped Tori's breasts.  "My, how the mighty have fallen," she said, an evil smile curling her girlish lips.  She gently squeezed Tori's modest but well-shaped boobs, then began teasing her nipples with her thumbs and forefingers.

Tori locked eyes with The Phantom and stoically ignored what she was doing to her now fully erect nips.  Then, her eyes widened and it was all she could do not to moan through her gag.  Inga's hands had left her tits and were now caressing and probing her labia!

"She's not very wet," Inga noted.

"It's probably the fear," Ellen suggested.

"Probably," Kim agreed.

Meanwhile, Megan and Bibi had pulled a cardboard box out from under the folding table and were arranging its contents on the black tablecloth.  The items included:

• A multi-tailed flogger of black leather.
• A riding crop, also in black.
• A matching leather paddle the size and shape of a large spatula.
• A glass bowl full of small metal clothespins.
• Two Wartenberg Wheels, medical instruments comprised of spur-like disks with needle-sharp points spinning on steel handles.
• A pair of spring-loaded clamps joined by a light steel chain.  A tiny vibrator the shape of a large pill was clipped to each clamp.
• A penis-shaped dildo in purple latex, anatomically correct and distressingly large.
• A torpedo-shaped vibrator, also purple.
• A wand-style vibrator with a saddle-shaped head.  It was white.
  
• And finally, a metal cup containing a dozen or more quills and feathers of various size.

Tori's strong, healthy heart was beating faster.  She couldn't help it, because of what Inga continued doing to her pussy and in anticipation of the "testing" to come.

"That's better," Inga chuckled, withdrawing her hands and strolling back to join the others at the table.  "Any more and she might cum, and it's waaay too early to let her cum."

Ellen gazed at Tori, then her smile broadened.  "As high card of the lottery I can propose 'enhancements,' correct?"

Inga nodded.

Ellen handed the end of Cynthia's leash to Megan.  Then, without warning, she reached out and released Cynthia's right nipple clamp.

"MRRRF!"  Cynthia's eyes had popped wide behind her mouse mask, and her petite frame shivered with distress.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ellen purred.  "Did that hurt?"  Smiling sweetly, she unhooked the pendant earring and handed it to Bibi, then unhooked the necklace and the remaining earring from the left clamp.  She handed both to Bibi as well, then turned back to smile at Cynthia.  "Ready, Little Mouse?"

Cynthia stared daggers at her smiling friend.  She winced, but managed to make that her only reaction when Ellen removed the left clamp.

Ellen reached down, rummaged in the box on the floor, and produced a large coil of thin white cord.  She then stood erect and looked up at the ceiling.

"I think I know where this is going," Kim said, then pointed to a spot ten feet removed and directly in front of Tori's gagged and glowering face.  "There's an eye-bolt screwed into the beam, right there."

Ellen and Kim walked over and Kim pointed, again.  "Perfect," Ellen said.  "It's so dark down here I couldn't see it."

Kim carried over a folding footstool, deployed it under the eye-bolt, and climbed to the second step.  Ellen handed her one end of the cord, then put both hands on Kim's waist to steady her as she reached up and threaded the string-like strand through the eye-bolt.

Meanwhile Bibi and Megan had restored Cynthia's earrings and necklace to their proper settings, the petite captive's earlobes and collared throat.

"Very pretty," Megan said, combing her fingers through Cynthia's bangs.

"Very," Bibi agreed.

Cynthia glared from face to grinning, gloating face.  It was her duty as the loser of Inga's lottery and the designated gloatee.

Kim climbed down from the stool and, together with Ellen, returned to the group.  One end of the cord dangled from the eye-bolt and the other in Ellen's hand.

Tori watched as Ellen tied a non-compacting knot in the cord, forming a loose noose around the steel chain joining the clover-clamps.  Tori knew where this was going as well.  They all did.

Bibi strolled to the vertical cord dangling from the eye-bolt and took it in her hand, to prevent it from playing out.

Smiling sweetly, Kim and Ellen massaged Tori's nipples.  The dark-pink nubbins grew erect in their fingers.

"This is very cruel," Kim said.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Ellen purred, then closed a clamp on Tori's right nipple.

Tori glared at her tormentors, but didn't even flinch.

Kim closed the other clamp on Tori's left nipple.  "Very cruel," she agreed.

Again, Tori didn't flinch.

"So strong and beautiful," Ellen purred, smiling at the glaring captive.

"Strong, beautiful," Kim nodded, "but cruel in her own right."

"Yes," Ellen agreed, "which is why it will be so much fun to break her."

Kim nodded.  "By sunrise, she'll be a groveling slave."

"If not," Ellen purred, "there's always tomorrow night, and the night after that."

Tori watched as they turned and walked away to join Bibi at the vertical cord.  They were kidding, of course.  It was all part of the game, all in accordance with The Phantom's scenario—but not the nipple clamps.  That was all on Professor Chen's smiling, gloating, beautiful head.

Megan had custody of Cynthia.  The loop at the end of her leash was on the redhead's right wrist and her left arm was around the little prisoner's waist.  Both were gazing at Tori.  Megan was smiling in open appreciation of her plight.  Cynthia's expression, however, was hidden behind her mask and veil.

"Do you have any weights?" Bibi asked Kim.  "Perhaps eight or ten kilos of lead fishing weights?"

Kim shook her head.  "I'll add them to my shopping list."

Tori knew Bibi was kidding.  "Eight or ten kilos" was really excessive.  Joke or not, it's the thought that counts, Tori fumed, staring daggers at the grinning Swede.

"Not important," Ellen said as she took the cord from Bibi.  She nodded towards a steel support column a few feet away.  "I'm planning on tying it off."

"Is it long enough?" Bibi asked.

"We'll soon find out," Ellen chuckled as she walked towards the column in question.

It turned out the cord was long enough, with several inches to spare, and that turned into about three feet as Ellen gently pulled in the slack.  The smiling professor took two turns around the column at shoulder height, then pulled in what little slack remained.

Tori had no choice but to lean forward as far as her bonds would allow, until her back was arched and her heels an inch off the floor.  The clover-clamps now stretched her nipples up and out and her breasts into slightly elongated cones.  The cord was taut, but not fiddle-string taut.  Nonetheless, Tori's choices were now twofold: hold the current pose, or punish her nipples.  Her back, calf, and foot muscles were already complaining, and this was only the beginning.

Off to the side, Inga had watched as the opening drama of Tori's Testing unfolded.  Now, she strolled to Tori's side, leaned close, and whispered in her left ear.  "Thank you for this, Tori," she purred, and kissed the prisoner's left cheek.  "I can only stay a few more minutes, then I'm leaving for my new job."  She nuzzled Tori's neck as she continued.  "I'm afraid that means I won't be here when the time comes for you to take your Epic Revenge.  But who knows what may transpire in the years to come?  Who knows when we'll meet again, and under what circumstances?  So, farewell for now, my beautiful, helpless, Captured Villainess.  Suffer well."  She gave Tori's cheek a final kiss, then turned and strolled away to stand by the stairs.

Tori turned her head and looked back over her shoulder, watching Inga's departure.  She's leaving now?  Tonight?  Do the others know?  She turned back.  With Kim's assistance, Ellen was unzipping and stepping out of her dress.  Well, I'm certainly not in a position to tell them.  Tori smiled around her gag, although it probably wasn't apparent to the others.  It's just like The Phantom to mysteriously disappear.

Now wearing only silver high heels and sheer, gray stockings held up by a dove-gray garter-belt, Ellen pulled her long black hair back into a ponytail and secured it with a length of black cord.  Her dress was draped over Kim's arms.  Her panties were stuffed in Cynthia's mouth, although Tori didn't know that particular detail.

Tori gazed at Ellen's nearly naked body.  The smiling professor was executing a series of warmup exercises, her muscles gliding under her smooth skin as she twisted her torso, rolled her shoulders, and flexed and stretched her arms and legs.  This wasn't the first time Tori had seen Ellen's magnificent, forty-something physique.  She'd seen all of The Phantom's committee in the university gym, including the steam room and showers.  She'd also seen them bound, gagged, and naked as she licked and teased their helpless bodies to orgasm.

Now, Ellen was running her hand over the items arrayed on the table, her gracefully curved back, dimpled butt, and long legs facing her soon-to-be victim.  She turned, an evil smile on her exquisite face.  The multi-tailed flogger was now in her right hand.  Tori was unsurprised by Ellen's choice.  The twenty or more ribbon-like, leather tails rattled together as Ellen slipped the flogger's safety loop over her wrist and gripped the braided handle.  She resumed her stretching exercises with her left hand gripping the tails.

"Perhaps we should oil her skin," Bibi suggested.

"You may do so when it's your turn," Ellen purred, her eyes locked with Tori's.  "She's already shining a little, and I want to see how she marks before applying oil."  She shifted her smiling gaze to Kim.  "You do have oil, don't you?"

Kim nodded.  "Baby oil, and also a very special oil distilled from ginger root, wintergreen, and stinging nettles."

"Excellent," Ellen chuckled as she strolled behind Tori's spreadeagled body.

"Will you start with her back, her butt, or her thighs?" Megan inquired.

"Hush," Ellen responded.  "Let it be a surprise."

Tori faced forward and glared at the committee (minus Ellen), slowly shifting her gaze from Kim, to Bibi, to Megan, to Cynthia-the-Mouse.  You're all on my list, she promised.  Kim and Ellen are at the top, at the moment, but you're ALL on my list.  She heard a swish and—"MRRF!—her back exploded in pain.

Gwen groped her way towards Clem with cautious steps.  The prisoner-of-the-bed provided course corrections in the form of "Mrrrfs" and "Nrrrfs."  It was like a game of blind man's bluff, naked blind man's bluff as both participants were nude.  Or maybe it's Bondage Marco Polo, Clem considered.

Finally, Gwen arrived, stumbling into the side of the bed and nearly tripping across Clem's spreadeagled body.  "Ah!  Why didn't you warn me?" she demanded.

Because I'm GAGGED, maybe? Clem fumed.  She's drunk.

Meanwhile, Gwen was exploring the surface of the bed and had immediately encountered her BFF's pinioned, naked form.  "Oh!  You're naked."

Clem rolled her eyes.  No shit, Sherlock.  Gwen was running her hands over Clem's thighs and tummy and—"MRRRF!"—the area between.

"Completely naked," Gwen amended her assessment.  She groped her way up Clem's body, across her boobs and shoulders and to her face.  She ran her fingers over Clem's tape-gagged mouth.  "Hold still," she cautioned as she sat on the bed and carefully teased back a corner of the plastic strip.

Clem heaved a sigh.  I AM holding still.  Geesh!

The strip peeled away, stretching Clem's lips in the process.  "There," Gwen said as she folded the plastic on itself and tossed it aside.  "You're welcome."  She returned her hands to Clem's face and began a gentle exploration.  "It is you, isn't it?"

"Who else could it be?" Clem demanded.  "Take off that stupid mask."

"It's locked," Gwen explained, then slid her hands over the padded collar padlocked around Clem's throat.  "There's a lot of that going around."

Clem tugged on her wrist and ankle cuffs, causing their padlocks to rattle.  "Tell me about it."

"Tell you about what?"  Gwen shook her head, causing her red curls and the feathers of her mask to flutter.  "Sorry, I'm a little buzzed."

"Me too," Clem admitted.  "So..."

"Yes?"

"What happened to you?" Clem demanded.

"You mean after you so callously abandoned me helplessly bound and gagged in the Room of Requirement?"

Clem couldn't help but smile.  "Yes, after that."

Gwen sighed.  "Okay.  I'll tell my story, then you can tell yours."

"Deal."

Gwen rested her left hand on Clem's stomach—then realized what she was doing and pulled it back.  "Well...  I was rolling around on the futon suffering in cruel bondage—"

"Dial back the color commentary," Clem chuckled.

"Only if you stipulate you're an evil villainess," Gwen countered.

"Sure," Clem conceded.  "I'm an evil villainess."

"Allrightiethen," Gwen giggled.  "I was waiting for you to return and finally you did—but it wasn't you!"

Gwen continued telling her tale.