by Van ©2013
		Chapter 10

Gwen heaved a huge yawn before continuing.  "Anyway, Inga unlocked the wrist-cage thingie and my collar, removed the ball-gag from around my neck, gave me a peck on the lips and a pat on the rump, pushed me inside and locked the door... and here I am."

"And here you are," Clem agreed.  Gwen had reclined on the twin-sized bed soon after she started telling the tale of her abduction by The Phantom.  She'd sprawled against Clem's loosely spreadeagled and naked body and there was significant skin-to-skin contact, but it was all perfectly innocent and platonic, of course.  After all, Gwen couldn't sit on the edge of the bed all night.  What else can she do? Clem thought.

"By the way," Gwen continued.  "Inga said my gag was pretty, that it looked like a fire-opal.  Did it?"

Clem couldn't help but smile.  "Yes, Gwendoline, your gag was very pretty.  Very jewel-like."

"Good."  Gwen yawned, again.  "So, I guess it's your turn to talk."

Actually, it was Clem's turn to yawn.  "Later, okay?  It's gotta be well past midnight.  Let's get some sleep."

"You talked me into it," Gwen muttered.  She reached down the bed and pulled the top sheet and bedspread over both their bodies, then snuggled for comfort against and somewhat across Clem's pinioned form.

The feathers of Gwen's mask/blindfold tickled Clem's right boob in the process, but Clem bit her lower lip and managed to respond with only a little wiggling of her own.  She turned her head—an action allowed by the loose, padded collar padlocked around her neck—and glanced at the pristine second bed, but didn't mention it to Gwen.  Truth be told, Clem was grateful for the company.  And Gwen's graphic description of how Inga-The-Phantom had made love to her had nothing to do with anything.  Clem was the helpless one (at the moment) and Gwen didn't need protection or comforting (at the moment), and it wasn't like Clem was jealous or anything.  That was absurd!  But...

Clem closed her eyes.  I'll sort this out later... tomorrow.  She yawned, again.  Whatever.  As far as she could tell, Gwen was already asleep.

Ellen flogged Tori's back, butt, and thighs for several very long minutes.

Whack!  .....  Whack!  .....  Whack!

Slowly, pausing between strokes—Whack!—Ellen worked her way left-to-right and up-and-down across the back of Tori's spreadeagled body.  Whack!  She was not gentle, but she wasn't breaking the skin or leaving serious marks.  Whack!  Granted, Tori's firm, dimpled buttocks, strong thighs, and muscled back had become seriously pink—Whack!—but Ellen wasn't causing any real damage.

After the shock of the initial blow, Tori managed to contain her vocal reactions.  Whack!  She'd wince when a particularly enthusiastic blow would fall, but that was all.  Whack!  She glowered at her audience over her ball-gag, and in response they smiled and exchanged whispered comments as they strolled in and out of her field of view.  Whack!  They were individually going back to study the direct action of the flogger on her skin—Whack!—then returning in a minute or two to enjoy her reactions... or lack thereof.  Kim, Megan, Bibi, and the captive mouse Cynthia were having a ball.  Whack!  Tori was not.

Tori focused on Cynthia.  Okay, she couldn't be absolutely sure her fellow naked prisoner was enjoying the show—Whack!—not with her face hidden my the veil and that cute-but-humiliating mouse mask, but it was a safe bet.  I'll punish you anyway, Tori promised the diminutive scientist.  Just to be sure.

There was an unusually long pause...  during which the suspense built as Tori waited for the next blow to fall...  then Ellen strolled into view.  Through half-closed eyes Tori watched the nearly-naked professor of Linguistics drop the flogger on the table, returning it to its former position in the neat row of torture instruments.  Ellen then turned and smiled.

Tori noted the sweat glistening on Ellen's face... and her breasts... and the rest of her.  Of course, it was nothing compared to the perspiration that was now almost dripping off Tori's own skin, but it was clear Ellen had gotten at least something of a workout—and in the process had earned herself some serious payback.  Tori met her smile with the same gagged stare with which she'd favored the others, and waited to see what she would do to her next.

"I think I'm done for now," Ellen announced, her eyes still locked with her victim.  "Who wants a turn?"

Bibi turned to Megan.  "Shall we go together?"

Megan beamed.  "How very kind."  She joined Bibi at the table and they smiled down at the array before them.  "More pain?"

Bibi picked up a Wartenburg Wheel and tested the needle-sharp spur with the tip of her left index finger.  She delicately winced, then her smile returned.  "I was looking forward to using this to explore Officer Ballantine's entire body."  She returned the wheel to the table and picked up the torpedo vibrator.  "But I can always do that later."

"Yes," Megan agreed as she picked up the wand vibrator.  "Enough spice.  Let's try a little sugar."

The blond and redhead laughed, then strolled towards Tori's spreadeagled and helpless form.

Ellen and Kim were standing close to Cynthia, on either side.  For the moment the mouse-prisoner's leash was dangling loose, its terminal leather loop not around the wrist of one of her fellow academics.  It wasn't what could be called freedom, however, as Cynthia had no place to go.  She might have tried scampering across the basement and up the stairs, but the door at the top was closed and there was no way she could turn the knob with her arms behind her back and doubly encased—first wrapped in skintight, overlapping layers of Sally's new "invisible" tape, and then zipped and buckled into Kim's single-sleeve.  Besides, one of her "captors" would be on her in an instant.  And even if she did make it upstairs, through the kitchen, and across the living room, she'd face the same knob-turning dilemma with the front door.  Cynthia sighed through her panties-and-tape gag.  Escaping naked, bound, gagged, and helpless into the wilds of nighttime suburbia isn't a viable option anyway, she thought.

"We aren't really going to torture poor Tori 'til dawn?" Ellen whispered, "are we?"

"After I tricked her into waiting down here all day?" Kim whispered back.  "Of course not.  I already spoke with Meg and Bibi.  After they've made her cum a few times, they'll take her upstairs to the back guest room."

Ellen smiled.  "Where they'll continue making her cum 'til dawn."

"No doubt," Kim agreed.  "I did make them promise to feed her."  She shifted her gaze down to Cynthia's masked, veiled (and gagged) upturned face.  "We should do the same for Cynthia."

Ellen also smiled at the listening prisoner.  "The feeding... or making her cum?"

Cynthia shifted her gaze from evil smile to evil smile.  I could eat, she thought, and especially drink.  It had not been fun watching the others nibble on savory tidbits and guzzle champagne all night while all she could do was bite down on the three pair of saliva-soaked thong panties crammed in her tape-sealed mouth.

Kim's whispered answer to Ellen's question was ambiguous.  "Yes."

By this time Megan and Bibi had reached Tori and were standing close.  They ran their hands and the buzzing vibrators over her spreadeagled, sweat-glistening body.  The "Captured Villainess" was making a valiant attempt to maintain her stoic demeanor, but it was clear from first contact that she was losing the battle.  Tori shivered in her bonds as the vibrators caressed her breasts and belly.

Bibi and Megan exchanged a smiling nod, then simultaneously released the clamps pinching Tori's nipples and enforcing her strained, leaning-forward-with-back-arched-and-heels-off-the-floor pose.

"MRRRRR!"  Tori went rigid in her bonds, then her entire body quaked as the clover-clamps and chain fell away to swing like a pendulum from the now vertical cord.  The clamps clattered together and spun on their chain, their tips not quite reaching the concrete floor.

"You wore her out," Kim accused Ellen, still in a whisper.  "Otherwise, she wouldn't be reacting like that.  Not this early."

"After you left her hanging from the ceiling all day?" Ellen responded.  "This is my fault?"

"She wasn't hanging from the ceiling," Kim said somewhat defensively.  "Her feet were flat on the floor the entire time."  She shrugged before continuing.  "But your point is valid."

Bibi was concentrating on Tori's breasts with the torpedo.  She paused to lean close and gently kiss her left nipple, then caressed the pink nubbin with the buzzing tip.  Afterwards, she gave her fellow blond's right nipple a slow, wet lick... then teased it with the vibrator as well.

Meanwhile, Megan was massaging Tori's lower stomach and thighs with the wand's saddle, tracing a slow, circular orbit around the prisoner's dark blond pubic thatch and the flushed, pink, glistening folds of her pussy.

"Well, let's leave them to it," Kim sighed, then took hold of Cynthia's leash and slid the leather loop over her right wrist.

"Why not?" Ellen agreed.

Cynthia's opinion was moot.

"We're going to get the mouse some cheese," Kim announced.

"Whatever," Megan responded as Kim and Ellen led the mouse in question towards the stairs.

"We'll keep the Viking Princess entertained," Bibi purred, smiling at Tori's grimacing, gagged face.

It wasn't clear whether the "Viking Princess" knew she was losing the company of the departing trio.  Megan had begun sliding the wand across Tori's labia in a rotating, figure-eight pattern while continuing to caress her tummy and thighs.  "Mmmm."  And Bibi was playing the torpedo back and forth across one nipple while gently sucking and tongue-teasing the other.  "Rrrrrr."

Kim and her captive climbed the stairs.  Dress in hand, Ellen followed.  They entered the kitchen, and just as Ellen was closing the basement door they heard a gag-muffled scream—"MRRRRRPFH!"—from down below.

"That's one," Kim chuckled.  "I warned them to make sure she's really worn out before trying to move her upstairs.

Ellen smiled.  "I saw everything they might need in that box under the table."

Kim was piling a generous selection of hors d'oeuvres on a small plate, including the aforementioned cheese.

Meanwhile, her dress thrown across her right shoulder, Ellen found a clean flute and pulled an unopened bottle of champagne from the wine cooler.  "Is there going to be room for the three of us on your bed?" she inquired.

"It's king-size," Kim shrugged.  "And if we decide it is too crowded, we'll leave the mouse hogtied on the floor."

Ellen laughed and headed for the bedrooms.

Kim followed with Cynthia trailing close behind at the end of her leash.  "Keep it quiet," she warned the others in a whisper.  "We don't want to wake up the kids."

The naked captive sighed behind her gag.  Hogtied on the floor wouldn't be too bad, she decided, as long as they feed me first.  Kim was probably kidding, but even if she wasn't, it wouldn't be the first time Cynthia had slept in bondage.

Tori lost consciousness as Megan and Bibi coaxed a third orgasm from her spreadeagled body.

Bibi had gotten her wish to explore Tori's tits and stomach with the Wartenberg Wheel between orgasms two and three, but it was a perfunctory session, a brief interlude while they let Tori "rest."  After a few minutes the wheel disappeared, the vibrators reappeared, and round three commenced.

The captive tugged on her bonds and mewled through her gag and finally—after long minutes of buzzing, titillating "torture"—the inevitable wave of pleasure wracked her exhausted body, but by this time it was more a drenching flood than a tsunami.

And then all went black.

Tori opened her eyes to find herself face down on the concrete floor—the blessedly cool concrete floor.  Megan was buckling a leather collar around her throat while Bibi was using a double-ended spring-clip to join the rings dangling from the straps of her ankle-cuffs.  Her wrist cuffs remained buckled tight but were otherwise unsecured.  At this point, it was well within the realm of possibility that a trained "Security Specialist" like Tori could have turned the tables on her handlers, despite the disadvantageous position and partial bondage, but Tori didn't even try.  She'd agreed to this testing and Tori Ballantine wasn't a quitter.  Besides, she was...  So.  Tired.  Tori did have the presence of mind to note the growing pile of tiny padlocks on the floor off to the right of her head.  Her handlers were unlocking all of her restraints, cuffs and gag, removing the added security.

The opportunity for Tori to mount a heroic escape passed.

Working in concert, Bibi and Megan clipped the D-rings at the ends of the wrist-cuffs' suspension straps to the back of Tori's collar, then clipped together the D-rings on the sides of the cuffs.  Her arms were now bound behind her back in what might be called a semi-reverse-prayer and her feet linked by an inelegant and floppy strap-and-clip hobble.  The combination ball-gag/strap-gag still filled her parched mouth and compressed her dry lips.

Bibi and Megan lifted Tori to her unsteady feet, then helped her up the stairs to the kitchen.  Megan headed for the refrigerator while Bibi continued shepherding Tori through the door to the living room and down the hall.  They passed the door of Clem and Gwen's bedroom, then the master bedroom.  Their ultimate destination, the back guest room, was directly ahead, but Bibi made a side trip to the bathroom.

Bibi settled Tori on the commode, then wet a washcloth and cleaned the prisoner's gagged and glowering face.  Tori managed to empty her bladder, then Bibi flushed the toilet, pulled Tori to her hobbled feet, and used the wet cloth to clean her crotch.  "There we are," the blond not naked and in bondage remarked, then tossed the cloth in the washbasin and led Tori through the door.

Megan was waiting at the closed guest room door, a small plate piled with various hors d'oeuvres in one hand and a bottle of champagne and an empty flute in the other.  "A little help here?" she whispered, smiling and nodding at the doorknob.

"My pleasure," Bibi said as she opened the door.

The bedroom beyond was typical in size and shape and its decor matched the rest of Kim Pappas' house (not counting the basement).  There was only one bed, but it was king-size.  There would be room on the wide mattress for all three, especially if they were friendly.

Bibi led Tori to the bed and they sat, thigh touching thigh with their feet on the carpeted floor.  By this time Tori was somewhat recovered from her ordeal, but it was clear she was still very tired.

Megan placed the plate on the bed and the flute on the nightstand, then removed the foil and stopper from the champagne.  Pop!  She poured bubbly into the flute.

Meanwhile, Bibi had opened the buckle of Tori's gag to the first hole in its strap and re-secured the buckle.  She eased the ball from her mouth, then let the gag dangle around her throat.  "You're welcome," she purred as she leaned close and kissed Tori's cheek.

Tori licked her lips and stared straight ahead.  She had not said thank you, nor did she intend to.  Megan held the flute to her lips and she drank—in fact, she drained the glass.  Tori didn't offer thanks for that, either, although she was certainly glad to quench her thirst.

Megan refilled the flute and took a sip, handed it to Bibi, then picked up the plate of food and sat on Tori's left.  "Feeding time," she chuckled, then popped a bacon-wrapped mini-sausage into Tori's frowning mouth.  "Don't be such a storm cloud," she chided.

Tori chewed and swallowed, then favored the smiling redhead with an even stare.  "I'm going to make you suffer," she promised.  The flute reappeared and she took a sip, then shifted her gaze to Bibi.  "Both of you."  Megan offered her a small egg roll and she opened her mouth, let Megan place it inside, then chewed and swallowed.  "All of you," she amended.  "You're all going to suffer."

"But not tonight," Megan responded.  Bibi held the flute to her lips and Tori took another sip.  Megan waited for her to swallow, then fed a tiny sandwich to the still clearly angry naked captive.  Megan wasn't fooled.  The helpless Captured Villainess was mad and at some point she would wreak Horrible Vengeance on her tormentors, without a doubt, but it was all part of the game.

"If she's going to be rude and ungrateful," Bibi chuckled, "we could make her eat on the floor like a bad doggie."

"Don't be silly," Megan chuckled.  She handed the plate to her fellow handler, accepted the flute in return, then refilled if from the now half-empty bottle.  "We'd have to be cruel bitches, indeed, to make poor Tori eat on the floor."

"You're a couple of cruel bitches, you know that?" Cynthia muttered.  She was kneeling on the carpet in the middle of the master bedroom.  Her mask, veil, and gag had been removed, but her fingers, hands, and arms remained wrapped in tape and zipped and strapped in the leather single-sleeve binder.  The collar was still buckled around her throat, but its leash had been removed.  The plate of hors d'oeuvres was directly in front of her knees and she was glowering at Kim and Ellen, who were sitting on the foot of the bed and smiling at her—in a gloating, infuriating manner.

"I thought you were hungry?" Kim inquired innocently.

"She certainly guzzled the champagne," Ellen chuckled.  She'd already removed her shoes and garter belt and was peeling down her stockings, her only remaining clothing.

Cynthia continued her We-are-not-amused pout (and carefully suppressed the smile tugging at the corners of her bow lips.  The situation was funny, even she had to admit.)

Fully nude, Ellen stood and stretched.

Kim smiled.  "Don't use all the hot water."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ellen answered as she gracefully padded to the master bath and closed the door behind her.

There was a brief pause... then the sound of the shower running.

"I removed all the toothpicks and other impediments to hands-free dining," Kim said, still smiling at her helpless, naked guest.  "Aren't my selections to your liking?  I chose a little bit of everything... Little Bit."

"Shut up," Cynthia growled, but she'd lost the struggle not to smile.  She lowered her face to the plate and delicately tongued a wonton-like tidbit into her mouth.  "Yum," she muttered as she chewed and swallowed.  "Pork.  Korean."

"I believe so," Kim confirmed, then removed her shoes, placed them next to Ellen's, and stood.  "I think Inga has left," she said.

"Left the party or left town?" Cynthia asked, then leaned down and gobbled a Swedish meatball.

"The party, at the very least."  Kim had unzipped and removed her dress and was in the process of removing her pantyhose and panties.  "I'll make a discrete inquiry in the morning to see if she's begun her journey."

Cynthia continued eating.  "I'm going to miss her," she said between bites.  "And I know you are."

Kim gathered her clothing and shoes, Ellen's as well, and padded to her walk-in closet.  "I'm sure we'll see her again soon," Kim called from the closet.  She was hanging up the dresses.  "No later than the first of the year."

Cynthia smiled.  "Unless her new employer decides to keep her on a short leash."

"Figurative or literally?" Kim inquired as she strolled back into the bedroom.

Cynthia shrugged her strap-yoked shoulders, then resumed eating.

"I'm very proud of the youngsters," Kim said as she went to the bedroom door, turned a key in its lock, then strolled to the bed and placed the key in the bedside table's top drawer.

"I thought you were crazy when you explained Inga was going to 'invite' them to the party," Cynthia said, "but you were right, as always.  Clementine and Gwendoline were up to the challenge."

Kim was refilling the champagne flute.  "Megan is making arrangements to help them continue their extracurricular activities next year."

Cynthia nodded.  "I heard."

Kim sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Cynthia and her now much depleted plate, then held the flute so the kneeling prisoner could take a sip.

Just then Ellen emerged from the master bath, nude and toweling her hair.  "It feels good to be clean," she purred, then wrapped the towel as a turban.  She accepted the flute from Kim, took a sip, then nodded towards the bathroom.  "All yours."

Kim smiled, stood, and padded towards the bath.

Ellen took Kim's place, sitting on the floor.  "Do you have a riding crop up here?" she asked, directing the question at her departing fellow-handler, "or do I have to go back down to the basement?"

Kim gestured to the walk-in closet.  "In the very back, hanging from hooks behind the clothing."

"Hooks, plural?" Ellen chuckled.

"Riding crops—large, medium, and small floggers—large, medium, and small paddles—etc."  She smiled from the bathroom door.  "Keep the noise down, okay?  We don't want to wake the others."

"I just want to make sure Cynthia is an obedient little mouse," Ellen explained, her lips curled in an evil smirk.  "And I doubt if Professors Whelan and Knudsen or Officer Ballantine are asleep."

"Probably not," Kim agreed.  "My concern is for the youngsters."

"Point taken," Ellen purred, then locked eyes with Cynthia.  "I'll gag her if I need to punish her."

"Also on hooks in the closet," Kim chuckled, then closed the bathroom door.

Cynthia glared at Ellen as the shower started.

"Don't be like that," Ellen chuckled.  "You know I'm only kidding."

"You're also half-drunk," Cynthia muttered, "and you had waaay too much fun flogging poor Tori."

Ellen held the flute for Cynthia to take another sip.  "Clean your plate and promise to be a good little mouse and the Dragon Lady won't have to whack your butt."

Cynthia favored the "Dragon Lady" with a prim smile, then resumed eating.

Ellen watched as Cynthia leaned forward and used her lips and tongue to maneuver one of the remaining hors 'd'oeuvres into her mouth, sat up, chewed and swallowed, then repeated the process.  Each time, her breasts hung as she visited the plate, then bobbed when she sat erect.

"What?" Cynthia demanded.

"I was thinking how cute your boobies would be bound with hemp cord," Ellen purred, "but something much more elaborate than a simple Shinju harness."

Cynthia chewed a meatball, her lips pursed in another We-are-not-amused moue.  It was flattering, actually, that Ellen wanted to tie up her tits.  She swallowed, leaned forward and mouthed the last tidbit, a bacon-wrapped sausage, then sat back on her heels.  Ellen's eyes were still on her breasts, and Cynthia realized that her nipples were tingling.  It reminded her of the Peanuts cartoon in which Linus complains, "I'm aware of my tongue!"  Cynthia had become aware of her breasts.  It was... irritating.  Ellen's boobs weren't quite as voluminous as her own, but they'd also look good bulging in a cat's cradle of hemp cord.  She considered sharing that observation, but decided that probably wasn't a good idea.  Best to let the topic of tied up tits drop, she decided, so to speak.

Ellen pulled the towel from her head, tossed it aside, and shook out her still slightly damp, raven-black hair.  "Hurry up," she urged her kneeling, helpless charge.  "It's time for bed."

Cynthia chewed and swallowed.  "I am tired," she purred.

"Tired?" Ellen chuckled.  "I said time for bed, not time to go to sleep."

Cynthia rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet, causing her breasts to bob, again.  She followed Ellen to the bed and watched her pull back the covers, climb between the sheets, and smile. 

Ellen patted the mattress.  "You aren't actually gonna make me go get the riding crop, are you?"

"No, I'm not, Dragon Lady," Cynthia sighed.  "We ought to pitch in and buy you a t-shirt with a red dragon and the words 'Dragon Lady' in Chinese restaurant font."

Her lips curled in a coy smirk, Ellen crooked a beckoning finger.  "C'mon, Little Mouse."

"And a gong," Cynthia added as she sat and rolled onto the bed.  "A great big Oriental gong.  Your TA can ring it whenever you enter a classroom.  Gong!"

"How very humorous," Ellen chuckled, "and only mildly racist and culturally insensitive."

Cynthia gasped in mock outrage.  "You started it, Dragon Lady."

"Touché."  Ellen pulled back the covers and made a languid gesture towards her crotch.  "Just for that, the Round-eyed Barbarian Mouse will lick the Dragon Lady's pussy."

"Or else?" Cynthia inquired.

"Or else," Ellen confirmed.

Cynthia heaved a theatrical sigh.  "Just so it's clear I'm doing this against my will and under the threat of dire punishment."

Ellen lay on her back.  "More like willingly and with the promise of serious payback in kind, but whatever motivates your tongue."

Cynthia's bow lips curled in a devilish smile, she squirmed between Ellen's legs, rolled onto her stomach, and proceeded to carry out her handler's orders.

Kim emerged from the master bath about two minutes later, naked and toweling her hair, as Ellen had before.  "Thanks for waiting," she chuckled.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Ellen gasped.  "I was d-distracted.  Eeee!"

"I can see that," Kim purred as she wrapped the towel around her head like a turban, also as Ellen had before.  She sat on the bed, leaned close and kissed Ellen's lips.  Cynthia was busy between the panting Professor Chen's legs, her head bobbing as she performed her assigned task with due diligence.  Kim placed her left hand between Cynthia's firm, tan, dimpled buttocks and began massaging the little captive's labia.  She also took Ellen's left breast in a firm grip with her right hand and gently squeezed.

Ellen reached up and gripped the headboard with both hands.  "Eeeeee!" she whined, again, putting her head back and clenching her eyes closed.

"Not so fast," Kim chuckled.  "Slow it down, waaay down."  It wasn't clear if she was cautioning Cynthia, Ellen, or both.  Her lips curled in a kittenish grin, she continued frigging Cynthia's pussy and massaging Ellen's breast.  "We have hours 'til dawn," she purred.