A TALE OF SEDUCTION, COERCION, & ART
by Van © 2003
Our story continues
The evening faded as Bess stood in her bonds, waiting for Maggie to return. Naked, arms raised, hands locked in padded "Slave Mitts," legs splayed, ankles in soft nylon cuffs, and gagged with a foam ball and rubber mask... waiting was Bess' only option. I need a plan, she decided, something clever... so I can keep my job, get my bonus, but do it without being a naked, bound and gagged, Star Ranger stand-in. Star Fox had every chance of becoming a smash hit and making the studio tons of money, but this was a part of "Development Hell" Bess could do without. All I need is a plan... Bess stared out the picture windows at the darkening forest... but nothing came.
Eventually the forest was lost in the full dark of night and the last of the sunset had faded into horizon glow, and something did come... or more correctly, some one. The studio door opened and Maggie stepped through. She had added a green Lands' End jacket to her ensemble of sleeveless blouse and jeans but her feet were still bare. "It's getting downright chilly out there," Maggie announced, turning on the overhead lights.
Bess' answer was a rather rude but unintelligible remark and some strenuous tugging on her bonds.
Maggie unzipped and removed her jacket. "You managed to find yourself some slack, I see," she said with a grin, then disappeared behind the green screen curtains.
When Maggie returned Bess was alarmed to see a coil of thick, black, braided rope in her captor's hands. Bess shook her head emphatically and mewed through her gag. " Nhh-hhm! "
"Now Bess," Maggie cooed, "don't be difficult." The gloating redhead shook out the coil and draped it over Bess' shoulders, the rope's center at the nape of her neck and the two long equal ends dangling down her front to either side of her heaving breasts. Bess protested again, but was ignored as Maggie pulled the ends under her arms and tied a square knot between her shoulder blades. Then, leaning close, she pulled a figure-eight hitch around the captive's torso, framing and crossing between Bess' breasts. "Watch them bulge," she whispered in Bess' left ear as she tugged the ends tight and tied another knot.
Bess looked down. Her breasts were being pinched by the rope, but only slightly. Maggie reached for Bess' right mitt and the captive watched as Maggie's strong fingers unsnapped the "Interrogation Frame's" strap, then pulled her arm behind her back. Rope slithered through the ring in the cuff, then Maggie reached up and Bess' left hand joined her right. Bess tugged on her new bonds.
"Stop that!" Maggie scolded. "I'm not done yet."
Rope bands passed around Bess' arms and torso, above and below her pinched breasts, then were hitched between her arms and torso. Maggie pulled on the remaining free ends and Bess felt her left cuff being tugged to the right and her right cuff to the left. The rope was threaded through the juncture between her wrists, up and through the loop at the nape of her neck, back down to her arm bonds, and Maggie heaved.
Bess complained as everything tightened up. She squirmed and struggled, but that only seemed to help the process. Maggie tied a final knot and stepped to the front. Bess glared at her captor, shaking her head to clear her tousled hair from her face.
"You're very pretty like that, Bess," Maggie said, smiling sweetly. "Tangled curls framing your gagged face, angry, brave, helpless... Very pretty." Bess' nostrils flared above her gag and her breasts heaved in their rope framed captivity. Maggie's smile broadened as she reached out and cupped her prisoner's breasts. " Very pretty," she repeated.
Here it comes, Bess thought, shuddering under her captor's gentle caress. She closed her eyes as Maggie knelt at her splayed legs. The prisoner clenched her thighs, waiting for the gloating redhead to lean close and—" Bess opened her eyes. Maggie was releasing her ankle cuffs.
"If you kick me," Maggie said with a coy grin, "you don't get any dessert." The relieved (or was it disappointed?) prisoner blinked and stared as Maggie retrieved her jacket. To the captive's surprise, it was draped over her shoulders, then zipped closed over her upper body. Maggie led her to the door and pulled it open. Their hair fluttered in the chill breeze. "Step lively," the shivering redhead ordered, "or I'm taking the jacket back."
Bess squirmed in the hard kitchen chair. Naked once again, her ankles were crossed and bound to the cross brace under the chair. She wiggled her toes, but they were inches from the hardwood floor. Additional ropes that lashed Bess to the chair across her thighs and around her waist augmented the black rope bonds Maggie had applied in the studio.
Maggie carried two steaming plates to the table. "Lasagna Belmonte!" she announced, and set them down, one in front of Bess, the other at the place she had set beside her glaring captive. "Also, insalata, garlic bread, and vino rojo. Manga! " She sat and took a bite of salad, then chewed, swallowed, and smiled coyly. "Silly me!" She reached over and unbuckled Bess' mask gag, tossed it aside, then plucked the foam ball-gag from her mouth. She pulled the gag's rubber band over Bess' head, but left it around her hair in the back, enforcing a loose ponytail. "That'll keep those pretty raven curls out of your face while I feed you."
Bess worked her jaw for a few seconds, licked her dry lips, and opened her mouth. Maggie preempted whatever she was planning to say by holding a large goblet of wine to Bess' lips. Bess sighed, drank, then glared as her captor set down the glass. "Don't even try to pretend this has anything to do with the damn movie," she growled. "This is kidnapping! "
"False imprisonment, maybe," Maggie said. "Would you like me to call the Sheriff? There's this really cute little deputy I know. She's about five two, maybe a little taller, with long dark hair like yours, only straight. She has the most incredible set of lips. They curl in this delightful little quirky pout when she smiles. Big brown eyes to die for, like Bambi's mother. I keep trying to get her to pose for me, but—"
"Untie me this second!" Bess interrupted. "Untie me or—m'mmpfh!" Maggie had forked a large bite of salad into Bess' mouth. The prisoner chewed and swallowed. "Thank you... That's delicious. Kalamata olives?" Maggie nodded, chewing a mouthful of lasagna. "Delicious..." Bess licked a smear of dressing from her lower lip. "Now untie me!"
Maggie swallowed, then forked some lasagna into Bess' mouth. "Boom-Boom said I was eccentric, didn't she?"
Bess laughed. "She didn't say you were a rope fiend.""
Maggie chewed a mouthful of salad, then sipped her wine. "'Rope fiend'... I don't think I like that. Let's try... Rope Artist! Yes, that's much better." She forked more lasagna between Bess' pouting lips.
Bess chewed and swallowed. "You can't just keep me tied up all the time."
"How 'bout most of the time?" Maggie countered. "Actually... why not?"
Bess laughed again. "Why not? Because... because... Okay, I can't stop you, but eventually you have to let me go, and then—"
"And then Boom-Boom gives you a big fat bonus and maybe a promotion, and someday you get to produce something on your own, and get stinking rich, and win a mantle load of Oscars?"
Bess stared at her captor/hostess as additional salad found it's way to both their mouths. "At least can I have some clothes?"
"Maybe. Probably not."
Bess accepted a sip of wine. "Can you untie me now and then?"
"Maybe," Maggie purred. "Probably not. I believe in 'The Method.'"
Bess snorted, "method acting?"
"Method modeling," Maggie clarified. "It's much easier to pose as a helpless prisoner when you are a helpless prisoner."
Bess twisted in her bonds and frowned. "This is tight and uncomfortable and it sucks!"
Maggie filled her captive's scowling mouth with more lasagna. "See? You're getting into the method already. Now... stop chatting and chew. Plums in Port for dessert."
Bess sighed as Maggie led her through the house. Most of the lights were off, so she couldn't see much detail, just knew she was moving through large, tastefully appointed rooms. Her stomach was full (and she was ever-so-slightly drunk from the abundance of excellent wine Maggie had served with dinner), but her mitts and rope bonds were still pinning her arms, pinching her breasts, and robbing her of the use of her hands. They came to a set of double doors overlooking a flagstone patio. Through the thick glass Bess beheld a large, circular, sunken tub. About six feet across, it was lit from within. Tendrils of steam rose into the night air from its glowing, roiling surface.
Bess turned to find Maggie pulling her top over her head... then stepping out of her jeans... then removing her panties.
"You're going in the hot tub?" Bess mumbled.
Nude (and as beautiful as the marble self-portrait in her gallery) Maggie regarded her prisoner with a sardonic grin. "I don't think I've ever had a model before with your keen grasp of the obvious. Actually, we're going in the hot tub. We need to test the mitts to make sure they're waterproof."
Bess smiled shyly. "You'll forgive me if I'm a little nervous."
"I will?" Maggie asked. "Surely you've been in a hot tub before?
"Don't call me Shirley," Bess responded.
Maggie laughed. "Tipsy little flirt! I think I like you better when you pout." She hooked a finger through Bess' bonds and led her outside, then closed the doors behind them, released her prisoner, and hurried to the hot tub. She settled into the steaming water and looked back at her captive. "Well...?"
Bess shivered in her bonds. The wind gusted and she hurried to the steaming tub. "Uh... Keep your hands to yourself, okay?"
Maggie smiled. "Get in here before you freeze to death and I have to call Boom-Boom for a replacement."
Bess dipped her right foot into the water and carefully planted it on the first step of the stairs built into the tub's interior.
"Sorry," Maggie said, and stood (water dripping and steam rising from her pale, freckled body). She put her arms around Bess' naked form and helped her negotiate the remaining steps, then released her prisoner and sat back down.
Bess found a seat opposite her grinning hostess. "This is nice," she conceded
"Let's get something out in the open," Maggie suggested. "I find you very attractive. You're beautiful, athletic, intelligent, ambitious... and I can tell by the way you look at me... the feeling's mutual."
Bess blushed. (Or was she just flushed from the 105º F water bubbling around her naked, helpless body?) "You're awfully sure of yourself."
"And you like that in a dominatrix, don't you?"
Bess squirmed in her bonds, staring at her grinning captor.
Maggie sighed. "Not to worry, Bessie. I'm a hedonistic kidnapper, not a rapist. Enjoy the water... and the stars."
Bess looked up and gasped. Millions of stars filled the heavens... billions! "My God!"
"One of the perks of living waaaay out here in the boondocks," Maggie purred, and looked up as well. She lifted her right hand and pointed. (Steam rose from her pale arm, hand and graceful finger.) "See those stars?"
Bess tried to follow, but it was difficult. "Uh... not really."
Maggie crossed the roiling water and settled next to Bess. Their hips and outer thighs touched. She raised her hand again. "Cassiopeia..." Maggie's hand moved slightly, traced a sideways "V," then crossed it. "And that's Andromeda."
"I'll take your word for it," Bess said softly.
Maggie turned her head and whispered in Bess' ear. "I never lie to my models."
Bess snuggled under the warm sheets of her bed, sighed, and reflected on the most recent events of this remarkable day.
Eventually the heat of the hot tub had become intolerable and Maggie had helped her back into the house. She had dried her prisoner with a huge fluffy towel, then herself. Bess had felt hot, relaxed, and sleepy (...and horny).
Half expecting to find herself in the master bedroom, Bess was surprised when Maggie had led her back to her designated guest room. She was equally surprised (and relieved) when Maggie had untied the ropes pinning her arms to her sides and her mitts behind her back; however, Maggie did not remove the Slave Mitts themselves. Bess noted her duffle had been delivered (not that she could open it or make use of its contents, not with her fingers still encased).
"The bathroom door is locked open," Maggie announced. "The shower, sink, commode, and bidet are all automatic, as you know. The alarm will sound at six A.M. Be ready for breakfast as soon as possible. I'll come for you." She gave Bess a quick kiss, then sauntered towards the door, coiling Bess' former bonds as she went.
Naked and gloriously beautiful in the dim light of the hallway, a feral smile on her angelic face, Maggie paused at the threshold. "One last thing, Bess. I like my models to maintain a state of... tension; so no playing with yourself without my permission, and tonight you don't have permission."
Bess remembered staring at her hostess, employer, captor (...dominatrix?), completely at a loss for words.
"If you need anything during the night," Maggie continued, "just scream and pound on the door in pathetic helplessness." She pulled the door closed... and Bess was alone.
Bess rolled onto her back and lifted her encased hands. The mitts glistened in the dim light provided by the bedroom's night light. 'No playing with yourself...' Who the hell does she think she is? Experimentally, she reached back under the covers and rubbed the smooth plastic of the right mitt against her sex. Nothing. Well... very little. The plastic was too slippery, the padding too soft.
'...And tonight you don't have permission...' I don't need your permission, Bitch! It's a head game... a twisted head game. Well, I won't play! Bess tried rubbing the slick mitt across her flushed labia again, and again the result was... unsatisfying. Bess paused in her efforts. Wait... How do I not play? Disobedience is a move... not non-participation. She sighed in frustration (both mental and sexual), then lifted her head and looked around, straining to focus on the room's contents in the near darkness. She hadn't realized it before, but the furnishings were Danish Modern and/or built into the walls. Bess shuddered in frustration. I'm not a damn animal! She can't make me hump her furniture like a mindless... Bess blinked in the darkness. But she ordered me not to... Bess stifled a scream of frustration and shuddered under the soft sheets.
She tried again with her right mitt, and this time the edge of the cuff and the first few inches of her forearm brushed against her sex. Now that feels good! She slid her forearm back and forth and shuddered, for the first time not from frustration. Maybe I can get a towel from the bathroom, she mused, and hold it between my teeth and toes, and... Bess stopped... and pounded her mitts against the bed. No! I'm not an animal! I'm not her sex toy or plaything or slave or... or...
Bess stared at the dark ceiling and sighed. "That bitch!" she muttered under her breath. She did this to me on purpose. I'm... hot... and bothered... and I can't ...WON'T ...do anything about it! Her helplessness and the certain knowledge that Maggie had deliberately teased and manipulated her into her current condition only fueled Bess' frustration. That bitch! ...I need a plan.
Jane roused herself from her misery. Maggie was finally coming back. She rolled onto her left side and faced the door of her undersized cell. Bound at the wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles, ropes pinning her arms and cleaving her crotch, Jane had struggled for hours without gaining one iota of slack. She was sore, hungry, and pissed off! She heard the lock turn and growled through the silk scarves stuffing and cleaving her mouth.
The bolt rattled, the hinge creaked, and the door opened. Jane blinked in the sudden light. Maggie was smiling at her, kneeling on her haunches... and she was as naked as Jane herself! (Jane wasn't sure whether this was a good, or a bad thing. Maggie's moods were... mercurial. She could be playful and cruel... at once.) How should I play this? Jane wondered, then grimaced when her shoulder muscles spasmed. She twisted in her bonds and made her choice: Jane was pissed! She glared at her redhead captor, fire in her blue eyes.
"Hungry, darling?" Maggie asked sweetly.
Jane growled again... her stomach this time. A cloth was spread on the floor before her kennel-size cell, and on it were a picnic basket, a steaming plate of lasagna, a small salad, and a big goblet of red wine. Her promised "midnight snack" was a veritable feast! Maggie fumbled with the knot of Jane's gag, then helped her expel the silk stuffing.
"You bitch!" the helpless young brunette huffed once her mouth was clear. "I'm sore all over! Every muscle in my freakin' body is screaming! First you make me service you half the night, then you lock me in that damned cage all day, then you lock me in here all night! When I get free I'm gonna—Hey!"
Maggie had reached inside the cramped prison and dragged the captive bundle onto her naked lap. "My new model showed up wearing a really nice pair of black motorcycle boots, knee length, with straps and buckles at the top."
"What the hell does that have to do with—M'mmpfh! "
Maggie had gagged Jane with one hand, and was straightening the bangs of her tousled bob with the other. "They're kind of dusty and could use a good cleaning," Maggie continued. "Now... would you like a nice dinner? Or would you like me to strap a ring gag in that whining, impertinent, complaining mouth of yours, smear honey on Bessie's boots, and lock you back in your kennel with them and not let you out 'til they're clean? Would you like that?"
Jane shook her head in frantic dissent and Maggie released her hand-gag. "You're so mean to me," the young captive complained.
Maggie continued stroking Jane's hair. "And you love every minute of it. Wine?"
Maggie plied her captive with wine, salad, and lasagna.
"So...," Jane said when the feast was mostly consumed, "you like your new model... 'Bessie' was it?"
"Bess to you," Maggie purred, and emptied a covered bowl of Plums in Port into a dog dish. "And yes... I like my new model. She's a looker, and she has courage... like you, Little One."
Jane smiled and swallowed the last bite of lasagna. "A looker, eh?"
"Lissome, bright, really nice skin, pert breasts, flat tummy, wavy black hair... and the whole is more than the sum of its parts with Bess. Know what I mean?"
"What's that about her hole again?"
Maggie grinned. "Potty mouth!"
Jane smiled. "When I get to be a decrepit old woman over forty will I be so easy to please?"
Maggie's grin widened. "Are you jealous Little One? You haven't even laid eyes on her yet."
Jane pouted. "I'm not jealous."
Maggie leaned close and kissed her captive. "You're a treasure, Punkie," she whispered. "Bess is very beautiful. You're very beautiful. I'll tell you a secret: playing with the two of you all day has made me horny ."
"That's no secret," Jane said with a coy smirk. "You smell like a rutting weasel." She nodded towards Maggie's sex. (As her head was still cradled in her captor's naked lap, the intent of the gesture was unmistakable.)
"Impertinent pup!" Maggie scolded (an amused twinkle in her eyes.) She dumped Jane off her lap, stood, and dipped her right foot in Jane's dessert, then held her dripping toes before the grinning captive's face. "Lick it!" she ordered.
"Bitch!" Jane pouted, but took the purple toes in her mouth. (A belying twinkle was in her eyes as well.) Jane's tongue explored Maggie's wiggling toes and her lips puckered and sucked until the thick syrup was gone.
Maggie lifted her saliva dripping toes from Jane's mouth and used them to toy with the prisoner's left nipple. "That tongue of yours is getting better and better. Maybe I should rent it out."
Jane's nipple grew hard under Maggie's continuing attention. "It's not for hire," Jane whispered, then grimaced and stretched in her bonds. "How 'bout a dip in the hot tub?"
Maggie smiled. "It's getting late, and I've already had my dip. Finish your dessert."
"Selfish bitch," Jane muttered, then slithered to the dog dish and began eating.
Maggie waited until Jane was finished, then knelt, untied her ankles and knees, and pulled her to her feet. "We're going back to my room," she announced, "and you can show me more of what your tongue can do."
Jane smirked. "You are horny."
Maggie leaned close and kissed Jane's lips. "Horny, libidinous, ruttish..." She kissed Jane again. "See also lecherous."
Jane giggled. "I get a little action tonight too, okay? You owe it to me after a day of torture."
Maggie smiled. "Why not? But Bess is resting... or maybe simmering ... so we'll have to take a few precautions." She reached into the picnic basket and produced a roll of duct tape. "I want you totally quiet until I have you behind the double doors," she explained.
"Oh... you're such a meanie!" Jane muttered.
"Be a good girl and take your medicine," Maggie said with a chuckle, and crammed Jane's former silk stuffing back into her unresisting mouth. She then ripped off an eight-inch strip of tape and plastered it over Jane's lips. The first strip was followed by a second... then a third. Now Jane's lower face was a smooth silver mask, from just under her button nose to just above her dimpled chin.
Maggie locked eyes with her young prisoner as she smoothed the tape-gag with her strong fingers. "Yes, Bess is a beauty... but she's no Jane Prescott." Her eyes smiling above her gag, Jane snuggled close and nuzzled Maggie's neck. Maggie laughed. "You little minx," she whispered, cuddling her captive close. "We'll clean all this up tomorrow," she added, nodding towards the scattered plates and bowls. She then turned and led her young captive away down the hallway.