by Van ©2012
Chapter 12

Morning light was streaming through the closed windows and open drapes of Maura's master bedroom.  Jane opened her eyes—winced—and swiftly closed them again.  She had done sleep-overs at her BFF's house before (innocent, platonic sleep-overs, of course), so the quick, bleary-eyed glimpse was enough to remind her of exactly where she was.  Thankfully, Jane was on her side and facing away from the windows, so she hadn't been permanently blinded.  Also, there were no songbirds chirping or roosters crowing, so she didn't have to find her Glock and kill anything.

"Mrrf."

"Not yet, Maura," Jane mumbled.  "Lemme sleep."

"Mrrrf!"

"Alright already!" Jane growled and rolled over.  "Why are you mumbling like—"  Jane's eyes popped wide and her jaw dropped in astonishment.  "Oh my GAWD!"

Maura was in the bed next to her.  No surprise there, however—she was gagged with duct-tape!  Multiple bands of silver-gray encircled her head, covering her lower face from just under her nose to the point of her chin, and were tight enough to make her cheeks bulge!

"Maura!"  Jane threw back the covers.  "MAURA!"  Maura was naked, and she was bound with more duct-tape!  Her arms appeared to be folded behind her back and her ankles were crossed and taped together.  "What the hell?  Who did this?"  Jane leaped from the bed.  Her clothes—their clothes—were scattered on the floor.  She lunged for her Glock, still holstered on the belt of her pants.

Maura watched, her gray eyes wide and staring, as Jane did a quick, careful search of the bedroom, weapon at the ready.  Jane then extended the search to the attached master bath and Maura's walk-in closet.  She found nothing.

"I'll be right back," Jane reassured her helpless friend, then searched the rest of the house.  She was still wearing her heather-gray t-shirt, but was otherwise as nude as Maura (not counting Maura's duct-tape bonds).

Anyway, modesty could wait.  Securing the house was Jane's first priority.  She had to make sure whoever had taped-up her BFF was really gone.  Only then would she free the BFF in question and go looking for her missing panties.  Jane conducted a quick search, including the basement and the attic, but found no intruder.  She noted Maura's alarm system was still armed and there were no physical signs of a break in.

Jane rummaged in the kitchen drawers and found an old pair of bandage scissors Maura was using as a food preparation tool, then returned to the bedroom.  She leaped onto the bed and knelt, straddling Maura's bound body, then placed her Glock on the mattress where she could quickly grab it if needed.  She turned Maura's head, found a wrinkle in the tape bands she could attack with the scissors; then, very carefully, but working as quickly as she could, probed with the blunt tip of the scissors and snipped until she'd severed all the layers of the gag.  Finally, the silver tape parted and Jane carefully peeled the sticky mass from Maura's face.  Whoever had done the deed was "nice" enough to lift Maura's hair out of the way as they wrapped her head, so only a few honey-blond strands had to be sacrificed to complete the removal.

"Who did this?" Jane demanded, "and where the hell are my—Oh my GAWD!"  Maura had forced two pair of wet, slimy, wadded panties from her mouth, and Jane recognized one of them as her own!

Maura licked her lips and—to Jane's added astonishment—smiled!  "Good morning," she purred.

"Maura!  What happened?"  Jane went to work on the tape bands binding Maura's ankles.  "Who—"

"You did," Maura interrupted.

Jane stared at Maura's twinkling eyes and smiling face.  "W-what?"

"You did," Maura reiterated.  "You grabbed me and did this... among other things."

"WHAT?"

Maura chuckled.  "You grabbed me in the kitchen and used your handcuffs."

Jane was blushing furiously and gasping like a fish out of water.  "I-I-I d-don't remember anything!"  She went back to removing Maura's remaining tape bonds—snip, snip, snip—rolling Maura onto her side to attack the tight bands binding her forearms together.  Snip-snip-snip.  "Oh gawd.  What else did I do?"

Finally free, Maura stretched—"Ahhhhh!"—and sat up in bed.  She smiled at Jane as she rolled her shoulders.  "Thank goodness for yoga.  Otherwise, I'd be very sore, especially my glenohumeral and acromioclavicular joints, with lesser discomfort in my sternoclavicular and—"

"Maura," Jane interrupted.

Maura's gray eyes danced.  "Sorry.  Well, you stripped off my clothes...  You've ruined my blouse, by the way.  It was an Ann Taylor, and I think that style has been discontinued."

"Maura!" Jane barked.  "Focus!  I stripped you?"

"Yes," Maura nodded, "then, you taped my ankles, removed your handcuffs and taped my arms, then stripped off your pants and panties and stuffed both pairs in my mouth.  Just the panties, of course.  Then—"

"Oh my GAWD!"

"Calm down, Jane," Maura smiled.  "Then... you made love to me... several times."

Jane's eyes couldn't get any wider or her face any redder.  "Oh.  My.  GAWD!"

"It's okay, Jane," Maura said quietly.  "Eleven-point-five to fourteen percent of young women experiment with bisexual experiences at some point, and during my undergraduate years—"

"Maura!  We're both straight!"

"I said 'experiment,' Jane," Maura continued.  She stood and strolled to the walk-in closet, then quickly returned to the bed.  Jane was waiting for her, still sitting on the rumpled covers, confused and mortified.  Maura tossed her a clean pair of panties and a silk robe.  "Take a shower down the hall and I'll use my shower."  She nodded towards the door of the master bath and her smile turned mischievous.  "Unless you'd rather share a shower."

"Maura!"

"No?  Okay, I'll meet you in the kitchen, cook breakfast, and we'll talk.  I think I may know what has happened."

"What?" Jane demanded.  "What happened?"

Maura strolled to the master bath and opened the door, then turned in the threshold and smiled at Jane.  "Take a shower."

The door closed and Jane was alone—still blushing and confused.  "Oh.  My.  Gawd," she whispered under her breath.

Kate Beckett was in the zone.  She was also in her loft apartment, and it was mid-morning of the first day of the week's vacation she'd decided to take.  The drapes were drawn and the only lights on were shining over the open space she used for exercise.  The semi-darkness helped her focus.  Kate was dressed in stretchy, tight workout pants and a tank-top, and her bare feet and hands were wrapped in cloth bandages.

Kate delivered a flurry of punches and a spin-kick to her martial arts dummy.  Thud-thud-thud-whack!  She didn't plan on leaving the city during her time off, didn't have any real plans at all.  She'd relax, work out, catch up on her reading... and think.  Something was bothering her.  She had no idea what it was, but couldn't escape the feeling there was something she was supposed to be doing, something important, but she couldn't remember what it was.  It was infuriating.  Kate took it out on the dummy.  Thud-thud-whack!

Castle—Rick Castle, bestselling author and Kate's unofficial partner—would return from his latest multi-city book tour in four days.  Thud-thud-whack!  He'd promised to call her as soon as he hit town (this time).  Maybe we can get together, she thought, grab a bite... and talk.  She'd already met with Doc Burke once since "The Great Rupandra Debacle" as they'd decided to call whatever had happened to them.

She pictured the faces of Dana Scully, Jane Rizzoli, and Olivia Dunham, and for some reason, Olivia's smiling visage lingered in her mind.   Thud-thud-thud-whack!  Anyway, talking to Burke always helped.  She was actually looking forward to her next appointment.  Thud-thud-whack!  Talking to Castle also helped... usually.  Her lips curled in a ghost of a smile.  If nothing else, Castle's banter was always entertaining.

Buzzz!

It was the building intercom next to the front door.  Kate grabbed a towel, patted her face, then draped the towel around her neck as she walked to the panel.  She pressed the "TALK" button.  "Hello?"

"Kate?" a tinny voice answered.  "It's Olivia, Olivia Dunham."

Kate recognized Olivia's voice—and a thrill rippled through her crotch.  Speak of the devil...  "Olivia!  Come on up."  She held down the "DOOR" button—Buzzzzz—then released it when the raucous noise of the buzzer stopped.  That meant Olivia had opened the building's street door and was on her way into the lobby and up the stairs.

Kate padded to her refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of water, and took a long chug.  She then put it back in the frig and headed for the apartment door, unwrapping her wrists and hands as she went.  Ding-dong.  She opened the door and smiled at Olivia.  "Hi!  Come in."

"Hi!" Olivia answered and crossed the threshold.  She was wearing a navy blue pea coat over a blouse, jacket, slacks, and boots.  A brown paper shopping bag with handles was in her right hand.

Kate patted her face again.  "You up from Cambridge on a case?"

Olivia shrugged.  "No, just for the weekend.  I wanted to hit some bookstores."

"Cause they don't have any good bookstores in Cambridge?" Kate teased.

Olivia grinned.  "New York has better martial arts bookstores," she clarified.

Kate patted her face, again.  "Martial arts?"

Olivia nodded.  "For some reason, I've suddenly started thinking about hojojutsu.  I don't really know why, I just have.  Over the last few days it's become... important."

Kate frowned.  "That's it," she muttered.  "Hojojutsu.  That's what I was trying to remember."  She knew hojojutsu was the traditional Japanese art of capture and restraint with rope or cord, but little else.  It was logical for law enforcement officers to be interested in the discipline.  Knowledge of its techniques would probably come in handy, but Kate had no idea why she was interested now.  And it was a remarkable coincidence that Olivia was also interested—suddenly interested.  "Want something to drink?" Kate offered.

"Sure, thanks."  Olivia peeled off her pea coat and hung it on a coat-hook beside the door, then did the same with the underlying jacket.

Kate opened a chilled bottle of Chardonnay and poured two glasses.  She handed one to Olivia and they settled into a pair of easy chairs.  "How have you been?"

Olivia smiled, then took a sip of wine.  "I've met with Dr. Sweets, the shrink Dana told me to see.  Actually, he's pretty helpful."

"Can you remember anything?" Kate asked, then sipped her own wine.  Olivia shook her head and Kate sighed.  "Same here."  She nodded at the shopping bag.  "Find anything good?"

"They say the best books have never been translated from the Japanese," Olivia answered, "but I found a couple with good diagrams, and a DVD."  She pulled a paperback book from the bag and handed it to Kate.

Kate opened the book and flipped the pages.  It was in Japanese, but its many illustrations were easy to follow.  "Are you fluent in Japanese?"

Olivia shrugged.  "Only a few hundred words, and my kanji is mostly limited to common place names and street signs."

"Where are you staying?"

Olivia shrugged.  "I'm crashing at the Field Office."

"No way," Kate said with a smile.  "I've got plenty of room."  She nodded towards the couch.  "That thing's comfortable.  I assume you brought some things.  Where's your suitcase?"

"It's in my car about a block from here," Olivia answered.

"You found a parking place?" Kate chuckled, then took another sip of wine.  "That's remarkable."

They sipped their wine in companionable silence.  Kate nodded at Olivia's shopping bag, again.  "What else is in there?"

Olivia smiled, reached into the bag, and pulled out two generous coils of black rope.  "This is supposed to be the best stuff for hojojutsu," she explained.  "Here."  She leaned forward and presented one of the coils to Kate.

Kate set the book and her wine glass aside and took the coil in both hands.  It was soft... silky.  She lifted her gaze to Olivia—and their eyes locked.  The blonde's face was glowing, and her blue eyes sparkling.  Kate realized her face was also glowing, although her heart rate had returned to its normal resting state and the heat in the apartment was set at its normal 68ºF—and that thrill had rippled between her legs again.

Olivia's smile turned a little... shy.  "Uh, so... you're also interested in hojojutsu?"

Kate smiled back.  "Like I said."  Her heart rate was picking up again and she was at a loss to explain it... like her sudden interest in capturing and restraining someone... like Olivia.

"I haven't had a chance to do more than glance through the books," Olivia continued, "but the illustrations are pretty good."

Kate nodded.  She knew where this was going—she still couldn't explain how or why—but she knew.  "We're the same size.  Want to borrow a sports top and workout pants?"

The shyness was gone from Olivia's smile.  She stood and began unbuttoning her blouse.  "Underwear will work."  She nodded at the book in Kate's lap.  "We probably ought to do a little studying before trying any take-downs or captures."

Kate nodded.  "Yeah, but we can try some of these ties."  She smiled at Olivia.  "So... who goes first.  Roshambo?"

Olivia grinned.  "I prefer the rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock variation—but no.  I'm your guest."

Kate grinned back.  "Okay, you can tie me up first."

Olivia's grin morphed into a coy smile.  "I meant you should tie me up first."

Kate shrugged.  "Okay.  If you insist."  She stood and began releasing the coil of black rope.  This is weird, she thought, watching Olivia continue to undress, but it feels sooooo right!

And that pesky, anticipatory thrill was back again—in spades.

Jane and Maura were in the kitchen.  Both had showered and their hair had had time to dry—with extensive help from Maura's expensive towel collection, of course—and both had their respective raven and blond curls pulled back in ponytails.  They were dressed in robes (over panties) and nothing else.

Maura had prepared pain perdu (French toast), prosciutto cotto (ham), and coffee.  By the time Maura had finished assembling the required spices and ingredients and had worked her feat of culinary magic, breakfast had become brunch.  That said, it had been worth the wait.  The meal was almost over.

"More coffee?" Maura offered, smiling her usual dimpled smile as she lifted the still half full coffee press.

"No, I don't want more coffee," Jane muttered.  "I want answers.  I want you to finally tell me what the hell you think is going on, like you promised."

Maura smiled.  "Do you mean why you tied me up and subjected me to repeated and prolonged bouts of cunnilingus?"

"Maura!" Jane whined.  "Stop, or I'm gonna blush like this forever!"

Maura shook her head.  "That's highly unlikely.  Idiopathic craniofacial erythema is symptomatic of certain pathological conditions; however—"

"Mau-raaaaah!  Stop!"

Maura smiled.  "All right.  I believe you may have been performing an ideo-dynamic complex reaction chain."

"A what?"

"A phenomenon something like a post-hypnotic suggestion," Maura explained.  "However, I have no idea how it may have been induced."

Jane sighed. "You think I'll... uh... do it again?"

Maura's dimpled smile widened.  "Oh, I certainly hope so," she purred.

"Mau-raaaaah!"

"I consider it unlikely," Maura corrected herself.  "Although, if an induced behavior is entirely compatible with the subject's baseline personality..."

"What?" Jane demanded.

"If the subject is doing what comes naturally..."

"I swear, Maura," Jane huffed, "if you don't stop, I'll...  I'll..."  She buried her face in her hands.  "Oh, Gawd!"

Maura's smile was reassuring.  "I don't think there's any danger.  I don't think I'm in any danger."

"I'm so sorry," Jane sighed.

Maura pulled her BFF's hands away from her face.  "It's okay, Jane.  I really did experiment in my college years, and it was fun."

"I don't care about your college years," Jane huffed.

"I mean last night," Maura clarified.  "It was fun last night."

Jane's blush intensified.  "I'll take your word for it," she muttered.  "I still don't remember anything."

"C'mon," Maura said, rising from the table and carrying her plate to the sink.  "We can cleanup the kitchen later.  I still need to examine you."

Jane simply stared.  "What if I do try something else?" she asked.

Maura paused in thought.  "There is that."  She turned to Jane and winked.  "I know!  We'll take precautions."

It was early afternoon.  Kate was still in her exercise togs, but she'd washed her face, brushed her hair, and had it tied back in a ponytail.  She was comfortably slouched in an easy chair turned to face her exercise area.  Her bare feet were up on the matching hassock and her attention was on the floor show.

The show in question was Olivia Dunham.  Now divested of her outer and underwear, Olivia was hogtied on her stomach.

Kate had done her best to execute a technique illustrated in one of Olivia's books.  A harness of rope crisscrossed Special Agent Dunham's upper-body in a diamond pattern.  It pinned her upper-arms to her torso—yoked her shoulders and passing above, below, and between her breasts—bound her crossed wrists together against the small of her back—and lashed her crossed ankles together and linked them to her wrist bonds with about a foot of twice-doubled rope.  The final knot was tied high on Olivia's back between her shoulder blades.

In addition, Olivia's panties were stuffed in her mouth and one of Kate's summer scarves was keeping it there.  The long, narrow, lightweight cloth cleaved Olivia's mouth.  It was cinched tight enough to make her cheek's bulge, and was knotted under her tousled blond hair at the nape of her neck.

Kate smiled as she watched her "workout partner" and house-guest wiggle, squirm, and fight for her freedom.  The blonde's lithe, athletic, tan body was shining with sweat. Her fingers groped for the impossible-to-reach knot and fluttered against the strands of rope within their greatly restricted range.  Kate glanced at her wristwatch.  "That's a full hour," she announced.  "I don't think you're getting out of this one either."

Olivia lifted her gagged head, shook the hair from her face, and glared at her captor—or she may have been smiling.  It was difficult to tell.

Kate could feel wetness between her legs, and that thrill was now a more-or-less continuous but very low-grade presence.  She wasn't sure how much longer she could play this game, how much longer she could simply watch Olivia struggle and writhe—how much longer she could stop herself from ripping off her own clothes, rushing to the mat, and kissing Olivia's gorgeous gagged face, and perky breasts, and flat tummy, and firm thighs, and—

Brrrrr.

It was the phone.  Kat jumped from the chair and squinted at the base-station's tiny screen.  The call was from an unknown caller in Boston.  Jane?  She picked up the wireless handset and held it to her right ear.  "Hello?"

Olivia watched from the mat as Kate smiled.

"Dr. Isles," Kate said, "Jane told me so much about you."  She winked at Olivia, turned, and strolled to the far side of the loft.

Olivia sighed through her gag... then continued struggling.  How long is she gonna string this out?  How long before she... touches me?  It was frustrating—and exciting—(see also arousing).  She strained against the ropes—"Mrrrf!"—but it was hopeless.  She wasn't going anywhere, not until Kate decided to set her free.  A shudder shook Olivia's sweaty, flushed, bound body as a frisson rippled through her crotch.  A casual observer (even Kate) might have mistaken the delicate wiggle for part of Olivia's efforts to escape—but it wasn't.  Olivia was simmering in her bonds (and her juices), more than ready for the game to move on to the next level.

Kate returned, a coy smile curling her lips.  She returned the handset to the base-station, then padded to the mat and smiled down at Olivia.  "That was Maura Isles, Jane's friend," she explained (unnecessarily).  "She wanted to warn me about something called an ideo-dynamic... something.  Apparently, Jane went a little crazy and made amorous advances towards the good doctor.  Maura suspects Rupandra may have planted the rough equivalent of a post-hypnotic suggestion in Jane's mind, and is afraid she might have done the same to us."

Olivia blinked in surprise.  "Mrrf?"

Kate nodded.  "Yes, it explains a lot, doesn't it?"  She pulled her tank-top over her head and tossed it aside.  "Not to worry.  Dr. Isles says whatever mischief Rupandra might have been up to, the 'suggestion' couldn't make us do anything we might not do on our own.  It might point us in a specific direction and lower our inhibitions—"  She peeled down and stepped out of her exercise pants, leaving only her panties (and her smile).  "But that's all.  It wouldn't make us commit a crime, plot treason, or harm anyone."  She peeled off her panties and tossed them atop her other clothes.  "I know I certainly don't feel like harming anyone."  She knelt beside Olivia and rolled her onto her back, bound arms, and splayed legs.  She then straddled Olivia's waist and settled her weight—some of her weight—onto Olivia's flat tummy.  With her palms on the mat to either side of Olivia's gagged head, she leaned close and they locked eyes.  "And you're certainly not in a position to do anybody harm," she continued, "are you?"

Olivia's only answer was the twinkle in her blue eyes.  Gag aside, the question was rhetorical.

Kate turned Olivia's head to the side, untied the knot of the cleaving scarf, then turned her prisoner's head back and plucked the panties from her mouth.  "Dr. Isles tried calling you first," she said, "but your phone went to voice mail."

Olivia grinned.  "I guess I must have been tied up or something."

Kate grinned back.  "I guess."  There was a pause of a few seconds... then they kissed.

The kiss lasted a while.  Their lips smacked and tongues slid and probed.

Finally, their lips parted, Kate lifted herself away from Olivia a few inches, and they gazed into each others eyes,  Smiles on their lips, Kate's hair framing their faces, and their pointing, erect nipples not quite touching, they enjoyed the moment.

"She's right, of course," Olivia said.

"Dr. Isles?"

"Yeah," Olivia confirmed.  "We're under some sort of suggestion... or compulsion."

Kate nodded.  "Yeah...  Terrible, isn't it?"  Her tone and smile suggested the exact opposite of terror.

"Terrible," Olivia agreed.  She was also not in the least distressed.  "Neither of us would do anything like this otherwise."

"We wouldn't even think about it," Kate purred, then kissed Olivia's lips.

"And we've both got boyfriends," Olivia continued.  "I have my Peter... and you have your Rick."

Kate's smile turned slightly dubious.  "Well... after a fashion."

"A heterosexual fashion."

"Yes," Kate responded, "but there's nothing wrong with two female colleagues studying the martial arts together."  They kissed, again.

"Nothing whatsoever," Olivia agreed.

"We can make this a regular thing," Kate suggested.  "I know a shop on Dungeon Alley that sells cages that double as coffee tables.  Whenever you're in New York, you'll have a place to stay."

Olivia smiled.  "And I have a closet in my place I don't make much use of.  I can replace the door with something more solid and substantial, add a hasp and padlock, and you'll have a place to crash in Cambridge."

They kissed.  Then, Kate stuffed the panties back into Olivia's unresisting mouth and restored the cleave-gag, making it just as tight as before.  "What makes you think I'm ever letting you go back to Cambridge?" she said as she cinched the knot.  She then kissed Olivia's nipples—first the left, and then the right.

Olivia shivered and squirmed in her bonds as Kate continued kissing her way down her helpless, shining, bound body.  Her ultimate goal was obvious.  She knew Kate was teasing about keeping her as her permanent prisoner, but it was a delicious, kinky fantasy.

"If I'd known hojojutsu was this much fun," Kate purred, "I would have taken it up years ago."  She used her lips and teeth to give Olivia's dark-blond pubic curls a playful tug, then extended her tongue and dragged it along her "fellow student's" flushed, shining labia.

Olivia squeezed her eyes tightly closed and her body went rigid in Kate's inescapable bonds.  "Mrrrrrf!"

Kate continued extending five-star hospitality to her weekend house guest.

After breakfast, Maura made phone calls to alert Kate Beckett and Olivia Dunham of the possibility that Rupandra had implanted ideo-dynamic complex reaction chains in their minds.  She'd left a message on Olivia's voice-mail, but had spoken directly with Kate.  Then, she led the still embarrassed and mortified Jane back to the bedroom and asked her to remove her robe and panties so she could conduct her long-delayed examination.

Jane whined and complained, of course, but Maura didn't find it too difficult to persuade her to disrobe.  Jane owed her, big time.

Maura retrieved her medical bag—not her Medical Examiner's bag, but her physician's bag.  She took Jane's temperature with an infrared wand, then took her blood pressure and listened to her heart and lungs.  The patient's blood pressure and heart rate were slightly elevated, but that was hardly surprising.  Her face was still flushed.  Also not surprising.  Otherwise, Jane was the very picture of embarrassed and mortified health.  Maura returned the stethoscope to the bag, then examined Jane's wrists.  Satisfied they were unmarked and presented nothing abnormal, she began taking the "precautions" she'd mentioned back in the kitchen.

Jane watched as Maura wrapped her wrists in a layer of loose cotton followed by loosely stretched cotton gauze.  Then, with her hands in front, she tightened Jane's cuffs around her wrists.  Click-click-click-click-click—click-click-click-click-click.

"Maura," Jane said quietly, "you know I'd never hurt you."

"And you never have," Maura answered. She planted a light kiss on her BFF's lips.  "Not even last night."

This did not help alleviate Jane's blushing condition.

With Jane standing next to the bed, Maura began gently poking and prodding her friend's body with her fingertips.  She was very thorough.  Her fingertips slid across Jane's arms, tracing the underlying muscles.  Then, she lifted Jane's arms and examined her armpits and shoulders.

"Mau-raaah," Jane complained, squirming and shivering.

"Hold still," Maura ordered.  "I'm palpating your supratrochlear and deltoideopectoral lymph node clusters.

"It tickles," Jane whined.

"Big baby," Maura chuckled, then continued her examination.  She worked her way down Jane's body, front and back.

Jane was a little surprised her breasts and private parts received only cursory attention—surprised but relieved, of course.  She certainly wasn't disappointed.

"On your back," Maura ordered, pointing to the bed.

Jane rolled her eyes and sighed, but flopped down onto the still rumpled sheets.  She watched as Maura scampered from the bedroom.  "Maura?"

"Be right back!" Maura called over her shoulder, and was gone.

Jane sighed and stared at the ceiling, then lifted her cuffed wrists and gazed at her cuffs.  "This is super-kinky," she muttered under her breath.  It was also super-weird—possibly the weirdest thing she'd ever done in her entire life, and certainly the kinkiest—that she could remember, anyway.  But somehow... it didn't feel wrong.

Maura returned to the bedroom with a large coil of purple rope.  "Thirty meters of eight-millimeter climbing rope," she gushed, then released the coil, doubled the rope, and ran it through her hands to find the center.

"Fabulous," Jane muttered.  She watched as Maura pulled the doubled center of the rope between her cuffs, then pulled the free ends through the loop.

"This is called a lark's head or cow hitch," Maura lectured as she snugged the rope tight.

"That's wonderful, Maura," Jane huffed.  "Hey!"

Maura had lifted Jane's cuffed hands towards the headboard.  "Stay like that," she ordered.

"Gee, you're not bossy, are you?" Jane complained, but remained in position.  Meanwhile, Maura was working her way around the bed, cinching the long free ends of the rope around the legs of the bed-frame near the floor.  From atop the mattress Jane couldn't see what Maura was doing, but as usual, "Dr. Smartypants" was providing a running commentary.

"This is a clove hitch," Maura said as she knelt beside the left headboard.  "Another clove hitch," she said from the left foot of the bed.  She then moved to the right headboard.

Jane felt the ropes holding her cuffed hands centered at the head of the bed go taut.  "Let me guess.  Another clove hitch?"

"Yes, it is," Maura confirmed, then moved to the bed's right foot.  "And a fourth clove-hitch."  She then grabbed Jane's left ankle, pulled it towards the corner, and began wrapping it with rope.  "This is a rolling hitch," she explained as she tied a knot.  When she was finished, several meters of free end remained.

Jane's right ankle received similar treatment, and now she was flat on her back with her arms straight up and her legs splayed.  In other words, her nude body formed the shape of an upside-down "Y."  There was a reasonable amount of slack in her bonds, but she knew she wasn't going anywhere.  She watched as Maura retrieved her discarded panties—the borrowed pair she'd just removed, not her own pair (which had spent the night stuffed in Maura's mouth)—then strolled into the closet.  She returned almost immediately with a sheer, black nylon stocking.

Maura tied an overhand knot in the stocking, stuffed the wadded panties down the stocking, then tied a second overhand knot, converting the nylon and panties to what might be called a silky, poof-ball ball-gag.  Anyway, her intentions were obvious.

"Maura, no," Jane complained.

"Now Jane," Maura chided, "it's only fair."  She shrugged out of her robe, peeled off her panties, climbed onto the bed, straddled Jane's spreadeagled body, and settled her weight on Jane's waist.

"I'm not a horse, Maura," Jane muttered.  "Get off me."

"You're letting me do this 'cause you secretly want to," Maura said.

"What?  No!  Get off."  Jane tried bucking Maura off her body.  All she succeeded in doing was raising Maura's body a few inches before she slammed back down onto the bed.  "Ooof!"  She also imparted a wobbling oscillation to Maura's breasts.

Maura smiled her dimpled, endearing smile.  "You know I was a bit of a wild child in college," she said.  "I'm enjoying being a 'merry prankster' again."

"Merry prankster," Jane huffed.  "Did I really, uh... do a bunch of stuff to you last night?"

Maura nodded.  "You did, and I don't mind.  I'll show you later, after I take a nap."

Jane's eyes popped wide.  "A nap?  Are you shitin' me?"

Still smiling, Maura shook her head.  She leaned close and kissed Jane's lips, then eased the nylon-encased wadded panties into Jane's mouth.  She cinched the nylon bands at the nape of Jane's neck, freed her hair, and tied a square knot.  "I'm gonna show you everything you did to me.  Everything."  She kissed Jane's forehead, then rolled off Jane's body and snuggled against her left side.  "Later.  I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Jane tugged on her padded cuffs.  She was comfortable, and naked, and helpless, and Maura was naked by her side.  And, to her infinite surprise—she wasn't freaking out.  What Rupandra had done to her—whatever she'd done to her—that had make her do "stuff" to her BFF, it wasn't her fault.  And this was all in fun.  Besides, it wasn't like she could do anything to stop it.  That ship had sailed.

"I don't like using your steel cuffs," Maura muttered, "even with padding.  I'll go online and order something better."  She snuggled even closer, resting her head against Jane's left breast.  "Maybe a lot of stuff."

Merry prankster my ass, Jane mused.  At least I have an excuse.  Rupandra made me do it.

"I'm glad this happened, Jane," Maura mumbled.  "We're gonna have all kinds of fun."  She heaved a wide, cat-like yawn.  "Remind me to complete your breast and pelvic exams when I wake up."