by Van ©2010
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		Chapter 6
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Christina rose a half-hour before dawn.  She showered and dressed in a variant of her at-home uniform: panties, white cotton tank-top, denim jeans, and bare feet.  She usually wore a bra with a tank-top, but not today.  Today she wanted to look sexy, but without seeming to make the effort.  "The Girls" were still firm enough for her to not actually require a bra, and the cotton top was thin enough for her nipples to do the "pokie" thing.  She knew Polly would recognize it as a signal, but for Poor Delfina, it would be just one more ingredient in the confusing, cacophonous mix of sensations and impressions that were going to make for a very trying day.

The Mistress of Seaglass returned to her bedroom and turned on the TV.  It was still tuned to the "Delfina-in-Distress" channel.

As the sun began to rise, the image captured by the little camera hidden in the guest bedroom's ventilation duct began to improve.  Her house guest's naked, spreadeagled, and tape-gagged form filled the screen, as well as the equally naked but very much not bound and gagged body of her young protege.  Both appeared to be fast asleep.  Del was on her back with her limbs splayed, of course, and Polly was on her stomach and snuggled against Del's right side.  Her right arm was sprawled across the prisoner's tummy and her right leg across her right thigh.

Christina felt a thrill of affection.  They both are so cute!  Even though the quality was still somewhat marginal, the image on the screen took her breath away.

Polly, with her baby-oil tan and petite, deceptively strong body, with its delightful hint of baby-fat...  She was beautiful, as always.  And next to Del's toned, taller form, the contrast was both delicious and complementary.

Delfina was gorgeous in her own right, of course.  Her silky brown hair, darker complexion, and feminine, athletic physique made for a stunning damsel.

But why settle for a slightly grainy, slightly out of focus image, Christina mused, when I can enjoy the real thing?  She tapped the remote and the screen went dark.  She then exited her bedroom and padded down the hall to the guestroom.  The door was closed.

Christina turned the knob, eased the door open—creeeak—then tiptoed to the foot of the bed, and sighed.  Both occupants were still asleep, their positions unchanged.  Smooth skin, exquisite curves, limbs in perfect proportion to their stunning bodies, faces relaxed in slumber... truly a feast for the eyes.

Delfina's full breasts—hourglass waist—the cute little "innie" bellybutton tucked into her firm tummy—her dark, curly, neatly trimmed bush—the crinkled, pink, curtain folds of her pussy...  Simply gorgeous.

And Polly—the exquisite youngster that Chris knew so very well.  She focused on the sinuous curve of the tiny blonde's back, her firm fanny, her equally firm thighs, and the tiny, distinct line that defined the border between each butt-cheek and its corresponding thigh.  One of the mysteries of the English language, Christina reflected, that little line that marks the transition... There's no furrow or crease or fold.  It's just the firm globe of the butt instantly becoming firm, tapering thigh.  Magic...  Beautiful... And it has no name.  Of course, she could dig out her copy of Grey's Anatomy and figure out how to fabricate a Latin description of the phenomenon—but in all the history of the Queen's Language, no one had ever felt the need to create a unique term for such a precious, ubiquitous treasure?  Christine shook her head.  Criminal negligence.

Just then, Christina noticed Polly's eyes.  The playful, blue orbs were open and focused on her, and a smile curled the little scamp's perfect, pink lips.  Christina smiled back, then winked, and cleared her throat.  "Ahem!  What's the meaning of this?" Christina demanded, affecting an angry scowl.

Polly scrambled off the bed and stared at Christina, her eyes wide with fear.

What a little actress, Christina marveled, careful to control the smile struggling to leak past her frown.  "Did I tell you you could play with Delfina?"

"No-uh-no, Mistress," Polly stammered.

"Position one," Christina ordered.

Polly went down on her knees, put her hands atop her head, and dropped her gaze to the floor.

By this time Del was fully awake, of course.  At first, she had tugged on her bonds in panic—but now she was frozen in her rope-enforced spread-eagle.  She turned her tape-gagged head from Christina to Polly as she followed the exchange, her eyes as wide and frightened as Polly's.

Christina pulled a straight chair away from the wall and carried it to the center of the bedroom, then planted it on the carpet, facing the foot of the bed.  She sat and motioned to Polly.  "Get your disobedient little ass over here," she ordered, "so I can spank it."

Polly swallowed, climbed to her feet, and scampered to Christina's side.

"Down!" Christina ordered, and Polly settled herself across her lap, fanny up and tummy down.  Her fingers remained interlaced in her tousled blond locks, and her legs were extended full-length, with her ankles crossed and her pointing toes just touching the floor.

"You know the drill," Christina growled, and landed a stinging slap on Polly's left butt-cheek.  Whack!

"One!" Polly gasped.

Whack!

"Two!"

The ritual continued until a total of six blows had landed, three on each cheek.

"You are a very bad girl to make me punish you," Christina sighed, and gently massaged Polly's pink, flushed buttocks.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," Polly sobbed.  "Oh!"  Christina's hand was between her buttocks, sliding against the shivering little blonde's labia.

"What are you?" Christina asked.

"I'm your slave, Mistress," Polly gasped.

"Do you deserve to cum, slave?"

"N-no, Mistress," Polly whispered.

"No, you certainly don't," Christina agreed, continuing to massage her naked slave's pussy.  "You knew you didn't have permission to play with Delfina, but you sneaked in here and did it anyway, didn't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Christina locked eyes with Delfina, and continued.  "And you've been warned about playing with Mistress' toys without permission, haven't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."  Polly's rump was grinding against Christina's hand.

"Perhaps I should lock you in that nasty German chastity belt I bought for you last Christmas," Christina purred, "and starve your hungry pussy for a week."

"P-please, Mistress!" Polly gasped.

"What did you say?" Christina demanded.

"W-whatever pleases Mistress!" Polly whined.

"Don't you dare cum, you little vixen," Christina growled.  "You're being punished."

"Please, Mistress," Polly begged.  "I-I c-can't help it!  P-please, Mistress!"

Christina pulled her hand from between Polly's thighs and dumped the naked blonde off her lap.

Polly caught herself and rolled, then scrambled to her feet and put her hands atop her head, again.  Her bosom heaved and her nipples were pointing.  A sheen of sweat glistened on her angelic face and her blue eyes were wet as she gazed at the floor.

Christina lifted Polly's chin and kissed her lips.

Delfina watched as the kiss turned into a lip-sucking, tongue-rolling, very wet display of mutual affection.  She tugged on her still inescapable bonds and blinked in surprise.  They're a couple, she realized, then mentally kicked herself.  Of course they are, you idiot.  You already knew that.  Delfina felt like a gullible fool—gullible enough to acquiesce in her own "kidnapping", anyway—but she wasn't stupid.  Of course, she had been a little distracted of late (to put it mildly).  So... she had an excuse.  Del tugged on her wrist bonds, for the millionth time since they'd been tied by "Mistress".

The kiss ended, and Christina gave her "Slave" a playful smack on her still pink rump.

"Ow!" Polly complained, favoring her "Mistress" with a resentful pout.

"Go get a pair of cuffs," she ordered.

"Leather or steel?" Polly asked.  Her smile had returned.

"The hinged Smith and Wessons," Christina clarified.  The grinning Mistress strolled to the bed as Polly scampered from the room.  She smiled down at Delfina's spreadeagled, nude, beautiful body, then lifted her gaze to her "Kidnap Victim's" tape-gagged face.

Delfina gazed back.  She was a little scared, but the butterflies in her stomach were competing with a thrill that was quivering through her pussy.  Christina looked so hot.  Scary—but hot.

Christina sat on the bed and placed her right hand on Delfina's stomach.  Her smile broadened when the nude, spreadeagled captive flinched.  "I apologize for whatever liberties Polly might have taken during the night," she said, "but then, it's nothing really new for you, is it, Del?"

Delfina's eyes widened.  What?

"I know all about your weekend in the Bahamas with Faith," Christina purred, slowly sliding her hand back and forth across Delfina's smooth, firm tummy.

Delfina blushed, and pulled on her wrist bonds.  It was a little fun, a few shared meals, the proverbial basking in the sun and frolicking in the surf—and nothing more!  Okay, there was a little frolicking between the sheets, at night—but it hadn't been anything serious!

"Don't have kittens," Christina chuckled.  "I know nothing came of it after you both got back to the city."  She leaned close and kissed Delfina's tape-gagged lips.  "Faith shared that part of the story, too.  Poor Faith.  It was cruel of you to toy with her affections."

Delfina was still blushing.  She shook her head and tugged on her bonds.

"I'm only kidding," Christina laughed, then stood and smiled down at the captive, again.  "Now, I suppose you'd like to be untied and use the bathroom, then have some breakfast?"

Delfina sighed, and nodded her head.  Finally!

Christina's smile became somewhat... disturbing.  "Well, I'm afraid the answer is no to all that, at least in the way you're thinking.  You've been kidnapped, remember?"

Just then, Polly returned.  She'd taken the time to don a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.  A broad, dimpled grin on her pixie face, she held up a pair of chrome-steel, hinged handcuffs and gave them a playful shake.

Delfina still couldn't believe what they were doing to her!

She was untied, but her kidnappers—Del was finding it increasingly easy to accept her predicament as real—her kidnappers maintained complete control of the situation—which very much included Delfina Shaw!

The ropes were untied one-at-a-time, but as each leg was freed it was immediately re-secured, and the cuffs weren't just for show.  By the end of the process, Delfina's ankles were hobbled about nine inches apart, captured by a dozen turns of white, nylon rope, and her wrists were locked behind her back in the hinged handcuffs.  The single, wide strip of Elastoplast remained stretched across her mouth, as effectively sealing her lips as it had from the moment it was applied.

Del had resisted, and she mewled through her gag and made it abundantly clear she'd like the "game" to be over, but her captors worked in concert to defeat her resistance, and pointedly ignored her attempts to communicate.

That last part wasn't quite true.  Delfina could tell Christina knew she was unhappy, and the smiling brunette was simply dismissing her distress, as if Del was a house cat in need of a bath that did not want to participate.  Polly, on the other hand, was enjoying Del's displeasure.  It was infuriating!  Christina was treating her like a pet and Polly was being a bullying brat!

Her bonds changed, and with Polly maintaining a controlling hand in her tangled hair, Del was led into the bathroom and planted on the toilet.

"Do your business, Del," Christina had ordered, still smiling her infuriating, condescending smile.

Del shook her head and forced an emphatic "Nrrf!" through her gag.

Christina's smile faded.  "Polly," she said, "fetch the crop for Mistress, would you please?"

Polly's smile faded, and she turned and headed out the bathroom door.  "Yes, Mistress."

Christina chuckled.  "Wait," she said, and Polly paused in the threshold.  "It's not for you, Little Bit.  Not even as a demonstration."

Polly blushed, and her smile returned.  "Yes, Mistress," she responded, and hurried away.

Christina chuckled.  Polly was doing an excellent job, playing her part.  Of course, the Mistress of Seaglass reflected, pretending to be my slave isn't exactly a stretch for the little rascal.  She turned back to face her prisoner.  "It's twenty-five inches from end to end," she explained, "and has a three-inch tip.  It's nice and springy, with just the required stiffness for easy control."  She stepped forward and used her fingers to comb a few long, errant strands of brown hair from Delfina's face.  "I'm talking about my crop, of course.  Polly really hates it.  I suppose I did get a little carried away the week it arrived in the mail, but I've managed to control myself since... for the most part.  Anyway..."

Delfina watched as Christina fetched a makeup mirror.  Her hostess was doing an incredible impersonation of the top half of a BDSM couple, just as Polly was doing a good job as the bottom.  Please let them be pretending, Del thought, at least with respect to me.

Christina held the mirror before Delfina's face.  "I promised you a good look at that gag," she purred.

Delfina stared at her reflection.  The Elastoplast was like a layer of foam, two or three millimeters thick, at least twice as thick as "normal" tape.  It clung to her skin, following the curves of her lips and mouth.  Its color was a pinkish tan that was generally called "flesh-tone", but Del knew that if her flesh actually was that color, she'd probably be considered a freak.

Christina returned the mirror to the shelf, then returned with a hairbrush.  She stood to Delfina's right and began brushing the prisoner's hair.  "I know exploring the Brave Resistance aspect of the Kidnap Victim dynamic is invigorating, but rest assured, I will have my way."

Just then, Polly returned with the ordered crop.  She presented the slender, elegant rod of braided, black leather to her Mistress, handle first.

"Keep it, Little Bit," Christina purred, smiling at Delfina.  "I'm going to start breakfast."  She returned the brush to the shelf.  "You know what I want done with the Billionaire's Daughter," she said as she headed for the door.

Delfina watched Christina leave the bathroom, then focused on her other kidnapper.  The little blonde gazed back with a cute, dimpled expression that sent a chill rippling down Delfina's spine.

Polly stepped forward and slowly waved the tip of the crop before Delfina's horrified face.  "It really stings," Polly explained, "especially on the boobs and nipples."  She continued waving the tip.  "And the pussy.  It really hurts to have your pussy whacked with this thing, believe me."  She lowered the tip and let the end of the three-inch tip rest on Delfina's right nipple.  "Number one and number two, Del.  Do your business."

Delfina swallowed behind her gag, blinked, and nodded.

It had been supremely humiliating (and a little difficult with an audience), but Delfina had managed to carry out her orders and "do her business".  Polly then used a damp washcloth to make her "spanking clean"  (Ha-ha, Polly.  Very funny.)  This was also humiliating.

Finally, Delfina was led from the bathroom, down the stairs, and into Christina's office.  Polly had the crop in her left hand and a fistful of Del's hair in her right, so the captive had no choice but to stumble along as quickly as her hobbled feet would allow.

They came to the post in the center of the space and Del was alarmed to see a dozen or more large, neat bundles of white nylon rope scattered on the floor at its base.  Polly spun her around, placed a hand on her stomach, and pushed her against the square, six-by-six timber.

"Stay!" Polly ordered, and picked up one of the coils of rope.

Delfina considered trying to make a "run" for it, but her hobble rendered the effort entirely pointless, to say the least.  Also, while Del was sure Polly was only pretending to be a Cruel Villainess, maybe she was wrong.  Maybe Polly was just itching for an excuse to use the crop still dangling from her left wrist.  Del wasn't all that anxious to find out.  She stood perfectly still as a dozen doubled loops of rope tightened around her throat and the post.  Polly didn't make the bands especially tight, but they were definitely there.  Del squirmed in place, and was grateful that long ago the edges of the post had been rounded and sanded smooth and several coats of varnish applied.

Next, Polly pulled Del's joined hands to one side and fitted a key into the right cuff.  The cuff fell away, and Polly stepped behind the post.  The cuffs, and therefore Del's left wrist, were still in her hand.  "Give me your right hand, Del," Polly ordered.

"Nu-huh!" Delfina mumbled through her gag, shaking her head as much as the rope bands around her throat would allow.  Her right arm was completely free for the first time in hours—Ow!—but Polly had her left thumb in some sort of hold and was giving it a warning twist.

"Don't make me hurt you," Polly whispered in Delfina's ear.  "I want us to be friends."

Friends!  Hah!  Delfina sighed... and reached behind the post with her right hand.  The hard steel closed around her right wrist and ratcheted tight—click-click-click—and she sighed, again.

"Good girl," Polly chuckled.  "I'm double-locking them, this time, so you can struggle all you want and they won't tighten any more."

They don't need to tighten any more, Delfina thought.  They're plenty tight.

Polly then stepped to the front, faced her prisoner, and smiled.  "Now, let's make you a little more secure."  She pulled the loop of the crop's handle from her wrist, tossed it onto Christina's desk, then stooped and picked up a distressingly large coil of rope.

Over the next half-hour, Polly tied Delfina to the post—an understatement if ever there was one.

Neat, carefully compact bands of the white, nylon rope tightened around Delfina's legs, above and below her knees, across her shins, and across her thighs.  Then, her hobble was untied and re-tied, this time with her feet close together.  In each case, six or eight doubled strands were carefully, neatly formed into tight rows.  Initially, they were somewhat loose, but as a final step, Polly cinched the bands between Del's legs and between her legs and the post.  The final result was tight, indeed, with the braided, shiny rope dimpling her tan skin.

More rope tightened around her waist and the post, and then her elbows.  With her elbows, a dozen doubled loops were tied, linking her upper arms, and then cinched between her arms.  Next, bands were tied above and below her breasts and cinched between her body and the post, under her arms.  Additional strands passed under the chest ropes, between her arms and torso and behind the post, and were used to yoke her shoulders and pull them back, snugging her upper body bonds even tighter and pressing her spine against the hard wood.

The rope around Del's throat was untied and dropped on the floor, and Polly picked up yet another large coil of rope.

"That's right," she purred, smiling at her captive. "I'm not finished."

This time, a crisscross of single strands was tied around Delfina and the post, from shoulders to ankles.  The ropes were hitched and cinched behind the post, and from the front presented a neat "X" pattern down Delfina's entire body.

"Now I'm finished," Polly chuckled.

"Brava, Little Bit," Christina announced from the doorway.

"Thank you, Mistress," Polly replied, and executed a graceful curtsy.

Christina had an insulated cup with a protruding straw in her hand.  "Bacon and eggs are laid out in the kitchen.  Scoot along and start cooking."

"She Who Must Be Obeyed has spoken," Polly said sotto voce to Delfina, then winked and headed for the door.

Christina slapped her on the rump as she passed.  "Little scamp," she chuckled.

Polly giggled and was gone.

Christina stepped in front of Delfina and looked her up and down, a coy smile curling her lips.  "Yes, Polly's rope skills are coming along nicely."  She held up the cup.  "A breakfast shake," she explained, "for you."  She reached for the edge of Del's tape-gag, then paused.  "You're aren't going to make some sort of hysterical display, are you?" she purred.

Delfina sighed, then shook her head.

"Brace yourself," Christina said, teased back a corner of the tape, then peeled it off.  The Elastoplast surrendered its grip with great reluctance, stretching Del's lips and face as it came away.

"M'mm—ahh!" Delfina complained.  She cleared her throat and glared at Christina.  "Look, I've had just about enough of this—Mrrf!"

Christina had a hand over Delfina's mouth, and an infuriatingly smug smile on her angelic face.  "My definition of 'hysterical display' includes being a Grumpy Gus."

Del continued glaring at her kidnapper above the tight hand-gag.

"I imagine you're somewhat thirsty," Christina purred, "having made love to my Polly for most of the night."

Delfina was thirsty.  She sighed, and nodded her head.  She could be a "Grumpy Gus" after drinking the shake.

"Vanilla," Christina chuckled, removed her hand and placed the end of the straw between Del's pouting lips.

Del sucked on the straw, and the cool, creamy shake flooded her parched mouth.  Ahhh! she sighed, and continued sucking and swallowing.

Christina smiled and held the cup, reaching out with her free hand to comb the hair from Delfina's face.

Delfina sucked and swallowed, her eyes locked with her grinning kidnapper.  Eventually, she sucked air—schrrrrp.  She'd reached the bottom.

Christina carried the cup to her desk, then opened a desk drawer.

"Look, Christina," Delfina huffed, twisting her body against the web of rope pinning her to the post.  "Enough is enough!  I don't want to play this stupid game anymore.  Untie me and—oh!"

Christina had closed the desk drawer and was returning to the post.  In one hand she held a red ball pierced by a black leather strap.  "Medical silicon, two-inch diameter," Christina said, indicating the ball.  She then presented the strap.  "And a locking buckle.  Only the best for our 'Billionaire's Daughter'."

"Christina, please," Delfina whispered.  It embarrassed her to sink to begging, but enough was enough!

"Open. Del," Christina ordered, holding the ball before her mouth.

"No!" Delfina turned her head away and strained against the ropes.

"Silly girl," Christina chuckled.  She grabbed a handful of Delfina's hair with her free hand and gave her head a quick jerk back, then thrust the red ball in her mouth with the other.

"Ow—Mrrrfh!"

"Yes, I know it's big," Christina said, "but all the better to keep you quiet, my dear."

Delfina felt the strap tighten until it pressed into her cheeks and the nape of her neck.  The ball was, indeed, big—as in very big—as in filling-her-mouth-to-capacity big!  "M'mmfh!"  Now the buckle was closing, followed by the click of what she assumed was a small padlock.

"There," Christina purred.  "I'm sorry you made me hurt you, but that's how a kidnapper would handle an uncooperative victim, isn't it?"  She pulled free the tangled strands of Delfina's hair trapped under the strap, then took a step back.  "A perfect fit," she gloated.

Delfina shook her head, worked her jaw, pushed with her tongue, and tried to dislodge the ball.  Fat chance.  She could barely flex her jaw, and her tongue was pressed more-or-less flat.  "Nrrrfh!  The padlock rattled and bounced against the buckle as she turned her head.

"Your third gag," Christina said.  "Ball-gags are interesting, don't you think?  Scarves, handkerchiefs, duct-tape, any kind of tape...  All have a thousand and one uses.  But a ball-gag?"  She stepped forward and used her right index finger to trace a slow orbit around the glistening surface of the red ball and Del's stretched lips.  "A ball-gag is made for a single purpose, to silence a helpless captive, and it's useless for anything else.  Interesting."

Delfina shivered in her bonds and tugged on the cuffs binding her wrists.  The steel was hard, but the edges didn't cut into her skin.  The yard upon yard of white nylon rope squeezing her naked body against the post didn't allow the leverage required for her to really twist and pull on the cuffs.  Just as well, she reasoned.  I won't be getting out of them, no matter what.  And I'll only hurt myself if I really struggle.  Just as well.

"Well," Christina said, smiling sweetly, "you've had your breakfast, and now it's time for Polly and her Mistress to have theirs."  She turned and walked towards the door.

"Mrrrpfh!" Delfina screamed through her gag.  Christina didn't even turn around.  She crossed the threshold—and was gone.  "Nrrrf!"  The volume of Del's protest was as well-contained as before, but the whining, mournful quality of the garbled noise was crystal clear, at least to Del's ears.  She struggled against the bonds, again, but it was hopeless.  She wasn't going to pull a Houdini with the handcuffs, and Polly's rope web was as tight and inescapable as ever.  The ball-gag filled her mouth, and the strap was tight... and padlocked.

Delfina's eyes were welling, but she suppressed the despair rising to dominate her emotions.  She was kidnapped, and she'd let herself be kidnapped.  Might as well learn from it, she reasoned.  She didn't really believe Christina and Polly were a pair of sadists, or that they weren't going to let her go—she hoped!  All she could do was wait.

She lowered her head and looked down her bound body.  Polly's neat, multiple bands and the crisscross of single strands pressed into her tan flesh.  She couldn't see all of it, of course.  The ropes held her spine, butt, the back of her thighs, and her calves close against the post, and her breasts blocked much of her view of what was below.  She could see her wiggling toes, but that was about it.

Delfina sighed and stared out the window at the dunes, the beach, the water, and the horizon.  The sun was fully up, of course, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  A perfect day for the beach... if you didn't happen to be tied to a post.  She could see a flock of shorebirds foraging at the surf line.  The distance was too great for her to determine the variety, but they were light brown, and bobbed their heads as they probed the wet sand with their long bills.  Sandpipers, she decided.  Some species of sandpiper.

Laughter and the sound of rattling plates drifted in from the kitchen, as well as the smell of fried bacon.  Her kidnappers were enjoying their breakfast.  They had seen to the basic needs of their kidnapped victim, and now they were seeing to their needs.

Why not, Delfina sighed, I'm not going anywhere.