To see the actresses the author would cast in a THOMASINA CROWN motion picture,
please follow the link below, and use your browser's "Back" feature to return.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

SOMEWHERE IN THE PINE BARRENS
NEW JERSEY, USA

---

Sally hefted the box of groceries out of the back of the van and carried it into the cabin.  She deposited it on the kitchen table, then turned and examined her prisoner's bonds with a critical eye.  Andrea's around-the-head tape-gag was still intact, her hands and feet were still tape-bound, and the rope Sally had used to lash her to the chair was still taut and secure.  The petite redhead was staring at her equally petite blond captor with only slightly amused boredom.  I guess whatever she finds so damn funny about being kidnapped has started to fade, Sally decided, then returned to the van, turned the key, and drove to the back of the nearby barn.  She made sure the van was locked, then walked back to the cabin.

'Cabin' was a bit of a misnomer.  Sally's hideout was an elderly (but weathertight) farmhouse.  It was owned by Sally's uncle, but he now lived in Indiana and visited no more than once a year, usually during hunting season.  Sally had been vacationing here since she was a kid, and now Katherine and she came here when they wanted to escape the city.  As far as Sally could remember there were no references to the "Jersey cabin" back in the loft.  No postcards, no letters, certainly no bills, nothing on any of the hard drives... only a couple of vacation-type photos in frames, with no geographic clues.  She was probably safe here... for a few days anyway.

Sally reentered the cabin and made a quick inspection tour.  No sign of animal damage.  Power and water worked.  The toilet flushed so the septic was okay.  She made the bed in the "master bedroom" (the only bedroom)... and yawned.  The place was dusty, but that could wait.  She returned to the kitchen and stood before her prisoner.  Blue eyes locked with green for several seconds... then Sally pulled out a pocket knife and carefully peeled back the edge of the tape swathing Andrea's lower face and began ripping back the layers.  Very little of the captive's hair was trapped and most of that came free from the gaffer's tape with a little gentle effort, so only a few copper-red strands had to be sacrificed.  Finally the tape was gone and Sally helped the prisoner expel the bandana stuffed in her mouth.

Sally went to the sink, rinsed the bandana, and draped the light olive cotton square over the towel rack to dry.  She then let the water run for several seconds, filled a juice glass, and returned to her captive.  She held the glass for the pretty redhead, and watched as she carefully tilted her head back and drank.  "More?"  Sally asked.

"No, thank you," Andrea answered, smiling up at her blond captor.

"The water's pretty terrible around here... but you get used to it."

Andrea nodded.

"Let's get something straight," Sally muttered, and Andrea nodded again (still smiling).  "I'm going to get my friend back, no matter what it takes."

"No matter what?"  Andrea wiggled in her bonds, the coy smile never leaving her face.

Sally glared at her for prisoner for several seconds... then stamped her foot in frustration.  "Okay, okay, I admit it; I wouldn't hurt a fly and you're in no danger whatsoever... but you're staying tied up 'til I get Katherine back... or until I hear from her... in case Crown didn't get her."

Andrea laughed and shook her head, trying to toss an errant red curl from her face.  "Oh, Thomasina has her.  Bet on it.   Lara Croft couldn't have escaped the trap waiting for your partner."

Sally stared at Andrea's beautiful face and tried to get angry.   Be hard, she admonished herself.   Katherine needs you to be hard... but it was pointless.

Andrea seemed to sense her captor's inner struggle.  "They won't hurt her.  Helena will try to scare her a little, especially since you got away with me, but they won't hurt her."

"Helena?"

"The one that grabbed you at the party," Andrea explained.

Sally nodded.  "Oh, yeah, 'U-89.'  And who was her blond helper?  The Sheena wannabe?"

"That would be Kimber.  She's a sweetie.  Not at all like Helena.  So... 'Peter Pan' recognizes 'U-89'... Hmm..."  The redhead smiled as Sally blushed prettily.  "I told Kimber she should go as 'Gwendoline,' so they'd match.  Her exact response, as I recall, was 'not on your freakin' life!'  She was afraid she'd spend the party lashed to one of the trees in the conservatory."

Sally nodded, still blushing, then tried again to assert an air of menace.  "They better not hurt her."

"Kimber?"

"Katherine!" Sallly responded, crossing her arms across chest.

"They won't hurt your Katherine," Andrea said, the coy smile back on her angelic, freckled face.

"Okay then," Sally growled.

"Okay."

"Okay."  

Andrea stretched in her bonds.  "What now?  I'll have to use the potty sometime.  Not this instant, but sometime.  I assume you'll help me?"

Sally didn't answer right away, but stood, arms crossed, frowning in thought (and still blushing).  "Hmm... dinner... and then I guess we get ready for bed," she said finally.  "And yes, I'll help you relieve yourself.  Tomorrow I'll have to figure out how to arrange a prisoner swap."

MEANWHILE... BACK IN THE BIG APPLE

---

They'd come for her after her third orgasm, after she was exhausted to the point that lifting herself off the chair seat and thus silencing the buzzing dildo lodged in her sex was no longer possible.  Katherine sat in her bonds, the vinyl-clad plasti-cuffs holding her ankles together and her wrists behind her back (and the chair).  She'd long since given up testing the coils of tight black rope hitched and looped around her body, from her thumbs to her elbows, shoulders, torso, thighs, calves, and big toes.  Anchored to the back of the chair by her thumbs and to the concrete floor by her toes, she couldn't even fall off the chair.  She let her head slump forward and mewed sadly through the sponge packed in her mouth and the elastic bandage swaddling her lower face... and tried to ignore the shaft merrily vibrating and squirming in her most intimate person.

The door to the cell opened and Helena and the "Jungle Girl" were there.  The striking blonde was in a sky blue, one-piece swimsuit, and Helena was in the same black boots, tights, and sports top.  They untied the knots linking Katherine's thumbs to the chair and her toes to the floor, completely untied the remaining rope binding the captive's nude body, then extracted the hated dildo from her well-lubricated vagina.  The blonde picked Katherine up (carrying her like a bound and gagged bride), and they left the tiny cell with Helena in the lead and the Jungle Girl with her burden following.  Katherine's skin was slick with sweat, her hair a damp, tangled mess.  She stared into the blonde's blue eyes and mewed weakly.

The Jungle Girl smiled down at her.  "We'll get you cleaned up a little," she whispered, "and put you someplace a little more comfortable... so you can get some sleep."  

They entered an elevator and Katherine closed her eyes.   Good cop and bad cop, she thought.   'U-89' wields the stick, and 'Jungle Girl' provides the carrot.  Been there, done that... and it works... sort of.  

The elevator door opened... and Katherine heard water lapping and smelled chlorine.  She opened her eyes and beheld a luxurious indoor pool.  Without preamble or warning the Jungle Girl carried Katherine to the side—and jumped in!  The cold water closed over their heads.  Katherine squirmed and struggled... then their heads broke the surface.  Katherine shook her head and mewed a complaint through her gag.  The Jungle Girl smiled and used one hand to pull strands of wet hair from the captive's angry face.

Make that bad cop and worse cop, Katherine fumed.

Easily keeping Katherine's gagged head above the water in a tight rescue hold, the Jungle Girl paddled the length of the pool, then carried the prisoner up the steps at the shallow end.  She stood Katherine on her feet and her raven-haired companion toweled Katherine down with brisk strokes.  Helena then tossed the towel to Jungle Girl, picked up the still damp (but no longer dripping) Katherine, and carried her back along the pool-side towards the deep end.

She's not gonna toss me back in the water, is she? Katherine wondered.  Instead, Helena carried the captive through a doorway, down a circular staircase, through a solid steel door, and into a small, very unusual room. Its far wall was one huge, thick pane of glass, and through it Katherine could see the water of the pool.  The ceiling, floor, and walls of the room were tiled, an incredible mosaic in ancient Minoan style.  Fish, dolphins, octopi, and other undersea creatures cavorted with naked swimming women.  The three non-glass walls were lined with low, very wide, tiled benches, well-padded with thick cushions and piles of pillows.

Helena tossed Katherine onto the left bench, then rolled her onto her stomach.  The prisoner felt something tighten around her waist and being linked to her flexi-cuffed wrists.  It was a vinyl-clad cable tie, snug but not punishlingly tight.  Ankles together, wrists pinned to the small of her back, tightly gagged, Katherine was... as ever... as from the moment of her capture... helpless.  She lay on her side and glared at Helena, shaking her tangled hair from her face.

Just then the Jungle Girl joined them.  She was still damp, her short blond hair slicked straight back and her near transparent suit clinging to her body like paint.  A light blanket was rolled and tucked under her right arm.  The swimsuit-clad blonde climbed onto the bench and settled herself behind Katherine, her long, tan legs to either side of the captive.

Katherine flinched when she felt something tugging on her hair, then relaxed when she realized Jungle Girl was carefully, gently pulling a comb through the still damp tresses.  Next, with sure, deft fingers, the unseen blonde braided Katherine's hair.  Helena watched this process, a gloating smile on her thin lips.  Katherine glared up at her, glad to have her hair out of her face, but determined to maintain a defiant front.  Helena reached behind her own head, pulled the rubber band from her ponytail, shook out her hair, and handed the tiny black band to Jungle Girl.  Katherine felt it being snapped around the end of her single long pigtail.  Helena turned and left the room.

Katherine felt Jungle Girl's fingers tugging at the velcro strap securing her gag.  It ripped free and the blonde began unwinding the wet elastic bandage from around Katherine's face.  Finally the last strip fell away and she helped Katherine expel the sponge from her mouth.  Katherine licked her lips, turned her head to the side, and was pleased to find a cold bottle of spring water being held by her benefactor.  She drank and drank, until the bottle was half empty.  "Thank you," Katherine whispered.

"You're welcome," the blonde answered.  "My name is Kimber... and yours is Katherine, I believe."

"Yes... Katherine."

Kimber slid forward and snuggled close to the bound captive.  Katherine still couldn't see her face.  "Helena was very cruel to you.  Wasn't she, Katherine?"  The water was offered again and Katherine drank, but didn't answer or even acknowledge Kimber's question.  "Well..." the blonde continued.  "There's a reason for her attitude.  You see, your little friend... Sally?"  Katherine still refused to speak, staring angrily at the far wall.

Kimber sighed, clamped her left hand over Katherine's mouth (eliciting a startled "Urk!"), snuggled even closer, and used her right hand to explore Katherine's breasts and stomach.  "And speaking of attitude," Kimber whispered.  She nibbled Katherine's right ear lobe, then thrust her hot, wet tongue into the shivering captive's ear.  "When I ask you a polite question..." She thrust her hand between Katherine's thighs and parted her labia.  "...I expect a polite answer."  Katherine bucked in Kimber's grasp, and shuddered.  "Understand?"

Kimber released her hand-gag, but her fingers remained in Katherine's sex.  "I... yes, I understand," the prisoner gasped.

Kimber slid her hand out of Katherine's sex, and began exploring the captive's thighs and abdomen.  Her other hand gently squeezed Katherine's right breast.  "Your partner's name is Sally?"

"Yes," Katherine gasped, blushing in humiliation.  "Sally."  (Her partner's name was public record.  She wasn't telling the blonde anything she didn't already know).

Kimber's left hand slid along Katherine's left flank.  Her right hand teased Katherine's right nipple.  "Well... Sally's been a naughty girl.  She's kidnapped a friend of ours."

"Kidnapped?  Who?"

Kimber's right hand darted to Katherine's lips and she tapped the side of her index finger against the captive's lips.  "Shh...  That's not for you to know... not yet.  Anyway, it wasn't supposed to happen.  Both you and your perky little blond protégé were supposed to be our guests tonight.  Helena hates it when the unexpected happens.  It makes her... cranky."

"Cranky?" Katherine muttered.  "She's a sadistic bitch who—m'mmpfh!"

The hand-gag was back over Katherine's lips.  "I guess she's not the only one around here in a petulant mood," Kimber purred.  "Maybe a few hours sleep will make you less cranky.  Now... I'm going to tape your lips.  If you cooperate, you'll be relatively comfortable.  If you fight, the sponge goes back in your mouth, and then the tape goes on... a lot of tape, and tight.  Then the end of your braid will be cable-tied to your big toes, and that's how you'll spend the rest of the night.  Your option."  Katherine released her hand-gag.

"I'll be good," Katherine sighed.  A long, wide strip of silver tape appeared before her face, she pursed her lips, the sticky rectangle was tacked in place, and Kimber's strong fingers pressed it smooth.  Two more strips followed... and once again Katherine's lips were sealed.

"Your friend Sally wouldn't hurt our friend, would she?" Kimber asked, and Katherine shook her tape-gagged head.  "You better hope and pray that's true... because if it's not... Helena's attitude will be the least of your problems."  The blonde climbed off the bench and Katherine could finally see her face... and the still damp suit glued to her perfect physique.

She's beautiful, Katherine thought.

Kimber fluffed a pillow and helped Katherine recline on the cushion on her side.  She then shook out the blanket and draped it over the prisoner's nude body.  "Try not to worry," the blonde said, then shook her head and laughed softly.  She walked to the door, taking with her the comb, roll of tape, remaining water, and the makings of Katherine's former gag.  "Who am I kidding," she said with a chuckle as she turned off the overhead light.  "Worry all you want, Katherine Banning.  Your pretty little ass is ours!"

A key clicked in the door's lock, and Katherine was alone.  The rippling, aqua light flickered eerily on the surrounding walls, lending an air of  menace to the ancient marine mosaic... then the lights in the main pool room clicked out, and Katherine was in total darkness.  She lay in her bonds and closed her eyes, exhausted, helpless... and proud.  Way to go Krippendorf!!!

MEANWHILE... BACK IN NEW JERSEY

---

Dinner had been quick, light, and forgettable; a can of chunky soup shared between kidnapper and kidnapee.  Then Sally had slowly, methodically replaced Andrea's bonds.  First she peeled the redhead's leather coat from her shoulders (revealing a pair of smooth, freckled shoulders, and a light olive sports top.  She yoked Andrea's shoulders with a length of cotton clothesline, dropped several neat bands around her arms and torso, some above her breasts and some below, then hitched the bands between torso and arms, pinning Andrea's arms to her sides and elbows together (tightly so, but not too uncomfortably).  She then cut and peeled the tape from Andrea's hands and wrists; pulled the coat the rest of the way off; and tied her wrists with more cotton rope (crossed behind her back, the final knots tied high among the elbow bonds, as Katherine had taught her).   Katherine!  Next, she slit the tape binding Andrea's ankles, and helped her use the bathroom.

The visit was quick and business-like, and Sally learned three things about her captive:  Andrea was wearing very high-cut bikini briefs (white cotton) under her light olive tights; Andrea was a natural redhead (not that there was ever any question, what with her Celtic coloring and all); and her tolerance for intimate exposure and contact without showing the slightest trace of embarrassment was very high.

Sally led Andrea to the bed, pulled back the quilt and top sheet, and indicated the so far cooperative captive should sit.  She then unlaced and removed the smiling redhead's Doc Martins and wool socks (being careful not to give the prisoner an opportunity to deliver a meaningful kick), then bound her ankles together with more rope.  She made the initial windings loose, then tightened things down with several fraps between the still smiling prisoner's legs.  (That way Andrea's ankle bones wouldn't grind together when she moved.  Sally knew from bitter experience that that hurt like the devil, especially after several hours.)  Next, she lay Andrea back on the bed, looped a lark's head through her ankle bonds, and tied each free end to a different side of the footboard, near the floor.  She left sufficient slack for the captive to roll a little in her sleep, but not enough to reach the knots, no matter how she struggled, flopped, or contorted herself.

Sally made a careful sweep of the bedroom, making sure anything that could possibly be used to sever, saw, or snip through rope was either absent or impossible to reach from the bed.  She then unzipped and removed her jacket, untied and kicked off her sneakers and socks, and unzipped and removed her jeans.  Andrea watched this process with leering attention.  (Or was it Sally's imagination and the pretty little captive was simply being polite?)  Clad only in t-shirt and panties, Sally pattered to the bathroom, did her business, and returned.

Relaxed in her bonds, Andrea was still watching.   That's the cutest little cleft on her chin, Sally decided, and the biggest, most kissable set of lips...  The "kidnapper" shook her head (to break the spell), climbed into the bed, and snuggled close to her captive.  (This was another technique Katherine had taught her.  Sleeping close to your prisoner limited the possibility they'd squirm free of their bonds without it being noticed.)   Or that's what she keeps telling me, the worried blonde thought.   I think she's just too cheap to buy me my own bed.  Katherine... I'm sorry!  She pulled the quilt up to their chins, reached over, and turned off the reading light on the bedside table.

"Aren't you going to kiss me Good Night?" Andrea purred, and wiggled even closer to her captor.

"If you make any noise during the night, you'll be kissing duct tape," Sally warned.  "And if I feel you trying to get free, you'll sleep hog-tied on the floor."

Andrea yawned, and snuggled her head against Sally's shoulder.  "I'll be good," she promised.  "You're so cute when you get all wicked and menacing like that."

"Shut up and go to sleep, you little flirt.  I mean it!"

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea whispered.

Sally yawned herself, but stared up at the dark ceiling, unable to sleep.  'Mistress'...  Little flirt!  The events of the night kept running through her mind.  Sally couldn't think of anything she'd done wrong... or would have done differently... But Katherine was missing, and probably a prisoner... And Sally had to figure out how to get her back...   Katherine!  Sally sighed and closed her eyes.

"She'll be okay... your Katherine... I promise," Andrea whispered, her voice slurred and sleepy.

"Quiet," Sally whispered back (but gave her prisoner a grateful hug).   Katherine'll be okay.  I'll make her okay.  Sally closed her eyes.

Something felt good...  Something felt very good...  Something felt very VERY good...  Katherine had tied her up (as usual)—no—she was untied, but couldn't move—no—she didn't want to move, wanted to pretend she was tied up—'cause Katherine was between her legs, her tongue and lips doing their usual skillful job of licking and sucking and nibbling and slipping and sliding and...   Oh Katherine!  ...and...   Oh God!  ...and...   Oh, oh, O!!!

Sally opened her eyes.  "What the hell???"  She was on her back in bed, in the cabin's bedroom, in near darkness, most of the bedclothes thrown back, her panties around her knees... and Andrea's head was bobbing between her thighs!!!  The still bound (but obviously far from helpless) redhead had managed to roll between her captor's legs, pull down Sally's panties (with her teeth?) and give the squirming, sweating blonde's sex a serious licking, all without waking her... until now.

Shuddering with the orgasm that had passed—was passing—was about to pass—through her loins (and still half asleep), Sally tensed her splayed legs and pointed her toes—and squealed in delight—and surprise—and outrage!

Flushed and shivering, Sally grabbed a double handful of red curls and lifted her "prisoner's" head away from her tingling sex.  "What the hell are you doing?"

Andrea licked her full lips.  Sally could just make out her captive's coyly smiling features in the pre-dawn light.  "As if you don't know," the smug redhead purred.  "Let me start over.  This time you can hold my head like you're forcing me... and you can make all sorts of dire warnings about all the horrible things you're going to do to me if I don't suck your pussy, and you can call me your slut and whore and every other dirty thing you can think of, and—"

"Stop it!" Sally interrupted, then growled in frustration when Andrea laughed, tossed her head partially free of Sally's hands, craned her neck forward, and gave the confused blonde's glistening sex a kittenish lick.  Sally resumed her tight grip and pulled Andrea's head away.  "I said stop it!"

"Why?"

"Why???  Because you're my prisoner and... and..."

Andrea laughed.  "Just because you've captured me... and tied me up... and spirited me away to your Bandit's Lair in the Deep Woods... that doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Now Sally laughed.  "This isn't going to work, you flirt.  You're staying tied up."

"Oh, I don't mind that," Andrea said, twisting and snuggling in her bonds.  "It's fun being a prisoner... sometimes...  Isn't it?"

Sally blushed.  "Stop!"

"No, you stop!" Andrea laughed.  "I know you think I'm pretty—"

"Beautiful."

"What?"

Sally blushed anew.  "I said you're beautiful," she whispered.   Now why did I say that? the confused blonde wondered.

This time Andrea blushed (sending a thrill through Sally's loins and up her spine).  "You're beautiful too."

Sally scoffed, rolled to the side, and pulled up her panties.  "Nice try, but you went too far, Red.  I know what I look like."

Andrea curled on her side and smiled up at her captor.  "You are beautiful... whatever your name is."

"Sally," the blonde muttered.

"Sally..." Andrea purred, then grew serious.  "I know you hear the 'C-word' a lot—"

"Hey!" Sally objected.  "No need to get foul-mouthed."

Andrea smiled.  "By 'C-word' I mean cute."

"Oh," Sally answered, and sighed.  "Yeah... I do get my dimples pinched a lot, especially by my aunts.  So what?"

"Well," Andrea continued, "whether you believe it or not, you're beautiful.  There are different kinds of beauty... and you're the cute, tomboy, feisty-little-hoyden kind... the Sally kind."

Sally snorted in derision (and blushed yet again).  "Flirt!  You're still staying tied up."

Andrea licked her lips and smiled.  "I know."

Sally shook her head.  "Dear diary... Today I kidnapped a redhead, tied her up... and she raped me."

Andrea giggled, and squirmed in Sally's ropes.  "A generous hostess would return the favor."

Sally smiled.  "But I'm your kidnapper, remember... not your hostess."

Andrea sighed, then blinked her big green eyes and pouted with theatrical distress.  "Oh please, Mistress Sally!  Please don't hurt me!  Please don't take down my tights and caress my panties!"

"Stop!"

"Please don't pull my top over my head and tease my pert little nipples!"

Sally laughed.  "I said stop!"

"Please don't finger my cunt until I cum like a squirmy little minx!"

"Stop!" Sally repeated.  "And you're a vixen, not a minx."

"I stand corrected," Andrea said with a giggle, then wiggled and squirmed until her smiling face was inches from Sally's.  "And please don't kiss my lips..."  The captive kissed her captor.  "And slide your tongue into my mouth..."  She kissed Sally again, and this time the kiss was returned, with enthusiasm, and the blonde pulled the bound redhead into her arms, and the kiss continued for a very long time.

"You're staying tied up," Sally purred.

"I know," Andrea whispered, and they kissed again.  "Vixen, huh?"

"Yeah," Sally whispered.  "And I'm a squirmy little blond weasel."  And again they kissed.

"That remains to be seen," Andrea giggled, then gasped as she felt Sally's hand slide under her tights and panties and caress her moist sex.