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DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

EARLY MORNING
THERAXOS, THE CYCLADES, GREECE

---

Kimber was in one of the larger, more comfortable dungeon cells.  It had a picture window looking down on the Mediterranean (heavily barred, of course); as well as a large, comfortable, circular pallet covered with deep blue sheets, blankets, and pillows.  The naked blonde was spread-eagled on her back, bound with ribbon-wide leather thongs to iron rings set in the stone floor around the pallet.  In addition, a steel collar was locked around her neck and a long, loose chain trailed from the collar's ring to a staple embedded in the far wall.  Kimber lay limp in her bonds, her head nestled in a large, soft pillow and her tousled riot of sun-bleached curls.  She stretched, her firm, tan, perfect body, squirming slightly in her bonds; then sighed and closed her eyes.

A key rattled in a lock.  Kimber lifted her weary head and beheld Helena opening the iron gate that barred exit from the cell.  "What now?" Kimber demanded, a tired smile softening her words.

Helena made sure the gate would remain open, raised a single finger, then stepped back into the deep shadow of the entry passage.  She returned immediately with a little over two hundred pounds of wiggling freckled and tan flesh.

Kimber raised her head as far as her bonds allowed for a better view.  "What the...?"

Helena staggered forward with her squirming burden and deposited it on the pallet next to Kimber.  "Oof!" she complained.  "One at a time isn't too bad, but bundled together..."

The bundle in question was Andrea and Sally, of course.  They were in an involuntary close embrace, breast-to-breast, each with their left arm over the other's shoulder, right arm under the other's armpit, and their wrists flexi-cuffed together.  Further, their legs were intertwined and their ankles joined with flexi-cuffs, and ball-gags joined ball-to-ball by a single steel link kept their lips an inch apart.

"For once you can't blame me for something 'cruel and unusual', Helena said, "...except for the double ball-gag... and their pink heinies."  The "Dark Priestess" pulled a wickedly curved blade from her right boot and sliced Kimber's bonds, one-by-one.  "Katherine did this to them, right before she stole Tommy's new Scarab and set course for Athens."

"Katherine escaped?" Kimber demanded.  "And no one stopped her?"  She sat up and picked at the knots of the bands of thong still encircling each wrist.  All the while her gaze was on Sally and Andrea.  The embracing captives were shivering and their bodies covered with goose flesh.

Helena squatted and sliced the bands of thong on Kimber's ankles.  "Security's tracking her, making sure she doesn't get herself into trouble.  Tommy's orders."

Kimber sighed.  "Katherine's gone...  I hope she comes back, or Tommy nabs her again."  The blonde lifted her gaze from the weakly struggling pixies and pointed towards a blanket neatly folded at the foot of the pallet.  "Don't look so smug," she told Helena.  "You like Katherine too.  Admit it."

Helena tossed one end of the blanket to Kimber then helped her tuck it around Sally and Andrea.  "She was a lot of fun to torture."

"What the hell did you do to these two?" Kimber demanded, nodding at the embracing captives.

Helena smiled and stood.  "Oh, nothing drastic.  They were caught snooping on Tommy... so I swapped out the panties, scarf, and tape gags Katherine had given them for kissie-kissie ball-gags, strung them up on their toes by the center link, and gave their butts a thrashing with one of my favorite crops.  This left them rather hot, sweaty, and slippery, so I hosed them off with ice water."

"You absolute bitch!" Kimber remarked (stifling a smile).  Their hair damp and tangled, still shivering, the flexi-cuffed lovers gazed up at Kimber, then the focus of their green and blue eyes shifted to the grinning blonde's nipples.

Helena noticed their interest as well.  "How are the twins?" she purred.  "You need another pill?"

Kimber cupped her breasts and inspected her nipples.  Each was neatly pierced by a short, stainless steel, horizontal post capped on either end with a tiny steel sphere, then covered with a tough, semi-opaque layer of antiseptic foam.  "They're fine," Kimber answered.   "I'm fine."

Helena smiled, reached into her belt pouch, and tossed Kimber a small jar.  "Balm for the lovebirds' derrières," she explained, then turned to leave.

"Wait!" Kimber called after her.  "Tell me all the details of Katherine's escape!  And how's Tommy taking it?"

"I haven't had a chance to chat her up about it," Helena called back over her shoulder.  "She's busy being ravished by George... bound and gagged, chained by the neck, flat on her back while Georgie-boy rides her like a bronco.  I wonder if size does matter?"

Kimber laughed.  "Maybe the next time you screw up... so to speak... Tommy'll sic 'Georgie-boy' on you and you'll find out."

Shivering delicately, a frown on her pale features, Helena closed and locked the dungeon gate.  "Don't even joke about that," she said from the far side, then disappeared into the darkness.

Kimber dropped her gaze and smiled at Sally and Andrea.  The captives were still shivering a little.  Kimber sighed and inspected their "kissie-kissie ball-gag."  As she expected, the buckle at the nape of each prisoner's neck was locked with a tiny, dangling, heart-shaped padlock.  "Well, there's not much I can do for you two, other than soothe your 'wounded prides' with some of this balm," Kimber said.  A sympathetic smile on her angelic face, she lifted the blanket and inspected first Andrea's pale behind, then Sally's tan rear.  "Not too bad," Kimber purred, opening the jar.  "A little pink, but no serious marking.  Hold still while I rub this stuff on.  I think it's the deep-heating kind, and I'd hate to slip and get some of it on your nether lips."

Eyes wide, the embracing pixies nodded in unison, the only nod possible with their linked gags.

Kimber yawned as she began smearing the white cream on Sally's dimpled heinie (causing the helpless little blonde to clench her butt muscles, then sigh through her gag).  "Ahh... Excuse me," Kimber said, stifling a second yawn.  "The pain pill Helena gave me is making me sleepy."  She finished with Sally and began coating Andrea's behind.  The redhead shivered and hummed in contentment through her half of the gag.  Nursing duties accomplished, Kimber capped the jar and cleaned her hands on a corner of the pallet's top sheet.  She snuggled against her fellow prisoners, arranged the chain depending from her collar off to the opposite side, and pulled the blanket over all of them, but leaving her healing breasts exposed (of course).  "I know you two will have to roll over now and then," the sleepy blonde whispered, "but please try and let me get some sleep."  Kimber sighed.  "That bitch... why'd she have to saddle me with you two?"  Andrea and Sally squirmed and giggled quietly through their gags, then squealed when Kimber reached under the blanket and tapped each of them on their pink behinds.  "Quiet!" Kimber ordered, and closed her eyes.

LATE MORNING
NEAR PIRÆUS, GREECE

---

Katherine maneuvered the Scarab towards what was obviously the dock of a luxury hotel.  She'd considered simply abandoning the boat and swimming ashore... but a casual inspection of the harbor's water quality changed her mind.  Katherine had removed and stowed her equipment harness, dive knife, and rubber tabbies while still offshore, so her current costume was limited to the French-cut, zippered front, very stylish (and provocative) neoprene swimsuit she had "borrowed" from Thomasina's closet.  Katherine smiled, knowing she was showing a great deal of tan, firm, toned skin.  She liked looking hot.  She tossed her head to clear the windblown brown locks from her face and eased back on the throttle.  As she maneuvered the Scarab alongside the hotel dock and idled the engine, an attendant leaped aboard and took the bow line, then leaped back to the dock and made the boat fast.  "Thank you," Katherine said with a smile, cut the power, and tossed him the stern line.

The attendant was young, handsome, and very male, dressed in a uniform t-shirt and shorts.  "Madam is guest?" he inquired.

"Not yet," Katherine muttered, stifling a yawn.  (It had been a long night.)  "Excuse me."  She nodded towards an outdoor restaurant.  "Are they still serving breakfast?"

The attendant looked Katherine's swimsuited body up and down with an appreciative smile, then pointed towards the hotel's vast swimming pool.  "Madam orders breakfast at the pool, hokay?  Bathing clothes not allowed in the restaurant."

Katherine nodded, extended her hand, and was helped ashore.  "Okay.  Thank you..."  She eyed the attendant's name tag, but it was in Greek.

"Andreus, madam."

"Thank you, Andreus," Katherine purred, and discretely handed him a 20 euro bill.

"Enjoy your stay... hokay?" Andreus called after Katherine's disappearing back.

Katherine turned and waved, then continued to the pool.

Breakfast was large, delicious, and very expensive.  In the back of her mind Katherine knew she should be conserving the cache of euros she'd stolen, uh, borrowed from Thomasina.  Also, she should be distancing herself from the Scarab, procuring a more discrete costume, and making contacts to arrange for a money transfer, replacement passport, and a ticket to New York.  In other words, she should be making good with the rest of her escape... but the sun was warm, the pool was very nice, the food delicious, the service attentive but discrete... and she was soooo tired.

She's not coming after me, Katherine decided (for no good reason her intellect could discern).  Maybe I'll just...  Katherine yawned, then smiled sheepishly at her waiter.  She settled her bill, leaving a very generous tip (it being Thomasina's money), and transferred her swimsuited form to one of the pool's exquisitely comfortable lounge chairs.  I'll just rest my eyes for a few minutes, she told herself, stretched, listened to the water lapping against the pool...

...and everything had changed.  The sun was well past its zenith.  Katherine had a mild sunburn, and she noticed someone (probably the pool staff) had moved an umbrella to provide her with some shade.  Feeling very foolish (and only slightly refreshed), Katherine sat up and looked around.  The smattering of beautiful and/or rich bathers had changed, but there was nothing threatening in her idyllic surroundings; however, the staff had noticed her return to the world of the living.

A handsome older man in a neatly pressed suit of tan linen was approaching.  As he came near, Katherine could see a name tag and the crossed keys symbol of a concierge.  "Ms. Banning," he said, "I hope you enjoyed your nap."  His English was perfect, with only a slight accent.  "Your suite has been arranged."  He handed Katherine a leather portfolio.  Inside she found the usual welcoming letter, brochures detailing the hotel's services (and there were a lot of them), a key card, and two bulging envelopes, one gold and one bearing the logo of Olympic Airways.  The Olympic envelope contained an open-ended, first class ticket to New York; the gold envelope her passport, a credit card bearing the Crown International logo, and an unsigned note explaining that she was booked in the hotel for an indefinite stay, and all expenses would be paid by Crown, Inc.  There was also a pair of business cards, one with a set of telephone numbers in Greece and the other listing numbers in New York.  "The shopping arcade, spa, and salon are off the main lobby," the concierge explained.  "Please sign the register at the lobby desk at your convenience.  Would you like me to show you to your suite?"

Katherine was still examining the contents of the portfolio, and shook her head.

"Please let me know if you require any assistance," the concierge added, then bowed and departed.

"Thank you!" Katherine shouted at his back, and opened her passport.  It was her passport.  She recognized the creases, stains, and blurred stamps on several of the pages.   Quick, professional, and efficient, she mused.  Thomasina Crown surrounded herself with only the best.  When she wanted something to happen... it happened.  If she decided Katherine Banning required a "Get Out of Jail Free" card, she'd get one, with every "i" dotted and "t" crossed... printed with gold leaf on the finest parchment.

Katherine closed the portfolio and gazed across the pool, idly tapping her lips with the edge of the credit card.  The prudent thing to do would be to appear to accept Thomasina's largesse, fade into the streets at the first opportunity, then make her own way home; but what was the hurry?  Why not... indulge herself?

Katherine's slight sunburn was eased at the spa with a mud and herbal wrap; and her hair was cleaned, trimmed, and coifed at the salon.  She then sauntered through the hotel's boutiques and purchased lingerie, a couple of sporting ensembles, some club clothes, a tailored business suit, and a killer black dress; not to mention footwear, a few hideously expensive baubles, several silk scarves, and a small suitcase.

Katherine's suite was spacious and well appointed, without being ostentatious, and had a small balcony with a magnificent view of the Mediterranean.  As the sun began to set, Katherine considered gracing the main dining room with her presence, then dancing to the wee hours in the hotel's disco... but decided exhaustion was the better part of snooty waiters and euro-boogie fever and ordered room service.

Finally, stuffed grape leaves, braised lamb, and lemon potatoes consumed (along with a bottle of an excellent local wine) and the meal clutter wheeled away, Katherine double locked the suite's entrance, clicked off all the suite's lights, and strolled out onto the balcony.  There was a light breeze, and the heat of the day had already begun to fade.  Stars were twinkling in a cloudless indigo sky (few, compared to the billions visible through the clear air of Theraxos).  She could just hear the techno beat throb of the disco somewhere below, and people... mostly couples... were strolling around the pool, marina, and beach.  Katherine sighed, reached around and unzipped the back of her black dress, shrugged out of its narrow shoulder straps, and let the smooth, dark sheath slither to the ground.  She picked it up, sighed again, and stepped back into her suite.

Nude (and perhaps just the slightest bit tipsy from too much wine), Katherine hung her dress from a hanger, and collapsed on the turned down bed.  She snuggled against the cool sheets, lay on her back, and stared up at the dark ceiling.  Flecks of mica in the plaster glittered and flashed, pale imitations of the starry heavens Katherine had just beheld.

Katherine's thoughts turned to her protégé... her former protégé.   Sally... what are they doing to you, Little One?  Katherine remembered when she'd first taken the little blonde under her wing.  She'd been so bright, intelligent, and cute!  She was still so bright, intelligent, and cute.    Katherine lightly caressed her labia, remembering the first time she'd talked Sally into "Escapology Practice" (not that it had taken much convincing).  Wrists crossed and bound behind her back, ankles crossed and bound, clad in a tank-top and tight jeans, the little blonde had rolled and writhed on the loft's exercise mat for a full hour without getting free; then Katherine had cradled her in her lap and explained in detail exactly how one escaped from such bonds.  Katherine could still picture every detail: Sally's blue eyes gazing up at her with rapt attention; the film of sweat gleaming on the bound pixie's smooth, tan face; the way she panted through her full, flushed lips and flaring nostrils (in far too good a shape to be this winded, so why the heavy breathing?); the blonde's fingers fluttering and groping in Katherine's lap (and against Katherine's sex) as she tried to follow her teacher's instructions.

Katherine began stroking her labia in earnest, remembering the third Escapology Lesson; Sally in bra and panties (having claimed that all her exercise clothes were in the laundry); each wrist bound to its matching ankle but her ankles not tied together; blindfolded with a bandana; it was the first time they'd really kissed... and the first time they'd done more.  The helpless pixie screamed so loudly Katherine had been forced to stuff her panties in her gibbering mouth and hold them there while she manipulated the struggling, bucking, writhing minx' glistening, flushed sex until the precious little prisoner had cum and cum.  And later, still blindfolded and bound, at her own adamant insistence, Sally had returned the favor, her head bobbing between Katherine's legs and her surprisingly skillful tongue bringing her captor to shuddering, squealing orgasm.

And now Sally had Andrea... or Andrea had Sally.  Katherine visualized the petite redhead... Tinkerbelle... maid-in-chains... Sally's lover.  Katherine continued stroking her sex as she remembered capturing, stripping, and binding the red-haired vixen.  She wasn't jealous of Sally's new friend.  Katherine's relationship with 'Little One' wasn't really changed, or so she believed.  Sally and Andrea had something beyond what Katherine shared with Sally; but she was still close to the dimpled pixie; however... it might be a very long time before she saw either the cute little blonde or the cute little redhead again.

And when would she see Kimber again?  If Thomasina was true to her word (and Katherine was sure she was), the Blond Goddess was in her "day of rest" following whatever horrible things Helena had done to her.  Poor  Kimber... so beautiful and strong.  Katherine could feel her hands massaging her sore body, caressing her sex, toying with her in her captive condition.  Captive condition...

Katherine bounded from the bed and gathered the scarves she had purchased with Thomasina's plastic, as well as a washcloth from the bathroom, and the terry cloth sashes from the suite's two complementary robes.  She folded one scarf into a narrow bandage and used it to bind her crossed ankles together.  Another was used to bind her knees.  She then folded a scarf through the folded washcloth, stuffed as much of the neat terry cloth pad into her mouth that she could, and gave herself a tight cleave-gag.  Next, one of the sashes was looped over her arms and torso and knotted as tightly as Katherine could manage.  She then took the second sash, tied one end around her left wrist, wiggled and writhed until she had folded her left arm behind her back and had the second sash looped around the first.  Finally (and this was very difficult with both arms pinned), she managed to toss the free end of the second sash over her right shoulder, loop it through the first sash between her breasts, and pull it tight.  This pinned her left wrist between her shoulder blades, and tightened down the sash encircling her arms.  She cinched the second sash and relaxed in her self imposed bonds.  Not exactly inescapable.  Her right wrist was completely free, but her right arm was pinned above the elbow.  Escape was not the issue.  Katherine was as helpless as she needed to be... to pretend... to pretend that she'd been captured again... by Helena.

Helena...  The Dark Priestess was not the monster she pretended to be.  Katherine could see that now.  She was Thomasina Crown's tame bogeyman, her tiger on a leash.  Katherine twisted and fought her bonds, then slid her right hand back to her crotch.  Katherine pictured Helena's flawless, fair skin, gleaming dark hair, penetrating brown eyes, and the sly smirk of her cruel smile.  Sometimes a person's character can be seen more clearly in reflection; and in the mirror of Andrea, Kimber, and Thomasina Crown, Helena-the-horrible-beast became Helena-the-pussycat... albeit a sadistic pussycat more than happy to toy with any naked, helpless, kidnapped mouse Thomasina tossed her way.  Jealous?  Maybe.  Overzealous?  HELL yes, but Katherine could take whatever she dished out... probably... maybe...  In any case, Helena the pussycat was a catspaw, Thomasina Crown's willing catspaw.

Thomasina...  Katherine stroked herself with her free hand, writhed on the bed, and mewed softly through her gag, remembering the last time she had been Thomasina's helpless plaything; and after her escape, with Thomasina helpless in her bonds, of running her hands over the bound beauty's firm, fair skin... feeling her strong, well-toned muscles struggling against Katherine's ropes, against her skill with placement and knot tying... struggling and fighting, not surrendering for a single instant, as Katherine caressed her skin, her sex, kissed her nipples, her neck; struggling and fighting, 'til she came, and came, and came... just as Katherine was cumming now.

Katherine shuddered and stretched full length in her bonds, pointing her toes and mewing through her gag... then relaxed.   Thomasina...  Katherine slid her right arm under the sash binding her arms and tucked her right wrist under and against her left wrist.  She tossed and turned on the now damp sheets and rolled onto her back and semi-bound wrists, snuggled into the soft/firm mattress, turned her gagged face to the side (savoring the feel of the cool sheets on her hot cheek), and closed her eyes.   I hate being tied up! Katherine reminded herself.