by Van © 2003
To see the actresses the author would cast in a THOMASINA CROWN motion picture,
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OUR STORY CONTINUES
SIX WEEKS INTO KATHERINE'S TRAINING
THERAXOS (MAIN ISLAND), THE CYCLADES, GREECE
A SECLUDED POCKET BEACH
Nude and happy, sprawled on the warm sand, Katherine stretched and yawned, then continued her story. "By the time she got back from making all her phone calls... that damned butterfly thing had been teasing me for hours! I was ready to rape a goat... only I was completely helpless, of course; so I suppose I would have had to let the goat rape me."
Equally nude (and happy), Kimber rolled onto her right side, dug her elbow into the sand, and propped her smiling head on her hand. She reached over and ran the fingers of her left hand through Katherine's sun-bleached brown hair. "No goat being available," she suggested, "you settled for Tommy."
Katherine laughed, then her face grew serious. "It was... glorious... like nothing I'd ever felt before," she sighed. "I thought I'd die!"
Kimber continued stroking Katherine's hair. "Hmm... but what a way to go, eh?" Katherine simply nodded. Kimber grinned, then affected a hurt pout. "Like nothing, huh? What about last night?"
Katherine grinned, remembering the previous night's lovemaking. She eyed the small gold rings dangling from the nipples of Kimber's perfect breasts, reached up and gave Kimber's left breast an affectionate caress; then her smile turned decidedly mischievous. "I said, 'nothing I'd ever felt before,' okay? I find you a perfectly adequate goat substitute."
"Goat substitute?" Kimber gasped in mock outrage. "That doesn't even make sense! I'll show you goat substitute!" She rolled atop Katherine's body and began tickling her ribs.
Katherine writhed and giggled, doing her best to evade Kimber's strong, tan, nimble fingers, with no success. "Stop! You're not a goat! Stop!"
"Baaaah!" Kimber bleated, continuing to tickle the gasping, wiggling, laughing Katherine.
"Ahhh! You're not a goat! P-please!" Katherine begged.
Kimber relented, but captured each of Katherine's hands in hers and pinned the still giggling brunette on her back, her weight on Katherine's hips and abdomen. "Now that we've established that' I'm not a goat..." she whispered. Kimber and Katherine locked eyes, then Kimber leaned close and kissed Katherine's lips—and Katherine planted her feet, lifted her rump off the sand, and flipped Kimber into a roll. Kimber completed the roll and flowed into fighting stance. By this time Katherine was on her feet, also ready for action. The blonde grinned. "I thought you said two hours of combat practice was enough? You want more? Good move, by the way."
"Thank you," Katherine answered, also grinning. "I have a good teacher... for a goat."
Kimber's grin widened. "Just for that... I'm going to demonstrate a new takedown." Her eyes never leaving her opponent, Kimber sidestepped to the heap of clothing near the stairs leading off the beach, pulled a length of thin cord from under the pile, coiled and held it in her mouth, then returned. "Rea-hee?" she mumbled.
Katherine laughed. "Wh—?" There was a flurry of flailing limbs, Kimber's hip slid against Katherine's stomach, and the startled brunette found herself sailing through the air. She landed and began her recovery roll, but Kimber was already on her. In a flash, Katherine was on her stomach, her hands wrenched behind her back, and cord was tightening around her wrists. She tried a breakaway roll, but all it earned her was Kimber's knee pressing the side of her face into the sand. "Ow! Get off me, you horse!"
Kimber laughed. "I thought I was a goat?" she inquired, finished the task of binding her student, then rolling to the side.
Katherine lifted herself and rolled onto her knees. "You're a horse-sized goat!" she groused, glaring at her captor with poorly disguised amusement. She twisted her crossed and bound wrists. I can get out of this... eventually, she decided.
Stretched full-length on the sand; tan, strong, and beautiful; Kimber smiled at her captive. "I've got a secret," she announced.
Katherine shook her head in a futile attempt to straighten her tousled hair.. "Well?"
"Tommy's not due back from Moscow for at least another week... but someone else returned last night."
Katherine continued her Ill-treated Damsel Pout for several seconds, then her curiosity got the better of her. "Who?"
Kimber's smile became infuriatingly coy, and she climbed to her feet. Still not answering, she walked to the clothing pile and began dressing. "Go rinse off," she said, nodding towards the Mediterranean.
Katherine frowned, but followed her sensei's order. She waded out into the water, far enough so she could duck down and get completely wet, then stood tall and strolled back to the sand.
By this time, Kimber had donned her panties, shorts, and t-shirt, and was watching Katherine, hands on hips. "Aphrodite, emerging from the sea."
Katherine smiled (and blushed slightly). "I'm a devotee of Artemis, remember? You're Aphrodite's child."
Kimber laughed (and blushed), lifted the dripping, nude, and bound Katherine into her arms, and started up the steps towards the interior of the island.
"Hey!" the prisoner protested. "What about my clothes?"
"What about them?" Kimber purred. "They're above the tide line."
The THOMASINA CROWN Affair
| — Chapter 16
Katherine was carried up the stairs, then Kimber shifted her onto her shoulder. They continued through a cavern-like entrance, and deep into the interior of the island's central peak. After many twists and turns, they came to a gate of iron bars, and Kimber set her prisoner down on her bare feet. "Don't even think about running," the blonde said with a cheerful grin.
"Oh, I am sooooo terrified," Katherine muttered.
Kimber unlocked and opened the gate, and motioned for Katherine to precede her. The captive stepped through, and discovered, several paces down the dark corridor, a second door, this one of heavy timbers, banded and studded with iron. The gate closed and locked behind her, and Katherine turned.
"Wait here," Kimber instructed, and walked away.
"I can do that," Katherine called after her captor, then turned and examined her surroundings. The floors, ceiling, and walls were dressed marble, like most of Theraxos; but while most of the marble "upstairs" was polished and smooth, these blocks were rough and natural. Part of Helena's dungeons, Katherine surmised. Heavy iron rings were set in either side wall, equidistant from the iron gate and timber door.
Kimber returned, a black leather duffle in her left hand. She unlocked the gate, set down the duffle, and pulled several coils of thin, braided, cotton cord from a side pocket. "Down," she ordered.
Katherine sighed, considered the absurd possibility of sprinting through the open gate, down the dark corridors, and somehow evading Kimber-the-Perfect-Athlete; then gracefully (sullenly) settled to the stone floor. "I hate being tied up," she muttered.
Kimber smiled and set to work. Soon Katherine was bound at the ankles and knees. Cord crossed between and framed her breasts, pinning her arms to her sides, and Kimber was pulling her bound ankles to her bound wrists and binding her in a strict hog-tie.
Katherine watched as Kimber pulled a pair of scarves from another side pocket. Both were boiled silk, dyed a deep, rich indigo. "What did I do to deserve this?" the prisoner mumbled.
Kimber smiled, wadded one of the scarves into a loose ball, and crammed it between Katherine's pouting lips. "This isn't a punishment, Sweetness," she purred. "This is a pop quiz, part of your Escapology training." The second scarf was folded into a narrow bandage, the center was placed against the nape of Katherine's neck, and the two ends pulled across her face and over her stuffed mouth. Kimber tied a tight square knot, centered over the first scarf and between Katherine's teeth, then pulled the remaining ends behind Katherine's neck and tied a second knot. She was careful not to trap her captive's damp riot of tousled tresses.
Katherine tested her bonds and growled through her gag, groping with her fingers. Surprisingly, she encountered several knots. Untying the knots in the thin, soft cord would be difficult, as would figuring out which knot was key, but her bonds were not inescapable... probably.
Kimber returned from the duffle yet again, this time with a stiff brush and matching comb. She lifted Katherine up on her knees, settled against the wall behind her, pulled the bound, naked captive close, and began brushing her hair. The strokes were firm and even, but Kimber was careful to gently free any tangles encountered. The pampered prisoner sighed through her gag and squirmed in her bonds as Kimber continued. "Here's the rules of the quiz," Kimber explained. "When I'm finished straightening out this mare's nest, I'm going to lock you in here until morning." Katherine complained through her gag, and was ignored. "If you get free... there's a present waiting for you beyond the wooden door." Katherine turned her head to gaze at the door, and Kimber reached down and lightly slapped her flank with the back of the brush. "Hold still," she scolded, and began braiding the prisoner's hair. "There's a gift from Tommy waiting in the duffle," Kimber added, "but like whatever's beyond the door... you only get it if you escape my ropes."
Katherine's eyes darted from the duffle to the door, and she fingered her wrist bonds. I can do this, she decided, I hope.
Kimber reached around from behind and held something for Katherine's inspection. It was a cylindrical barrel clip, perhaps four inches long and and a little more than an inch wide. It was antique silver, and decorated with an elegant crescent moon. It was beautiful! "This is from me," Kimber explained, "and you get to keep it, regardless." She demonstrated the working of the clip's hidden clasp. The clasp split lengthwise and opened, revealing rows of blunt teeth. Closed, it would be like a long, narrow, silver cuff. Kimber's hands and her gift disappeared from Katherine's sight, and she felt the clip snap around her braid, behind her neck. "There," Kimber whispered, "a pretty French braid above, and a free flowing tangle below. Perfect."
"Hm-hoo," Katherine mumbled through her gag.
"You're welcome," Kimber said, and kissed the crown of her prisoner's head. She then gently settled Katherine on her stomach, parallel to the wall and facing the iron gate, and tied the remaining free end of her bonds through the ring set in the wall. Katherine squirmed on her tummy and squashed breasts, and watched as Kimber pulled a long white candle from the duffle. She lit the milky cylinder, dripped a little wax on the floor beside the duffle, and seated the candle's base in the hardening wax. "There... eight hours of light. If you aren't free by then, you probably won't get free by morning... but feel free to keep trying... in the total darkness." She knelt by her glaring, mewing captive, and laughed. "Oh boy... If looks could kill..." She leaned close and kissed Katherine's tan shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Sweetness. You're a good student. You climb like a spider, swim like a dolphin, and once I finish ridding you of your bad habits, you'll be a formidable fighter." She fingered the cords dimpling the flesh of Katherine's arms, and followed the bands to a series of knots between her shoulder blades. "Oh, that was sloppy of me," she muttered," and tied an additional knot in two dangling, already knotted, free ends. "There. You can start escaping now."
Katherine growled a gagged tirade at Kimber's disappearing back and squirmed in her bonds.
Kimber pulled the gate closed and turned a key in its lock. "Good luck!" she said brightly, and sauntered away down the corridor. When she reached the first bend, she smiled, waved, and did something to the wall that Katherine couldn't see. There was a echoing click, and with a loud rumble, a thick slab of marble began lowering from the ceiling at the threshold of the corridor. Katherine watched as the light at the end of the passage shrank to an ever narrower rectangle, then a bar, and then, with a last echoing thud, was gone.
The THOMASINA CROWN Affair
| — Chapter 16
The candle was nearly a quarter expended by the time Katherine wriggled out of the last length of cord. Kimber had done a workmanlike job of tying her up. The average person would probably not have been able to get free, especially from the soft, thin cord the Blond Goddess had used. The braided cotton held a knot very well, and they were exceedingly difficult to tease apart if under any sort of tension. Still, Katherine knew Kimber had deliberately made several "mistakes" in the placement of knots and the pattern of her former bonds. It was hardly incompetence. Her teacher had simply crafted an exam her student could pass; not easily, but Katherine's eventual escape had proved possible. And now I'm free! The nude, slightly chilled "escapee" rubbed her rope marks (and there were a lot of them) and eyed the rough marble walls, iron bars, and iron-bound timber door of her prison. ...if you can call this freedom.
She walked to the duffle, knelt, zipped open the main compartment, and examined its contents. Wow! Her "gift from Tommy" was a leather catsuit. The leather was soft; its texture smooth and slightly pebbled; its color a gleaming cedar brown, with oxblood accents at the collars, cuffs, and along the important seams. She smiled, pulled the garment from the bag, and examined it closely. The scent of expensive tanned leather filled the dimly lit chamber. There were laurel leaves tooled into the surface, swirling like vines around the shoulders, breast cups, and seat, and trailing down and around the sleeves and legs. The catsuit's numerous zippers and buckles were all a dull, antique silver, and the zipper pulls were tiny silver crescent moons. Silver, laurel leaves, half-moons... Artemis!
Katherine looked back into the duffle. There were matching riding boots, with more of the laurel leaf tooling and oxblood accents. They were knee-length, with textured soles and elevated but still sensible heels, and zippers and buckles at the knees. Like most of the costumes involved in "Thomasina's Games," the outfit was stylish and functional; slightly kinky, but without being overly fetishistic. Katherine approved.
Something else in the duffle caught Katherine's eye. She reached in and extracted a small bundle wrapped in white tissue paper and tied with a silver ribbon. She untied the bow, opened the package, and discovered an exquisite set of lingerie, all in a sleek, satiny, deep red. There was a thong, an unlined demi bra, hose, and a pair of elastic garters. All the flimsy garments' lace repeated the laurel leaf theme of the leather, and in the center of the garters' rosettes were silver half-moons.
Katherine began dressing in her new outfit. Everything fit perfectly. The unmentionables were snug, comfy (and sexy). The catsuit clung to her toned, athletic form like a second skin; yet, its clever design gave her complete freedom of motion. The boots were custom made, comfortable as well-worn moccasins, and stable as running shoes (almost). Katherine ran her hands over her leather-clad body, savoring the feel (inside and out) of the catsuit. Thank you, Tommy. The exquisite garment was more than a gift. In Thomasina's realm, clothing was status. Prisoners, "slaves," (and often students) went naked (not counting their various, sundry, and ever-changing restraints, of course). "Handlers" and teachers, those in control, wore clothing... however skimpy... however quickly and easily discarded. At least for tonight... until Kimber arrived and reclaimed her student... Katherine was a Mistress!
She examined the remaining pockets of the duffle and discovered two more gifts: a pair of leather gloves that matched her catsuit, and a skeleton key with a red ribbon tied in a neat bow around its shaft. The key fit the wooden door (of course). Katherine turned the lock and opened the heavy portal... gasped... then smiled.
The THOMASINA CROWN Affair
| — Chapter 16
The space beyond was quite large, with a vaulted ceiling. It was well lit by numerous flickering, torch-like sconces set in the walls. Starting against the far wall and filling a third of the room was a vast machine: a complex framework of heavy timbers supporting a train of heavy bronze gears, varying in size from hubcap to wagonwheel. There were chainfalls with cannonball-sized counterweights, and a huge pendulum, the arm of which was a pole (the trunk of a small tree), and the brass, disk-shaped weight at its base the size of a hoplite's shield. All elements of the machine were in slow, well-regulated, stately motion.
Centered in the room and joined to the machine by heavy chains meshed with large gears was a narrow slab of polished marble, table height and inclined a few degrees from the horizontal. Near the machine, at the raised end, a pair of padded wooden clamps attached to a heavy timber sliding in deep grooves held a pair of ankles approximately two feet apart. The thick clamps locked around each ankle and leg from foot to mid-calf, and were tight and inescapable. Equally secure, at the lower end of the slab, a pair of similar clamps encased a pair of wrists from hand to mid-forearm. In between, of course, was a body, naked and stretched in a stringent spread-eagle, and that body belonged to... Helena Quinn!
Katherine realized the machine was a rack... a clockwork, pendulum-driven, automatic rack! Helena's strained, pale body glistened with sweat. Her well-toned muscles were stretched and defined, her ribcage prominent, her breasts nearly flattened. Her head was caged by a harness of thin leather straps, her mouth gagged and sealed. She lifted her chin and gazed at Katherine, pleading with her eyes.
Katherine smiled evilly, closed and locked the door behind her, then slowly sauntered into the chamber. The heels of her boots clicked on the marble floor, easily heard over the relatively quiet rumbling, clinking, and clanking of the rack's turning mechanism. Helena was a tired mess, obviously in significant distress, but Katherine had come to learn that while all of "Thomasina's Games" had a ferocious bark... their bite was almost always a playful nibble.
Along the left side of the slab supporting Helena's stretched form was a horizontal series of holes above a bronze rail. Below the rail a series of glass tiles set in the marble ranged in color from green, to yellow, to orange, to red. A pin was inserted in the hole above the orange tile, and a padlock snapped through the rail made sure it would remain. An arrow-like pointer attached to a gear traveled on the rail, and was slowly creeping out of the yellow and towards the orange.
Katherine walked a slow circuit around the slab. There was significant space between its foot and the main machine, and the design allowed Katherine to walk between the two without interfering with the chains linking the slab's gears to their power source. Helena's feet were imprisoned at about the level of Katherine's breasts, and she found the prisoner's toes had all been individually bound with thin rawhide thongs, splayed, and tied to small eyebolts in the stock-like clamps. The soles of Helena's strong, white feet were thus hideously (delightfully) vulnerable. Katherine grazed the instep of Helena's left foot with her right index finger, and smiled as her "gift" forced a piteous moan past her gag and tried to wiggle her clamped and toe-tied feet.
Katherine continued around to the right side and gazed down at Helena's body. She reached out and ran her gloved hand along the stretched prisoner's flank, from thighs, to hips, to ribs. She lightly scratched the shuddering, moaning captive's armpit, then lightly caressed the exposed flesh of her raised upper arm. All the while, Helena stared at her catsuited tormentor. Katherine was surprised (and, inexplicably, slightly embarrassed ) to find genuine fear in the "Dark Priestess'" brown eyes.
Helena's gag was complicated. The harness was simple enough, the usual thin, soft, tight leather straps encircling her forehead, looping under her chin, and framing her mouth and nose; however, whatever was plugging her mouth (and doing a magnificent job of it, by the way) was in parts. An oval-shaped, thickly padded leather strip was threaded through rings, one under each of the captive's ears, then back across her mouth and buckled directly in front, between her lips and under her leather framed nose. Katherine smiled sweetly, and unbuckled the covering strip. Underneath, she found a steel ring wedged between the prisoner's teeth and strapped to the harness on either side. There was also something wet, slimy, and silky stuffed in Helena's mouth. The prisoner hummed through the loose packing, but was unable to force it through the ring.
"Oh, poor baby," Katherine purred, reached into Helena's mouth, and slowly pulled out the stuffing. It turned out to be three pair of panties: white, pale blue, and moss green. "These wouldn't be gifts from Kimber, Andy, and Krippendorf, would they?" Helena glared at her and gurgled something unintelligible through the ring. "Hold still," Katherine said, and began unbuckling the ring. When it came away, Helena licked her pale lips and tried to speak, but her voice cracked. Katherine turned to a side table and filled a glass from an insulated carafe. She returned to the rack, smiled, took a sip, and held the glass for Helena to drink.
The spread-eagled prisoner drained the glass, then licked her lips. "You realize anything you do to me... I'll get back at you... in spades!"
"You're welcome," Katherine purred, returning to the table and setting down the glass. There were other things on the table, specifically: a riding crop; a small, multi-tailed flogger; several candles (suitable for wax dripping, Katherine realized); a bronze beaker full of quills and feathers; a small pinwheel of needle-sharp points that spun on a convenient handle; and a tiny, steel, crooked hand with dull claws, at the end of a pencil-thin wand. Katherine picked up the clawed hand and examined it closely. It was like a scaled down back scratcher. She smiled, turned, and returned to the rack, idly tapping her lower lip with the back of the tiny steel hand.
Helena's eyes focused on the scratcher, then locked with Katherine. "I mean it," she muttered. "It's only a matter of time 'til—"
Katherine's hand darted out and closed over Helena's mouth. "Let's can the threats, shall we?" She released her hand and held the scratcher before Helena's glistening face. "Anything I do to you will be strictly payback for the liberties you took with my person during my... 'recruitment.' After tonight... the slate is clean."
Helena scowled. "That's what you say," she growled, then the fear returned to her eyes as Katherine's hand slid towards her right breast and the steel claws lightly traced the margin of her erect nipple. "Okay, okay, 'clean slate,' she muttered.
"Really?" Katherine inquired, still smiling. "You agree?"
"Yes, yes, I agree," Helena whined, shuddering as Katherine continued teasing the flushed nipple, "now stop!"
Katherine shifted her attention (and the scratcher) to Helena's left nipple. "Oh... I don't think so. This is way too much fun. What did you do to deserve this, by the way."
"Nothing. Not a damn thing," Helena muttered.
"Really? Tommy decided to just... give you to me?" Katherine began scratching the underside of Helena's breasts. "How very sweet of her. How's this rack work, by the way."
Helena quivered and blinked sweat from her eyes. "It... it slowly stretches to a preselected limit, then slowly relaxes, then stretches again."
Katherine traced a sinuous path down Helena's abdomen and around her navel. "Automatic, continuous torture, but basically safe. One of your designs, no doubt."
Helena began panting, then bit her lower lip in concentration as Katherine delicately scratched her pubic bush. "Please," she whispered.
"Ah... The magic word," Katherine purred, and began scratching the margin of her victim's sex. "How many cycles have you endured? How long?"
Helena stifled a scream and shuddered. "S-seven—Aaaaaargh!"
"Cycles or hours?" Katherine inquired, leaning close and concentrating on the flushed petals of Helena's sex.
Katherine smiled, straightened up, and gave the claws of the scratcher a delicate lick with the tip of her tongue, her eyes locked with Helena's. "You know," she said softly, "I've fantasized for hours about all the things I was going to do to you, when the opportunity came... and now that it's here..." She tossed the scratcher towards the table, where it landed with a ping and a metallic clatter. "I find that inflicting fear and pain just doesn't appeal to me."
Helena stared in surprise. "You... you're going to let me go?"
Katherine's smile broadened, she reached down, slid the gloved fingers of her left hand along Helena's labia, then gently slid then inside the stretched captive's sex. Helena shuddered and bit her lip again. "I didn't say that," Katherine purred. "I'm going to leave you to the tender mercy of your oh-so-clever clockwork rack... and use each and every item on that table to make you cum as many times as I can manage... between now and when Kimber comes and unlocks the door." She began teasing Helena's clitoris with her index finger.
Helena shivered and moaned. "You bitch!" she hissed.
Katherine's smile became decidedly feral. "Exactly," she whispered.
The THOMASINA CROWN Affair
| — Chapter 16
|Chapter 17 ►|