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			DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
			A Bug's Tale (Charlie's Story) ———————————————— by Van & Courier  ©2000
			Chapter 8

Teri twisted in her bonds.  "'Persuasion'," she said scornfully.  "Why don't you call it what it is?  Torture!  You're going to torture us."

Victoria nodded to Drake, who sighed and put down her coffee cup.  "I think the good Doctor's contribution to our breakfast conversation is over," the smiling redhead announced.

Charlie started to speak, but realized anything she said would probably only make things worse.  She glanced to the side at the stringently hog-tied Jessie, still quietly sobbing behind her gag.  Charlie examined the naked teenager's wrist, ankle, and elbow bonds.  Good ropework, she conceded.

Teri watched as Drake retrieved her leather gag from the flagstones.  She turned her face back to Victoria.  "Look," she said, "I'll help you, I'll do anything you want, just let Charlie go, okay?"  She licked her lips nervously as Drake wiped the foam plug of the gag with a napkin, then dipped it in a small bowl of thick, red salsa.  "Torture me," Teri offered, "only let Charlie go, plea—z'mmpfh!"

Drake stuffed the dripping plug into Teri's mouth, then quickly, efficiently, and tightly buckled the strap behind the mewing archeologist's neck.  Drake stepped back and smiled evilly, savoring her victim's wide-eyed, distressed, facial contortions.

"Drake, you naughty girl," Victoria scolded with a teasing laugh.  "At least she didn't use the really hot salsa," she confided in an aside to Charlie.  Drake sat down and resumed sipping her coffee.  Victoria half rose from her chair, leaned forward, and wiped Teri's chin with a napkin.  Teri glared at the smiling redhead, then flinched when Victoria dropped the napkin and caressed Teri's right breast with her strong, freckled hand.  "Such nice skin," she purred.  "I bet it holds a tan well."

Charlie watched in silence.  Drake was following Victoria's quite literal handling of her captive with carefully masked jealousy.  Bad news, Charlie reflected.  A jealous Drake could only mean more discomfort for the prisoners.

"You have a nice healthy color now," Victoria continued, "but just wait 'til you've had a few dozen hours staked out on one of my stone tables.  When I'm through with you, you'll be brown as a nut from head to toe... except for tan lines on your wrists and ankles, of course."  Victoria's hand slid down Teri's flat stomach as the distressed captive squirmed and mewed.  "Don't worry," Victoria said, "I won't let you burn.  I'll rub in lots of nice, thick cocoa butter."

Victoria sat back down in her chair and gazed at Teri.  The naked, chained, roped, and gagged archeologist was breathing rapidly behind her gag, and her eyes were wet, whether from the spicy salsa or outrage it was difficult to tell.  "You're a bit of a prude, aren't you Doctor?" Victoria inquired.  Teri shifted her gaze to the distant canyon wall and ignored the question.  "Yesss," Victoria purred.  "Well, the Prioress of Seversea-on-Wye and I can solve that problem for you."  She laughed as Teri and Charlie exchanged a confused glance.  "The Reverend Mother Peale believed that female pleasure was as effective a path to salvation as female pain." she continued.  "It was one of the things that got her into serious trouble with the Holy See."  Victoria turned her gaze to Charlie.  "You follow me?" she asked.

Charlie swallowed nervously, unsure how to answer her... hostess.  "Uh, Better living through orgasm?" she suggested.

Victoria laughed.  "More like the gates of heaven could be reached through... 'the gates of heaven'," she said.  "Don't get me wrong.  In her own twisted way, she was as big a misogynist as her male superiors, but she believed pain and pleasure should be used to persuade, that some of her victims required a glimpse of heaven to repent, other's... a glimpse of hell.  She designed her machines accordingly."  Drake glanced at her wristwatch, then at Victoria.  Victoria nodded and turned her attention back to Teri.  "I think for you, Doctor, we'll concentrate on the more pleasant means of persuasion.  A few hundred orgasms from now, and you'll be a new woman."

Drake rose from her chair and knelt beside Jessie.  Charlie found her attention divided between the one-sided exchange at the table, and the one-sided struggle on the ground below.

Teri carefully ignored Victoria, but her breathing was still somewhat rapid.  "Very soon you'll develop a craving for the Reverend Mother's brand of restrained delight, Doctor, but until that time, a special rule will apply: every time I tell you to cum, you will do your best to cum—or your friend Charlie will be punished, and not with pleasure.  More that 'glimpse of hell' we were just discussing."

Charlie watched as Drake untied Jessie's ankles and used a new length of rope to hobble them a foot apart.  She used the now free end of the former wrist to ankle rope to give the mewing teen a tight crotch rope, which also served to pin her forearms to her hips and narrow waist.

Charlie shifted her attention back to Victoria.  "Uh, sorry to be critical," she said, "but we get the do as I say or I punish your friend bit, okay?  She's a Ph.D.  I'm almost a Ph.D.  We get it.  Change the channel."

Drake hauled Jessie to her hobbled feet, and frowned at Charlie.  "You want me to gag the midget?" she asked.

"And silence such a delightful sense of humor?" Victoria laughed.  "I think not.  We can always punish her for anything she says later."

Drake tied a rope leash around Jessie's throat, dragged her over to a nearby pergola, tossed the end of the leash over one of the top beams, and pulled until the bound and gagged teenager was forced up onto her toes.  Drake then tied the leash off and returned to the table.

"I like your skin too," Victoria told Charlie.

"Uh... thanks," Charlie said quietly.

"You don't tan very well, do you?" Victoria asked.

"I darken a little, but not much," Charlie agreed.  "I mostly just dry out, do a lobster imitation, and peel."

"Well, we can't have that, can we," Victoria said, "so, I think you'll not be seeing the sun again for a while."  Charlie swallowed nervously.  "Not for a few months, anyway," Victoria continued.  "I will probably spread-eagle you on the slab, like your friend here," she said, indicating Teri, "but only at night."

Drake was busy untying Teri from her chair.  Charlie glanced at Delores, and found the branked and chained maid standing quietly to the side, gazing towards Jessie.  Drake tied an end of rope through the ring in the front of Teri's iron collar, pulled her to her feet, and towards the pergola.  Soon the helpless archeologist was beside the ropebound teenager and up on her toes, wrists manacled behind her back and chained to the back of her collar, hopping and dancing, the chain of her leg irons clattering on the stone flags.

"Regarding pleasure or pain..." Victoria said.  Charlie shifted her attention back to the gloating redhead.  Victoria leaned close.  "You've not like your friend," she whispered, "are you?"

"How can you even think that?" Charlie asked, "Ter and I are like sisters, two peas in a pod, like we were separated at—"

"No," said Victoria with calm assurance, shaking her head.  "I think you two are quite different when it comes to, shall we say, experience?"

"Uh," Charlie managed eloquently.

Victoria chuckled, then continued in a whisper. "You're not a prude, like 'Ter.'  You've taken to your new state a little too easily.  It doesn't seem to trouble you at all to be naked in a crowd.  I'll wager you're a regular little hedonist slut, aren't you?"

"'Slut' is a such a harsh word," Charlie said.  "I prefer nymph..."  Victoria smiled, but said nothing.  "...or minx, or wench , or..." Charlie stopped, realizing her audience was not buying any of it.  "Okay, so I think pleasure feels good..."  Charlie bit her lower lip in concentration, then continued.  "It sort of has to feel good by definition, doesn't it?  Anyway, yes, I enjoy pleasure, so shoot me!  Uh... not literally, I mean."

"Figuratively," Victoria agreed (not entirely reassuring the diminutive prisoner).  "A hedonist 'nymph'..." the redhead mused.  "Well, in that case, no pleasure for you, not for a long time, anyway.  You'll get to watch your friend blossom, but for you, it will be all stick, and no carrot."

Charlie gazed at Victoria for several long seconds.  "Why?" she asked, finally.

Victoria seemed genuinely surprised by the question.  "Because it pleases me," she explained softly.

Charlie swallowed and said nothing.

Having finished dealing with Teri, Drake had returned to the table.  With deft fingers, she untied Charlie from her chair, and as she had with Teri, tied a rope to her collar.  She then retrieved Charlie's gag, rinsed it with a splash of water, and buckled it loosely around the petite prisoner's throat.  Manacles and fetters clinking, Charlie was dragged towards her fellow prisoners; then Drake untied Jessie and Teri's leads; and they were all retied neck-to-neck in a coffle, with Jessie in the lead, Teri in the middle, and Charlie in the rear.

"The real fun will commence tomorrow," Victoria announced, "but we'll take you someplace in the dungeons where you can relax."  Victoria joined Charlie at the rear of the coffle.  She reached out and lifted Charlie's chin.  "Well... 'relax' may not be entirely precise," she admitted.  The gloating redhead then released Charlie's chin and nodded to Drake.  Charlie looked back towards the table and found Delores beginning to stack the dishes... then her leash jerked and the fettered and hobbled parade began.

Lourdes and the tilt-wing aircraft had departed, and the rim of the pocket valley protecting Anasazi site BC-131 was fast disappearing in the rearview mirror.  Janet grabbed the hand hold sculpted into the passenger side of the dash of the Hex-Rover (Kat's name for the six-wheeled vehicle) and gritted her teeth as they rolled into a gully and up the far side.  That wasn't so bad , she mused.  The hybrid electric engine and six electric motors in the wheel hubs were virtually silent, not at all like the roaring, gasoline-powered 4x4's the Navajo Tribal Police used to augment their conventional police cruisers.

"We'll overtake the second forensics robot in about fifteen miles," Kat announced, "but we have a 90% track for the Humvee all the way to the first paved road."  Janet gave her camouflaged companion a skeptical glance.  "Pattern recognition algorithms, full spectrum sensors on the drone overhead... Don't ask me.  I'm just the driver."

"Yeah, right," Janet said with a smile, but a smile which quickly faded.  "What then, when we reach the road?  We don't have any real leads, do we?"

Kat drove in silence for several seconds, concentrating on the almost nonexistent road in the rocky ground ahead and the heads-up display of tracking data projected on the inside of the windshield.  "We're correlating data on all Humvees bought, sold, leased, and stolen in four states, and—"

"And we could do that for the next year and get nowhere," Janet interrupted, "although we still have to do it."

Kat frowned.  The cop was right, and it didn't make her happy.  "What do you suggest?" Kat growled.

Janet stared into the distance, not offended by her companion's attitude.  Worried 'bout her friends, she mused.  "Just how good is this surveillance system of yours?" she asked finally.

"Good," Kat snapped.  Good enough, she prayed silently.

"I don't personally know this area," Janet admitted.  "Can you scan for Navajo outfits—hogans, sheep camps, and such?"  Almost instantly, one of the monitors in the dash flashed and displayed a topographic map of the area.  One by one, a handful of small symbols began appearing on the map.  "That was fast," Janet remarked.

Another dash display flashed, and Janet found herself staring into the face of a belagana woman in a business suit.  "Sergeant Begay," the woman said.  "My name is Eve Cerveau.  I'm coordinating the systems that are searching for our friends and their abductors."

"Pleased to meet you," Janet said.  "You another TESSERACT employee?"

"You might say that," Eve said with a smile.  "Now, can you help me refine the search parameters for the 'outfits' you're looking for?"

"Sure thing," Janet answered.  "Let's start by eliminating sites that are more than... say... forty miles from the Humvee's trail."

"Understood," Eve said, and all but three of the symbols disappeared.

"Can you show me more about the ones left?" Janet asked.  One of the symbols flashed, expanded to fill the screen, blinked, then was replaced by a surprisingly detailed photographic image of a hilltop clearing with a single, round hogan.  "We can skip this one," Janet said.  "It's dead."

"What?" Kat asked.

"The hole in the North wall," Janet said pointing at the screen.  "Death hogan."

"What?" Kat repeated.

"If a Dineh dies unexpectedly, before they can be carried outside," Janet explained patiently, "the hogan is abandoned.  The family covers the door and smoke-hole and takes the body out the North wall.  It's supposed to send their chindi, their ghost, away, where it can't hurt nobody."

"Oh," Kat said.

"The other two sites are unmistakedly occupied," Eve announced.

Janet tapped the screen and took a quick look at images of both of the remaining sites.  "We should talk to the people here," Janet decided, indicating one of the symbols.  "That one.  The grazin' slopes in the area face more or less the right way.  Their main flocks are probably up in the mountains this time of year, but we should still talk to them."

Talk about a wild goose chase, Kat mused.  "That's more than fifteen miles from the closest point on the trail," Kat observed, "and there are no improved or unimproved roads running anywhere in that direction.  What could they possibly know that could help us?"

"You got something better to do?" Janet asked.

As they were dragged along, it occurred to Charlie that she might not remain ungagged much longer.  Better ask a few questions, she decided, gather a little intelligence.  She glanced at Victoria, who was keeping pace with Charlie at the rear of the coffle.  "Uh... I've been remise in my duties as a distressed damsel," Charlie announced.  Victoria gazed at her prisoner, one eyebrow raised in question.  Charlie cleared her throat.  "Ahem... You'll never get away with this."

Victoria laughed.  "Oh, very good," she said.  "Actually, I've every reason to believe I can and will 'get away with this,'" Victoria mused.  "Let's see now... I own the local law, and everyone else of importance in this part of the state."  The coffle paused at one of several large wooden doors set along this stretch of the canyon wall.  "And then there are the facilities," Victoria continued.  Drake hauled the heavy door open, revealing a large workshop with several tables, cabinets, and shelves of paints and brushes.  The parade resumed and the captives were dragged out of the sun and into the relative gloom of the workshop.  "The rennovation work that transformed the old Copperhead Mine was begun in the 90's," Victoria explained.  "That's the 1890's, of course.  Anyway, the secret doors have been in place for about three generations, and I've been very careful to remove all trace of all the work from the county records."  Charlie shuffled along, saying nothing.  "Delores is the only resident servant, and the two days a week when I allow other servants into the Lodge and Canyon, Delores is out of her chains, things are locked up tight, and everything is perfectly... innocent."

They approached the far wall, Drake did something in the shadows (Charlie couldn't see what), and another, secret, heavy stone door opened silently.  It was similar to the one Charlie and Teri had seen in the storeroom, thick as a bank vault door and perfectly camouflaged.  The group paused at the open portal.  Victoria lifted Charlie's chin and gazed into her blue eyes.  "A dozen FBI agents could search the Lodge and Canyon for a month, and find nothing.  Once I have you behind my secret doors, you're all mine.  I can do anything I want to you... and I will."

Despite her desire to mask her feelings and her hopes, Charlie felt a thrill of despair.  How could anyone find them here?  Would they ever be rescued?  Then she remembered her friends, and who they were: Margo, Eve, Kat, Elke (Sweet Elke)... They'll never give up.  They'll find us... eventually.

Victoria had been watching Charlie's face closely, and had seen... something.  "You're a bit of a puzzle, aren't you Ms. Paretsky?"  The petite prisoner said nothing, returning her captor's gaze with careful neutrality.  "I'm going to enjoy playing with you."

And I'm going to enjoy watching when all this crashes down around your oh-so-perfect, freckled ears, Charlie thought, burying her feelings deep, behind a mask of carefully controlled fear, behind a mask of false bravado.  "I enjoy playing," she said, "as you pointed out earlier."

Victoria smiled and dropped her hand to the gag around the chained pixie's neck.  Her strong, slender, fingers toyed with the foam plug, then her hand rose and she slowly, affectionately , brushed Charlie's short, tousled locks from her forehead.  "My games with you will be... one-sided," she purred, "until I know you better... until I've had a chance to take you apart... and put you back together again."  A flash of genuine fear crossed Charlie's face, fear she couldn't hide.  Victoria laughed and nodded to Drake.  The prisoners' leashes jerked taut one after the other, and the parade continued, through the secret door.

Two locked gates of thick, iron bars and what felt like a half mile of winding, turning, stone passageways later, the coffle approached a door of thick timbers bound in iron bands.  Drake unlocked the door and the group entered, finding themselves in a large, rectangular, stone chamber, dimly lit by industrial fixtures protected by heavy iron grills.  The front quarter of the chamber held a pair of large, antique cabinets, and was separated from the rest by a wall of thick, closely spaced, iron bars.

Victoria walked to one of the cabinets, opened a drawer, and produced several coils of cotton rope.  She then smiled, closed the drawer, and slowly approached Jessie.  "Do you like it?" she asked with a gloating smirk, gesturing at the antechamber around them and the main chamber beyond the bars.  "It's all for you."  Jessie took an involuntary step back.  Instantly, Drake was behind the bound teenager, her left hand clutching Jessie's tousled, red hair, the right untying the rope linking the captive to Teri's collar.  Drake's left hand tightened and twisted in the teen's locks, and Jessie winced and mewed through her terrycloth gag.  "I was saving it as a surprise," Victoria explained, ignoring Jessie's distress, "for your twentieth birthday."  Drake held Jessie in place while she tied a deft, one-handed hitch in Teri's neck rope, linking the archeologist (and therefore Charlie) to the iron bars.

Victoria unlocked a stout gate set in the wall of bars and swung it wide, then Drake thrust Jessie inside with a rough shove.  Charlie and Teri exchanged a worried glance, then shuffled to the bars and gazed between.  Jessie was standing in the middle of a large space, slowly turning and examining the furnishings around her, fear clearly etched on her freckled, gagged face.  Victoria stepped through the gate and dropped the coils on a waist-high table of heavy timbers.  She idly toyed with one of the several, stout iron rings dangling from flush mounts around the edge of the table.  When she looked up, she found Jessie twisting in her tight rope bonds, the captive's attention fixed on the menacing table.

"There's a chair, too," Victoria said, pointing to the opposite corner.  Jessie (and her watching fellow prisoners) turned to find a structure of equally stout timbers, festooned with rings and other tie points, but with a very minimal seat, little more than a narrow plank set on edge.  As Jessie gazed at the chair, Victoria stepped behind the prisoner and grabbed the bound teenager, holding her close.  Jessie shuddered and squirmed in Victoria's intimate grasp.  "It was going to be so... delicious," Victoria murmured.  "I was going to take you shopping in Phoenix and Tuscon, for clothes for you to start University."  Jessie mewed through her gag as Victoria's hands began roaming over the nude teen's bound body.  "And then I was going to invite you down here," Victoria continued, "a few days before you were set to leave for school.  You'd be dressed in one of your new outfits..." Victoria clutched Jessie's hair with her strong, right hand, turned Jessie's head and locked eyes with her cousin.  "And then Drake and I would strip you, and bind you... and your new, very different future would begin... as my permanent prisoner."

Charlie started to say something, but bit her lower lip.  What could she say?  Poor kid.

Victoria used her fingers to comb Jessie's hair away from her gagged face.  "And why would I do such a horrible thing to my sweet, young cousin?"  Jessie continued gazing into her gloating tormentor's face, fear in her wet eyes.  "I have my reasons," Victoria said coyly, "which I'll explain... in a year or two."  Defiance began warring with fear in Jessie's gagged, freckled face.  Victoria took a step to the side and again put her arms around Jessie's naked body.  The prisoner struggled, but bound and hobbled, was unable to fend off Victoria's grasp.  "Easy, Jess," Victoria said with an amused smile, "I just want to give you a tour.  Don't you want to see your new home?"

Nostrils flaring and eyes angry, Jessie allowed herself to be shuffled around the chamber.  "Let's see now," Victoria said, "you've seen the bondage table and chair..."  Jessie found herself before a wooden post, about a foot in diameter, solidly set into the floor and ceiling of the chamber.  Iron rings were set into the post, near the top and bottom.  Victoria pushed Jessie up against the post, face first, then leaned close against the mewing captive's back, crushing Jessie's stomach and breasts against the smooth wood.  "This is your own, personal whipping post," Victoria explained, then leaned even closer and nibbled the lobe of Jessie's right ear.  "It's also useful for binding you against it in various positions... so tight you can't twitch," she murmured.  Jessie kicked back with her right foot, but was brought up close by her hobble and failed to connect.  Victoria laughed.  "Let's see where good little girls get to sleep," she said, and hauled Jessie away from the post.  They approached a wooden door set in the back wall of the inner chamber.  One hand in Jessie's hair, Victoria unlocked the door and opened it.

Charlie and Teri jostled  and shuffled to the side, straining to see what was behind the new door.  Charlie accidently bumped Teri's knee against one of the bars before them.  "Sorry," she whispered.  Teri turned and gazed at her diminutive friend, sorrow shining in her eyes above her gag.  "Poor kid," Charlie said.  Teri seemed slightly confused, then Charlie pointed her chin towards Jessie.  Teri sighed behind her gag and nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, Drake grabbed Charlie and clamped her right hand over the chained prisoner's mouth.  "Victoria finds your babbling entertaining," she hissed.  "I, on the other hand, have no interest in anything you have to say, no matter how amusing, understand?"  Charlie nodded behind the hand-gag, as much as Drake's strong, thin fingers would allow.  Drake smiled and gave Charlie's left nipple a savage pinch with her free hand.  Charlie winced, blinking back tears.  "Good," Drake said in a hoarse whisper, "now, shut... up."  She gave the petite prisoner's nipple a last twist, then shoved Charlie against the bars.

Charlie recovered quickly.  She was more than a little miffed, but wasn't stupid enough to challenge Drake's control; however, nothing could prevent her from harboring rebellious thoughts. Bitch!

Back in the main chamber, the wooden door had revealed a second door, this one a gate of iron bars.  Within, all could see a thin palette on a narrow bed of heavy timbers and a folded blanket.  A thick iron collar lay on the blanket, linked by a heavy chain to an iron ring set in the far wall.  A covered chamber pot and a clay water jug completed the furnishings.  "The bedclothes are quite expensive," Victoria said.  "Antique horse blankets.  They'll keep you nice and warm."  Victoria ran her right hand over Jessie's bare shoulders.  "A little scratchy, maybe."  Jessie squirmed away, and Victoria again grabbed her by the hair.  "You'll find out soon enough, but not tonight.  Tonight you get punished... for being rude to our guests, and for making me rush my plans... for ruining your surprise."

Victoria closed the outer door to Jessie's sleeping cell, and dragged the teenage captive back to the vicinity of the bondage table.  She tripped Jessie to the floor, knelt, and began untying her young cousin's hobble.

As soon as Jessie's ankles were free, the redheaded teen rolled, braced herself against her bound wrists, and kicked out with her right foot towards her cousin's head.  Victoria reacted quickly, and only part of the blow connected.  She stepped back, rubbing her jaw, smiling evilly.  Jessie lay on the cold stone floor, panting through her gag, twisting in her bonds, and glaring defiantly.  "Good," Victoria said after several seconds.  "I want the breaking of your spirit to be the sweet, slow, work of months."  Jessie continued struggling, but her defiant gaze wavered.  Victoria stepped to the table and began sorting the coils of rope.  "I'm going to tie your ankles," she said.  "It can be now, or after I let Drake whip you for one hour."  Fear flashed across Jessie's gagged face, then her expression became more... resigned.

"Ankles together," Victoria ordered.  Jessie lay back and followed her cousin's command.  "Maybe next time," Victoria called to Drake, then smiled and knelt beside the now compliant teen.  Over the next several minutes, Victoria applied rope to Jessie's ankles, above and below her knees, and around her thighs; then augmented the ropes already binding the captive's upper body, adding tight bands above, below, and criss-crossing between Jessie's breasts.  Finally, a long coil cinching and hitching all of the bonds tightly together from Jessie's freckled shoulders to her big toes was applied, completing the task.

Charlie sighed as Victoria stepped back and gazed down at the now very thoroughly bound Jessie, watching the teenager twist and writhe in her new condition.  Victoria knows her stuff, Charlie mused.  She knows how to tie somebody up.  Every motion caused Jessie's ropes to slacken slightly in some places, and tighten in others.  Charlie knew (from experience), that such an arrangement got very uncomfortable, very fast, and if she was left that way for hours...  Charlie shuddered.  Poor kid.

Smiling pleasantly, Victoria walked to the far wall of the inner chamber.  Set low into the rough stone, several feet to the right of the door to the sleeping cell, was a small iron door, little more than two feet square.  It had a heavy iron hinge on one side and a thick bolt secured by an antique padlock on the other.  A crude bas-relief of a human skull was cast in the door.  The eye sockets were pierced by two small holes.  A row of deep, narrow slots pierced the grinning mouth.  Victoria knelt to open the padlock.  "You like it?" she asked, indicating the door.  "I found it in a ruined crematorium in a quaint little village near Guadalajara."  Jessie lifted her head, trying to see.  Her efforts caused the ropes bissecting her crotch to loosen, and the ropes framing her breasts to tighten and pinch.

Its hinges squealing in protest, the door opened in Victoria's hand.  It was indeed thick and very heavy, and it could be seen that the small holes in the skull's eyes and the slots in its mouth went all the way through.  Victoria reached inside the revealed, small, dark, roughly square opening and pulled on a handle.  An iron table rolled out on sliding, telescoping brackets.  The bed of the table was a grid of closely spaced iron bars.  Everything was dark red with rust and shrouded in cobwebs.

Victoria walked over to Jessie, placed one hand in the ropes between her breasts and began dragging her towards the iron table and open door.  Jessie mewed and struggled, but was unable to prevent Victoria from hefting her onto the table and rolling her onto her back.  Bound feet pointing into the gaping darkness of the opening, Jessie tried to twist from Jessie's grasp.  Victoria laughed, straddled the table and her ex-ward, and settled her tightly jean covered seat on Jessie's chest.  Jessie complained through her gag, but was thoroughly pinned by her cousin's weight.  Victoria leaned close and took Jessie's head in her hands.  "I try to keep the spiders out of there," she said, nodding towards the opening, "but they seem to like the place."  She then turned Jessie's head, and removed her gag.  Jessie worked her jaw, licked her lips, and and glared up at Victoria, who leaned close and began straightening Jessie's tangled hair with her fingers.  "No begging?" Victoria asked with a teasing voice.  "No outraged demands to be released?"

"Shut up!" Jessie growled angrily.  "You're a psycho, you—M'MMPGH!"

Victoria had jammed the wet terry cloth back into Jessie's mouth, holding it in place with one hand, but she made no move to tie its ends.  "My, my, what a cranky little girl," she cooed, then grinned at Drake.  "Let's use one of your gags, okay darling?"

Drake opened a drawer in one of the cabinets and rummaged trough the contents, then tossed Victoria a doubled strap.  Victoria did a deft, one handed catch, and held the gag before Jessie's wet, darting eyes.  The narrow strap closed with a double-tongued roller buckle, and riveted in the center, between its two halves, Jessie beheld a ring, wrapped and stitched in tight leather.  "Good choice," Victoria remarked, jerking the cloth from the bound teenager's mouth and instantly replacing it with the ring.  It snapped behind Jessie's back teeth, wedging the captive's jaws open.  Pursing her lips in concentration, Victoria carefully tightened and buckled the strap, then leaned back.

Jessie whined and tossed her head.  "Keep that tongue nice and active," Victoria advised, "and you might keep the spiders out of there."  Jessie bucked her lower body, and tried to kick her bound legs, but her older cousin's weight kept her securely pinned to the table.  Victoria leaned close and kissed Jessie full on her ring-gagged lips, using her hands to steady the struggling teenager's head.

Despite the veil of comingling, red hair, Charlie could see Victoria's lips and cheeks moving.  Yuk, Charlie thought, tongue!

Victoria lept off her cousin's body, and before the bound teen could react, slid the table into the dark, gaping opening.  Charlie's last sight of Jessie was the unfortunate prisoner's upside-down face and wide eyes as the iron door was closed with a hollow clang.  Victoria fitted the padlock to the door and snapped it closed.  She then gazed at Drake and the remaining prisoners, one hand flat on the iron, bas-relief skull of the door.  "It's a small chamber," she explained in a matter-of-fact voice, "little more than a coffin."  She cocked her head to the side, listening.  "I can just hear her," she announced.  "Can you?"

Drake shook her head.

Charlie could hear nothing.  She swallowed and said nothing.  Poor kid, she thought.

Victoria stood, brushed her jeans with her hands, then stepped through the iron gate and into the antechamber.  Drake locked the gate behind her and began untying Teri's leash from the bars.  Victoria looked into Charlie's eyes.  "Nothing clever to say?" she asked with a chillingly warm smile.  Charlie swallowed and shook her head.  "Good," Victoria purred.  "Now, let's find something interesting to keep you two entertained, shall we?"