by Van   © 2003
—Chapter 9
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Bess lifted her head and gazed out the nearest window.  By the position of the sun she guessed it was... early afternoon?  The kitchen wall clock was available, but she was too lazy to move the several yards necessary to be able to read its face.  Besides... there were other... much more pleasurable tasks requiring her strength.

Jennifer was still tightly strapped in the inescapable leather harness Bess had placed her in approximately an hour and a half earlier, and was still on the hardwood floor of her studio; however, she was now helplessly pinned on her back, her tucked and bound legs splayed and held wide by Bess' forearms.  The narrow strap that had formerly cleaved her sex was now loosened and tucked out of the way. The tall, tan, athletic brunette writhed weakly in her bonds, rolled her harnessed and gagged head on the hard floor, and forced moaning sighs past the rubber ball filling her mouth and the tight, thin, leather flap sealing her lips.  Her skin was slick with sweat, the single strand of hair not bound in her ponytail plastered to her gleaming face.

Bess used her fingers to part her prisoner's labia, pausing to savor the crinkled folds of flesh, slick and glistening, flushed and pink.  "Have you rested enough, slave?" Bess asked, then gave Jennifer's sex a languid lick, using the tip of her tongue to tease the weakly writhing captive's clitoris.  Jennifer sobbed through her gag and slowly shook her head.  "Oh goodie," Bess sighed, deliberately misconstruing her captive's negative reaction.  "I know you're tired... so we'll take it nice and slow.  'Third time's the charm!'"

Fifteen minutes (and one crashing orgasm) later, Bess was busy unbuckling Jennifer's bonds.  Her prisoner, for all practical purposes, was in a post-orgiastic coma, limp and languid, her breathing deep and even, her eyes closed.  Bess started with Jennifer's wrist and thigh cuffs, then rolled her dozing lover onto her stomach and released her elbow cuffs, and finally her waist belt and collar.  "There," Bess said with a gloating smile as she reached for Jennifer's head harness.  "Hold still and I'll— Hey! "

The nude, sweat soaked, and (supposedly) exhausted ex-prisoner had erupted from her prone position, grabbed her captor, lover, and rescuer, and had rolled on top, pinning Bess on her back and her arms at her sides with her strong, tan thighs and the weight of her flushed, glistening body.

Bess struggled weakly, her eyes locked with her former captive, as Jennifer reached behind her neck and began unbuckling the harness caging her head.  "Don't tell me, let me guess," Bess purred.  "Now I get to wear the harness again?"

Jennifer finally succeeded in unbuckling enough of the headstall that she could pull it forward and remove it completely, gag and all.  "Yeeeagh!—that feels good," she sighed, then tossed the harness to the side, and stretched luxuriously.  Then, smiling down at Bess, she leaned forward and placed her hands on the floor, to either side of the grinning captive's head.  "I suppose I could strap you up, to keep you out of mischief," she said, "but I think instead I'll just take a shower."  She leaned even closer and kissed Bess on the forehead.

"I don't know whether to be relieved... or disappointed," Bess whispered.

Jennifer laughed, kissed Bess again, then, still straddling Bess' prone body, slowly, gracefully stood.  She gazed down at Bess and stretched again, reaching for the ceiling, then slowly... deliberately... lowered her arms and rolled her shoulders.  "What are you staring at?" she asked, still looking down.

Bess smiled coyly.  "I see England, I see France," she whispered, "I see Jennifer's 'Georgia O'Keeffe.'"

Jennifer grinned and shook her head sadly. "You need to work on your rhyming skills," she muttered, and sauntered towards the bathroom; tall, nude, and fluidly graceful.  

"Hey!" Bess called after her, easing herself up onto her elbows.  "You never heard of free form poetry?"
—Chapter 9
Maggie was working at the desk in her office, her palette computer jacked into one of her desktop workstations so she could use its power to refine her preliminary sketches for the "Training Lab" set.  Her basic idea was rapidly evolving into a rather squat piece of furniture, sort of a cross between a gynecologist's examining table and an electric chair.  Maggie would prefer it not have padding (for dramatic purposes), but she left provisions in the design for thin pads that could be snapped in place (if it was decided they were needed.)

Maggie was utilizing one of her favorite tricks.  All the Star Ranger sets and props she was designing were based on the "Golden Ratio," 1.6180 to 1.  The starship sets, props, even their uniform paraphernalia reflected triangular and rectangular proportional relationships based on the "magic number of the Greeks."  This gave them an elegant, pleasing, familiar appearance.  The Slaver designs, on the other hand, were all based on the arbitrarily chosen ratio of 1.47 to 1.  They all looked consistent, but subtly... wrong (and thus alien.)

She was preparing to do a photo-realistic rendering of the current design... when she became aware of a quiet buzzing noise.  She turned and looked out the window wall.  Emerging from the woods and crossing her field of view was a quadrunner.  Even at this distance she recognized the driver as Jennifer (in leather jacket and jeans) and the passenger behind as Bess (in a slate blue windbreaker and black pants.)  They were headed for the pedestrian gate at the back of the hill.  

Maggie smiled and continued working.  Five minutes later Bess sauntered into the office with Jennifer at her heels.  Maggie didn't turn (but she could see their reflections in her monitor.)  "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow morning," she said.

"Duty calls," Bess muttered.

Maggie turned and smiled.  "Jennifer," she purred, and the smiling brunette nodded.  She then turned her attention to Bess.  "Nice outfit."

Bess smiled.  "Jennifer and Jane have excellent taste," she said.  "But if you're waiting for me to strip, forget it."

Maggie laughed.  "I can always call Boom-Boom," she suggested.

"I've already talked to Ms. Canon today," Bess said.  "At the moment she's more concerned about unpaid accounts than pampering the egos of spoiled artistes."

Maggie blinked in surprise.  "What unpaid accounts?  She knows how I work.  Everything gets paid... eventually."

"Broadside Studios isn't the federal government," Bess muttered.  "Unpaid bills lead to lawsuits.  You've been given a Star Fox development account, so you have to play by the rules.  Where are your invoice files?"

Maggie smiled at Jennifer.  "Isn't she just the cutest thing when she takes charge like that?" the grinning redhead asked, and opened one of her desk drawers.

Bess looked inside and found a jumble of unsorted, loose, randomly tossed papers.  "I've seen neater trash cans," she sighed.  "Well... I might as well get started."  She reached for the top papers, but Maggie slammed the drawer.  "Hey!" Bess complained.  "Watch the fingers!"

"Sorry," Maggie purred (her infuriatingly smug demeanor belying her words.)  "You can start on that later.  There's a desk and computer in your room.  I've already given you access to the house system, and my Star Fox files.  I assume you already have access to Broadside Studios' intranet?"

"Room?" Jennifer demanded.  "You've put her up in one of the guest rooms?  Why not the guesthouse?"

"There's nothing wrong with my guest rooms," Maggie responded.

Jennifer turned to Bess.  "The guesthouse is really nice.  It has a window wall facing a really pretty forest valley and a cute little garden and patio, and there's a kitchenette, full bath with a jacuzzi—"

"I said there's nothing wrong with where she is," Maggie interrupted, and was ignored.

"It's part of the hilltop complex," Jennifer continued, "but isolated.  And the best part..."

"Yes?" Bess prompted her friend, enjoying Maggie's discomfort.

Jennifer continued.  "It has solid bolts on all the windows and doors..."  She turned to face Maggie, a coy smirk on her face.  " keep the riffraff out.  I'll help you move in."

"Oh, all right!" Maggie huffed.  "She can have the damn guesthouse.  There's a desk and computer in there too."

"Where's Janey," Jennifer asked.  "I need to have a few words with her."

"Why?" Maggie asked.  "I'm sensing something beyond the usual sisterly concern."

Jennifer explained about Jane's binding and gagging of Bess, emphasizing the tightness and cruelty of the ropes she had placed on their (Maggie and Jennifer's) house guest.

"It wasn't that bad," Bess mumbled.

"Poor jealous little Punkie," Maggie muttered under her breath, smiling and shaking her head.  "It sounds to me like Bess is the one who needs a chat with your brat sister."  She turned to Bess.  "You'll find her in quiet meditation in the central court garden.  Follow the hallway to the end, turn left, then follow the daylight to the central court.  You can't miss it... or her."  She opened a desk drawer and tossed Bess two items.  

Bess caught them one by one.  The first was a small plastic jar labeled "Extra Strength ICY HOT," a balm for soothing sore muscles.  The second was a plastic tube of "SOLARCAINE with Aloe," another balm, this time for minor burns, sunburns, and light scrapes.

"You'll need one or both of those," Maggie purred, "now run along.  Jennifer and I have to talk."

Confusion (and curiosity) on her face, Bess smiled at Jennifer, then turned to leave.

"One last thing," Maggie called after her.  "You can take off her gag, but do not untie her."

"Yes ma'am," Bess answered.  "...unless she's in pain, of course," she whispered in Jennifer's ear as she passed.

Jennifer touched Bess' shoulder and whispered back.  "She can take a lot, a lot more than you'd think.  Let Maggie 'rescue' Janey, unless whatever she's done to her is really extreme.  Your call."

Bess smiled and gave Jennifer a quick kiss, then left.

Jennifer turned back to face Maggie, and found the redhead leaning back in her chair and grinning.  "Well, well, well," she purred.  "I do believe... Jennifer's-got-a-girlfriend!  Jennifer's-got-a-girlfriend!"

Jennifer blushed and put her hands on her hips.  "Shuddup!" she muttered in a husky voice.

Maggie laughed, rose from her chair, and gave the taller brunette a tight hug... which Jennifer returned.  "She's really something," Maggie whispered.

"She is that," Jennifer agreed.  "Don't jinx things with your smart remarks, okay?  Bess and I are friends.  We don't know where things will lead... not yet."

"I'll be good," Maggie promised, then crooked her left arm through Jennifer's right and gestured down the hallway towards the kitchen.  "C'mon," she urged.  "I have some cool stuff to show you.  You are staying for dinner.  I insist."

"Yes ma'am," Jennifer sighed, and let herself be led away.
—Chapter 9
Bess made her way through Maggie's earth-sheltered mansion.   I'm way overdue for a tour of this place, she mused as she followed the daylight to a window wall facing what was unmistakably the "center court" Maggie had mentioned.  She looked through the glass into the enclosed garden beyond—and gasped!

Nude and helpless, Jane was bent forward and bound over a wooden post.  It was as if she were touching her toes, but tight ropes on her wrists and ankles made the pose permanent.  Her mouth was stuffed and cleaved by cotton bandanas; her face half-hidden by the tousled mop of her short brown hair.  Her toes were balanced on an overturned flowerpot, the muscles of her calves and legs straining.  Worst of all, her firm, round rump was an angry pink.  A riding crop was tossed to the side and it was clear what had happened: Maggie had whipped Jane's beautifully exposed, posed, and pinioned rear end.

As Bess watched, Jane slowly lifted her head, shook her bangs from her face, rolled her shoulders (probably trying to shift the position of her breasts, which were squashed and flattened against the hard wood of the post), tugged on her crossed and bound wrists, then lowered her head again.  Poor kid, Bess mused, feeling her residual anger drain away.

Bess found a sliding door and entered the courtyard.  Jane heard the door open, lifted her head, and glared at Bess as she approached.  Bess reached behind the prisoner's head and fumbled with the knot of her gag.  The stiff cotton finally surrendered to Bess' strong fingers, and she pulled the stuffing from Jane's mouth.  She took a step back and watched as Jane licked her lips, worked her jaws, and continued to stare at her rescuer.

"That's my jacket," Jane growled.

Bess laughed, unzipped the jacket and indicated the white cotton underneath.  "I believe this is your blouse as well," she said.  "The tights are Jennifer's, the sandals are Maggie's, and I'm not wearing any undies.  You'll get your stuff back... assuming Maggie hasn't burned all my clothes or something."  Bess settled to the ground and crossed her legs.  "And speaking of Maggie..."

Jane pulled on her bonds, grimacing as she squirmed on the small pillow that Bess could now see was between her tummy and the top of the post.  "What about Maggie?" the prisoner mumbled.

"What leads you to believe I have any interest whatsoever in Maggie Kilborne... other than as the production assistant assigned to work with her on the Star Fox project?"

Jane stared at her bound wrists, slowly twisting and tugging against the tight ropes.  "She tied you up, and..."

"She tied me up.  I was helpless and had nothing to say about it..."  Bess reached down and picked up the bandana that had cleaved Jane's lips, briefly held it before her own mouth, then tossed it aside.  "...sometimes quite literally.  Seriously, Jane... I have no romantic interest in Maggie."

There was a long pause... with Jane continuing to pull on her wrist bonds...  "Well..." the prisoner muttered.  "You sure?"

"Promise," Bess answered.  "Now... Jennifer's another matter."

"Oh, you can have her," Jane said, flipping the hair from her face (again.)

Bess smiled, leaned forward, and began untying the ropes lashing Jane's bound ankles through a steel ring set in the base of the post.  "Thank you," she said as she worked.  "Maggie said I wasn't to untie you, but I can't leave you like this."

"Maggie said no?  Well than don't."

"How long have you been like this?" Bess muttered.  "Wait!  Don't answer.  It'll only make me mad."

Janet squirmed in her remaining bonds and continued to complain.  "Maggie said no!"

Bess finally released Janet's ankles from their ring, and untied the rope binding them together.  Next, the prisoner's wrists were released from the post, but they remained crossed and bound.  "I'm taking you down off this thing, and that's it!" she barked.  "But I tell you what: I'll keep you tied up and helpless... and that way Maggie can come rescue you... Okay?"

"Rescue me?  Ow!"  The naked captive shuddered and grimaced as Bess helped her straighten up and climb off the post.  Her stomach was red and flushed marks matching the creases in the pillow that had cushioned her precarious perch were clearly visible on her abdomen.  The still wrist-bound captive's eyes were wet as she rolled her shoulders and twisted her hips.  "Ow," she repeated.  "Well... okay... but you have to make me really helpless.  Otherwise the rescue won't count."

Bess smiled and shook her head, accepting the bizarre logic of the Maggie-Jane relationship.  "Where's a big soft bed I can lash you to?" she asked.

 Janet stood shyly, idly twisting her bound wrists.  "Uh... I'll show you one of the guest rooms," she mumbled, then turned and walked (rather stiffly) towards the far side of the garden.

Smiling (trying not to stare at Jane's red bottom), Bess shook her head and followed.
—Chapter 9
Bess pulled the comforter back from the guest room's queen-size bed, exposing a smooth plane of cool, crisp, ocean blue sheets.  Carefully, gingerly, Jane eased herself onto the bed and crawled on her hands and knees to the center of the mattress, then settled onto her stomach.

"Now remember," Jane said, "you have to tie me up real tight.  You promised."

"Yeah yeah," Bess muttered, "but I'm going to have to find more—"

"Chest of drawers," Jane interrupted.  "Bottom drawer."

Bess opened the drawer in question, and found several neatly coiled hanks of cotton rope.  "Is every room in this madhouse equipped with kidnapping supplies?" she demanded.

"Only the bedrooms," Jane giggled, "...and the kitchen, and all Maggie''s studios and workshops... and..."  She blinked soberly.  "Uh, come to think of it..."

Bess shook her head and rummaged through the hanks of rope.  To the side she noticed a tangle of black, nylon straps.  She pulled them out from under the rope and waved them towards the bed.  "What's this stuff?"

"Huh?  Oh, those are, uh... 'Love Cuffs?'" Jane said.  "Some lame name like that.  Soft velcro cuffs with long straps sewn on."

"They look comfortable," Bess suggested, and carried them to the bed.

Her upper body propped on her bound wrists and elbows, Jane frowned.  "Not those," she protested.  "Rope is better."

"I'm your Cruel Kidnapper," Bess reminded her.  "If I want to bind you with 'Love Cuffs,' I'll do it!"  She wrapped one of the cuffs around Jane's right ankle, making sure the fit was tight and the wide, long, velcro hook and pile bands mated and sealed.  Jane's left ankle was secured next, then the cuffs' long straps were tossed towards the foot of the bed.  Bess then tossed the remaining two cuffs towards the front and stooped to untie Jane's wrists.

"These padded things are for woosies," Jane complained, "and you aren't supposed to untie my hands until you've tied me down."

"I'm not worried about you escaping," Bess purred as she pulled the last of Jane's wrist rope free and tossed them towards the chest of drawers.  "If you give me any trouble... I'll just pop you on the butt."

Jane was suddenly very still.  "I'll be good," she said gravely.

"I thought you might," Bess said with a chuckle, then fitted Jane's left wrist with a cuff... then her right wrist.  She pulled the left cuff's strap around the left bedpost, hauled in the slack, and knotted it around the base of the post near the floor.

"You know how to tie a knot in a strap like that?" Jane asked as Bess walked around the bed and secured her right wrist.  "It can be tricky."

"Horseback riding," Bess answered, giving the right strap a final tug.  "I know how to cinch a strap."

"Okay, I guess you do," Jane conceded, pulling on her right cuff.  "Now you need to—Hey!"

Bess had grabbed the left ankle strap and pulled it (and Jane) taut.  "You said you wanted things tight," Bess said as she hitched and knotted the strap to the footboard base.  The right ankle strap was pulled taut and secured, and now Jane was flat on the bed, face down, arms and legs splayed wide, and pinned in a very businesslike spread-eagle.

Jane tugged on her bonds... and found her position gave her almost no leverage, certainly nowhere near what would be required to defeat the velcro closures of the cuffs.  She turned her head and watched as Bess coiled her former wrist rope and dropped it in the bottom drawer of the chest of drawers, then opened the remaining drawers one-by-one.  "What you looking for?"

"An adapter for your mute button," Bess mumbled.


"A gag," Bess clarified.  "Eureka!"  The top drawer contained a new roll of translucent, inch-wide, medical tape.  "Maggie must buy this stuff by the case."  She ripped a six inch strip free and walked towards the bed.

"More wimpy bondage stuff," Jane complained, but lifted her head and pursed her lips helpfully.  "Wait," she said as Bess sat down on the bed.  "Uh... I'm sorry I was so mean to you at Jen's house," she mumbled.

Bess leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss.  "I forgive you," she said, and held up the strip of tape.

"I'm glad Jen likes you," the prisoner added, and pursed her lips again.

Bess plastered the strip over her prisoner's lips, then followed it with two more, leaving Jane's mouth smoothly sealed from nostrils to chin.  "Peace and quiet at last," Bess sighed, then kissed Jane's taped lips, "and thank you for the kind sentiment."  She then pulled more tape free and wrapped Jane's right wrist cuff with three quick, tight turns, reinforcing (with gross overkill) the cuff's velcro closure.  Jane watched as her left cuff received similar treatment... then her ankle cuffs as well.  "I may be new to all this kidnapping and erotic slave-holding stuff," Bess said as she returned the remaining tape to its drawer, then sauntered back and sat on the bed, "but I have figured out that being totally helpless and beyond even the tiniest glimmer of hope of escape is an important part of the game... right?"

Jane pulled on her doubly secure bonds and nodded, new respect in her blue eyes.  

Bess reached into the pocket of her borrowed jacket and produced the jar of "ICY HOT."  She opened the jar, dipped her fingers in the stiff white goo, set the jar down on the bed, and rubbed her hands together.  "This should make you feel better," she purred, and began massaging the balm into Jane's shoulders and back.  The spread-eagled captive stretched in her bonds, mewed through her gag, and lay her head on the bed, sighing with contentment.  Bess smiled and continued her massage, kneading and pressing the captive's stiff muscles from her arms to the small of her back, then from her upper thighs to her pointing feet.  She carefully avoided her prisoner's pink derrière

Bess then walked to the guest room's bathroom, washed her hands, and returned with a stack of fluffy towels.  She half-unfolded one and placed it under Jane's head, for her to use as a pillow (the bed's actual pillows being too large for Jane's use in her spread-eagled position.)  She unfolded a bath sheet and draped it over Jane's back, then unfolded a second and draped it over Jane's legs and feet.  The captive was thus flat on her stomach, with her limbs flung wide, and only her head, arms, bound hands, and buttocks exposed.

Bess closed the lid on the Icy Hot and placed it on the night stand, then uncapped the "SOLARCAINE" and spread a generous dollop on her hands.  Sitting on the bed, she reached out and gently touched her glistening fingers to Jane's rump.  The captive pulled on her bonds and shuddered... but her eyes remained closed.  Bess proceeded to carefully, lightly coat the dimpled, reddened globes with the soothing balm.  

Mission accomplished, Bess capped the Solarcaine tube and set it next to the Icy Hot jar, then went to the bathroom and washed her hands again.  When she returned, Jane snuggled against the sheets, smiled up at her, and sighed.  Bess smiled back, leaned down, and kissed the captive's tousled mop of brown locks.

Bess walked to the bedroom door, turned, and savored the sight of Jane's pinioned body, covered with soft terry cloth except for her head, arms, hands, and gleaming buttocks.  "One last thing," she said, and Jane lifted her head slightly to listen.  "I know I said I forgive you for tying me up like you did at Jennifer's," Bess continued, smiling sweetly, "but I was lying through my teeth.  Sometime, when you least expect it..."  Bess blew the prisoner a kiss, and pulled the door closed.

Jane stared at the closed door for several seconds, then giggled behind her tape-gag, snuggled her head against the soft towel cushioning her head, and closed her eyes.
—Chapter 9
Bess made her way through the house, looking for Maggie and Jennifer.  She heard noise from the direction of the kitchen, and walked that way.  She reached the doorway, and gasped.

Maggie and Jennifer were at the kitchen's island, and both were dressed in bizarre costumes: leather thigh boots and body harnesses over what amounted to two-piece swimsuits.  Jennifer's ensemble was dark brown leather and cerulean blue silk; Maggie's rust leather and emerald green silk.  Some sort of weird sidearms were holstered on their hips.  Maggie had a tiara-like headband with dangling gold beads across her brow, and Jennifer's hair was swept back and clipped at the nape of her neck.

Bess smiled.  She recognized the outfits from studio sketches.  They were 'Slaver's Guild' costumes.  "I take it Boom-Boom had Wardrobe send you a box of goodies?" she asked Maggie.

Maggie paused in the act of chopping vegetables and pointed at Bess.  "A Star Ranger!  Grab her, evil minion!"

Jennifer stepped behind Bess and grabbed her by the elbows.  "How come I'm the evil minion?" the brunette muttered.

"It's my house and my assorted chicken pieces and the packages from Boom-Boom were addressed to me," Maggie explained.

"Chicken?" Bess asked.

"We're invited to dinner," Jennifer explained.

"How come I'm the captured Star Ranger again," Bess demanded, a wry smile on her lips.  "I thought we were past all this?"

Maggie unzipped Bess' borrowed jacket and began unbuttoning her borrowed blouse.  "Well, Jennifer's not in the mood and Punkie's on postal duty," Maggie responded.

"Punkie?" Bess asked.

"Maggie's pet name for Janey," Jennifer explained.

"Anyway," Maggie continued, "that leaves you."  By this time Bess' jacket and blouse were peeled off her shoulders, leaving her breasts fully exposed.  Maggie motioned for Jennifer to turn her prisoner, and Jennifer spun Bess around and maintained her hold on Bess' upper arms.  The 'evil minion' and 'Star Ranger' locked eyes and smiled.  "Hold her still," Maggie instructed, and began binding Bess' elbows together with white cotton rope.  Next, the jacket and blouse were tugged off Bess' arms and the captive's wrists were crossed and bound.  Finally, her borrowed tights were pulled down her legs, her sandals removed, the tights pulled over her feet, and her ankles hobbled about a foot apart with more rope.

"By the way," Bess said, looking down at Maggie's nearly naked pale, lightly freckled back as the 'Head Slaver' tightened the final knot of her hobble.

Maggie smiled up at her now naked prisoner.  "Yes?"

"I took 'Punkie' off that post you had her lashed to."

Maggie stood and rummaged for an additional length of rope.  "Spoilsport!  What did you do with her?" the grinning redhead demanded as she tied a slip knot in the rope, dropped the resulting loop over Bess' head, and handed the free end to Jennifer.

Bess tested her bonds.  "I squirreled her away where you'll never find her.  You can torture me all you want, Evil Slaver," she huffed.  "I'll never tell!"

Maggie picked up Bess' clothes, and felt something heavy in the pocket of the blouse.  She reached in... and pulled out the clover-style nipple clamps and connecting chain Bess had placed there (and forgotten.)  "You were saying?" the gloating redhead asked with an evil smile.

Bess theatrical bravado evaporated.  "Uh... no matter what you do to me, I'll never tell you that Jane's tied to one of the guest room beds and taking a nap."

Maggie and Jennifer laughed and the gloating redhead dropped the clamps into a kitchen drawer.  She then opened another drawer and produced a roll of the ubiquitous medical tape, a large foam "Nerf" ball, and a roll of bright blue 'vet-wrap.'

"Uh, Maggie, there's something we need to discuss," Bess said as Jennifer gathered the prisoner's raven hair atop her head (to get it out of the way and to act as a convenient hand grip), and Maggie approached with what was obviously the makings of a quite effective gag.

"Yes?" Maggie inquired as she compressed the ball with her strong, pale fingers and reached for Bess' mouth.

"Safe words," Bess replied.  "We need to—M'mmpfh!"

Maggie had stuffed the ball in Bess' mouth and was tamping it between her teeth with her fingers.  "Safe words?"  She pulled a strip of medical tape free, pinched Bess' lips closed, and plastered the milky rectangle over her mouth.  "Have you been filling her head with this nonsense?" the grinning redhead asked Jennifer.  The first strip of tape was followed by two more, then Maggie reached for the vet-wrap.

Jennifer continued to hold Bess' hair out of the way, and the mewing prisoner's head steady.  She ignored Maggie's question and spoke directly to Bess.  "Funny Face, your safe word is 'cinema,' and if you're gagged, you should hum 'there's no business like show business,' " okay?

Bess nodded her head, as best she could.  Not only was Jennifer holding her by the hair, but now Maggie was pulling tight, overlapping, horizontal bands of vet-wrap over her taped mouth, around her head, and back across her mouth; band, after band, after tight band.  Finally satisfied, Maggie ripped the wrap free from the roll and smoothed her fingers across Bess' stuffed mouth and compressed lips.

"There," Maggie purred, taking a step back.  "All tied up and gagged and helpless."  She reached out and cupped Bess right breast, gave it a gentle squeeze, then gripped the captive's nipple in an authoritative pinch.  "Testing, testing..." she whispered.

Bess rolled her eyes and hummed through her gag—then the hum gained volume and her eyes popped wide as Maggie's pinch tightened.

"Such pretty brown eyes, " Maggie purred, directing her remarks to Jennifer, "don't you think?"

 Jennifer leaned close and embraced Bess from behind, then slapped Maggie's hand away from the captive's breast.  "Very pretty," she huffed, "now stop being such a bitch."

Maggie laughed and walked back to the kitchen island.  "Why don't you help Bess move into the guest house?" she suggested.  "Her bag is still in her current room.  The lazy thing never has unpacked."

Bess snorted through her gag in outrage and Jennifer laughed.  "Seeing as how you clapped her in Slave Mitts minutes after her arrival, " Jennifer noted, "of course she's never unpacked."

"Dinner is at least three hours away," Maggie said.  "I still need to thaw the chicken pieces and I don't see any reason to rush things."  She nibbled a slice of carrot and smiled at her guests.  "You two think you can keep yourselves occupied until sundown?"

Jennifer laughed and hugged Bess close.  "We'll think of something," Jennifer muttered,
and the naked, bound and gagged prisoner blushed prettily.   Smiling broadly, Jennifer grabbed the end of Bess' leash, released her hug, and gave the rope a tug.  "Come with me, Star Ranger Scum!" she growled, and led her captive away.

Maggie returned to chopping vegetables.  "The Star Ranger uniforms are in my office!" she called after her disappearing guests.  "I expect Bess to be dressed for dinner!"

"Yes, Glorious Leader!" Jennifer shouted back over her shoulder, thumping her breast in a barbaric salute.

Maggie smiled as she began peeling a potato.  Punkie is gonna look so cute as a Star Ranger Ensign, she mused.
END of
—Chapter 9

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