Author's Note:This is a story of a bondage loving attorney who occasionally becomes a damsel in distress
Update (07/31/11) - The continuing saga of a comely attorney who is crowned Hostage of the Year, (well actually Runner Up). If the Hostage cannot perform her duties, her Runner Up ...
Chapter 1 - Bait
DATE: NOVEMBER 10, 2007
TIME: 2:16 AM
LOCATION: DAVIES NATATORIUM
Raika Élan, Attorney-At-Law, floated passively in the water. A wet suit encased her body. Actually, the counselor wore two wetsuits and a large dildo filled her anus. The "full Aldridge" her captor quipped. Putting on this get up was difficult, but the added warmth slowed hypothermia in the frigid water. The rubber clung to her perky breasts as they heaved with each labored breath. Raika feared that each inhalation may be her final one. Despite the experience of her many misadventures, this time she confronted overwhelming dread.
She understood her role as bait. A trip wire connecting the white phosphorus explosives to the entry door would engulf a prospective rescuer in flames. She could envision her paramour and co-conspirator, Aimee, speeding to her. Her captor planned for Raika to witness her partner's immolation. Then Raika would slowly expire due to asphyxiation while mourning her lover's death.
Raika was inescapably trapped underwater in a pool ten feet deep. Her tormentor tauntingly fixed her head inches from the surface. A full face scuba mask provided oxygen to the comely abductee. The water was cleaned and chlorinated so that Raika could see through the surface to the door of the abandoned natatorium.
The female attorney profited from an impeccable professional reputation. She founded a prosperous intellectual property law office. Her roster of clients included many of the most innovative in the information technology field. A renowned beauty, Raika Élan Esq., was crowned runner up in a number of pageants during her teenage years.
Of Japanese/Hawaiian ancestry, Raika Élan stood five feet two inches tall and weighed one hundred and two pounds. She was blessed with a 34-25-35 hourglass figure, a protruding ass, and shapely legs. Measured at a D-cup, her gravity defying rack allowed her to rock it GI Jane style when it suited her whim. The form-fitting neoprene wetsuit accentuated these attributes. Her oval face boasted full rounded cheeks, high cheek bones, pouting lips, a button nose, a winsome smile and big brown eyes. Raika's moderately tanned smooth skin was her most striking feature. Her chestnut brown hair, cut to medium length, matched the color of her eyes. All of these pulchritudinous features were presently obscured by the scuba gear, yet her attractiveness remained palpable.
A latex single glove compressed the arms and buckled straps merged the legs of the hapless barrister. A diabolical set of weights and buoys held her ineluctably motionless. The ring at the end single glove was anchored to a large weight at the bottom of the pool. Similarly, a chain ran from her belted ankles to the bottom. Another set of chains, attached to buoys, held her torso in place at the waist and below her breasts. A ring on top of her head was attached to a buoy on the surface and a weight on the bottom. Both of her nipples, uncovered by the neoprene, were separately clamped and connected to buoys on the surface of the pool. These connecting chains reached absolute tension. The forces pulling Raika both up and down rendered her completely immobile in a backward arching position, like an inverted shrimp.
Seemingly unnecessary because her underwater cries would be inaudible on the surface, a large red ball filled her oral cavity. Its purpose was to restrict airflow and extend the oxygen in the four attached scuba tanks. Raika's tormentor had set the perfect trap and she wanted to ensure that Raika survived long enough to witness her lover's demise.
Normally, Raika did not object to being bound and gagged. She was obsessed with restraint since childhood. In games like Cowboys and Indians, she arrogated herself Native American princess and ordered her minions to bring her captured cowboys. Young Raika delighted in tying up her playmates. She laughed hysterically while they struggled in their bonds. But any boy who attempted to turn the tables on her received a black eye.
The tables were turned once. Sharon, a tomboyish yet cute neighborhood rival, waylaid the elfin Raika. Sharon cruelly hogtied Raika with a jump rope and shoved a plush toy in her mouth. Discovering their princess missing, her allies frantically searched the neighborhood. Sharon concealed herself and the restrained girl in a tool shed. Raika found it exciting to be dominated by a girl, especially when Sharon held her down and muffled her mouth when the seekers drew near.
Such feelings were suppressed through her early teen years as Raika found herself the object of many boys' designs. She dated and participated in many normal sexual activities. The young Ms. Élan restricted herself to a vanilla menu and did not attempt much exploration. Aside from her excellent academic record and conspicuous beauty, she was the typical girl next door.
Interestingly, it was intellectual pursuits that reignited her interest in bondage. Highly competitive academically, Raika continuously searched for methods to improve her concentration and imagination. She discovered that tightly wrapping herself in a blanket improved her meditation. As this technique gradually lost its effectiveness, Raika flashed back to the episode with Sharon.
After recognizing that filling her mouth with an object improved her intellectual ruminations, Raika started to experiment with rope, furtively studying the internet for ideas and methods. She became extremely adept at self-bondage. Raika could tie her own elbows behind her back. Nonetheless, her applications were often escapable. Chains, handcuffs, and other mechanical devices did not achieve the same level of stimulation. Moreover, such contraptions were difficult to explain to parents and roommates.
Raika sought to assuage her bondage thirst through a series of boyfriends. She explained her practical need. But the responses were not completely satisfactory. Some refused, others were excited, and some were capable riggers. Nonetheless, a helpless Raika proved too irresistible. Her captors could not keep their hands off her bound body. She appreciated their urges, but Raika needed solitude to reach the requisite mental state. For her, pleasure gave way to achievement. She did well in high school, but truly excelled in college.
Fortunately, her college roommate, Michiko, was quite skillful with rope. Although she deemed Raika's requirements humorous, the roommate acceded to trussing up the desperate Raika. Michiko regularly referred to her as the "bondageable" but others never really understood the truth behind the jest. The two girls made a game of it. Unlike many of her peers, Raika eschewed social activities for her studies.
Every male and many females on campus desperately sought to exchange bodily fluids with her. At basketball games, thousands of eyes fixated on the petite Asian girl, with her ample endowment undulating through dance routines. Her daily runs through campus attracted a trail of leering followers. Raika enjoyed her power over men, but she only dated sporadically.
The object of many suitors, Raika acquiesced to their demands for dates. But when these admirers arrived at their apartment, they were informed by Michiko that Raika had stood them up. Unbeknownst to the male caller, Raika was thoroughly bound and gagged on the other side of the door. All of these suitors were appeased with Michiko's offer as a substitute. The shallow college men accepted the stunningly attractive Michiko as an antidote for their Asian fever.
The tied up Raika was left to her studies. Raika learned to relax into the position in which she was tied no matter how strenuous. The strictness of the tie directly correlated to intellectual efficacy. Not distracted by outside influences and forced to concentrate on her material, Raika's performance soared. As a result, the often captive girl improved her academic performance and obtained a Phi Beta Kappa Key. Her graduation with a degree in Information Technology from a prestigious West Coast school made her family proud.
The arrangement proved advantageous to both parties. Michiko married a scion of a petroleum dynasty, J. Perrywell Norton, she met substituting for Raika. Perry, initially attracted to Raika through her performance in a school production mad cap comedy, eventually fell for the elegant and witty Michiko. Perry and Michiko hit it off on their first date and continued courtship.
Upon graduation, Raika started in international management consulting, as the comely "Asian support chick," who lets the white middle aged salesman do all the talking when she actually performs all the work. Her professional objectives attained, she sought to put her kinky habits behind her.
Events would make those feelings reemerge. While on a project in Mexico, she had the misfortune of being kidnapped. Her kidnapper was a psychopathic brute. Although strictly restrained and muzzled, Raika was not stimulated in his presence. But when he left the poor girl under the care of his female relatives, two older women who perfunctorily cared for their captive, Raika experienced a renewed interest in captivity. These women were not particularly attractive and treated Raika like a sack of potatoes, but a fire was lit inside her. The consensual bondage was a tool but the added element of danger was an endorphin rush not experienced since Sharon's domination of her under the back porch. Raika eventually escaped with the aid of her female captors. But that is a story for another time.
Raika longed to return to academia. She told herself the purpose was pecuniary. Subconsciously, she yearned for her bondage routine. Ms. Élan enrolled at an Ivy League Law School. Her severance package allowed Ms. Élan to live well as a law student. Additionally, she made unorthodox investments in her education. Raika retained numerous dominatrices for regular visits during crucial academic periods. These marathon sessions focused on academic performance. Raika could remain tied for astonishingly long periods of time. For finals, she spent an entire weekend with arms hammer locked in the Ushiro Takate Kote Shibari position. Quizzes on the material were enforced through corporal discipline. Raika's outstanding academic performance attested to their efficacy.
Her present jeopardy was too much for even a thrill seeker such as Raika. Her captor had engineered a fatal scheme to harm not only her but her partner, Aimee. Raika begged for release. Nonetheless, she understood the hopelessness of her position and prayed that her paramour would not come through that door. Raika could face her own demise, but she could not face Aimee's.
Suddenly, she heard a banging on entry door. Fearing that it was Aimee, Raika hoped that the door would not open. She resumed struggling and against her bonds and screaming through the gag, but her position underwater was fixed and no sound could escape to the surface. Unfortunately, pushing the door ajar triggered a conflagration. Submerged underwater, the bound attorney escaped the scorching flames. She was certain her lover had not. As the oxygen depleted, Raika regretted her greed. Salt water streamed behind the mask that protected her from the chlorinated pool. She had never experienced such anguish. As her oxygen depleted, she regretted her greed and reminisced on her disastrous scheme with Aimee.
Chapter 2 - A Burglary
DATE: AUGUST 25TH, 2006
TIME: APPROXIMATELY 5:00PM
LOCATION: IRONWORKS DISTRICT
Aimee DeLigotage was cleaning and drying her rope when her smart phone buzzed. The raven haired beauty with flawless alabaster skin enjoyed boiling, heating and oiling her own hemp. Although she was skilled in many types of restraints, her preference for rope derived from its aesthetics and this process of preparation. Moreover, the use of rope gave more meaning to her vocation and her rope artistry was an extension of her: This is my work.
She had used her alias so long that remembering her real name took a few seconds. The press referred to her as the "Catgirl," but she really did not care for that moniker. Primarily because her exploits had spawned numerous imitators and most people called them all Catgirl. Fortunately, these copy cats would be captured every once in a while and very few knew that she was responsible for most of the major scores accorded to the namesake.
Her father was a mercenary of German ancestry. He styled himself an arch anti-communist primarily to enrich himself in the employ of the CIA. Through various illicit ventures, he amassed a tiny fortune, from which he generously cared for his only child out of wedlock. He was a good father when he was around but he met a mysterious and unfortunate end in Thailand in 1985.
Aimee's mother worked as a renowned dominatrix who catered to the rich and powerful throughout Europe. The movie Matrisse inspired the French citizen to enter the profession. Aimee's father engaged her services. Their professional relationship turned amorous and Aimee resulted. Her parents were fond of Aimee and they kept up the appearance of a family until her father's death.
Because of her itinerant lifestyle, Aimee's mother sent Aimee to be schooled at a convent, in France. Aimee was a good student and excellent athlete but had some discipline problems. She was accused of taking liberties with her fellow students. To the Sisters' dismay, she seemed encouraged rather than dissuaded by strict corporal discipline.
When Aimee turned sixteen, her mother moved her to London. While finishing her education, Aimee studied to be a dominatrix. Her mother's arrest on spurious charges relating to a political scandal caused Aimee to flee to Hawaii. There she continued her training in rope and martial arts. A renowned Oriental Mistress versed Aimee in the Eastern arts and the John Willie style of bondage. She longed for her own Sweet Gwendoline, but not necessarily one who was blonde. Aimee "interviewed" many candidates, both willing and unwilling, over the years, but lacked a suitable match.
She checked her email. It was encrypted as the cash envelope detailed. Aimee typed in the password: "kinbaku" and the text appeared:
"7pm, 732 Elm Street. 5th floor. Bring materials, one to secure."
Aimee recognized 732 Elm a the Bryant Building, a five story office building located on the outskirts of the financial district in a trendy area of converted World War II munitions factories. Now the neighborhood featured numerous condos, night clubs, and offices. The eastern half of the top floor belonged to Élan and Associates, a law firm where she had previously transacted business. The lobby was attended 24/7 so she would have to use an alternate route. Its roof could be reached from a building across the alley. It was a relatively short hop for the former heptathlete.
Aimee donned her burglar uniform: skin tight leather pants, Oriana style motorcycle boots, leather jacket with matching gloves, and a white t-shirt. This outfit highlighted her lithesome, muscular figure. A rigid thermo foam pack, fitted snugly to her back, contained her tools. A soft leather hood for concealing her identity completed the outfit. It was put on and zipped up to reveal only her eyes at the appropriate moment. For everyday wear it was stylishly utilized as a head wrap. In this attire, Aimee could travel relatively unnoticed, a punk rock girl on her way to see a local band, quite a common sight in the city.
Aimee began storing her wares in her pack. "One to secure," in Aimee's mind, meant about three hundred feet of rope cut into various lengths, duct tape and a roll of vet wrap. She filled her pack with these items and other assorted lock picking tools. She needed to keep it light to ensure accomplishing the fifteen foot jump across the alley. As for protection, she strapped on her favorite pocket Glock to her leather clad thigh and concealed a serrated edge in her boot.
At the appointed time, Aimee climbed the fire escape on the building next door, an abandoned warehouse. Aimee performed the leap from rooftop to rooftop without much challenge. Aimee descended from the only opened skylight and encountered an Asian woman in her early thirties. Aimee guessed that she was of mixed descent. Her chestnut brown hair rested on her shoulders. Unaware of the intruder, she viewed her laptop through thin glasses. She boasted almond eyes, a round face, voluptuous lips, which she colored a deep red, very high cheekbones, a tiny nose and flawless tanned skin. Deep in concentration, she suddenly noticed Aimee.
"Ms. DeLigotage I presume? Or should I call you the 'Catgirl?' No you're not here to be insulted. Regardless, you are right on time. I hope you brought plenty of rope," demanded the comely woman who rose from behind her desk and approached Aimee. An impeccably tailored ensemble: shark skin grey suit jacket with matching a mid thigh pencil skirt, perfectly complimented the attorney's figure. Her jewelry consisted of a thick silver chain necklace and silver studs. Five inch black sling back pumps finished the ensemble. Aimee noticed that she walked with the confidence of a powerful person. Surprisingly, when she reached handshake distance she turned away from Aimee and interlocked her fingers behind her back.
"Raika Élan, Attorney at Law. Let's get started. We don't have much time." Raika stood five foot two inches tall. She dipped her knees a bit so that Aimee stood a foot taller. Raika turned her head while her hands remained clasped. Her dark eyes pleaded for cooperation. Suddenly the confident executive adopted a submissive stance which Aimee welcomed. Regardless, Aimee did not relax her demeanor.
"Hold on a second, lady, how do I know this isn't a trap?" Aimee countered. "What benefit comes to me, other than a lovely captive?"
"Beside the ten thousand in cash in the envelope on my desk, your cut will be in the six figures. We can discuss the particulars as you secure me. This has to be a convincing. My assistant can spot a weak job."
Aimee acquiesced, "We'll start with your wrists and then you can explain." She expeditiously reached over her shoulder, retrieving a length of hemp cord from her pack. The burglar had ingeniously fashioned a hole in the pack to enable her to retrieve the coiled ropes. A suitable length for wrists was always loaded to be extracted first.
The Asian nymph counter offered, "Wrists and elbows. I need to be helpless in case anyone interrupts us." Aimee complied. As the first ropes were applied, the captive involuntarily released a quick sigh. Aimee noticed the linkage of Raika's elbows stretching her modest jacket. Its three buttons strained and the compression of arms behind revealed Ms. Élan's rather generous bust, especially for a petite woman. Aimee wanted to test them to determine their natural composition but decided that there would be time for that later.
"I love the feel of the treated hemp against my skin. Where do you buy it?"
"I make my own. It takes a lot of time but I like to get it just right. I love the ritual of boiling, cutting, and drying. But I generally use it on all my captives, you aren't anything special." Aimee prevaricated. Aimee had tied up many attractive women, but she sensed this one was different. Nonetheless, she did not want to let down her guard.
Raika tested her bonds, twisting her shoulders, wriggling her arms, and kinking her wrists in a vain attempt to elude the biting cords. "Nice, firm, yet comfy... It would take me quite a while just to slip out of this simple tie... I definitely picked the right person. The last time wasn't a fluke. I should warn you. Some consider me a female Houdini."
Aimee was not amused. "Whatever. You're just some mouthpiece I waylaid a while back. Ran into you and your lackey by accident. " She started binding the Raika above and below her breasts.
"Ah yes, the perils of working late," the counselor grunted as Aimee clenched the rope underneath her protruding chest. "My assistant and I escaped but it took me two hours to remove her gag so she could undo my knots with her teeth. Enough small talk... I am a patent attorney. This is my firm. Our computer network contains the programming used by some of the leading investment banks. I can't exploit them, but if someone was to steal the algorithms, I could show them how to profit."
"I am interested, money is always a good start -- a little rope play is definitely a bonus."
The attorney, her arms affixed behind her, turned and faced her masked co-conspirator, "Good, let me explain. There is a process called high frequency trading, which uses a millisecond advantage to anticipate trades and profit. Normally it is done by super fast computers. But my client has unknowingly developed a method to siphon off tiny portions of the sums anonymously. If I was to do it from my own computer, I would violate my attorney client relationship. Worse yet, I would get caught. But if someone was to steal the algorithms, by say coming in here and tying me up..."
Raika seated herself on a low back chair at the small conference table in the office. She bent forward and then dangled her arms over the back. Aimee took her cue, quickly securing the woman at the ankles and knees. Raika grimaced a little at the application of the ropes.
"Too tight?" asked Aimee uncharacteristically. Consensual bondage was new to her vocation.
"No this is good. I am flexible and have good circulation. The jacket will help cushion my arms. And it has to be convincing. My assistant will be back in three hours and she has to be certain that I could not extricate myself from this position. On my computer desktop is an icon for the network. Click on it. Then select download files to the external hard drive. A portable external drive is already connected. The "about" file will give you the instructions. If you can operate a computer you can follow the instructions. All you need is internet access to transmit the virus." Aimee complied and the machine started purring and humming.
Raika continued, "The download should take about an hour. You can finish me off. I assume you don't need any direction."
Aimee's suspicions were somewhat satisfied. She eased her guarded demeanor and proceeded with her renowned professional skill. "Normally I don't, but I want to make sure my partner is comfortable... comfortable and secure." Aimee then bound Raika's wrists to her waist through the back of the chair. Then another set of ropes were applied to fasten her to the chair. Each time she tightened a cord, Aimee put her foot on the chair to gain leverage.
The bound barrister babbled on, occasionally grunting due to Aimee's tightening machinations, "The virus is designed to access super... HNNNT!...computers around the world. It will piggyback extremely minute orders onto gargantuan ones -- a ratio of ten cents per million dollars... HNNNT!...An account in the Caymans will receive the profits, ...AHHmmm!... then the funds will be automatically wired through a number of banks around the world. The proceeds will be divided in half and deposited in separate accounts on the Isle of Man. Your account number is listed on the hard drive. Included in the instructions is a power of attorney to transfer ownership of that account to a Gibraltar ... HNNNT!... corporation with a name ...AHH!...of your choosing. Each account should receive a deposit of three to five thousand dollars each day. ... HNNNT!... After one hundred ... HNNNT!... and seventy three days, the programs automatically delete, terminating the cash flow and any record of it. I estimate each of our shares at $640,000."
"Not bad for sitting on my ass for six months. Just like clipping coupons."
Raika tested her bonds. "This is really good, even better than last time. My arms are welded together from elbow to wrist. I can't separate them. This nasty connection to my waist not only accents my figure, but prevents any movement of my wrists." Raika twisted her hips and back. Aimee noticed an erect nipple attempting to pierce through the attorney's suit. An unprofessional thought emerged: Screw the money. I should just take this girl home for the weekend.
Raika continued with her bondage discourse. "The chest harness is as taut as bow strings, but doesn't restrict breathing." Ms. Élan subtly thrust her chest forward for the burglar's appreciation. She wanted to test her captor's reaction. Ms. Élan was truly impressed with her confinement. She was well tied without pain. "They also hold my arms motionless. This is very good." Raika shifted her hips again. "I can move my hips maybe two inches. Maybe after a couple hours of struggling I might be able to move them another inch. My legs are compressed just like my arms. I like the under and over the knee tie. The compression on my upper thighs, the extra cords around my shins. Certainly thorough. The chair and I are almost one."
"...A connoisseur of rope work?" Aimee presumed.
"Yes. I have been bound and gagged by some real experts. I am very picky about how I am rendered helpless. Don't let the professional image mislead you; I'll happily admit to anyone of your talents that I am a rope slut. This may be the best rigging I have ever experienced. It is certainly convincing, yet I could stay this way for hours. We have to do it again sometime."
"Maybe," Aimee resumed her professional distance. "I download the information and wait to receive an encrypted email. Anything else before I gag you?"
"You are sharp, too. But there is one thing. Open my calendar. It's on the desktop and click on the Ms. Rashir item."
"Who is Ms. Rashir?"
"She is a top notch programmer. You'll need her password protocols to make this scam work. But she's a straight arrow and won't do it willingly. I need you to kidnap her. There's a picture of her in the file on my desk. She arrives from Bangalore at eleven tonight. I am supposed to meet her at the airport. But as you can see, I am a little tied up." Raika smiled.
"I will send an email when I have her. It will look like Spam with the tagline 'bondage.'"
"Excellent, except that I get a lot of those. Something with the word snatch... Speaking of snatch, I would love to see that snooty Indian girl trussed like me. You'll find she is a looker. Now gag me good. I have a big mouth for a small woman. You can use my panties. I love the feel of silk against my tongue. And there should be plenty of room to stuff my handkerchief on top of that.
Aimee's knife deftly removed the lawyer's silk underwear from her crotch and plucked the handkerchief from her breast pocket. "Okay this mound of silk goes in your mouth. The handkerchief follows. Some tape holds it in. Finally vet wrap ensures you can't spit anything out."
"My, you are thorough. I am always looking for skillful people like you..."
Suddenly, the entry alarm beeped.
Raika glanced at the security monitor and panicked. "The cleaning woman is early! Put some tape on my lips quick. She will come to my office first. Then you can ambush her." Aimee quickly stuffed her captive's mouth and smoothed tape over her lips.
As predicted, the cleaning woman entered the office. "Ola... Ms Élan!!" she exclaimed. At that moment Aimee approached from behind and stuck a stapler in the woman's ribs. "No me dane," the maid asserted. She assumed the position, on her knees with her hands behind her head.
Aimee escorted the blubbering woman out into the hallway so she could not inspect the scene inside the office. "Me entrego. Átame y amordace. Llene mi boca de un trapo!" the frightened woman blubbered. Aimee did not understand Spanish that well. But she was pretty sure that Átame means tie. The cleaning woman remained in the position as she walked on her knees out the door.
Once out the door. Aimee taped the maid's hands behind her back. She heard something like "Si, Si, Átame, no doler." Aimee flipped the woman onto her back and then straddled her bound prisoner by sitting on her chest. The woman squirmed in fear. She started to scream. Aimee's instant reaction was to sit on her face. This silenced her while Aimee considered a plan of action.
Aimee felt a tingling of pressure in her leather crotch. The captive was swirling her tongue in an attempt to win Aimee's favor! Aimee sat on the woman's chest again and gave her the international SHH! gesture. The prone woman understood.
"That's enough of your noise," Aimee threatened as she grabbed a rag off the cleaning cart and crammed it into the poor woman's mouth. "No doler" she reassured her captive who started to calm down despite the bad Spanish.
Aimee started to review her captive. She was a Mexican woman in her fifties; somewhat plump with full hips and breasts. Her face did not reveal many lines. Her rather large nose seemed out of place. Small streaks of grey accented her jet black hair. She was wearing a plain green maid's uniform with sensible shoes. A red rag filled her mouth and her hazel eyes were wild with dread. One of her bosoms had slipped out of her uniform in the struggle. The woman was inexplicably braless but Aimee admired how her endowment had not succumbed to gravity over the years. Ever the pervert, Aimee groped the poor woman a couple of times as under the pretense of frisking her.
Aimee decided to move the Mexican as far away from Raika's office as possible. Since the offices were in an abandoned factory, there were a few pillars in the office. Aimee grabbed a short stool that the maid used the reach high places and guided the captive to one of the pillars. With her knife she cut the tape from the woman's wrists. The woman started to rub her wrists together. Aimee expeditiously seized her wrists and brought them back behind the post and wrapped them six or seven times with tape. She then forced the woman onto the stool.
Next she passed tape underneath her breasts, around her arms and firmly attached her to the pole. More tape was applied to her legs and arms and waist. Aimee used almost the whole roll. She hoped that no one else would arrive. Another piece covered the maids' eyes. Throughout this process the woman did not spit out the wadding. Aimee fastened it into her mouth with a few strips of duct tape.
Soon the older woman was inextricably linked to the pole. Aimee checked her breathing. She "frisked" her captive a couple of more times. This time there was not any reaction other than a low "mmmm" from the captive that sounded like contentment if Aimee did not know any better. Ultimately, Aimee removed the stool, but her prisoner remained securely affixed in position. The prisoner did not realize she was one foot off the ground.
Aimee returned to Raika's office. Raika had a concerned look on her face. Aimee removed the tape. Raika expelled the packing on her desk. "You didn't hurt her did you? The deal's off if you did."
"You're in no position to make demands. Don't worry. She is just as safe as you. I have her lashed to a post by the break room. She put up bit of struggle, but I calmed her down." Aimee gazed into Raika's deep dark brown eyes that looked black as if swallowing light.
"Thank you, I don't want any innocents harmed and I like that crazy woman." Raika checked the computer screen. "Forty –five minutes until download. We should not have any other unexpected guests."
"Good, I am out of materials."
"I am sure you can improvise. We have a mail room... Where were we?"
"What do I do until it downloads?"
"Finish what you were doing in here. Remember lawyers have big mouths."
"And after that? While I wait for the download?"
"I will do my best to entertain you. As long as I am bound and gagged I am happy... I mean for the ruse."
At that moment, Aimee, lifted up her mask and gave Raika a big wet kiss and groped her heaving endowment. Aimee's fingers squeezed rock hard nipples.
"That was not professional." Raika protested.
"Sorry", the normally confident Aimee was taken aback.
"That's okay. You realize I really can't protest if I am gagged properly."
Raika opened her mouth as wide as possible and Aimee stuffed the full panties into the accepting orifice. Raika's cheeks bulged and she grunted "MORR!" Aimee pulled a white handkerchief from attorney's chest pocket and forced it in with her thumbs. Aimee took her time pushing the last bits behind Raika's teeth. A handy scarf cleaved her lips two times and was snugly knotted behind her head. Raika's mouth was agape but filled with white silk. Her red lips were visible but her teeth disappeared behind the packing. The remainder of black duct tape obscured her lips. Aimee then wound vet wrap around Raika's lower jaw, compressing her hair to her cheeks. All but a few strands were out of her face. Raika looked bug eyed and couldn't blink but Aimee detected a twinkle of appreciation.
Aimee's devious nature decided to apply one last touch. She hitched one last long piece of rope to the elbow tie, passed it under the arms in front of the shoulder and on the nape of the neck then back down the front of the shoulder, under the arm and back to the elbow tie. Then the rope passed under and over at the rope at her nape. Aimee pulled it taut with audible effort. Raika sat even straighter and her aroused nipples were apparent from thirty feet. Raika nodded in approval, trying to keep her cool. But inside she was filled with sensuality.
But Aimee was not done. There was still some six feet of rope left. Aimee wound the end around the wrist tie, completely burying the knot securing her wrists. Then the rope passed underneath the chair and attached to Raika's ankles, pulling her feet underneath the seat. With the remainder of rope she pulled it taut, extending it back to the nape of the neck and tying it off, far away from prying fingers. Raika indicated her artistic appreciation with raised eyebrows. Any other movement was impossible.
Aimee carefully undid the top two buttons on her prisoner's jacket. Raika's breasts were supported by a black d-cup bra. Aimee slid the bra down and started to play, groping sucking and licking. Raika began to moan with delight. Occasionally, a gloved hand slightly separated the compressed thighs to stimulate the clitoris, taint, and anus. Raika's initial frigid demeanor belied a raging passion. The hopelessly tied attorney trembled to Aimee's touch.
Raika came a couple of times, eyes rolling in her head. The sentiment, "She knows how to push my buttons," dominated her thoughts. Raika felt recognized that she was enjoying this a little too much. She had scoffed when others let emotions interfere with commercial endeavors. The aroused attorney strove to remain professional. No such luck. She sensed an attachment to Aimee. Hoping that she could remain under Aimee's control for weeks at a time.
Alas, the download finished and Aimee fingered Raika's nipple, gave a passionate kiss to the counselor's well packed mouth and whispered. "Until next time." Aimee then went down the hall and checked on her other captive. Satisfied, Aimee left through the skylight and immediately left for the airport and her for her appointment with Ms. Rashir. I love my job.
Chapter 3 -Aimee's Javert
DATE: AUGUST 25TH, 2006
LOCATION: ÉLAN AND ASSOCIATES LLP
"Reyes, start filming. I want you capture every bit of this. Tuesday, July 25th, Eleven Thirty Six pm. Address 732 Elm, Fifth Floor, Ms. Raika Élan's office. Subject: Raika Élan, Patent Attorney, her paralegal, Holly Blue, discovered her in this fettered state at approximately ten forty-five pm. As instructed, Ms. Blue did not move anything in the office until our arrival."
"Ms. Élan's clothing jacket has been opened and her brassiere pulled down. Her skirt is hiked up. She was possibly molested but otherwise is not injured."
"Description of ligature: Subject bound with treated hemp rope. Tied at the ankles, above and below the knees, at the waist, underneath and above the breasts, at the wrists and above the elbows. Ropes wound neatly with little crossover. All ties firmly cinched and finished off with perfect square knots. Subject fastened to chair at the waist, lap, and at her ankles pulled underneath the chair... Come around and film her back." Means ordered Reyes. "Arms placed over the back of the chair. Wrists bound palm to palm with thumbs and middle fingers tied together, ropes around breasts securing upper arms and ropes at waist securing the wrists. Elbows pinioned together behind subject's back, augmenting figure."
Raika blushed. The Inspector ran her fingers along the rope as she explained Raika's predicament. "This is important...Rope doubled up and hitched at the elbows passing between the left arm and the back, through the armpit, up the shoulder, behind the neck and back down the same path on the right side and wrapped to the elbow tie. Same rope runs up to behind the neck and is pulled back down to the elbows and wrapped again, then wrapped around the wrist tie three times, covering the wrist knot, then to the ankles to pull them underneath the chair. Finally that rope is brought up and tied off at the nape of the neck. Ingenious. Very rigid. Ms. Élan please try to move your arms."
Raika struggled mightily but could only move a fraction of an inch.
"Gag consisting of Vet wrap copiously wrapped around the head. Ms. Élan, please try to make audible noises."
Raika complied with a faint "mmmmph."
"Subject almost completely silenced." Inspector Means began unwinding the red vet wrap. She continued, "Several pieces of black duct tape crossed over the lips. Mouth cleaved twice with a cashmere scarf and knotted with a square knot." Means removed the tape and the scarf. Raika slowly worked the packing from her mouth with her tongue. Means expedited the process and removed the obstruction, silk drenched with saliva. "Mouth filled with subject's lower undergarment and a handkerchief."
"Finally." Raika shrieked, "Get me out of this. Right now. This is humiliating!"
"Please Ms. Élan; we need to do this systematically."
"Ms. Blue could you give Ms. Élan some water.?" Raika took a well earned gulp. The inspector continued, "Subject firmly bound in a professional manner. Does not seem injured. Ms. Élan, has anything gone numb?"
"No, it is relatively comfortable considering the circumstances. But very frustrating. Can I get free now?"
"Sorry Ms. Élan you need to stay that way from a little while longer. It should improve your memory. Can you be strong?"
"I am a very strong person." Raika snapped. "But this is ridiculous."
"Just a few minutes more, Ms. Élan. How long have you been tied up?"
"Since seven thirty or so. I believe the last time I remember looking at the clock was seven fifteen."
"Let the record show that the subject was bound and gagged securely and safely for approximately four hours. Ms. Élan could you describe what happened."
"Sure, I was working in my office late, reviewing documents on my computer. I do not think that anyone else was in the office. Ms. Blue was gracious enough to run an errand across town to meet a filing deadline."
"Why did you send her so late at night?" Reyes interjected.
"Reyes, please let her continue. I apologize for my colleague. You were saying..."
"Yes I was reviewing some work when the intruder surprised me from behind. I discerned a female voice but I did not get a good look at her. She wore a hood; I couldn't even tell you the color of her eyes. A knife at my throat, I begged her not to hurt me and she told me to put my hands behind my back. She bent me over the desk and started to tie me up. I told her I would cooperate and that my money and credit card were in my purse on the credenza. She told me she was not interested in "petty cash" but just wanted to borrow my computer. Since I had my desktop opened she did not need a password to access the network."
Inspector Means interrupted her. "Do you think it was the same perpetrator as the last time? The one who tied up your whole office?"
"The voice was similar. And the ropes had a familiar feel. I couldn't move a muscle yet it was not painful. Just like the last time."
"The intruder moved quickly. She tied my legs and carried me over her shoulder to this chair. I don't think it took more than two minutes to tie me to the chair. During that time I detected the scent of lambskin. I didn't dare look back. I was too afraid." Raika whimpered.
Holly contributed, "The intruder from the previous instance, was dressed head to toe in black leather."
"Thank you Ms. Blue" the Inspector curtly responded, she had already determined the culprit. "Ms. Élan, anything else to identify her?"
"I can't think of anything. Once she had me trussed up, she asked whether anyone else was in the office. I told her no, but that the cleaning woman would come in at eleven. That was the last thing I said tonight up until a couple of minutes ago. She pulled my hair, when I gasped she deftly stuffed something into it; now I know it was my own panties. I didn't even notice her cutting them off. She was so quick. Bitch! She remarked that lawyers have big mouths and then I sensed her packing something else behind my teeth. I was difficult to get it all in my mouth. When she was done I could not move my jaw. She put the middle of one my expensive scarves between my teeth and pulled it really tight from behind my head to push the mound of cloth further back. Then she sealed in my mouth with sticky tape and finally wrapped a whole roll with that sticky red stuff they use on horse's legs."
"Vet Wrap. Ms. Élan, did you know that the cleaning woman showed at approximately quarter to eight? And that she met a similar fate?"
"Yes the intruder surprised her when came into my office, while she was stuffing my mouth. I had hard time making a noise with my mouth stuffed. I tried to warn her, but I couldn't muster up more than a slight grunt. Is she alright? The intruder forcibly removed the cleaning lady from my office."
"She is fine. Ms. Blue released her. Reyes took her statement. Do you know when the intruder left?" queried Ms. Reyes.
"I don't know the exact time but approximately an hour later... How come you won't release me? ... Anyway, I heard her whisper "Thank you" in my ear and then she... I can't say it in front of a rolling camera."
"It's important Ms. Élan," comforted the Inspector. "I assure no one but Ms. Reyes and I will review this tape."
"Okay Inspector Means, but I want a copy of this tape and a non-disclosure from you and Ms. Reyes."
"Well I sensed a slight pressure on my right nipple as she whispered in my ear, 'A pleasure doing business with you.'"
"Was it like this?" the Inspector swirled her finger around Raika's areola.
"How did you know?" Raika cried. "She, She... also groped my breasts and rubbed my pubic area from time to time with her gloved hand. I was thoroughly violated."
"What did you do after she left, Ms. Élan?"
"Afraid that she had not left, I stayed still for a while. Once I was convinced that she was gone, I started struggle. At first I could only move my head from side to side. My fingers groped for some knots, but to no avail. She had even tied my thumbs! My breathing was labored and I started to break a sweat. Fortunately, I had gone to the bathroom at seven. I tried to push the gag out with my tongue but it was like cemented in. After much effort, I was able to move my hands and hips slightly. Eventually I gave up, hoping that someone would find me. Thankfully, my assistant returned or I would have been here all night. On second thought, I have been here all night. Will you untie me?"
"In a moment," the Inspector promised, "Do you have any surveillance tapes?"
"Yes," Ms. Blue answered.
"Good, show Reyes where they are." Holly and Reyes left the room. The Inspector faced the still captive attorney.
"Ms. Élan do you know what she has taken?"
"She did not take any jewelry or money. She did take one of my mints. She did something with my computer. I heard the tapping of keys. The network has many things on it." Means brought the laptop to the attorney. "Oh my God! She opened my calendar! I was supposed to pick up Ms. Rashir at the airport at ten tonight."
"Who is Ms. Rashir?"
"A very important executive with my client. Ms. Leela Rashir is an expert on financial transaction processing. I don't think the burglar knows who she is, but we have to make sure. Quick, call the airport and see if the flight from Bangalore has landed."
While Inspector Means called the airport police, Holly and Gonzales reentered and began working at the bonds, removing them with a pocket knife and scissors. Still it was hard work. In five minutes they were about half way done.
Jo Anne Means adopted her nonsense manner on the phone. "Airport Police? ... Officer Holmes this is Inspector Means ...right former Inspector. I work for an insurance company now... Listen we have an emergency. There is a Ms. Leela Rashir landing from Bangalore tonight, has she arrived... Could you page her?"
The two girls continued to saw at the ropes. With much effort they had undone most of the cords. The Inspector clicked off the phone, "She landed an hour ago. She cleared customs at eleven. A page for her was not answered. The airport staff is on high alert. Hopefully she has not left the building. "
Holly ever forward thinking, "I tried to call her right after I discovered Ms. Élan, but got voicemail. I just sent her a text also... She just responded in all caps: 'WHERE IS ÉLAN?! I AM TAKING A CAB. UNPROFESSIONAL!!!' I apologized via text, and told her to avoid any suspicious people but she has not responded. She has such a temper."
"That sounds like Leela," smiled Ms. Élan, "Regardless Inspector, please go to the hotel and protect Ms. Rashir. She could be in danger. Her picture is in the open file. She is staying at the Empress," the attorney beseeched as Holly sawed at the ropes at her superior's elbows and wrists. Raika let out a sigh of relief, "About time Holly. I don't want to ever experience that again. This is the second time in three weeks. Inspector Means, you have to catch that bitch!"
"Don't worry, if this is who I think it is, I have caught her before. But she has also got the best of me, too." Means called the Empress Hotel, "Ms Rashir has not arrived at the Empress. Ms. Blue could you finish untying your boss? We need to get to the hotel." The Inspector and Reyes and raced out of the office.
The insurance inspector having left in a rush, Ms. Blue finished extricating the alluring attorney from yards of rope. "It was a harrowing night, yes. But not too harrowing I'm sure."
"What do you mean by that?" Raika rubbed her wrists and stretched her shoulders.
"You seem pretty comfortable and I noticed the wet spot on the chair. We both know what a little rope does to your libido."
"Well, I must confess that I probably could have withstood that for another couple of hours. And I do love to wriggle and moan. I know how much you enjoy that. For all this trauma, I am in the mood tonight," purred Raika.
Holly her voice cracking a little, "You do need some punishment...What about Leela?"
"The Inspector can handle it. Ms. Rashir is probably fine. There isn't anything we can do. Besides, I am so turned on right now. How 'bout taking me back to the apartment for some discipline."
"Whatever you say boss."
Holly's phoned buzzed. A text from Ms. Rashir: "Have checked in. Face my wrath tomorrow!" Holly giggled. "Leela is at the hotel and plenty mad."
"I will do some suitable groveling tomorrow," Ms. Élan hoped that her co-conspirator was texting incognito, "Hopefully some sleep will calm her down. Perhaps we should have taken a picture to prove I was literally tied up. I'm a little cranky after a twenty hour flight too. Forget her for now. Let's get back to your place."
Chapter 4 - Leela's Ordeal
DATE: AUGUST 28TH, 2006
TIME: 9:00 am
LOCATION: A rat infested basement, The Bottoms
She could sense another one rising from deep within her. This would be the fourth. Or was it the fifth? A paroxysm of fulfillment besieged her nucleus accumbens. Born in London to strict Indian parents, Leela Rashir exploited the opportunity for sexual experimentation upon attending boarding school. A curvaceous girl with an ample bosom, an adorably small nose, full lips and dark inviting eyes, she attracted many suitors. Despite coupling with numerous partners, both male and female, she never reached an ecstatic state. Therefore, she lost interest in sex and concentrated on her studies.
Her academic achievements won her many plaudits and accolades. At sixteen, she left England to attend a prestigious technical institute in India, sharpening her study of information technology. Upon graduation a year early, she attended business school in the United States, eventually earning an MBA in Finance at the ripe age of twenty-three. Spurning extremely generous offers from Wall and Fleet Streets, she opted to work in the emerging market in Mumbai.
Presently, Ms. Rashir worked for an international hedge fund. Her specialty was programming super fast computers to take advantage of small changes in the markets for obscene profits. Her responsibility spanned the globe but she was based in India. For her endeavors she was well rewarded, she lived a comfortable but not exorbitant existence.
This comfort was rudely changed upon her abduction in the past two or three days. Leela had lost track of time through the various tribulations. Her captor's various machinations had rendered her completely disoriented. It was an obvious attempt to wear her down to ensure cooperation.
Her disorientation was the greatest at this moment. It came from pleasure and not pain. A vibrating ball pressed against her clitoris. Two pulsing shafts filled her vagina and anus. The resulting orgasms were novel. Emotionally, it was fireworks -- such gratification she never experienced. Physically, Leela ejaculated. With each climax, a gusher of fluid emerged from her vulva. Needless to say, this was not her usual response to sexual stimulation.
Leela had used various sex toys before, but none brought more than minimal satisfaction. The difference may have been her position. Abruptly seized in her limousine, Ms. Rashir had been kept bound and gagged throughout her captivity. She lay on her upper back, inverted with her arms encased in a single sleeve. Her hips were gyrating off the ground. Her legs were attached to a "T" pipe set on a broad bench. Her feet were ensconced in high heel boots that forced her feet into the "en pointe" position, the toes pointed like a ballerina's. The backs of her knees rested on the cross bar. A large red ball, which she sank her teeth into with rush of adrenaline, filled her mouth. The obstruction's binding strap, notched so tightly, formed indentations on her cheeks. Totally vulnerable, powerless. And her captor took advantage of it. Her forced exposure heightened the sexual climax.
As her eyes rolled into her head, Ms. Rashir thought back to the beginning of her ordeal some two days ago, trying to logically place her current predicament. Ms. Rashir had landed promptly at ten. The consummate corporate mercenary, her emotions eroded with each commercial endeavor. Her frigid countenance augmented her professional authority. She was dressed in a cocoa brown pants suit with a starched white blouse. Entering business bitch mode, she exchanged her sensible airplane sandals for five inch Manolos. Overall, she looked very good for someone who just got off a twenty hour flight. She left the International Concourse and looked for Ms. Élan, angry when she failed to locate her attorney colleague. But Ms. Rashir did notice a man holding a placard with her name on it.
Ms. Leela Rashir, a British citizen of Indian ancestry, epitomized the word "cute." Outside of work she had a bubbly personality. She wore her brown streaked black hair short and parted to the side to complement her round face. Her eyes sparkled during one of her rare smiles. Those same eyes appeared cat like and distant when she adopted her skeptical professional outlook. At five foot seven in stocking feet and a well proportioned one hundred and twenty pounds, Ms. Rashir turned more than a few heads exiting the gate. Leela had her suits tailored to accent her C-cup cleavage. She strode confidently towards the driver.
"I am Ms. Rashir. Where is Ms. Élan?"
"She is tied up at the office. She called our service to take you to your hotel. Ms. Élan begs your pardon and once she detaches herself from her present situation..."
"Tied up?! I don't care if she literally is tied to a chair with a gag stuffed in her mouth! I need to speak to her immediately." Ms. Rashir harangued the driver while dialing Ms. Élan.
"I need to speak to you right now. Call me immediately, I found a vulnerability in the software," the imperious executive exclaimed to Ms. Élan's voicemail. In an instant, a her right hand adroitly texted the same message to Ms. Élan, unaware that Ms. Élan was literally tied to a chair with a gag stuffed in her mouth at that very moment. The index finger on the other hand waived inches from the driver's face.
Ms. Rashir, recognizing her futility of her rant in the driver's dumbfounded mien, regained composure. "Very well. Take me to the limo."
"Very good ma'am. Can I get your luggage?"
"Yes. Hurry up. I want you to skip the hotel and take me directly to Ms. Élan. The address is 79 Elm Street," the computing maven commanded in her
The man escorted Ms. Rashir to a black limousine parked in the waiting area. He opened the door for her. Abruptly, he shoved her between the shoulder blades. The normally confident executive crumpled onto the floor of the vehicle. The cabin was pitch black and the tinted windows prevented any outside light. "Fuck!" exclaimed as she tried to get to her feet but another force prevented her from standing up. She felt fingers clutch her scalp and force her head back. When she opened her mouth in an attempt to scream, a rubbery mass stifled her cry.
She could not move her arms to remove the obstruction. Instead she felt treated hemp rapidly wound around her wrists and ankles. Her wrists were crossed and cinched in the small of her back. More ropes encircled her torso and legs. A blindfold confined her to darkness. A jaw straining ball gag blocked her cries. Ear plugs filled her ears. A padded leather hood with a thick panel gag strap was fitted over her head and buckled tight, completely eliminating her senses of sight and hearing. The tiny holes over her nostrils to facilitate breathing were the only openings. Strict cords wrapped her body. Soon she was immobile and she sensed herself being picked up and placed in a car seat. A seat belt was buckled. The soft car seat accommodated her bound arms.
Ms. Rashir had the misfortune of sampling the talents of Bani and Giani, a most formidable combination. Aimee was fortunate to reach them on such short notice. While the pair attended to Ms. Rashir, Aimee placed her luggage in the trunk and got behind the wheel. She removed the fake beard that convinced the now restrained Gujarati of Aimee's masculinity.
Upon leaving the hopelessly helpless attorney in her office, Aimee exited through the skylight and repeated her leap across the alley. She accepted the kidnapping assignment because if the computer scam did not work out, she could always obtain a tidy ransom. Once safely back on the street, and her hood repositioned as a hair wrap, Aimee summoned Bani and Giani. Fortunately, they were hanging out at the garage.
"B, is G with you? Good. Meet me at Elm and Fourteenth. Bring the limousine, the chauffeurs' uniform, my disguise kit, and whatever you need to completely deprive a girl of her senses... That will work, but hurry. We have to get the airport by ten thirty. Two thousand dollars each." That last promise guaranteed their alacrity.
Bani stood five foot ten and carried one hundred fifty five pounds of pure muscle. She once qualified as an alternate for the Mongolian Olympic wrestling team. A butch yet attractive woman with a serious expression, Aimee contracted with her when she needed muscle. A broken nose attested to her semi-professional mixed martial artist career.
Giani, a tattooed Korean sprite with a serious aptitude with rope, rapidly uncoiled lengths of cord and constricted the stunned and stunningly attractive Desi girl. Giani, residing in the States on a work visa, immersed herself in Shibari while growing up in Japan.
While Bani sat on her head and held her arms, Giani sat on Ms. Rashir's legs and bound her hands. The tying pixie did not use more than a hundred feet of rope. Nonetheless, her rigging was consistently inescapable. Leela strained against her bonds, to the delight of her captors, who sampled a bottle of champagne celebrating their victory over the hapless yet exquisite computer programmer.
Bani knocked on the window. Ms. Rashir's PDA was buzzing with texts. Aimee realized she needed to answer them. The address was from Elan and Associaties, someone named Holly. Aimee realized it must be Raika's assistant. Her first victim had been discovered and she needed to give the impression of normality.
Rashir(Aimee): In cab to Hotel.
Holly: Sorry about the mix up. R got tied up.
Holly: No really. Trussed like turkey.
Rashir (Aimee): Stop It.
Rashir (Aimee): "Have checked in. Face my wrath tomorrow!"
Aimee drove the limousine for the thirty minute drive back to her garage, a professional auto repair joint run by Bani and Giani. They ran the shop and repaired the occasional automobile. But really it gave them cover for their criminal activities. The garage safely closed. Aimee opened the rear of the limousine. She admired their handiwork.
"Nice Job. She can't hear anything?"
"Yea the bitch is B&Ged by B&G! Woo!" Giani high fived her muscular companion, "Where's our money?"
Aimee handed them each a stack of hundreds. "Put her in the kidnap mobile." The aptly named white panel van, suitable for snatching prey off the street, was parked adjacent to the limo. This van was specially outfitted to Aimee's bondage predilections.
Bani unbuckled the girl and slung her over her shoulder, "Can I play with her?"
"No you two need to split for a while. Get rid of the limo. I have to interrogate this one. Put her luggage in the kidnap mobile, too"
"We can help!" Bani suggested.
"Sorry girls. I have to do this one alone."
Aimee drove her charge to a motel on the outskirts of town. She opted for a room around the back. No one saw her carry the girl and her luggage into the room.
Once in the room, Aimee disguised herself with her hood. She dumped the tied bundle on one of the beds. Aimee removed Ms. Rashir's hood, blindfold and ear plugs. She attached her knee ropes to her chest ropes, forcing the confused girl into a stricter position. The gag remained firmly in place.
Aimee started by going through her captive's three pieces of luggage, slowly pulling out the outfits that Ms. Rashir had packed. She stopped at a leather suit ensemble, "Nice, I didn't know you had a kinky side. We have to get you in this eventually."
"But first the rules. If you follow them you will get of out this situation with a minimum of fuss. You are my captive. You are to remain bound and gagged for the duration of your captivity. The only time you won't be gagged is for answering my questions or feeding. For thirty minutes every six hours I will release you to stretch and/or change into these cute outfits. The gag remains in unless I remove it. If you attempt to escape during these periods, this privilege will be taken away. Otherwise, when you are bound and gagged, I encourage you to try to escape; it makes this whole adventure more fun. You probably haven't had too much practice being tied up. Although that leather outfit suggests you may have tied a few people up yourself. I will change your position every three hours or so, to prevent cramping."
"You probably don't know what's going on. But you have some information that I need, in particular some passwords to these servers, if you tell me and I can access them. I will release you within the next twenty-four hours. If not, you may have to stay here longer." Aimee showed the helpless girl a list. She also unbuckled the ball gag, copious amounts of drool ran down Leela's business suit.
"Shit! Untie me, Now!" Ms. Rashir screamed.
Aimee quickly returned the gag, buckling painfully tighter than before. Ms. Rashir thrashed around in Bani's bonds in a futile attempt to remove the gag that bit into her cheeks. Aimee watched her struggle. Tears streamed down Ms. Rashir's face, but she kept striving. After about twenty minutes she gave up.
Aimee stared into her abductee's hazel eyes, "I told you that cooperation is the better course. Will you keep quiet if I remove this?" Ms. Rashir shook her head affirmatively. Again the ball gag was removed.
"Thank you, could you please untie me for one of those thirty minute periods? I would like to change into something more comfortable. It is very hot in this room."
Aimee appreciated the change in tone. "I am not bargaining with you, give me the information."
"Just start up my laptop. The log in is 'Hanuman8.' The passwords logins and addresses are located in a file on my desktop named Grocery List. In my purse is a random number generator fob. Type that number in to get through the secondary firewall."
Aimee replaced the ball gag but not so disagreeably tight. Aimee booted up the laptop and retrieved the code. She started working on a laptop with a poorly disguised Latvian IP address. The passwords worked and she was into the designated servers. That step completed, she plugged in the portable hard drive stolen from Raika Élan Esq. The hard drive started to download its malicious contents to the server.
Aimee turned her attention to her ensnared prisoner, "It looks like you gave me the correct information. I am going to release you for a thirty minute period. You can change into a new outfit. You have so many cute ones. But no funny business or they'll be hell to pay."
Aimee started to undo the knots. With a twelve foot chain clasped around her ankle, her relatively unrestricted prisoner was secured to the coat rack in the room. Ms Rashir immediately disrobed to her underwear and started stretching, going through her normal yoga routine.
Aimee admired the lithe body from the bed closest to the door. "Are you sore, would you like a massage?"
The gagged girl assented non-verbally.
"Come over to the bed." Aimee removed the gag, confident that she could swiftly silence her prisoner. She gestured for Leela to lay face first on the bed. The captor worked on Leela's shoulders and neck.
The prisoner started to relax and adopted a blithe attitude. Ms. Rashir hoped to manipulate the situation. "You didn't need to force me. Just give me a massage and I'll do whatever you want. My employers pay me well but not that well...Do you really have to tie me up again? I'll be good. I can do the programming steps for you. Can you use the chain or handcuffs?"
"Sorry. I am obsessed with wrapping rope around beautiful women. Also it's my signature." Aimee Rolfed Leela's hamstrings.
Aimee moved to the soles of her feet. "To the trained eye, my ties are discernable. I do a lot of illicit things, but all of them relate to binding and gagging alluring girls such as yourself. The money is nice but really I can do things like this and they can't fight back." Aimee lightly touched Leela's bosom.
"Part of the massage. Rest is over. Tie up time. Would you like to put on an outfit? I really want to see you in that leather get up. White ropes look great against a black background."
"I wear that when I want to bully computer nerds. It's still really hot in here. Can I wear shorts and a tank top?"
"That leather get up protects your skin from rope. But pick what you want. If you're gonna wear that, take off your underwear first."
Leela quickly removed her underwear and put on her workout attire, retro style shorts and a white tank top t-shirt, which fit her like a Hooter's girl. She remained barefoot. "Where do you want me? Can I beg you for more lenient treatment?" Leela's eyes flitted coquettishly and she held her wrist out in front.
"No!" Aimee cuffed a shocked Leela, "Back on down on the bed face first. Hang your tits over the edge. Hands behind your back." Aimee was finished humoring the girl. Her act of kindness had deluded her prisoner into believing that she could manipulate her captor.
Leela promptly complied, assuming the designated position. Aimee straddled her and began working. Leela's wrists were confined in an instant. Seeing Leela's previous display of flexibility, Aimee started pushing Leela's elbows together.
"Will my arms go that way?"
"Yes it looks like they can touch and touch hard. This is going to be fun." Aimee strictly tied her elbows. "You're really begging me to be harsher with your attitude." Aimee and tied Leela's ankles and knees. A chest harness was next. Then Leela was hogtied by means of rope from ankles to the harness. Aimee shoved a foam ball into Leela's mouth. A string was tied to her toes and passed between her teeth and leased back to her big toes, which pointed back towards her head. The poor girl's head was forced up and her back arched. Then Aimee covered her mouth with many strips of tape. Not content with this torture, Aimee attached wooden clothes pins to Leela's nipples.
Aimee explained, "This is called a pretzel hogtie. I just want to show you what a bitch I can be. I know from experience how hard this is. So you only need to stay like this for an hour or so. I should be done by then. After that I'll let you rest."
Leela's relaxed state quickly dissipated. Her whole body was tauter than a bow string. Her muscles ached within the first minutes. Leela's reaction to the extreme duress was evident in the mirror facing her: a countenance evokingHer shock and surprise. She was clearly unaccustomed to such treatment. Any attempt to move resulted in sharp pain. She felt within an inch of absolute panic in the face of total helplessness. She meekly shifted while Aimee turned her attention to the computer. Leela's stifled and anguished moans emanated from the gag.
Just when Leela reached the limits of her endurance, she got her second wind. By remaining perfectly still could minimize the pain and concentrate on the endorphin rush. After about an hour and a half, Aimee partially released her from this predicament by removing the most painful parts, the gag and the connecting toe string. Without saying a world, she fed the still hogtied Leela a cup of yogurt and pint of water. A smaller ball gag enforced silence after the meal. Then all of her bonds except for her wrists and elbows were released while Leela relieved herself in the lavatory.
Upon reentering the room, the ropes were removed and Leela's hands were bound in front. Aimee then encased her in a leather full body bag for sleeping. The gag remained and was accompanied by a blindfold. She found the encasement comforting. Aimee softly caressed her leather clad body until they both passed into sleep.
The next morning, Leela was again put in rope and transported to a rat infested abandoned factory. Aimee seemed to be having problems with the program. She pressed Leela for answers. When those answers proved unsatisfactory, Leela suffered a series of tortures culminating in the inverted hogtie. Upon the fifth orgasm, Leela lost consciousness and Aimee opted for another tact.
Chapter 5 - Colleagues
DATE: JULY 30TH, 2006
TIME: 2:30 pm
LOCATION: BOOMTOWN MUNITIONS WORKS (ABANDONED)
Tied and gagged identically, both girls struggled vigorously. Both knew that their struggles were fruitless but persisted anyway. Each gained impetus from the other's energetic writhing and moaning. Striving against the ineluctable ropes, each sought freedom. Both worked frantically to escape the ruthless ropes before their captor's return, but only one really wanted to be free.
Raika Élan, Attorney at Law, knew she could not remove the ropes that held her elbows and wrists together behind her back, her legs together, and lashed her body to the splat backed dinette chair. Nor could she expel the massive shop rag that forced her full lips agape. Numerous strips of clear tape held this obstruction in place.
Her colleague, Ms. Leela Rashir, sat across from her, in exactly the same state. As they struggled, their hosed clad knees lightly touched. It was their only point of contact. Their perky breasts, thrust forward due to the constriction of their elbows (their arms being conveniently placed through the openings in the back of the chairs), seemed to long for connection.
Both wore form fitting business suits, Leela's in grey and Raika's in black, and tight white button down blouses. Each also wore five inch black patent leather pumps with matching black hose. Raika's suit sported a few tears; her blouse was missing a couple of buttons. As a result, her left nipple would expose itself as she undulated in her chair. Her harsh treatment over the last five or so hours had gotten the best of her suit. She endured many tortures in an attempt to force her cooperation while Leela served as mute witness. Ms. Rashir enjoyed a wardrobe change into her present outfit some six hours ago.
Wild eyed, both looked to the other for guidance. They could only move maybe millimeters. Each could emit barely audible grunts and moans behind their copious packing. They had been struggling like this for over an hour. Beads of perspiration appeared on foreheads and ran down to their chins. Despite the dogged exertions, neither had made any progress.
The bound and gagged attorney did not really want to succeed. Unlike her counterpart, she had furtively acquiesced to this treatment. She and her captor were engaged in an unconventional business venture. Its profitability depended upon the unwitting input from Ms. Rashir. Ms. Élan consented to her kidnapping and subsequent harsh treatment to convince her colleague that cooperation was their only hope for survival.
Various tortures and other inducements had failed to elicit the proper information from Leela. The poor programmer did not actively resist, in fact she immediately relinquished the access codes, but their captor was still unable to penetrate the firewalls blocking her electronic embezzlement.
Yesterday, Aimee DeLigotage, the notorious feline burglar, reached an impasse. Despite her captive's cooperation, she had not made any headway with their electronic embezzlement. Therefore, she opted to risk exposing their conspiracy by directly meeting with Ms. Raika Élan Esq.
Ms. DeLigotage donned one her many disguises, a graying wig, colored contacts, midsection padding, eyeglasses, a prosthetic nose and jowls. Adorned in a sensible pants suit, she ventured over to Ms. Élan's offices. The two co-conspirators hoped that their second meeting, which also ended with Ms. Élan thoroughly trussed up, would be their last. Any interaction invited suspicion.
Aimee approached the Élan and Associates reception area with considerable trepidation. The normally cool criminal feared discovery, but only direct consultation with Ms. Élan could remove her technological roadblock.
"Welcome to Élan and Associates, how may I help you?" the gamine receptionist asked Aimee as she entered through the glass doors.
"My name is Ms. Georgia Peecher and I would like to discuss a patent application with Ms. Élan." Aimee fabricated. "Tell her that I have developed a virus snatching program."
The receptionist relayed the message and after an excruciating ten minute wait, "Ms. Peecher" was led back to Ms. Élan's office. She sat down at Ms. Élan's desk as the office door closed.
"Wow, I can hardly recognize you. I would not have deigned to speak with you but for the subtle invocation of the code word. Nonetheless, you should not have come here. It is too dangerous," the attorney reminded the recidivist with a placid starkness, which chilled Aimee.
"I had no choice. Ms. Rashir has given me the passwords, but I still can't get past the other security measures to execute the virus. I have tried all sorts of tortures to get her to give me more information. She claims she has given me everything."
"Maybe, can you help? Otherwise, I... we are fucked."
The comely Japanese attorney thought for a moment, clearly disappointed in Aimee. Then she provided a suggestion. "I can get the information from her. We can create a work around. "
"How can you do that?"
"I need to collaborate with her. We have solved some programming enigmas before. Kidnap me. Apply some coercion. Then I convince Ms. Rashir to increase her efforts."
"I can't pull you out of here in broad daylight, these things require planning. I know you love playing damsel in distress. But I am a professional. Besides I didn't bring anything to tie you up with."
The attorney looked Aimee right in the eye. "I am sure you can improvise. There are plenty of phone cords, cables and extension cords in my office. Tie me up tight. "Once I am all tied up. We can escape down the back stair case. I had the fire alarm removed for easy access to the garage. We can go out in my car. If you take off that ridiculous disguise and put on my sunglasses, the guard will think it's me behind the wheel. We have to hurry because I have a conference call in twenty minutes."
"Okay, but we do this my way."
"You're in charge my dear."
Aimee detected a hint of sarcasm. Perhaps the attorney was commenting on her professionalism. The notorious second story woman became irate with the condescension.
Raika gathered up a phone cord of about ten meters. "Use your imagination. I need a clear headed partner at the moment."
"That last bit of direction sparked Aimee's temper. The attorney approached her with the cord in hand. Aimee reacted with a deft and powerful left hook to her partner's midsection. Raika doubled over in response to the unexpected blow and looked up at her attacker with astonishment. No one had ever hit her so forcefully. She struggled to retain her composure. Before she could get her bearings, a hard right cross struck her squarely in the eye. Raika briefly blacked out.
She regained consciousness while she was being tied with a phone cord which bit into her elbows. Raika, bent over her desk, observed that her office was in disarray. She wanted to give her abductor a big "What The Fuck?" but something stopped her speech. A bitter taste tormented her tongue. She ruminated on the packing in her mouth and determined that it consisted of today's business section of the newspaper. The wadding could not be removed, being held in with electric cord with bit at her lips and cheeks and forced all sorts of financial data to the back of her throat.
Although she was still groggy and discomfited by the unforgiving cord winding around her body and putting her completely at the mercy of her assailant, Raika began to comprehend Aimee's seemingly unwarranted violence. Her wounds and the office disarray conveyed a well resisted kidnapping.
Two conflicting thoughts struck the attorney. Either her assailant was psychotic and disregarded her safety, or she was cold and calculating, thinking two steps ahead. Raika determined, like most things, it was a combination of the two. The combination of impending pleasure and danger proved irresistible. Raika became aroused.
As Aimee wrapped and frapped the phone cord around her wrists, Raika began to feel a sense of adventure. What fun to be kidnapped and subject to the whims of a beautiful dominatrix! She smiled a thought of being captured, fondled, tortured and otherwise stimulated. She craved physical sensation. The juvenile Raika grew more excited at each turn of the wire. But her throbbing eye reminded her that this was no lark.
As the cord progressed around her hourglass figure, Raika experienced emotional release in direct correlation to increasing stricture. The pressure starting and running her firm had led to many sleepless nights. Many people, both inside and outside of the firm, depended upon her expertise. The clients were very difficult, avaricious, and demanding. These titans of finance relished swindling others and often boasted of their exploits in a weak attempt to seduce their comely counselor.
For Raika, the descent into captivity engenders a euphoric state. She had convinced herself that bondage was a tool with a practical purpose. Suffering from ADD, confinement improved her concentration and helped her in school. Professionally, total helplessness provides moments of creativity. At this moment, bent over a desk, dazed, eye blackened, arms and elbows pulled behind her, legs together, mouth filled with newsprint, body wrapped in unforgiving cord, Raika reached a minor epiphany. Although she was going through this with the highest of commercial motives, Raika realized that she had it backwards; everything she did was to create a state of vulnerability. Her childhood games evolved into a perilous reality.
At this moment she was powerless. The phone cords do not contour to the body like rope. Aimee compensated by pulling it tighter. Raika could feel the unyielding pressure of each bond; she felt the wire contents of each plastic coated cord against her body, especially at the wrists, where her hands started to tingle. Blessed with wicked circulation, Raika rarely had such sensations, definitely not immediately, maybe after five hours trussed, but not this soon.
Aimee tossed Raika over her shoulder, stashed Raika's laptop in a stylish bag, and silently proceeded down the emergency staircase. Aimee took the wheel of the attorney's late model sedan, its owner secured in the trunk. The oversized sunglasses proved sufficient to deceive the inattentive parking lot attendant.
In the darkness, Raika tested her bonds. She expected to get free due to the unconventional binding, but Aimee had done an excellent job. Raika persisted in an earnest yet unfruitful attempt to free herself from the painful bonds. After about thirty minutes, her limbs became numb and her body limp. Raika endured through her meditative sub-state, obviating any panic.
As they motored down the boulevard, Holly, the paralegal, knocked on the office door. Discovering the disorder, she immediately feared for her boss. A call downstairs indicated that Ms. Élan had left a few minutes ago. But Holly knew something was wrong. That conference call was with one of their most important clients. She would not blow it off unless without being compelled. Holly called Inspector Means and the police.
Leela was back at her post, wrapped in a couple hundred feet of cord. Completely immobile from head to toe, she waited for the leather clad tormentor to return. About two hours ago, her captor assigned her to this position. This steel pole, located in the basement of some abandoned factory, felt cool on the back of her neck. This post became the default setting when her captor needed her out of the way. Leela had become quite familiar with the rounded contours of this post.
Moreover, the lovely Ms. Rashir became acclimated with those ropes over the past few days. Her kidnapper tied her identically each time. Her hands were pulled behind the pole and lashed together palms facing. Her thumbs and middle fingers were also bound Her slender forearms were wedded together with hemp. The legs were compressed at the ankles, above her calves, and thighs. Each these bonds were pulled taut but without impeding circulation. But that's not all, she was welded to the pole with eight turns of rope each (Leela counted every time) at the ankles, shins, thighs, waist, below her bosom and around her upper arms. Each cord meticulosly paralell. Her mouth was filled with a large foam ball, a sanitary pad placed over her lips and the whole thing ensconsed with adhesive wrap. Even more wrap pinned her head to the pole. Extra strips of duct tape crossed over her crammed mouth and under her chin. She could only follow the mice scurry around her with her eyes. . She prayed that one would chew at her knots, which were tucked away out of reach.
"Why does my abductor (abductrix?) have to always gag me if there's never anyone around?," an exasperated Leela thought to herself, "There are other ways to confine me. This one is very kinky. All this rope seems like a lot of fuss when handcuffs and some chain would suffice." Such contemplation was inevitable in her immobile state.
Fortunately, her abductor let her stretch and change before being enmeshed to her post. Since it was chilly in the basement and not too sooty, Ms. Rashir opted for her gray wool skirt. She brought a few emsembles for her trans-continental trip. Her captor liked to put her in a new outfit each day.
Leela passed the time by memorizing Pi out to five hundred and forty seven places, calculating square roots, and reciting prime numbers. As she reached 3529, Leela heard the door unlock. Leela discerned two sets of heels descending the metal stair case. She recognized the heavy boots of her abductor, but with her back to the stairs, she could not tell who the other person was.
The abductor in jet black appeared, sporting hogtied shoulder candy. It was Ms. Élan! Leela did not like seeing colleague in such a predicament. She squirmed as best as she could.
Aimee rapidly removed the cords on with a bolt cutter, much to the twisted counselor's relief. Wordlessly, she tied Raika's hands in front of her with a length of hemp. The other end was strung through a pulley; Raika's arms were yanked over her head until she could touch the ground with only the tips of her toes. Finally the gag strap was removed and Raika expelled the newsprint.
Aimee addressed her strung up captive, "I need to penetrate the Kalki server. How do I do it?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
Aimee shoved a three inch rubber ball gag into Raika's mouth,
Stepped away for a moment and returned with a single tail. "Perhaps this will loosen your tongue." Aimee winced at her cliche as she pulled down the lawyer's skirt.
She immediately went to work on Raika's ass. Raika noticed Aimee's skill, her ability to hold back on impact while producing a loud recoil. Still, welts formed on her behind. Raika played it up by screaming through the ball in her mouth. After about fifteen strikes, Raika slumped over in mock unconsciousness. Aimee recognized the terror in Leela's dark eyes.
Leela saw their tormentor cut down Raika and carry her into the next room. Even with the door closed she could hear screams. A couple hours later, the captor returned and tied her to a chair. Raika was then brought in and secured as a mirror image to Leela.
Aimee exited the basement, the door locked behind her. She let her little bondagettes have some quality time together. After exactly ninety five minutes, she returned. Raika eyes, wide over her bulging cheeks, indicated an orchestrated surrender.
Aimee removed the tape from Raika's face. The trussed attorney tried to expel her red packing, but needed Aimee's assistance. Out came one sodden handkerchief, then another. Aimee left the room.
Raika worked her jaw to relieve the tension, then addressed the entangled Desi stunner, "Leela, I am convinced we have to cooperate."
Leela nodded in agreement. The two had collaborated many times. She could often read Raika's mind. Leela realized that once they worked together to solve the puzzle, their abductor would get what she wanted and they could be released. She had come to that conclusion hours ago but nobody bothered to ask her.
"Hey" Raika called out, "We're ready to help. The three reached an arrangement. Leela would remained trussed and stifilled. Raika would program with hands tied in front. Raika would make suggestions and Leela would grunt her approval. Aimee monitored their progress. This worked for a while until Leela was ungagged for some tricky parts.
These hurdles overcome, the three went to bed together. Aimee received some cunnilingus from Raika while Leela remained lashed to the foot of the bed. Tomorrow, they would complete their gambit. All that they needed was a traceable high speed connection.
Chapter 6 - A Little Withdrawal
DATE: AUGUST 31TH, 2006
TIME: 2:00 pm
LOCATION: MASON STREET TOWNHOUSE
Raika Élan Esq. inch-wormed her way across the floor. She was bound yet determined. More precisely, she was strictly hogtied, a position she became quite accustomed to during the last forty-eight hours. Her captor often confined her to this posture to limit her interference, but the resolute patent attorney painstakingly proceeded in her captor's absence. Ms. Élan's ankles were crossed and tied, which further hindered movement and forced her to negotiate mobility with gyrating hips. Her normally protruding ass was accentuated by this movement. Each gyration produced inches of progress and ounces of perspiration. Her forehead glistened with sweat and ran down into her deep brown eyes. Discoloration around her eye attested to a right cross two days ago. Her breasts were compressed against the floor as she shimmied to her destination. Occasionally, she scuffed her cheek on the hardwood floor. "Oomphs!" emitted through the copious packing in her mouth accompanied each writhing advance.
If she could stand up, Raika would be five foot two inches tall. She carried one hundred and two pounds on her athletic frame. For a petite woman, the Okinawan displayed a considerably buxom figure. Her legs were well defined yet extremely feminine. Her rounded face was augmented by a button nose, pouting lips and high cheek bones. But those features were currently obscured by the tape pasted across her face.
Help from the other women in town house was likely unavailing. Her professional associate, Ms. Rashir, was completely immobilized in a ball tie in between the coffee table and couch. The bewildered "mistress of the house" was tied, muffled, blindfolded, and deafened. Confined thirty feet away in the kitchen, she suffered in silence. Raika could hear her moans and see her struggle under severe distress, but Ms. Élan would not alleviate her anguish.
Ms. Élan had a more immediate goal, to reach her PDA and contact her assistant. Realizing that objective required all of her efforts. Raika's hands were tied with the palms facing in the small of her back. Her elbows were pressed together with rope. Again, this was a familiar tie during the past two days. While it rendered her helpless, it was not too uncomfortable because of her innate and practiced flexibility. Ms. Élan performed daily yoga exercises. Her best position is the backward reach, touching her elbows behind her without assistance.
In fact, she had her elbows tied behind her back for most of the morning, from the crack of dawn until just before noon. At that point, her captor tied her hands together in front so Ms. Élan could utilize a detachable ergonomic keyboard to create a programming script to access financial servers which transacted trillions of dollars each day. Nonetheless, she was only afforded movement of her fingers while she was secured with meters of cord. Her captor did not apply the routine oral obstruction so Ms. Élan could consult with her associate. While well bound and gagged, Ms. Leela Rashir assisted the coding efforts with grunts of approval or disapproval. It was awkward, but the couple finished their task. As Raika slithered on the floor towards Leela, the laptop whirred according to the pecuniary desires of their captor.
While the two women struggled with the intellectual task, their captor turned her attention to the townhouse owner, whose truculence resulted in her present predicament. The townhouse mistress, an attractive blond trophy wife in her mid forties, was athletic and well proportioned. Her mistake was repeatedly intoning "Do you know who I am?!", while being accosted by their captor. Apparently, she did not appreciate being bound and gagged. She soon learned that cooperation would have been a better course of action. Their captor beat the contrariness out of her with a leather belt. Large red welts attested to the severity of the beating. Raika did not know the resident, but the poor woman happened to have two things that her captor wanted: a nice body and anonymous Internet access. Raika herself had accumulated enough abrasions and bruises through various forms of discipline to convince her not to cross their captor.
Now the "mistress of the house" suffered through very diabolical predicament bondage. She was tied in a kneeling position. Her captor had spread uncooked rice under her knees. Kneeling on the hard starch proved very painful, the captive could not last more than a few minutes. But if she rocked back onto her heels, the strings attached to clips on her nipples and labia pulled taut, causing more discomfort. Moreover, the captive's hair was braided and attached to a cord tied to the dining table leg five feet behind her. Kneeling forward forced her chin upward. A short plunger was stuck on the floor. Sitting on her heels forced the handle further up her anus. Any shift in position caused extreme discomfort. Remaining in position provided no relief. A cruel dilemma indeed.
Her hands were tied in a reverse prayer position. More rope secured her upper arms to her torso. A spider web of cord ran from her body to various sturdy objects to prevent lateral movement off the rice. Her legs were frog tied, heels to ass and the ankles crossed to provide her captor access to her womanly regions. A wadded terry cloth towel forced her jaw wide and blocked her all speech. Saran wrap wound so tight as to compress her cheeks, made it impossible to expel the terry cloth. She was blindfolded with her own sleep mask. Cotton balls removed all sound. The prisoner was oblivious to her surroundings and alone in her misery.
Her captor was very resourceful, using common household objects, clothespins, a plunger, and string as instruments of torture. The final touch came from the owner's bedroom. A vibrating egg teased her clitoris. Her captor had left the vibrator on when she left and the batteries lasted more than an hour. For those sixty excruciating minutes, the captive endured multiple orgasms with her intense discomfort.
Raika continued across the floor. In five minutes, she had covered about ten feet -- halfway to her objective. Her exposed right nipple was raw from rubbing against the hardwood floor. Other scabs on her body had opened in the exertion, revealing tiny streaks of blood. Despite the discomfort, she inched along under Leela's curious gaze.
The balled up programmer marveled at the attorney's bound agility. She wondered at the purpose of this nugatory crawl. This little rebellion contrasted with Ms. Élan's previous cooperation with their captor. If this endeavor was discovered, they both would surely pay.
Leela, certainly since she was located near the laptop, was rendered completely immobile. During the programming process, her hands and elbows (though not touching like Raika's) were similarly welded behind her back. Yards of unyielding rope constricted her torso and prevented movement of her arms. Her legs were tied together at the ankles, above and below the knees, and at the mid thigh.
Per usual, she was thoroughly gagged. A foam ball filled her mouth. Her captor had a difficult time fitting it all into her mouth. A couple feet of saran wrap, topped off with duct tape in an "X" over her mouth and strips underneath her chin, secured it all in place. Ms. Rashir had the misfortune of wearing this particular gag since breakfast this morning. The sodden load weighed in her mouth, but Ms. Rashir found the sensation oddly tolerable. Continuous constriction had inured her to such discomfort. She decided that the foam ball was her favorite and meekly requested it that morning. She preferred how it felt in her mouth and enjoyed the ability to bite down, however minimally.
She had been rendered helpless almost constantly since her ambush in a limousine six days ago. Normally she was confined with rope, but sometimes in leather straps or duct tape. She slept, ate, bathed, and eliminated waste in bondage. She was permitted brief respites, but most of the time she remained hopelessly entangled in various bonds. Today, her arms and legs were bound continuously since breakfast, including during transport to this townhouse and the programming process. Leela was worn out by the ordeal.
Since her capture, Leela was continually moved. To avoid detection, her captor changed location daily. The exigent circumstances necessitated some compromises. Meals consisted of liquid supplements. Bathing was applied with a sponge. Each day, Leela had four thirty minute periods to stretch and change wardrobe, but under the watchful eye of her captor. While exhausted, Ms. Rashir suffered no injuries more than the minor cuts or bruises. As the object of her peculiar affection, Ms. Rashir traveled with the mysterious kidnapper securely tied. They moved from a number of musty hotel rooms to a remote cabin and abandoned warehouses prior to their present location. This was the first time her captor resorted to home invasion to provide a hiding place.
Being held alone was difficult, but once she was joined in captivity by Ms. Élan, her morale improved. Through verbal and non-verbal cues, the perky patent attorney exhorted her to keep her spirits up. Raika faced her difficult condition with a cheerful disposition, willingly submitting to the restraint and complimenting her captor on her skillful application. Even when bound in debilitating and humiliating postures, Raika winked at Leela whenever their gazes met.
Once the programming was finished, her captor brought out more rope. Ms. Rashir already deemed herself totally helpless, she could not understand the need for further restriction. But she soon recognized her captor's desire to put her in a ball tie, a particularly devious position that she suffered through earlier this morning. Balled up, she unceremoniously rode in the trunk of a stolen car for the trip over to the townhouse. Her captor pulled her knees up to touch her chest. She wound rope around Leela's neck and under her knees and cinched it between her chin and knees. Her captor lifted Leela to a kneeling position on a soft carpet between the coffee table and the sofa, her forehead pressed to the floor. Then she deftly connected her bound wrists to her ankles. The rope passed through the crack for her ass. Leela could only move her head and wiggle her fingers. Her limbs were firmly fixed.
In the beginning of her kidnapping, Leela regularly tested her bonds. Eventually, she despaired of any escape. The bonds proved ineluctable. An assortment of gags silenced her cries. Her captor was very professional. While the positions were strict and the ropes tight, Leela could bear the discomfort. She never lost circulation. Leela once fell asleep in a rather secure hogtie. At the present moment, she wore a form fitting leather business suit with matching black gloves and knee high boots.
Ms. Rashir was a preeminent programmer. Employed as a project manager, she dealt mostly with male programmers with a delusional view of women influenced by Internet pornography. This black leather ensemble was useful for getting their attention and asserting her dominance. She reserved this outfit for crises when an imposing physical presence was useful. Very few males could resist this wardrobe coupled with towering platform heels, which added half a foot to her stature. Now the utility of this outfit protected her skin from the incredibly taut ropes. A concession for cooperation, this suit received numerous compliments for her captor, usually with a firm caress of the buttock or breast.
Ms. Leela Rashir, a British citizen of Indian ancestry, was always referred to as cute throughout her life. She had a bubbly personality which was worn away by this ordeal. Her face was rounder than Raika's so she wore her hair short with slight highlights. She was at least four inches taller than Raika and weighed ten pounds more. Her build was also similar to Raika's, but her breasts were not as large nor her figure as curvaceous. Nonetheless, she struck an impressive figure, especially atop her customary five inch heels.
Raika was dressed in typical business attire. Since she was not seized along with her luggage, she suffered the indignity of wearing the same outfit for the past two days. Her panties were rudely removed some time ago. Her bra was severed and discarded, releasing her ample endowment, which bounced and flopped with every movement. Her starched white blouse was missing most of its buttons. It was also torn in numerous places, including an especially humiliating gap exposing her right nipple. Her black skirt was marred with an unintended split on the right side. Her stockings suffered a multitude of runs. Her makeup had run but not too badly. Her hair was another story. Her silken hair had escaped its professional bun and devolved into to a frizzy tangle. Her body featured numerous bruises and abrasions, having been subject to multiple pinchings, prods, and poundings. Discoloration around her left eye attested to her rough treatment. An intricate network of rope marks decorated her body, attesting to two days worth of strict bondage.
Raika proved very resourceful. Despite her condition: elbows and hands tied together behind her back, arms welded to her torso, ankles crossed and hogtied, she was able to reach her destination. She wriggled over to the couch facing Leela. Raika's and Leela's eyes linked for a kinky moment. They had developed a figurative bond in literal bondage. Leela understood Raika's determination. Leela grunted her understanding and the two twitched their noses together Eskimo style.
Raika reached up with her chin to the couch in order to gain leverage and struggled to her knees. She clumsily walked on her knees over to the coffee table. She looked at her reflection in the glass surface. Raika was also thoroughly gagged. A wad of cheese cloth filled her mouth. Nonetheless, she had a large mouth, -- lawyers often do – which could accommodate two handkerchiefs with some forcing. This time, the wad of cheese cloth was smaller than two handkerchiefs. It was a bit of uncharacteristic carelessness from her captor. Perhaps she was getting absentminded as her bounty approached.
A rawhide cord fiendishly held the packing in place. The cord disagreeably bit at the corners of Raika mouth. An "X" of duct tape over her lips completed the muzzle. While Raika was muffled, this was the least stringent gag she sustained in the last two days. The first gag of her ordeal consisted of today's newsprint stock quotes held in with a mouse cord! Except when sleeping, Raika was normally gagged with a handkerchief (sometimes panties) wadded into her mouth, another folded up and stuffed on top of the other, her mouth cleaved with a third (or tape or a cord), and followed by a generous amount of vet wrap and tape. Raika had adapted to such severity and the present application afforded an opportunity. She could manipulate the packing with her tongue.
Raika rubbed her chin against the edge of the glass coffee table. She tried to catch an edge of the duct tape. She would rub a couple of times and check her progress in the reflection. Leela strained her neck to observe the attorney's efforts. Eventually, Raika rubbed off the upper corner on the left side of her face. Then the tape from the lower left side was removed. Raika was careful to ensure that the tape remained affixed to the right side of her face. She looked at her reflection. Her mouth was wide open with packing. Raika arduously and painfully rolled the thin cord from between her lips to her chin. Raika triumphantly expelled her packing onto the coffee table.
"Finally!" she exclaimed. The whole process took ten minutes. Raika turned to Leela. "I need to contact my assistant, Holly, on my PDA. It's in my computer bag on the table." Raika started to wiggle over to the bag. But Leela, with a couple of hip checks, knocked the bag off the coffee table and its contents fortuitously spilled onto the floor. Raika resumed inch worm mode and scooted over to retrieve her PDA.
Her captor had made a second oversight. Raika was securely bound – it would have taken hours, maybe days, to untie herself. Nonetheless, her wrists, while tied together, were not connected to another body part. The hogtie cord ran from her elbow ropes directly to her feet. This was normal, but previous hogties had also featured wrists attached to the ankles or her waist. Therefore, Raika could manipulate her hands slightly. This bit of freedom enabled Raika to perform some astonishing tasks.
"Leela, I need you to tell me when I have successfully dialed my assistant." Raika dialed with her bound hands. Leela grunted that she was successful. Raika selected the speaker button and placed the PDA on the floor and quickly rotated onto her stomach towards the PDA. She was laying in a prone hogtie.
Excruciatingly, the phone rang five times. Both women squirmed in anticipation. Holly answered. "Hello."
Elated Raika responded, "Holly it's me."
"Raika, where are you? Are you okay? Turn on your GPS."
"I'm just a little tied up. So is Leela. But we'll be okay. We're cooperating with kidnapper. She has kept us in nice little packages but otherwise we're not in trouble. We are helping her access the Kensington account. Once the download goes through she will let us go."
"How do you know?"
"Because she won't need us after the program runs and we don't know her identity. The GPS is on. But I need you to do something more important."
"I need you to email me patch 9.3 from my desktop to my PDA account."
Thirty seconds passed. The PDA buzzed.
Holly responded, "Done... I am getting a reading on your location. I can be there in an hour. Should I call the police?"
"No, this process has to finish. We can't inform the authorities without serious ramifications for our client. This patch will undo the transfer of funds. Call the police in two hours."
"Yes ma'am. But I am worried about you."
Holly hung up. Raika turned to Leela. "This patch should alter the programming. The funds will go to another account without detection. I will transfer it to the computer. I can't see the display and type on the keyboard at the same time. I need you to tell me when it's on the desktop and then guide the pointer."
Leela nodded in assent.
Raika took the detachable keyboard and plugged it into the laptop. She started guiding the mouse with bound hands. "I always claimed I could program with my hands tied behind my back. Guess now I'm doing it... Has the program downloaded?" Leela nodded. "Tell me when the cursor is over the object." Leela grunted and Raika double clicked.
Raika instructed "Check for typos." Raika tapped in a couple lines of code and hit enter. Leela exclaimed in her best gag talk. "Okay," and raised her thumbs. The patch began to run.
Raika explained her actions. "This patch will transfer the moneys back to appropriate accounts in two days. I know the offshore banks where these accounts are located. She won't be able to withdraw the funds unless the she appears in person. We won't let this bitch get the best of us. Time to get back into position."
Raika disconnected the keyboard and inched over to the table. She hastily replaced the spilled items into the computer bag, hoping that their tormentor would not notice. She slid the PDA underneath the couch to prevent discovery. Raika worked her mouth over the previously discarded packing. She slowly chewed it back into place. The resolute attorney then rolled the thin cord back into its discomfiting position, securing the packing and biting at the corners of her mouth.
She smoothed the tape back onto her face. Checking her image in the table, the comely attorney admired herself for a few seconds and then proceeded back to her original position. In ten minutes she was halfway there, when the computer process completed and Aimee, their captor, entered the townhouse. Incongruously, she was pulling a child's wagon.
Aimee laughed "All done. Time to find a new hideout. I heard sirens earlier. You didn't call them did you?" She looked over at the blind, deaf and dumb owner. "Of course not. How about my worker bees? I don't think so either. You look so cute all packaged up."
Her overconfidence will prove her downfall. Leela mused to herself.
Aimee then noticed that Raika was not in her original position. "Trying to move around, eh? Is that how far you got in two hours? Still it is not good behavior." She smacked Raika twice on the ass. "How about a stricter position? Would you like that?"
Raika yelped through the packing shook her head negatively. Such appeals did not affect her captor.
"I am going to have to redo all your bonds." Aimee began retightening the knots on Raika's wrists and elbows. Raika winced as the ropes were pulled even tighter. "How 'bout a ball tie like your co-worker? She doesn't seem to have restlessness that you do."
In about five quick movements, Raika was identically tied like Leela. Aimee reviewed the computer, "Looks like my account is filling. Excellent. Time to go. I could leave you girls here but I need a hostage." Aimee gestured to the townhouse owner," I really don't like that one. So it's one of you two. Fortunately, I don't need you both." Both captives pleaded with their eyes to accompany Aimee and spare their colleague.
The decision was interrupted by someone entering the townhouse and yelling "I'm home!" Ami picked up some rope and raced off. Raika and Leela resumed their futile struggles. Fifteen minutes later, Ami returned.
Aimee returned to her decision, "Eenie Meenie Minie Moe," she joked. She lifted Raika by her torso ropes and set in her the wagon. "I stole it from the neighbors," admitted Aimee. Raika was rolled to the garage and deposited her in the trunk of a sedan parked there. She remained in the trunk for the thirty minute trip to Aimee's lair.
Chapter 7 - Prologue to an Adventure (added: 07/31/2011)
DATE: January 10, 2006
LOCATION: ELAN AND ASSOCIATES
Rebecca Lorgen approached Ms. Kaldur's offices with resignation. Her clients did not have a tenable position. This meeting was charitable from the other side's perspective. Nonetheless, many businesses were reluctant to literally take money from widows and orphans.
Rebecca had practiced law for twenty three years. This was not one of her favorite moments. A giant hedge fund held the option to purchase a lucrative office complex in Boom City. The present beneficiaries, heirs to a one hundred year old benevolent bequest, had received rents from various tenants. Now the trust was expiring. A spendthrift heir to the fortune had foolishly signed over this future interest to one of the most rapacious assholes in the Western Hemisphere.
Ms. Kaldur represented that asshole along with numerous others. The six foot three statuesque blonde with ice blue eyes had struck out on her own three years ago. She was famous for being flanked by identical associates who were slightly shorter versions of her. The trio was a mainstay of cable television, which never failed to cover their pronouncements from the courthouse steps.
As Trustee, Rebecca was legally bound to reach an agreement today. If she could stall past midnight, the trust could entertain new offers but her opponents had obtained a court order to execute an agreement today. All she could do is maybe obtain a little extra money for the beneficiaries.
Ms Lorgen sat opposite the trio at a conference table in Ms. Kaldur's spacious office. She conceded the obvious immediately, "Looks like you have me over a barrel here."
"More like tied over a barrel with a gag in your mouth." Ms. Kaldur unintentionally foreshadowed the room's fate. "Nothing you can do or say tonight can prevent the transfer. As you well recognize, your sole role is to execute the documents. Regardless, my client has gratuitously added half a million to the beneficiaries. "
"That is less than five thousand per widow or orphan. How will they survive?"
Ms. Kaldur's associate forcefully shoved the document across the table. "Sign please." The trio was not hired for their empathy.
Rebecca grasped the pen with a sigh of resignation. Her hand reached down to form the "R" when the door opened with a crash.
Into the office came the receptionist, a brunette pixie with her hands tied behind her back, her eyes wild over the red ball in her mouth and a gun held to her head.
"I suggest you don't sign that, keep your hands on the table where I can see them." commanded the armed, hooded and leather clad tigress. Rebecca recognized her as a Catgirl.
The multiple felon trained her Beretta on the attorneys while she slid the whimpering receptionist face down onto the marble conference table.
Retaining her grip on the gun, the unwelcome assailant deftly performed a one handed hitch to hogtie her hostage. Then she slid the small duffle over to the older woman to her right and barked, "Open it."
Rebecca unzipped the duffle. Inside were numerous coils of rope, Coban, and about a dozen ball gags.
"Pass out the red balls."
"You know what to do. Buckle them tight or I will do it for you." Each of the normally confident attorneys meekly strapped on the mouth filling contraptions.
Aimee pointed her pistol to the left, "You three, come over here and lie on your stomachs and grasp your ankles behind you." The blond trio assented and assumed prostrate positions on the Persian rug.
Aimee turned her attention to older yet comely woman. Her distinguished mien remained despite the big red ball in her mouth. Without prompting she put her hands behind her back. Aimee secured the counselor's hands and feet, tied her to the chair with some rope at her waist and turned her attention to the gagged and prostrate trio.
Rebecca marveled at how quickly their assailant rendered helpless each of the blond attorneys. Bringing each to their knees one at a time, she tied their wrists, elbows chests and ankles. Then she inserted ear plugs. The Coban wrap was then wound over the ball gags, ears and eyes. Each of the girls was then helped face down on the Persian rug. The process culminated in three strictly hog tied, silenced, blind, and deaf captives. The receptionist received the exact same treatment on the conference table. The whole process did not take more than fifteen minutes.
It was now Rebecca's turn. The rope attaching her to her chair was removed and wrapped above and below her ample bosoms. Rebecca was offended that her elbows were not compressed together like the others. It was a concession to her age but Rebecca followed a daily flexibility regimen. She could take it like her younger counterparts.
Nonetheless she was effectively bound and gagged. As the Coban constricted her chin, she felt it push the ball further into her mouth. Fortunately, one of the ear plugs fell out. She was blind mute and couldn't move her arms or legs. But she could hear out of one ear.
Suddenly the conference room door opened again. Rebecca could detect two sets of stiletto heels click on the tile floor.
"Courtney's not at her desk again... What the Hell!?"
Then followed a martial arts scream, the sound of a foot to the gut and a thump on the floor.
"Holly! ... There's no need for the gun. We'll cooperate. Looks like you have plenty of rope. You can tie us up like the others."
Rebecca recognized the voice from the monthly Women's' Bar Association conclaves. It was Raika Élan, the named partner. Holly must be that paralegal that always accompanies her.
"I will tie her up exactly like the others, then you can do me... There's plenty of money in my purse."
"No more talking. Put one of those red balls in your mouth,"
Rebecca heard some more shuffling about and then a door close. Thinking her captor gone, she struggled out of the chair and on to the floor. Despite all her writhing she could not loosen any of her bonds. She could hear the others futile efforts.
A few minutes later the door opened again and Rebecca was lifted up.
"Where do you think you're going?" It was the voice of her captor but in a singsong tone, "you're coming with me. My client would be very upset if you got free and signed those papers."
As she was being carried over burglar's shoulder on the way out the door, Rebecca realized what was happening. Under a very old Reservation Ordinance, being bound and gagged was a complete defense to an absolute duty. This exception curiously only applied to women. Despite her discomfort, she was elated. If she remained like this for next five hours or so, the deal could not go through and the trust would renew again for twenty years.
Over in the Kitchenette, Raika was hogtied, blinded, deafened, and gagged like the others. Raika paid rapt attention as she was being tied, making a note of every knot and hitch.
Now she took stock her situation. Her arms were cruelly restricted behind her, elbows touching. Ropes compressed her arms to her body. Her legs were tied together at the thighs and above and below the knees. Her ankles were connected to her chest harness, pulled up so tautly that she could grab the heels of her Manolo pumps. This was the same way she tied up Holly.
A two inch ball filled her mouth. A copious amount of medical wrapping encased her lower jaw. More covered her hears and eyes. She was encased in solitude. Finding a knife in one of the drawers would be impossible. Raika realized that she could not extricate herself without help.
After a couple of wrong turns, Raika got her bearings and squirmed her way to the conference room door. She sidled her way through the swinging door and attempted to find Holly. Deprived of sight and sound, she detected the scent of Holly's perfume. With a great deal of exertion she squirmed next to the struggling Holly. Although they could make some sounds through the balls in their mouths, the earplugs prevented any audible communication.
Raika pressed her chin into Holly's right buttock. The paralegal immediately identified her boss' face pressing against her fingers. Holly discerned that Raika wanted to remove her gag. Feeling the Coban, Holly frantically searched for an end. Raika turned her head to facilitate the process but it took almost ten minutes to find an end.
Holly found the end and tugged. Raika, elated with their first breakthrough, began rolling on the floor while Holly held on to the end. Raika rolled about three feet, spinning slowly despite her trussed state. Eventually the wrap loosened and fell off.
Raika became the only one with the benefit of sight. She looked at the other captives in the room. All struggled but did not make any progress escaping. Ms. Kaldur, for one, reacted violently to being trussed up. The Amazon thrust and groaned in frustration. Still, she could hardly move. One of the associates had rolled over her side and could not roll back over again. The poor receptionist was too afraid to move, for fear she would fall off the table.
Raika slithered back over to Holly and placed the nape of her neck next to Holly's fingers. Holly, being familiar with ball gags, reached for the buckle. After what seemed like an eternity, Holly undid it. The ball bounced on the Persian rug.
"Thanks Holly!" Raika chimed to her fellow captive, although the latter could not hear her, and commenced chewing at the knots at Holly's ankles. That knot undone, Holly stretched her legs out. Raika writhed onto Holly's back. Raika gnawed at Holly's elbow bonds. Raika's undulations and compressed breasts against her forearms proved oddly erotic to Holly.
Her elbow bonds loosened, Holly opened her arms so that Raika could nibble at her wrists. Once her wrists were uncoupled, Holly removed her bonds and freed the others.
About a month later, Rebecca arrived late to a Chamber of Commerce gathering. Lily Whitetail, the youngest Tribal Councilwoman ever, was concluding here speech:
"... Our little reservation has always lived up to its "Boom City" moniker. We profited from the Gold Rush, the timber expansion, sulfur mining, World War II, and the Information revolution. Our history of tolerance has fostered a vibrant tourism industry. Our business friendly policies have created thriving financial enclave. Our population exceeded three hundred thousand at the last census and it certain to top three hundred fifty thousand at the next. Our future is very bright."
The speech elicited subdued yet sincere applause from the gathering. Rebecca observed the hundred or so guests in attendance. They represented Boom City's elite, both native and migrant. Unlike similar gatherings in other cities, almost three quarters of the power brokers were female.
The aboriginal tribe of the Kinked Wrist Reservation -- although everyone called it Boom City after its transformation to a munitions manufacturing center during World War II -- developed as a matriarchy. This tradition survived and attracted many ambitious women who felt stunted in their own communities. A women's college founded in 1907, was one the first to exclusively train women in the hard sciences. Many innovative firms flowered in its shadow. While many male residents were content to service the harbor at union wages, speculate in the markets, gamble at the casinos, or travel to the nearby mines, the women residents settled into the professions. The men in attendance were most likely transplants, local potentates of corporations who had recently established offices in Boom City.
Rebecca spotted an extremely attractive Japanese girl in a skirted business suit standing alone in the corner. Rebecca grabbed two glasses and approached.
"Ms. Élan, would like a Cabernet?"
"Thank you. I don't think we've had the pleasure..."
"Oh we have but I was in no position to shake hands."
"You're Rebecca Loregon? I did not recognize you without Coban over your face. How did you survive the ordeal?"
"Well she kept me for about five hours. We went to a hotel and watched a movie. At midnight she called for room service and left. It was quite pleasant considering the circumstances. My clients ended up with forty million. Unfortunately I don't work on commission."
Ms. Élan's eyes grew wide with interest. "Well my partner's client was not happy. Nor was my partner but she'll get over it. You were tied up the whole time?"
"Yes. But she was nice enough to remove the blindfold. " Rebecca took a sip from her glass and used the moment to admire her interlocutor's curvaceous figure. The Asian's raised eyebrows prompted her to continue.
"It's a bit of an honor to be captured by Ms. DeLigotage." Rebecca signaled to a comely African American woman to approach the pair.
"I thought it was the Catgirl." Ms. Élan inquired.
"In a way yes, there are a few 'Catgirls' prowling Boom City, but Ms. DeLigotage is renowned for professionalism and audacity."
"Ms. Élan, may I introduce Annette Scales, she's in international shipping. Annette, please tell us about your encounter with the notorious Aimee De Ligotage."
"I'll spare you the details. She stole a shipment from me. But that was not enough. Had to truss me up like a turkey. Not enjoyable at all. But everyone wants to hear the story. I became something of a celebrity. Apparently, it is some sort of bizarre honor around here. It attests to one's beauty and wealth. So Ms. Élan, I heard you received a similar honor. Why did you locate in Boom City?"
"I really like being tied up." She quipped with a deadpan expression. All three guffawed. "No really, I heard about the Reservation's reputation for commercial and social libertarianism. If we had heard of Ms. Ligotage, we may have reconsidered."
Ms. Scales concurred, "There are definitely fewer barriers to commerce. Our firm is certainly prospering... Excuse me I gotta go talk to Inspector Means and ask her for the hundredth time she hasn't caught that bitch. I think she's on the take."
Ms. Élan, her interest piqued, looked for more context. "So this Ms. DeLigotage, has never been caught?"
"Means caught her once, but the girl escaped from prison within two months. The rumor is that she is protected by the Council."
"Why is that? Has she got a relative?"
"To the contrary, she is an immigrant. But Aimee hasn't caused any permanent damage. The scuttlebutt is she does favors for the Council. "
"Like what happened at my offices?"
"Perhaps, the outcome was certainly more to the Council's preferences."
"Well between the two of us, that hedge fund would have been a horrible neighbor." Raika conspiratorially winked.
A conversational lull emerged, Rebecca attempted to fill it with some trivia, "The first white women were brought here against their will, hence the name Kinked Wrist."
"Really?" the Japanese girl with perky breasts evinced a mischievous smile. "Perhaps you can propound on this subject at a later date? I need to arrange and introduction."
"You aren't dismayed by your mishap?"
"I have literally been in tougher binds."
Rebecca was not sure if she was actually speaking figuratively, but Ms. Élan sped off to engage Ms. Whitetail before she could ask her.
Chapter 8 - Role Play (added: 07/31/2011)
DATE: SEPTEMBER 1, 2006
TIME: 12:16 AM
LOCATION: AIMEE'S LAIR, THE FAVELA
Safely back at Aimee's hideout, Raika's rope bonds were traded for a leather cuff ensemble. The fleece lining soothed her tenderized skin. Showered, nourished, and changed, Raika wore a school girl style plaid skirt, knee socks, four inch pumps, and a black sports bra. Her bra was pulled down to expose her breasts. Aimee had pulled it down to "massage" them. Her hair was pulled up in a pony tail.
She wore cuffs at her wrists, ankles, knees, and elbows. Small padlocks secured each of these cuffs. Ms. Élan 's mouth was filled with a 3 inch red ball in a harness style gag. The strap under her chin ensured that she could not expel it. Her arms were secured behind her back and she was loosely hogtied with a leather strap. She knelt with her torso erect against the back of a cushioned chair. A television afforded entertainment.
In contrast to the previous two days, this was paradise. During the ruse to convince Ms. Rashir to cooperate, Raika suffered numerous whippings, clampings, insertions, abrasions, heating, freezing, and stress positions. Once returned to her lair, Aimee treated Raika to the best possible treatment a kidnapper could accord her under the circumstances.
Although Raika was tied to the towel rack, she most enjoyed showering with Aimee. Aimee was sure to thoroughly cleanse Raika's womanhood. The detachable shower head proved quite stimulating, evidenced by repeated moans through the sponge in her mouth. After the shower, Aimee combed Raika's hair and applied her makeup. Then she spoiled Raika with a much deserved rub down. The agreeable leather cuffs were applied for dinner. Aimee hand fed the blindfolded Raika a delectable sashimi repast. Once finished, Raika was gagged so that Aimee could complete her meal.
Having finished eating, Aimee entered the room. Raika turned her head with pleading eyes. She grunted in an effort to communicate. Aimee removed the gag. The two enjoyed a long passionate kiss, tongues firmly down each other's throat. Aimee's hands skillfully teased her captive's erogenous regions.
The attorney gasped, "Did you check to see if the money has moved to the alternate account?"
"Yes it did" cooed Aimee, "Your plan worked brilliantly."
"I'm sure it would," Raika answered. "Did you make the ransom demand?"
"Not yet, I think we should send them some tapes of you in distress."
Raika perked up, "That is a capital idea. Much as I like this set up -- secure yet comfortable -- I do the truly enjoy the bite of your rope."
Aimee smiled, "The feeling is mutual. You are a fun and lucrative captive. But let's start on the rope games tomorrow. I have some really fiendish tortures for you."
"I can't wait." replied Raika. "We need to stretch this out. I am the only one who can prevent these small transfers of funds. They will know that they are losing money, but they won't know where it is going or how to stop it without my input. After two weeks, there should be over $1,200,000 in the account."
"The real account or the dummy account?"
The duplicitous barrister outlined the con, "The dummy account. Once you return me, I will claw back those funds. The much smaller transfers to the real accounts will continue for six months or so."
"Excellent, I get to keep you captive for the next couple of weeks. You are the best business partner/damsel-in-distress I have ever had. This greedy burglar is actually satisfied with a fifty/fifty split."
"Good to hear. Consider my captivity your tip. I am yours to play with until the 'ransom' is paid. You didn't hear it from me but our insurance policy pays fifty thousand in the event of a kidnapping... I don't need to remind you, but I just enjoy saying it. You have to keep it believable. In the unlikely event that anyone discovers me in your hideout, I want them to find me stringently bound and gagged." Raika gestured to her bonds. "This set up is nice and secure, but rope is more fun. I noticed a myriad of possibilities for positions as we passed through your dungeon."
"Oh yes my dear," cooed Aimee, "We will have some fun. Suspensions, predicaments, the stripper pole, the possibilities are endless. This place has numerous anchor points. I will give you a full tour ... But that starts tomorrow. Care to join me in bed?"
"Don't you think it is too soon to reward me?"
"The reward shall be all mine. Can you stay like this tonight?"
"Sure I have slept hogtied plenty of times. Can you take off my shoes?"
"I am going to rip off all your clothes. Then you can fall asleep to my caresses and kisses – and vibrator. My little gold mine."
"I have to warn you that I snore. So you'd better put that gag back in."
Aimee complied with the request and the couple retreated to the bedroom, Raika serving as shoulder candy. Each excited with anticipation for the adventure ahead. The next morning they decided to make a little tape.
Even though it was for show, Raika was in real distress. A video camera recorded her dire condition. The attorney's vagina, nipples, arms, legs, and neck ached. Hot wax scalded her torso. She had trouble breathing due the noose around her throat. If she tried to relieve the pressure on her neck by extending her toes, the clamps on her labia pulled tighter. Two more clamps bit into her nipples. These clamps were attached by a chain and weighted down with three large padlocks. Her captor had applied liniment to her vagina, anus, and nipples. Each of these regions burned with pain. Tears streamed down Raika's face. Rivers of mascara blackened her bulging cheeks.
She could not bear the torture. To compound the agony, Aimee adroitly whipped her ass, thighs, nether lips, and breasts with a rawhide quirt. Raika screamed through the wadding in her mouth. Her cries were clearly audible on the videotape. They conveyed the intended message.
Raika's only clothes were pink (to match her pink gag) garter belt, red high heels and black thigh high stockings.
Aimee began the ransom demand, "As you can see, I have transformed her into my plaything. After I am bored with her, I expect to be compensated for her return. If I am not, I will guarantee that Ms. Élan will suffer a most horrible end."
Aimee brandished a knife, threatening her captive, whose eyes opened wide with trepidation. Raika winced as the blade approached her face. But instead of scarring or injuring the comely captive, Aimee used the blade to cut the vet wrap that held Ms. Élan's gag in place. Aimee inserted in fingers into Raika's orifice. One, two, three wads of cloth were removed from her mouth.
Raika choked, "Please stop, they get the message!"
Aimee countered with her whip. "Insolent bitch, were you given permission to speak?"
For each lashing, Raika convulsed with a paroxysm of audible weeping. She could not avoid the blows because she was adeptly secured to a seven foot step ladder. Raika sat on the second step. Her legs were tied separately to the legs of the ladder. Her hands and elbows were tied behind her back over the third step. A crotch rope cleaved her vagina and held a large dildo in her ass. More ropes fastened her upper body to the ladder. Her thighs were tied with a bar wrap, holding them eight inches apart.
Her noose ran up to the ceiling, down the back of the ladder and then attached to her crotch rope, pressuring both neck and muff. The labia clamps were secured by chains to the foot of the ladder. Any movement upward to relieve her breathing stretched that tender region to the breaking point. Raika had found her subspace a while ago, but the added torment was breaking her. She was willing to give up a million just to make it stop.
Aimee continued her discourse. "I will play with this one for another week. Then she will begin to bore me. Expect ransom demand and instructions this Friday."
Aimee pinched Raika's nose. When the tormented girl gasped for air, Aimee forcefully returned the three handkerchiefs to Raika's mouth. A few yards of new vet wrap fastened in place. She then returned to beating the poor girl while the video recorder ran. Raika eventually went limp in surrender. She had entered a meditative state beyond her usual sub space.
Under the watchful eye of Aimee, Raika awoke to find herself hogtied on a rubber mat next to the ladder in the garage. Despite the rigor, Aimee ensured that no permanent damage befell the distressed damsel. Raika's arms were in the more bearable shinju position. This position featured the arms in a hammerlock and less pressure on the wrists. Raika had once endured a weekend with her arms tied this way without any adverse reaction. Her stocking feet were crossed and tied. Cooling salve had been applied to areas that were formerly scorched with hot ointment. The clamps were removed. The dastardly crotch rope and the jaw stretching gag remained.
"Sorry about that dear. Realism is important. And I was having too much fun. Are you okay? I have other errands. Can you remain this way for three hours or so?"
Raika was tempted to shake her head "No." She wanted nothing more than to be released. But her pride took over. She would persevere. Raika winked at Aimee.
"Excellent my dear," Aimee affectionately patted her on the head. "When I get back, I will be in the mood to celebrate. Our play will be much more sensual. Perhaps the strap-on? "
The suggestion elated the curvaceous attorney. While she did not eschew men, Raika loved to be bound, gagged, and fucked by a beautiful woman. She would have smiled but for the enormous obstruction in her mouth.
Chapter 9 (added: 2013/08/09)
DATE: September 8TH, 2006
TIME: 3:13 am
LOCATION: SHELOB'S LAIR: OLD MUNITIONS DISTRICT
Raika's first impression was of her ass, two perfect semicircles accentuated by her unorthodox -- at least outside of Shelob's Lair -- position. Such impeccability suggested the divine, it could not be reproduced by human hands. Only a drafter's compass could render such fine lines. Their curvature accentuated by the spandex, their subtle movement fixing Raika's gaze.
They were up in the performers' lounge, Aimee in her robe and Raika completely nude save for rope, a full hood and some dried wax from a show that brought down the house. Her arms still tied behind her, the barrister sipped a Mai Tai through a straw.
Raika elated with her earlier performance thought to herself, "Thank god she took me out of the house. I know there's the whole I'm supposed to be kidnapped, but lying on a mattress or watching TV all day does get boring."
Aimee took her to Shelob's Lair, a notorious S&M performance venue located deep in the Bottoms. Raika wearing only rope and a leather hood for plausible deniability, but everyone in the club could make an educated guess. The news reports buzzed about her adventures and leaked photos of her bound and gagged caused a international sensation.
Ever the exhibitionist, Raika loved for others to gawk at her bound beauty. The audience was quite familiar with Ami DeLigotage. Their Shibari suspension received a rapturous ovation. Raika the bondage slut had mesmerized the crowd, but she seethed with envy at the bound form being carried into the lounge.
The object of envy served as shoulder candy for a testosterone fueled Argentine, Esmeralda from Harrisburg PA , who called herself the "Secuestradora." Aimee's greatest rival on the Rez. Aimee had a low opinion of all her rivals, but she would deign, in respect to beauty alone, to go down on Esmeralda from Harrisburg PA. The Secuestradora had never been south of the Mason Dixon line and could speak but a hundred words of Spanish.
A smaller woman, she had to rely on chloro, but once she got them subdued, transformed her captives into works of art; invariably using 3/8 off white (just like Esmeralda) sash cord with frayed ends to create serious distress. Esmeralda specialized in merciless positions that only the toughest and most flexible girls could handle. Her shoulder candy epitomized her work.
But the woman on her shoulder looked calm, considering she was hogtied and well done. Her body was constricted every six inches or so with a remorseless cinch. She was wearing odd baby blue shoes with seven inch pink heels, black spandex pants, and two arms ripped from a pink sweater. The last part very much needed to endure the extremely forced chicken wing bondage which held her arms motionless.
She looked about six foot three propped up by the undersized Esmeralda, but was probably five nine and one hundred and thirty pounds. Raika got a better view when Esmeralda set her down underneath the table. Her arms, wrenched into a triangle, were tied parallel behind her, the wrists bent and fingers waving uselessly, far from any accessible knot. Six strands, strictly cinched, deep ran from her lower forearms over the top of her tits. This bond forced her arms up and back, elbows together and jutting out, hence the chicken wing.
Raika had watched their performance with awe. The blonde came on stage dressed in spandex pants and a pink sweater those incredibly cute heels and her hands tied behind her. Esmeralda roped a broad noose around her neck. Tied to a ring above, it steadied the victim. The leather clad dominatrix weaved a tortoise shell pattern around the waist and crotch and securing the wrists to the small of the back.
Their performance drew ecstatic applause that outdid Raika's. Esmeralda's girl, Sydney, clearly enjoyed the treatment, wincing and smiling at each application of rope, or grope or smack of her ass. The overjoyed audience cooed in reaction. Pouting with a sardonic smile at her treatment, expressing a mixture of surprise and titillation, or emitting a giggle, Sydney hypnotized the crowd. As her tormentor drew each cord tight, Sydney slowly realized she was fucked, her increasing distress profoundly palpable.
Constricting cinches were tied at the feet, ankles, mid-calf, just above the calf, above the knees, mid thigh and across the thighs at the camel toe. The girl smiled as each rope was applied, marveling at the handiwork. That smile disappeared with the application of a two inch ball, nonetheless, the fetching blonde readily acquiesced. Moreover, the twinkle in her eyes remained as her elbows were compressed together.
Esmeralda moved deliberately but swiftly, tying on the shoes, yanking the elbows up into a full strappado, arms almost vertical. The noose was removed and the crank turned a couple of more times. Knees slightly bent, drooling profusely. Sydney tried to maintain her balance with tiny hops on her towering heels.
After most of the pink sweater was removed with a switchblade, more unrelenting cords were applied to her chest, accentuating her already prominent bust. Esmeralda, clad in obsidian hued leather and gaucho's hat, revolved around her victim, pitiless and swift in the application of bondage. The subject reacted to each and every turn of the rope and the crowd stood mesmerized by one so lovely and in love with rope.
A special detail: a little breast bondage. Her leopard skin bra snipped off, two single strands of line constricted each of her naturals. Her billowing mammaries resembled mushrooms under the restraint, the capillaries and veins bulging under the pressure. Esmeralda flamboyantly clamped and weighted the pierced nipples.
The torturer left the stage to refresh herself, the captive writhed in painful ecstasy, evidenced by her murmurs from behind the large red ball. The crowd tittered with adoration for both her beauty and her reaction. Esmeralda motioned for the crowd to come up and inspect Sydney up close. Many took her up on the offer, prodding and groping the bound form with adoration.
A few minutes later, the leather bound gaucho returned for a round with the single tail. From about three meters, she deftly struck her target, drawing small welts in the buttocks, chest and other exposed flesh. The captive squealed with each blow, barely able to keep her balance. Her arms pulled up high behind her, she could not avoid the blows. The crowd applauded each pinpointed snap of the tail.
Satisfied with her efforts Esmeralda decided to provide a little respite. The gag was removed. The arms were cut down and the prisoner plopped down on a handy stool. But where some relief was given, more punishment was exacted: a rag stuffed in the mouth and secured with clear cellophane tape. Her chin and cheeks indented from the compression of the wrap holding the large rag in place. The mirthful expression disappeared and she sniffled, trying to take it all in. Esmeralda converted her captive into the chicken wing hogtie and carried her off the stage to a standing ovation, clearly upstaging Aimee's and Raika's well received Shibari routine.
"We need to talk" Esmeralda motioned over to an open table in the Performer's lounge.
Aimee followed suit, quickly hogtying Raika with her fellow captive underneath the table. The captors got down the business, at their feet two gorgeous women thoroughly hogtied. Raika, her senses heightened due to her helplessness, could hear the conversation clearly over the din of the club.
Esmeralda consisted of one hundred and twelve pounds of injected testosterone and silicon poured into a five foot two frame. She had mad skills: archery, horseback riding, marksmanship, anesthesiology, things that go boom et alia. Groomed for her profession at age three by a mother who taught her and her sisters to dominate, the inveterate Catgirl's ill gotten gains matched Aimee's in most years.
"Before we get down to business, Essie, who's the skank?" Aimee was the only person on the Rez who could address her as such.
"The skank is Dr. Sydney Berkshire, Professor of Psychiatry at the College. I went to her for some counseling."
"Ah the Secudora has some daddy issues?" Aimee snarked purposely getting Esmeralda's moniker wrong.
"Although you're a total bitch, we get along because we hate each other so much," Esmeralda riposted, "but enough of the sexual tension, we need to discuss business our way of life may be threatened."
Aimee still snarked "You have a problem, and for once it does not concern your flabby ass."
"Fucking be serious for once." Aimee's smirk disappeared and Esmeralda continued, "There's a new Catgirl causing serious trouble."
"They come and go. I'll deal with her like all my rivals."
"This one is different. She leads a gang of six women. The rumor is that they are from the college."
"So what? You and I have nothing to fear from dilettantes." Aimee sneered.
"True. But these girls are breaking the rules. They have no respect."
"Kids these days..."
"This is no time for jokes Aimee. These amateurs are fucking things up. Too many serious injuries. They robbed the casino. Took over a million."
"Shit. That is going to bring some serious heat. What I am supposed to do?"
Esmeralda smiled, realizing that she finally got Aimee's attention. "The Council will be in touch." She placed her hand on Aimee's cheek. "I look forward to working with you."
Aimee, the alcohol giving her a little courage, slightly changed the subject, "Please tell me more about your shrink. Maybe we can trade for a while. This Nip is too valuable to give up but I could be convinced to rent her out." Raika both abhorred and welcomed falling prey to the Secuestadora.
"An enticing offer. I caught the last bit of your show. I would love to show your little lawyer true domination."
Aimee riposted the insult, "Seeing the good doctor for megalomania?"
Esmeralda grinned, "Just a little fine tuning to stay on top. We eventually got to my profession. She asked to sample my skills. During each session I would tie her up and she would listen to my problems. She is a great bottom, flexible, sexy and enthusiastic. She suggested a three day kidnapping. We're just finishing day two of her 'vacation.'"
Despite the miles of rope, the blond girl rolled over onto her side. Raika recognized she was showing off. Still, she had to admire her beauty and the strictness of her bondage. Raika knew how difficult it was to move in such a constricting position.
Now she was positioned so that Raika could stare her right into her azure eyes. Companions in distress, Raika knew she had it much better, a simple yet strict hogtie where the ropes bit into her flesh and a large obstruction filled her mouth. She was inured to such treatment and it appeared her companion was inured to her much harsher condition, completely wrapped in rope, arms jerked back and pulled up simultaneously, a large rag filling her wide open mouth. She was on her side glaring at Raika. Motionless, she could only roll her eyes, pleading for mercy. As if Raika could do anything about it if she wanted to. Yet Sydney remained cruelly tied in this position while their captors imbibed and concluded their business. In fact she remained in that position until morning.
Aimee, imbued with whiskey tinged courage, propositioned, "Since the end is near, why don't we go back to your place?"
Esmeralda glanced down at her feet. "What are these two going to do?"
"They can watch. I'll let you fuck with mine if I can fuck with yours."
To Raika's dismay, Esmeralda and Aimee were too infatuated with each other. She never made it to the conjugal bed. She and Sydney observed the orgasmathon from hard backed chairs. Suffering in bound frustration while their captors ravished each other. At least they were kind enough to exchange the cruel hemp for some relatively comfortable leather single gloves and straps.
Chapter 10 (added: 2013/09/27)
Date: September 13, 2006
Location: Women's Technical College
Time: 11:24 am
The day started pretty promising, a potential half million tied up in the core business plus a couple thou for some Moonlightin'. Real pleasant work: pick up and deliver six college debs in four hours. A challenge but one she always met. Besides each one is a set up to speed her progress.
And now she had one in the tank, the cutest little Asian. God, she loved college girls. Nabbed her doing scuba lessons, ordered by the Sisters, someone had to pick up the jewelry that drops in the water. Pretty simple, lock a weight around the ankle, get control of her oxygen, turn it off for ten seconds or so, hand her a laminated sheet with following printed in big black letters:
I CONTROL YOUR OXYGEN
HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK
Not surprisingly, she got rapid compliance. The little Korean girl ended up in a University van, -- Aimee possessed full campus credentials, a well fitted campus security uniform, and a pass card that opened the necessary facilities -- in a standard tie: hands behind, arms bound to torso and elbows pulled back but not touching, legs together at knees and feet, something large in her mouth.
The University van, a large Dodge that was especially equipped with tinted bulletproof glass. So well armored it could almost stop an RPG. No worries about her abductees' safety.
None of these girls posed much of a threat. These were sorority girls on Hell week. There she sat, tucked in with standard the safety restraints, pulled to their tightest, An important detail that revealed Aimee's professionalism. The captive was none too worried. Aimee had informed her that it was just part of hazing. She was nice to this girl, because of the nature of their introduction and the girl's demeanor. Aimee did not hear so much as an MMMPPH from her the whole day.
Aimee looked into the rear view mirror, Mouth forced wide with a 1 ˝ inch ball, covered with many turns of latex. In fact she used a lot of it, extended to maximum tension it reached two hundred meters, inescapably trapping her captive. Aimee liked how it adhered to the Body Glove. The different approximations of aquamarine made it difficult to determine where the suit stopped and the bondage started.
Joi, born Han Jin Jun, but Joi was so much easier for white people, sat straight up halfway awake. She had been read the contract and understood her plight. She was asked if she had ever been tied up before. She lied and said no. She was on you tube because of a camp prank (78,000 views!). Before the blue ball stifled her speech, she asked "how long will I be tied up?" At the answer of all day, she just sighed and accepted her plight.
In junior high, her friends at Oriental Prep established on the Rez in 1946, did a soap opera where the audience determined the plot. Most of the suggestions started with damsel in distress tropes. They did a lot variations on girl tied to the railroad tracks. Then the requests for bondage got more explicit. "Make it real you don't look helpless. You call that a gag?" Then creepy, "run your hands through her underwear drawer," so their parents made them shut it down. Jin never understood the appeal of bondage, but was game enough to be tied up.
Two more captives quickly followed. A Barbie Doll in a nurse uniform and a muscle bound fitness freak. They were similarly muffled and tied but with rope. The "nurse" had been forced to work for a perverted old doctor who insisted on an old style uniform. Aimee subdued her with a little ether she mixed up in the lab. The fitness freak unwittingly consented to bondage as a specialized training technique. According to Aimee's Movado, she was eighteen minutes ahead of schedule.
Aimee checked her list. Nan Drew, the next victim, would be on the Lilac Inn. The vintage cabin cruiser belonged to an old time alumnus of the Sorority. Her sisters developed an elaborate back story that sent this poor girl on a snipe hunt. The twists and turns led the indefatigable amateur detective to the slip. The plucky Nan anticipated recovering the missing diamond, endearing herself to the Board of Trustees, and grabbing a juicy reward for solving this mystery. Aimee arrived fifteen minutes before Nan, who was following a decoy, "Omar," the lead suspect. Omar went up the gangplank and over the side to a dinghy and the nearest bayside bar.
Aimee ogled Nan's ass up the gangplank. A slim strawberry blonde with a Sandra Dee hairstyle, she looked out of place in her brown pencil skirt, fitted thin gray wool pullover, and high heeled oxfords. Her hips swaying as she ambled up the incline, Nan looked around to see if anyone was watching. Aimee unconsciously licked her lips. It was almost as if the girl was aware of Aimee's presence. Nan jimmied a lock on the fo'c'sle of the retro style cabin cruiser and snuck inside. Aimee checked the security of her cargo and slithered up the gangplank after her prey.
Nan was too involved in her mystery to notice another boarder. Aimee, Glock drawn, surprised her below deck.
"Who said you could be on this boat?"
"Uh, the Dean."
"The Dean doesn't own this yacht."
"That doesn't matter, the diamond please."
"What diamond? I am looking for something else."
"Bullshit, you are here for the Monrovian Diamond. I know you are lying."
"I haven't found it yet." Nan had opened the compartments below the seating. "All I found was a bunch of rope and other supplies. Please don't shoot me. There is plenty of rope here, you can tie me up. No one knows I am here. You'll have plenty of time to get away." Nan turned and put her hands behind her back, not casually but with her arms straight and held close together. She looked over her shoulder with anticipation and a little bit of dread. Aimee noticed that her victim had been tied up before.
Aimee started lashing Nan's hands, confining her arms above and below the breasts and at the waist.
"Did Omar hire you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Come on, with all this rope, I am going to spend all weekend bound and gagged on this ship."
"I didn't think of a gag, thank you for the suggestion." Aimee lied.
Nan groaned, "Me and my big mouth. Aren't you supposed to tell me your plan when you are tying me up?"
"What plan?" Aimee thought to herself, but then decided to improvise. "Omar did hire me. We're just going to keep you out of the way while we fence the jewel and make our escape.
"Are you Gay Moreau? Do you have to make this so tight?"
"So many questions, now open up." Aimee commanded.
Nan surprised Aimee, "Before you put that cloth in my mouth, may I break character?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't know the plot? It's a mixture of Mystery of the Lilac Inn and Clue of the Tapping Heels. My role is the plucky detective Nancy Drew. That is my full name. Those bitches thought they were so clever. They assigned me to assist a crotchety widow with her housekeeping. A diamond was stolen and I am determined to get it back. I have been sleuthing all week."
"I don't know what you are talking about, your sorority hired me to kidnap your pledge class. We don't get into the specifics, they just tell me where you will be and when."
Ms. Drew reviewed the series of cords that held her captive, "Oh yeah, back to that, this is great bondage, but could you pull my arms closer together and expose my tits?"
Aimee was a little confused, "Sure, have you tied and gagged before? Perils of amateur sleuthing?"
"No this is my first case. But with a name like Nancy Drew a lot of people propose it. As a little girl, I played detective a lot. I was very popular with the boys because I let them tie me and feel me up. Eventually, I got sick of the bad jokes and shortened my name to Nan. Thought I was free from it until one of the Sisters figured out this role play. Ooh, that's nice and tight. I want to impress my classmates. Can I ask what happens next?"
"Since you're a nice girl, sure. I put all the pledges on the boat and the Sisters take you out to the Island. You'll spend a lot time tied up. Lots of paddles etc. Tomorrow night, you are freed and they throw a big party. You'll meet lots of handsome men. The highlight is a big banquet with the Pledge Chairman as the centerpiece bound on hands and knees. One lucky girl from your class gets to fuck her in the ass with a strap on."
"Cool. I really like to get to try and get free. So you may hear me thrashing about."
"I think clothespins on your nipples will mitigate some thrashing." Aimee picked a couple out of the bucket and applied them.
"I like your thinking. They certainly picked the right person., Ah!" Nan winced slightly under the pressure, "Are you supposed to get Bess and Mardy?"
"They're the last two on my list."
"I just texted them. 'Lilac boat Help!' They should come running."
"Thanks, that will certainly help." Aimee took the phone from Nan's bound hands. "Where were you hiding this?" disappointed that she had been fooled by and amateur.
"All right let's get back into character. If this is following the Tapping Heels plot, you should have left my feet untied so I could signal the girls when they arrive and they can bust you."
"I read that book when I was younger also. The '39 edition. The lesson I learned was 'Always use more rope.'"
"Well you certainly have. I couldn't get free from this if I had a week. Not that I won't try. I am the plucky detective after all. If you could gloat, that would be cool. Hey, instead of that rag, could you use a sponge? It is cleaner but also bigger.."
Nan went back into her role, "You don't have to do this. Give up now and maybe the authorities will be lenient. I can put a good word with..MMMPPH"
Aimee forced the sponge in with some effort. Some electrical tape wrapped tautly around the detective's head held it in. The outdated Sandra Dee was just a wig. No scissors would be required to remove the sponge. Admiring her handiwork, she thought back to the illustration she remembered from her youth, held her arms akimbo and hammed it up, "You've been a thorn in my side all week. But no more. BWAHAHA!"
Nancy squirmed and shot her a look of pure venom. They both were having fun. Aimee regretted that she did not have more time to play with this hottie, her exposed tits begging for attention. Nancy would definitely derive greater satisfaction from Aimee's sadistic machination than some drunken vengeful Sorority Girls. Aimee pictured bound girl going down on her Cuckoo's Nest.
Then it was a matter of waiting the thirty minutes for the other two girls to show up. Aimee went up to the top deck. She could hear Nan's violent struggles against the uncaring ropes as she thrashed about.
The two targets arrived. Bess a busty black girl with a wasp figure and the winsome brunette with dark bedroom eyes, Mardy. Both wore form fitting skirts and blouses. It was too good to be true. The co-eds confronted Aimee, who played suspicious. Unfortunately, her deception was good enough to get them off the boat. But Nan, right on cue, tapped on a pipe with her pointed toes. The girls insisted in seeing the locked cabin. There they were surprised to see Nan all roped up. Aimee's Glock convinced the two to accept similar treatment.
That chore finished, Aimee went back to van. She backed it up to the gangplank and stowed the other abductees in the cabin with Nan, who true to her word, put in a yeoman's effort at getting free. Afraid that she may hurt the other hostages, Aimee put her in a real secure hogtie. The she drove back to return the van and collect her two thousand. She would have preferred to stay and play. Six hawt girls, helpless to her touch. But she had Raika to babysit. Business before pleasure...
Approaching the house mother's residence, Aimee was in a particularly good mood. She planned to visit Nan and Joi again. They seemed like good play partners. Eight thousand beautiful girls located five miles away. God she loved the Women's Technical College. So many girls, so little time. Distracted by her daydreams, Aimee was surprised to find the house mother bound and gagged in the office. The last thought that went through Aimee's head was Aren't I supposed to do that? as she passed into darkness.
Chapter 13 (added: 2013/09/27)
Date: September 13, 2006
Location: BetaGamma Sorority
The housemother was covered in head to toe in rope. Hell week always proved a chore,
and this time even more so. Aimee usually trussed her up well but comfortably, but these new girls really did a number on her. She tried to take her mind of it by concentrating on the TV. A program was discussing a matter not totally unrelated to her current predicament.
DANA MONTGOMERY, HOST: All right we're back. Now for another story we go to Boom City that remote Northwest Indian nation, which suddenly appeared into existence after the end of the Cold War. The former secret naval base, which has evolved into a mecca of speculation both a traditional gaming and financial engineering. Kiawala Indian Reservation is colloquially known as "Boom City, " This tiny nation founded by treaty in 1863, has a reported population of half a million It's GDP per capita has grown from $12,000 in 1985 to $96,000 today.
But we are here today to discuss a more sordid story: the Travails of Ms. Raika Elan,
"Mnnmmphfff... Mnnnmphff!"(Image of a bound and gagged woman in office chair)
a kidnapped attorney whose story has riveted the media since she was snatched two weeks ago. Ms. Elan has been spotted more places than Elvis. Today we have two guests to discuss the case. First to discuss the case, Inspector Jasmine Means, since the police are silent on this case, details are sketchy and speculation about the comely captive abounds.Inspector Means: Where is Ms. Elan?
INSPECTOR MEANS : Thank you for having me on Mr. Montgomery. Elan is in a unknown location Boom City, probably in the Favela.
MONTGOMERY: and what is the Favela?
MEANS: It's a slum located at the base of the dormant volcano. The neighborhood is built into the mountain side. It has been a lawless area since the 1850's when it's cave system served as hideouts for outlaws.
MONTGOMERY: How many people live there? What it's like?
MEANS: About 50,000 undocumented residents. It is a haven for criminals. Since the riots of 1995 and the subsequent unwritten truce, the authorities have removed themselves from the Favela. Criminal gangs control the area and provide a sense of order. For the first time since then, a police presence in is the Favela conducting a search. But they are not looking too hard for fear of upsetting the criminal gangs.
MONTGOMERY: So the criminal gangs are protecting the kidnapper, the reputed Catgirl?
MEANS: I wouldn't call her "the" Catgirl, she's a Catgirl.
MONTGOMERY: So you know the identity of the kidnapper?
MEANS: I am pretty sure it is Aimee DeLigotage. That is her preferred alias, her true identity is unknown and it could not be determined through her imprisonment.
MONTGOMERY: You mean to say that she was in prison but you don't what she looks like?
MEANS: We have her mug shot when I captured her as a Lieutenant of the Reservation Rangers, but we never did determine her origin or birth name. We were just happy to catch her.
MONTGOMERY: What did you arrest her for?
MEANS: Prowling. We never did catch her in the act. But she was a notorious burglar, extremely difficult to catch through a five year spree of increasingly brazen acts.
MONTGOMERY: How did you catch her?
MEANS: By our fifth decoy trap. We'd have an officer, always an attractive female, pose as someone with something valuable to steal, put her in a vulnerable situation, and someone would come along, tie her up and take that thing.
MONTGOMERY: Why did it take five tries?
MEANS: The first two times we apprehended a "Catgirl" in the process of tying up the officer, but they weren't Ms. Ligotage.
MONTGOMERY: How could you tell?
MEANS: We could tell by the bondage.
MONTGOMERY: The bondage?
MEANS: How the ropes were knotted, the gags used and other techniques that I am not at liberty to discuss...
MONTGOMERY: I am sorry I interrupted you, how did you catch Ms. Ligotage? Am I pronouncing her name right?
MEANS: Yes you are Dana. Our third stakeout failed to get a nibble, but the forth trap... Ms. Ligotage successfully penetrated our cordon, bound and gagged our officer and escaped without a trace. On the fifth stakeout, an officer spotted her on the premises, that's when I decided to get her on the lesser offense of prowling.
MONTGOMERY: You couldn't prove anything else?
MEANS: We tried, but the judge threw out the DNA evidence because of contamination. Ms. Ligotage is good at covering her tracks. My testimony on the bondage did not convince the jury.
MONTOGOMERY: How did Ms. Ligotage get out of jail?
MEANS: The Council ordered her release after serving three months.
MONTGOMERY: What was the reason?
MEANS: An official response was never given, but I have reason to believe it was in return for a favor.
MONTGOMERY: Like what?
MEANS: I can only speculate.
MONTGOMERY: Thank you Ms. Means. When we return a response from the Council President
SIGN OFF FOR COMMERCIAL
MONTGOMERY: And we're back. I am here with Nancy Littlefeather, President of the Kiawala Domestic Council. President Littlefeather welcome.
LITTLEFEATHER: Thank you Dana. I just want to say that the Council denies every allegation of former Inspector Means. Ms. Means resigned from the Rangers for corruption years ago. She now works for an insurance company. I don't know why they would hire her. Her accusations are baseless. The Council would never engage the services of a criminal.
MONTGOMERY: Then what is your explanation of Ms. Elan's kidnapping.
LITTLEFEATHER: Admittedly, we do have a tradition of Catgirls. The first Catgirl appeared in 1860. A Robin Hood type character, she stole from the established businesses and gave to the denizens of the Favela . Numerous imitators have appeared over the years.
MONTGOMERY: Established businesses that in includes casinos and brothels?
LITTLEFEATHER: Yes, some of our founding mothers were prostitutes, forcibly sold to the Indian tribes, but they eventually came to lead the tribe. All of the so called vices are legal in Boom City. It is part of our booming tourist trade, all highly regulated. All sex workers are licensed and tested weekly for sexual diseases. Our casinos are the finest in the Western Hemisphere. So I welcome all those who are interested to come and visit.
MONTGOMERY: Easy on the civic boosterism. Back to the Catgirl or Girls, if you will. What is being done about them?
LITTLEFEATHER: Normally these girls work in the underworld. So long as innocents are not harmed, the Reservation Rangers do not interfere, but in this case we have started a dragnet.
MONTGOMERY: Even in the Favela?
LITTLEFEATHER: I can 't comment on investigatory techniques. I can assure you we will bring this case to a proper resolution.
MONTGOMERY: Thank you for your time Council President Littlefeather.
LITTLEFEATHER: You bet.
Aimee awoke, her temples throbbed. She wanted to massage them, but her hands would not respond. Her arms were pulled behind her, immobile despite her earnest efforts. She could feel her elbows touching and her knees cruelly bent. She tried to call out for help, but very little noise came. She tried to thrash about but could not move very much. After about five minutes of straining, she gave up, recognizing she was ensnared in what seemed like a mile of rope.
Feeling groggy, she tried to make sense of her surroundings. It seems like an office, but one in a social club not a business. A neat little green iMac sat on a 19th century secretary, tastefully in line with the antique décor. One chair looked out of place. It was an authentic Eames chair, obviously borrowed from another room and chosen for its sturdiness.
But Aimee did not know all of this. She didn't know much at the moment, her thoughts a buzzing miasma, trying to eliminate the hallucinatory. She could not figure out who was tied to the esteemed piece of furniture .
Aimee concentrated to collect her thoughts. The first thing she focused on were the shoes, eye level about two meters to her left. They were matte black pumps lashed to the front legs. Hosed legs splayed open with only the sheerest purple panties to obscure her womanhood.
Taut cords, Aimee could attest to their strength, held her knees wide apart. Many turns of cord mashed her pelvis into the seat. A rope bra enhanced her endowment which intensely protruded due to the stricture on her arms, just like Aimee's. The captive's face was a obscured by black tape, which on closer inspection, revealed a criss cross pattern and copious turns around the jaw holding on a pantyhose hood.
The seated woman wore a gray skirt, hiked above her hips and a dark green blouse, front opened to expose her cleavage. Her hips were thrust forward and her arms were draped over the chair back. Her nipple extended over her pulled down leopard skin bra. Each was clamped and weighed down with a connector chain. Each a perfect center to her ample bosom. The bound bodice looked familiar but Aimee could not make out the face through the hose.
Aimee heard a click, then a buzzing. Her companion's head perked up and she started to sway as best as she could against the ropes that held firmly to the chair. Her fervent convulsions eliminated by the strict cord.
Aimee returned to her own futile efforts. She recognized her condition, hogtied with her arms pinned to her chest, gagged with a large rag (or panties) held in with tape generously wrapped around her jaw. That obstruction was not coming out without help. Feeling powerless, she grabbed her heels.
Her Heel! Aimee unscrewed her right heel. Concealed inside was small file. She immediately went to work on the hogtie cord. Specially designed to cut through chain. This tool made quick work of the cord. After some effort, Aimee's wrists and ankles were unbound. Undoing the harsh elbow bondage proved trickier but after fifteen minutes of effort, Aimee had freed herself of the rope.
Aimee peeled the tape from her hair and removed the packing her mouth. Out came on pair of panties, much larger than what she usually wore. Then another pair. Aimee worked her jaw to relieve the strain.
She turned to her companion, who was oblivious to Aimee's victory over her bonds. Aimee figured out why she was otherwise occupied. An electric cord ran up the chair into the crotch area under the panties into the exposed vulva. The buzzing ceased and the captive slumped over in her rigid attachment to her seat.
Aimee thought about leaving, but she had so many questions. She went to work on the nylon hood. Hose and tape removed, the captive was doubly gagged with a tight cleave and packing, which upon removal turned out to be pair of tube socks. No wonder she emitted no sound.
Aimee recognized the face, eyes wide over the packing which forced the cheeks to the point of obscuring the brown eyes. Aimee discovered an older woman probably in her fifties, Italian in descent. While her face revealed her age, particularly through the crow's feet highlighted by the gag induced contortion, women half her age would be happy with her toned body. Her raven black hair conformed to her head due to constriction of the cleave. Aimee undid the knot.
"That was fantastic." the doyenne exclaimed in a husky voice. "I didn't know you took apprentices."
"Back up, what are you talking about."
"Our annual pledge tie up game. Don't you remember?"
"Not really, explain how we got like this," a tinge of anger from Aimee.
"Three girls, all about the same height and dressed those spandex suits that cover your whole body."
"You meanZentai suits?"
"Yeah, whatever, they entered the office at around five."
The nearby clock showed eight twenty seven.
"They pointed a gun at me. Playing along with the game, I pleaded for my life and begged them to tie me up. I thought they were helping you."
"I don't know anyone who travels around in Zentai suits, but it starting to come back to me. I was supposed to kidnap the pledge class and then come back here to collect."
"That's right, but every year you leave me tied up. Your payment is in the top desk drawer.
"Oh yeah, I remember. But who were those girls?"
Aimee's Blackberry buzzed. She saw an encrypted email from Sabrina. "Come to my place urgent."
Chapter 12 (added: 2013/08/09)
Date: September 18, 2006
Time: 8:40 am
Location : Means' Office
The phone rang,
"Inspector's Office, Reyes speaking... She's tied up, can't speak right now, I'll relay the message..."
From the mouth of a Hispanic babe... Reyes spoke the literal truth. She had bound and Insurance Inspector Jo Anne Means with a hundred yards of cord. The Inspector had been struggling to free herself for two hours. Tied into a ball with her knees into her chest, the buff dishwater blonde could not move anything but her fingers. She had rolled onto her side about ninety minutes ago, but now she was motionless. She attempted to communicate with her subordinate but nothing audible emanated from her. Reyes had done a fine job.
Reyes continued her conversation, "Ok give me the website again." Realizing its importance, the lovely Latina removed two pairs of stuffed panties stifling the Inspector's cries.
"Raika Élan is on a web broadcast on a site called kidnap.org." The junior detective stated while she sliced Means' bonds with her knife, "I have it up on the main monitor."
Inspector Means stood about six foot one and weighed a hundred and eighty pounds of solid muscle. Her daily exercise regimen consisted of strength training and martial arts. Upon being freed, she fell victim to her frustration of the last two hours.
Means pinned the much smaller Reyes against the desk. "Your turn!" She commanded.
"But I already had my turn." Reyes had escaped from a similar tie within twenty minutes, which incensed Means.
"Hands behind your back!" Means barked.
Reyes meekly complied, her boss could easily overpower her, and any struggle may result in injury. "Ouch that hurts." She exclaimed as her elbows knocked behind her.
"Shut up!" Means demanded as she exacted her revenge. Soon, Reyes was hogtied and gagged. One pair of the used panties stuffed in her mouth and held in with a rope from her ankles. A string from her toes attached to her hair. Both cords cruelly arched her neck back.
Means left her subordinate trussed up on the desk and turned her attention to the monitor. She was familiar with kidnap.org a site founded by a former news reporter, Sabrina Hill. On the screen was the aforementioned reporter, severely tied up, and seductively writhing and grunting for her internet viewers. While in her late forties, Ms. Hill boasted the toned and perky figure of a girl half her age. She showed off her alluring body with a tight satin blouse and mid thigh skirt. She wore highlighted brunette her hair short.
Suddenly, the scene ended and upon the fade in, the viewer finds Ms. Hill, still helpless, perched upon a chair in an interview studio. A leather clad bodice stands behind the trussed reporter. A gloved hand reaches out and cuts away the red vet wrap which served as the outer layer of her gag. Next, the same hand removed numerous strips of tape which was crisscrossed over her mouth revealing a wad of silk cloth which was also removed. Surprisingly, a red ball emerged from behind that cloth. Another cloth, completely drenched, followed the ball out her mouth. All of the obstructions removed, the "Hostage Hostess" began her introduction:
Welcome to another episode of kidnap.org. We have a special one tonight, produced by my favorite, Mademoiselle Ligotage. There are three involuntaries in addition to myself. For those of you who are new to our program. I am Your Hostage Hostess, Sabrina Hill. Some of you may recognize me from my mainstream media days, but as you can see, I am caught up in more specialized fare these days.
Although, this may seem harsh, I thoroughly enjoy it. About seven hours ago, I was surprised and kidnapped. I have been bound and gagged up until this moment. But this event has been contractually arranged. It is funded by you. Most of you are watching in low bandwidth. For $49.95, you can join at the gold level and download this entire episode in high definition, a minimum of ten hours material is available for your permanent enjoyment.
What you are seeing now is tape delayed about four hours. Together we will watch the day's events, while I narrate. Then we will follow up with a special interview. Since this is being played in the future, I assume that Inspector Means has been alerted and is monitoring. Hi Jo Anne! We are honored that you are following our broadcast.
More on that later... I want to account for the past two day's events. On Sunday, I received a PGP encrypted email, alerting me to a possible episode. A professional courtesy, so I can arrange my affairs prior to being abducted. Naturally, I became excited.
For those you who are new, here are the ground rules. I split all of the proceeds, minus expenses, with my kidnapper. If I escape, I get the entire pot. Other voluntary captives also get a share. If anyone of us escapes, we share the entire pot, and the kidnapper goes home penniless. That has happened about one out of five times, incidentally. You have to tie me up tight!
I consent to all acts, including those of a sexual nature, which do not result in serious injury. I can only be secured with rope, because I look damn good in rope and it gives me a chance to escape. With my present captor, I have yet to loosen a single knot or gag. Despite the futility, I love to try my best.
Let's go to the video. Here I am beginning the day dressing. Don't I have a rocking body? --especially for an old broad.
Since I was not ordered to wear any special attire, I laid out my fan favorite captive uniform: a knee length grey wool skirt, six inch matching pumps, dark hose and a form fitting red satin blouse which feels so good against my skin even when diabolically tied like this. I declined to wear panties or a bra - my puppies don't need any support. I added some padded opera gloves underneath my blouse. I know its cheating but they help me stay comfortably tied up for hours.
Now I am performing my acceptance of the contract. If I receive an offer of kidnapping, I am to signify my assent by going to the balcony turning around and crossing my wrists, as seen on the video. All of these shots were taken surreptitiously by Ms. Ligotage.
Here is some brief footage of me at the computer. I like being seized here because I usually leave an unfinished message on the desktop. Really cute. What's the emoticon for ' I'm tied up?'
Since no one broke into the apartment, I went for a walk. As you can see from these surveillance tapes, first through my neighborhood, then along Ashton Boulevard where a van can easily pull up and snatch me away. Unfortunately, I was not kidnapped that afternoon. So I went home to bed, dreaming of waking bound and gagged. But I woke up disappointingly free.
The next day, I tried even more precarious environments, the wharf where an attacker can emerge from a myriad of doorways. Next, I went shopping at Willow Mall, which is depressingly half vacated, but that emptiness offers many opportunities for ambush. These videos show me attracting lots of leers but no rope.
Dejected and tired from walking for two days in impossibly high heels, I began to believe this to be a false alarm. Ms. Ligotage will call for two or three feints for every attack just to keep me on my toes. I retreated to Java Girl, the coffee shop for a nightcap firmly believing that adventure would not come my way.
For those of you have not been there, Java Girl serves excellent brew. What you are watching now are the surveillance tapes from the actual store. They are kind of grainy so I will explain the action in detail. But remember, only our gold level members can view it in high definition with computer enhanced clarity.
Here I am entering the store just as Java Girl is closing. Being a regular customer, the proprietor, who is a real Indonesian, lets me stay and swill coffee while she closes up. Java Girl is always fun to hang with. We usually go bar hopping after she closes. I've been trying to get her between my sheets for some time now.
Here you can see me, seated with my back to the barista sending a disappointed email to Ms. Ligotage. Now pay close attention, this view is from another camera in front of me. I am unaware that I am being filmed. Still fixated on my Smartphone, I hold up my cup for a refill. Hearing Java Girl's familiar flip flops on the tile floor, I don't even bother to look up. I can sense a presence near me, but I don't feel any liquid in my cup.
You guys really need to see this in Hi Def! Just $49.95, anyone who signs on during this broadcast gets this adventure and a bonus of two others of your choice.
I turned my head to see what was the matter, and to my surprise I am not looking at Java Girl, but a completely naked Japanese attorney that I recognize from the news reports, Ms. Raika Élan. Her eyes stare wildly at me over her gag. Her arms are not visible because they are expertly pinned behind her back. Her legs are tied at the knees, forcing her to shuffle over to me. Her full breasts are at my eye level. I was simultaneously titillated and surprised. My cup shatters on the floor.
I feel a familiar set of hands shove silk into the back of my throat. Before I have a chance to recover, my wrists are deftly tied behind me. Then a red ball enters my gaping mouth, followed by more silk, tape and vet wrap. I am well accustomed to this gag. I feel somewhat comfortable realizing that I have fallen prey to Madamoiselle Ligotage. Finally, I am tied at the elbows and knees, completely at her mercy.
Here our captor is looping a leash around my neck and connecting to Ms. Élan's leash and now she leads us out the door. We awkwardly follow. If you look carefully, you can see a prone Java Girl secured behind the bar. More on that later...
What you are seeing now is footage from what I like to call the kidnap mobile. It is a mini- van with numerous anchor points in the back. I've taken many trips in it. Ms. Élan and I are secured side by side in a kneeling strappado. Our ankles are tied and raised up, forcing all of our weight on our knees. It really hurt, but in a good way. Then we were driven around in circles for an hour or so we could not retain our bearings.
You have to join at the Gold Level!
Back to Java Girl, a beautiful little sprite with skin as rich as her darkest roast. Here is footage of her capture. The Mademoiselle has her quickly helpless in seconds without me noticing! My god, she gags her with a coffee soaked rag! My, she is in some nasty bondage, hand and elbows behind her. More rope constricts her lithe torso. One leg is bent and tied to itself froggy style. The other is outstretched and connected by the ankle to a heavy chair.
Let's watch her struggle for a minute. She slowly works her way back into the kitchen, probably in an attempt to reach a knife... Oops! the chair got stuck in the door. Look at the frustration on her face... There, she's navigated that obstacle and is in the kitchen. But by the way's she tied, she can't reach the knife drawer. She can get up on one knee that is not high enough. Poor girl.
Much more of this footage available at the Gold Level!
Now back to the studio and our special guest. As many you already have guessed, it is the comely attorney, Ms. Raika Élan Esq. au naturale and tied up exactly like moi. I love having my elbows pulled together, look at the effect on my tits.
Ms. Élan, do you enjoy this tie as much as I do?
Sorry Ms. Élan, I would remove your gag, but I can't move my arms even an inch. So we'll have to make do. Beside I think our viewers are more interested in you as a sex object. I certainly am.
You should be flattered, Ms. Élan, this episode is well on the way to setting total views and revenue records. I can see why, you're damn hot, and very flexible and seem pretty tough. Have you ever considered this as a career? But I am sure blood sucking lawyers make a lot more.
We seem to have hit a nerve. I love how your tits jiggle when you try to free your arms and punch me. But I feel save and secure. There's no way you're getting out of Aimee's ropes. You've been bound and gagged for two weeks now? Must be incredibly frustrating for a powerful woman, to be completely helpless. You are a famous patent attorney, used to being in control, getting what you want, in a word, winning. But you have been on the losing end for a long time, it must be humiliating to appear naked, bound and gagged. We all have a vulnerable side, but being a professional woman, displaying it could be career suicide. Well, now you are forced to show your vulnerability. It's oddly liberating right?
I hit an emotional point. Suck on it Oprah! I made her cry. Look at the tears stream down her cheeks. Good News! I am here to tell you that your ordeal is almost over. The insurance company has turned over a paltry ransom, but this episode has realized a tidy sum already. With residuals, this will easily set the record for revenues by a large margin. Ms. Ligotage has decided to release you. Thanks for tuning in. Remember folks, there is more footage on the web and I haven't been released yet. I am looking forward to the abuse. Before we sign off, let's check in on Java Girl... Poor thing has not made any progress. Signing off for kidnap.org, I'm your Hostage Hostess, Sabrina Hill, Mwah!
"And Cut! Sabrina we're off the air."
Sabrina turned to Raika, "That was awesome, you're a fine actress."
Raika shot her captive companion a quizzical expression.
"Oh come off it. You like being tied up more than I do. I can tell despite all of your gagged assertions to the contrary. Aimee could you please remove her gag so we can really talk?"
Aimee nodded to her assistant Cordie, who removed the vet wrap, tape, silk and ball gag.
"You're as perceptive as you are pretty. I knew I couldn't fool another rope slut."
"Don't worry our audience can't tell; they were too busy drooling over your naked body. I know I was. In fact I want to run my hands all over your body."
"Vice Versa for me too, do you mind if I schooch over to the couch." the trussed Nipponese plopped next to her interlocutor, their faces inches apart. "What the hell." She plunged her tongue down Sabrina's throat.
Sabrina reciprocated and leaned back on the couch. Raika fell on top and the two went after it rather vigorously, especially for their bound state.
Sabrina turned to Cordie, "A little help here. Use your imagination."
Cordie turned to her boss and received wordless assent. She started by placing a harness gag with a large ball in Sabrina's mouth. Next, a leather blindfold.
Raika received an inflatable gag. Cordie pumped the bladder to its fullest; her captive's eyes bulged under the pressure. On the outside of the gag, a dildo extended out.
Raika was tied in a kneeling position and Sabrina's legs were tied wide open, at the ankles and knees, to the arms of the couch. With Sabrina's skirt hiked up, her bare womanhood was on full display, and she couldn't move a muscle. Cordie proved a quick study with rope.
Reading Sabrina's mind, Cordie blurted out, "Do you like my technique? I've been practicing all week on Raika."
. Cordie put tab A in slot B and Raika went to it, Sabrina in rapture. Raika really knew how to work the g-spot. After about half an hour and three orgasms, the two switched positions. Cordie got it all on tape and posted it to the website.
Sabrina ended up back at Java Girl, tied in the buff over the coffee bar, her legs splayed and her hands together extended forward. The frustrated proprietor had been freed by her morning customers. Java Girl exacted her revenge by letting any customer who purchased a $500 coffee card have their way with Sabrina for thirty minutes. Deprived of sight, hearing and speech and her legs spread, Sabrina proved an extremely enticing offer. Five customers participated that morning. Good times were had by all, and everyone turned out a little richer, except maybe the insurance carrier.
Chapter 13 (added: 2013/08/09)
Report No.: 2007 -654-0279
Date: Sept 18, 2006
Location: Lenexa Insurance, Kiawala Reservation Investigation Center
Time: 11:36 am to 12:13 pm
Deponent: Raika Elan
Interrogator: Claims Agent Means,
Author: Assistant Claims Agent Reyes
Background: Ms. Elan, outside Intellectual Property Counsel for our Insured, Anathema, Ltd., was kidnapped seventeen days ago. The apparent reason for the abduction was to obtain Ms. Elan's assistance in breaking into our insured's server. Ms. Leela Rashir, a Systems Analyst consultant for our insured, was also kidnapped for the same purpose.
Ms. Rashir, abducted three days prior to Ms. Elan. (See Report 2007-654-0195) Ms. Rashir reported that she and Ms. Elan cooperated to penetrate numerous firewalls so that her kidnapper (reputed to be Ms. Aimee DeLigotage) could infect the insured's server with a virus which would siphon on off funds from the insured's high frequency stock trades.
Ms. Rashir reported being constantly bound and gagged throughout her abduction. We assume Ms. Elan has suffered the same treatment. Numerous previous reports (See file) recount witnesses seeing her in a bound and gagged state.
Bondage described as usually in Willie or modified Shibari style, in accordance with the modus operandi of Ms. DeLigotage, the prime suspect.
Ms. Elan was held for ransom of $25,000, delivered on 9/16/2007, approved by Claims Adjuster Hyman Russell.
Agent Means and Reyes recently reported a video podcast (see Report 2007-654-0278) where Ms. Elan was "interviewed" as part of a www.kidnap.org (a website dedicated to documented kidnapping of women) presentation. The podcast ended at 10:15 am and Ms. Elan arrived in a crate addressed to: Inspector Means, Lenexa Insurance. The package was picked up at a Package Express drop off point at 7:14am 9/18/2007 and arrived at 10:28 am 9/18/2007.
Deponent arrived in sedated semi-conscious state, probably induced by a mild barbiturate. She also arrived thoroughly trussed in a ball tie within the 2' x 4' crate. Hands tied behind, feet together, knees pulled to chin, with approximately 200 feet of rope. Deponent wearing only a white bathing cap. Deponent's lower jaw wrapped with several white strips of medical tape encircled around her head, impossible to take off. Perhaps a tribute to Sweet Gwendoline? (again a DeLigotage MO). Mouth filled with large rubber ball, just small enough to prevent restriction of the trachea. Nipples pierced.
Deponent sitting on floor, aroused with smelling salts. She awoke with evident anger. Ungagged and bathing cap removed, Deponent is stark naked.
TRANSCRIPT OF INTERVIEW
Means: Ms. Elan, can you hear me?
Elan: Of course I can fucking hear you. Untie me. Where the fuck am I? How did I get here? INAUDIBLE
Means: You arrived at our office via packaging crate about ninety minutes ago.
Elan: Let me out of this!
Means: Sorry Ms. Elan, orders from the client. We are going to sell this footage to the networks. Sound muted of course. Our client needs to recoup their ransom and judging by kidnap.org's takings, we should get that back again.
Elan: You can't do this.
Means: I'm afraid we can. Please read clause 9.5(d) of your
Elan (reading): "Consultant agrees that any depictions, including but not limited to written or oral recounts, or images and video, or any digital reproductions thereof, of Consultant of her restrained (see Definitions Section 1) remains the property of Anathema and any Anathema retains all rights to said depictions for its sole use and discretion."
Hell! Still please untie me. I've been tied up for two straight weeks.
Means: Just another hour or so until we finish this interview. What's another hour? Need I remind you of the liquidated damages clause in your Agreement?
Elan: No you don't have to. I really can't believe that bound and gagged clause bit me in the ass.
Means: It is specially inserted for Boom City. Pretty girls like yourself tend to get tied up sooner or later in this town. You especially. Let's see you've been burglarized four times and kidnapped once all within the last three months. We're very popular aren't we?"
Elan: Six times. I have burglarized twice at the office and two times at home, and one time at the salon. Once a Tribal Scout troop lashed me to a tree in the park. That tie up was technically a kidnapping because they moved me fifteen meters.... But I guess that doesn't count. I am not pressing charges against a pack of twelve year old girls.
Means: I'm only concerned about your dealings with Aimee DeLigotage.
Elan: Who is Ligo.. whatever?
Means: Your suspected kidnapper.
Elan: How do you know it is her? She always wore a mask and wig and spoke with a ridiculous Southern accent which was obviously contrived.
Means: By your bindings, they are definitely in her style. A DNA test should confirm it.
Elan: Right. Dealings? Are you insinuating that she and I are in cahoots? That is bullshit. Would anyone subject themselves to this treatment?
Means: Ms. Rashir stated that you were very cooperative and Ms. Rashir was let go while you remained.
Elan: For a tidy ransom.
Means: Actually $25,000.
Elan: That's it. That is all I am worth to them?
Means: Maybe. Or maybe you and DeLigotage cooked up this scheme to defraud my client. I've seen it a million times. "I'll play damsel in distress to throw off the authorities."
Elan: Are you accusing me? Are you charging me with crime? If so, I want a lawyer present. I know my rights under the Boom City Charter.
Means: You don't have any rights here. This is a private investigation. I don't work for the Rez anymore... Why do you need a lawyer, are you guilty?
Elan: No one should talk in an interrogation without representation. It is only prudent. Regardless, this interview is clearly under duress. I'm helpless. (Begins tearing up) Please... Please untie me, I've lost feeling in my arms and legs.
Means: You're extremities aren't getting cold. We had a doctor check you out when you were unconscious. She said you have very good circulation and flexibility. A body built for this treatment. Know what I think?
Means: That you like being tied up. Assistant Inspector Reyes did a little Googling. (Shows Exhibits 2007-654-0279 A-H to Deponent) Taped to the flagpole in high school. Bound and gagged through two acts of a college play. It got rave reviews didn't it? A kidnapping in Mexico. Accusing your law professor of abduction. Do we need to interview your old friends and acquaintances? Will they be able to explain why you are so bondage prone?
Elan: Is it a crime to be tied up too many times? Even if I did enjoy it -- which in reality I do have a serious tolerance for it -- it has happened so many times, is that a crime?
Means : It is if you cooked this up to bilk my client. I just want to get my client's money back. Almost a million. Just confess and we won't turn you over to police.
Elan: Are you accusing me of kinky? You're the one who can only interrogate me if I am tied up.
Means: Let's go off the record.
Taping resumes five minutes later. Inspector Means applied some physical correction to the recalcitrant witness.
Elan: Enough. If I ever get untied, I will take you out.
Means: I am the only one who makes threats here.
Elan : I can prove to you I did not conspire with my kidnapper. I can get your money back.
Elan: When I was tied up at the townhouse, just before she released Leela.
Means: Ms. Rashir?
Elan: Yes. I downloaded another virus to counteract the first. If you untie me, I can show you. Better yet. Just call my assistant Holly and tell her to run Protocol 7a.
Means: Reyes call Elan and Associates, and put her gag back in while we wait...
Reyes: Roger that.
Elan: Inspector Me... INAUDIBLE.
Counter virus worked as Elan intended. $935,678.24 recovered. Deponent released on her own recognizance at 2:12pm. Deponent sent on three day trip to Almazaheer's Spa and Retreat reimbursed by client.