BowPi’s Halloween: Part Four

By Victor Von Doum

alum1989@yahoo.com

 

FINDING JIMBO

Erica, having put her bra back on, then her white shirt and saddle brown suede vest back together as soon as she’d untied herself just before Heather’s arrival, hurries up the basement stairs, purposely leaving on the basement light for Stef’s benefit. (Should Stef awaken before Erica returns, Stef would at least be able to see where she was sitting and who was sitting securely pole-tied and tightly gagged in the basement with her.) The party, by this time, has surged. The Library has reached full capacity, making it very difficult to navigate through the crowd. Erica, while tall at 5’7”, finds it difficult to see over the crowd of fake heads, hats, and masks; looking at the upstairs, she realizes she’ll get a better view of the crowd from there, so she starts making her way through the crowd to one of the stairways. Finally reaching the back upper floor, Erica looks around and spots the aluminum-foil-costumed Jim at the front of the bar, downstairs. “Excuse me, excuse me,” the equestrienne-garbed blonde endlessly repeats, often encountering resistance from revelers either too loaded or too deafened to pay her heed. She presses on, her shapely figure poured into tight jodhpurs and tall boots, long blonde hair, and movie-star-beauty face all helping to turn heads from those not too oblivious to notice.

Erica finally makes her way downstairs, navigates through the heavy crowd, and finally reaches Jim. She grabs him by the arm and tells him about how Penelope jumped them; chloro’d them; tied them up and gagged them, then told her how Penelope was going to spoil Amy’s evening in his bedroom. Erica tells Jim to find Brett and send him to help Amy, and then come help Stef who was doing OK in the basement, now untied and starting to awaken. Erica makes it clear that she herself is heading to help Amy out first, not knowing when Jim’s going to be able to find Brett through this crowd, especially now that no one knows Brett’s exact location in the bar or whether he’s still even here.

DOWN YOUR ALLEY

Penelope, leaving Amy securely lashed to Jim’s bed, smirks at unexpectedly how well her evening is going. Her boot heels make light clomping noises as she scurries down the fraternity house’s wooden back stairs and out its back door, into the alley that runs the two blocks to the bar. She recaps her accomplishments: not only had she tied up and gagged her former best friends Stef & Erica, she’d also exacted revenge on Amy, getting both Amy’s and her own rocks off several times, and in the process, spoiled Amy’s evening with Brett. She took pictures of Amy bound, gagged, breasts and hoo-hah exposed, and gotten her own blackmail pictures back. “Now,” Penelope thinks, “I get to do the same to Stef & Erica, and I’ll have completed my revenge.  Hot damn!”

Penelope enters the bar through the still slightly propped-open hallway exit door, not bothering to care whether anyone is standing in the hall, as finding ways to enter places through back-alleys and side-doors to avoid cover charges practically qualifies as a varsity sport for poor college students. She opens the storage room door, turns on the light, and makes her way to the downstairs stairway. As she heads down there, all appears in order: pitch dark room except for an exit sign, and no signs of movement from her captive equestriennes. She doesn’t turn on the light for fear of awakening them; she thinks of how she’s going to molest them: which one first? Who gets to watch? Boobs for openers, or straight to vuh-gee-gees? “Ah,” she thinks as she arrives at her idea, “I’ll have them do each other, while I get to watch. Then they’ll do ME. And I’ll take pictures of it all…” Penelope continues walking down the staircase.

 

BED ROOM

Amy struggles at all her bindings, focusing on finding the knot to her wrist-ropes, recognizing the obvious: she can’t untie herself without first freeing her hands. Her attempts to push herself up off the bed quite literally go nowhere; the tight ropes running across the tops of her boobs pin her hard to the bed. She repeatedly pulls up at her cross-tied wrists lashed together under the small of her back. Feeling some give, she arches her lower back to create some space between her wrists and the ropes tied running over her wrists around her lower abdomen. She then moves her hands together, as much on top of the other as she can manage. She pulls them up her back, snags her wrist-ropes on the around-the-belly ropes, and pulls as hard as she can. The ropes run tight around her and it hurts when she pulls, but she keeps going. Suddenly, she feels her hands slipping through the cotton wrist ropes; her right hand pops out: free!

With so much slack now around her left wrist, Amy pulls it free too. She pushes the four ropes lashing her to the bed away from her, and slides her head underneath it to free herself. Sitting herself upright, Amy pulls off her American flag bandanna blindfold, drops it on the bed, and looks down at the now-loose ropes that had attached her arms to her torso, now sitting slack on her still-open jeans. She then brings both hands up to her cleave gag. Cleaved too tight to pull out and down, she reaches behind her head, finds the first knot, and unties it. Repeating the process with the second knot, she pulls the gag off, pushes the mouthpack out with her tongue and pulls it out with her right thumb and forefinger.

“Blecch!” Amy exclaims as she removes the soggy bandanna from her mouth and flops it on the bed, then mutters, “Fucking psycho bitch,” before starting to get herself dressed again. She re-attaches her bra and quickly buttons her shirt, leaving her vest loosely hanging for the moment, before turning her pulling up her panties and jeans. Re-buckling her saddle brown belt, she focuses her attention to the ropes tying her ankle-ropes to the footboard, which she unties, before moving on to the ankle ropes themselves. Loosening the knot and unwinding them from her two-tone Luccheses, Amy notices the hard leather shafts slowing moving back into place and leans over to the bedpost to her left to untie the knot of the rope running from there to her lower left thigh. Untangling it quickly, she moves over to the opposite bedpost, the last rope tied to her, when she sees the doorknob turn and the door start to creak open. “Holy shit,” Amy thinks as her heart races, “Has Penelope come back so soon? She’s gonna kick my ass if she sees me untied like this!”

 

HELLO, HELLO AGAIN

Stef groggily opens her eyes. The only ropes remaining on her body are holding her loosely to the chair for support; Erica didn’t want her falling out of it. Stef blinks her eyes hard several times, “What the hell happened again?” she thinks when she quickly remembers Penelope’s bisexual treatment on her and Erica. “Shit!” Stef exclaims.

“She’s going after Amy now! I’ve got to go save her!” Stef realizes. She takes a look over at Heather, gagged tightly and tied to the pole, guessing that Erica probably put her there. Heather yells at her, “Ummmn mmie mmee!” (“Untie me!”) but Stef gives her a look like “Really? You really think I’m going to?” Heather strains against her bonds and kicks her tied cowgirl boots off the vinyl tile floor a few times in protest, mmmphing a desperate few more times; Stef pays her no heed as she steadies herself from the effects of the chloroform and for the walk up the stairs on one bad knee. She takes a deep breath when she hears the upper storage door open. Quickly making the “shush” sound in Heather’s direction, Stef looks around, finds a damp mop, and douses the downstairs lights before hiding behind a few large stacked cardboard boxes. Bumping into them in the darkness, Stef realizes they’re not heavy.

Footsteps echo on the creaky wooden stairs. Stef remains motionless behind the boxes, mop handle in hand. As she sees a hand reach out to hit the light-switch at the bottom of the stairs, she smacks the hand with the mop-head. “Eeeee!” the scream comes out, obviously startled and frightened. Stef knows right away who it is; as she hears the footsteps move across the staircase and up a few steps in retreat. Stef pushes the light cardboard boxes in the direction of the hand. “Aaaaah!” shouts the next cry, as a loud thud comes from the stair-walker hitting the staircase. 

Stef moves toward the light switch and flicks it on. “Penelope, my dear, what a pleasant surprise,” Stef proclaims, as the fresh illumination showing Penelope sitting on the stairs, wincing, and holding her left knee with both hands, rubbing the leather pants on top of it, her gym bag on the stairs to her right.

“Fuck you,” Penelope retorts defiantly.

“Really, you bitch? That’s the best you’ve got?” Stef mentions, pushing a few of the light cardboard boxes away. She steps on the bottom stair, and cracks Penelope’s rubbing hands with the heavy mop handle as she leans toward her. “Arrrgh!” Penelope yells out. Stef uses this distraction and quickly swoops in to pull Penelope’s gun out of her holster and take her gym bag and throw it towards to the center of the room, where Heather looks on at the unfurling scene.

“There,” Stef triumphantly announces, moving herself out of Penelope’s reach “with each of us having a bum knee, we’re even.”

“’Even?’ You just stole my gun, you bitch, so it’s not exactly ‘even,’” Penelope replies, not letting on that her gun isn’t loaded, in the event she can get it back and turn the tables on Stef.

“Oh, I guess you’re right—for once. Plus, with your bag of sex-torture tricks out of reach, you’ve…got…nothing,” pausing between the last few words for emphasis. “See your gal pal there? Limp over towards her. Hands in the air.”

“Stef, I can barely walk,” Penelope whines.

“Oh, the same way you called me ‘Gimpy’ and made me walk downstairs all of what, a half hour ago? Fat fucking chance, you psychotic bitch. By the way, red hair’s just NOT your color.”

“That’s funny,” Penelope snottily remarks as she slowly gets up, raising her hands, “Amy sure seemed to like it.”

Enraged, Stef yells, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?”

“OH, OH, not much,” smirking at the double-entendre at the number of orgasms both she and Amy experienced in Jim’s room, “She’s fine.” Changing the subject, Penelope injects, “What did YOU do to Heather?”

“Less than nothing; you see, she still has her top on, a courtesy you did NOT extend to Erica and me. Erica took care of Heather, the same way I’m going to take care of you, bondage babe.” Stef points the gun at Penelope and motions for her to move closer to Heather. “Ready, ‘Outlaw Boots?’ Start walkin’!”

“You’re the boss,” Penelope sarcastically replies as she begins limping her way toward her well tied and tightly gagged cheerleader compadre.

Heather, looking on, does her best to create a distraction: “Nnnnnmph! Nnnnnmph!!” she gag-yells, as she scrunches her tied legs toward herself, lifts her bound boots off the tiled floor, and then slams their heels as hard as she can on the vinyl flooring. Stef looks over at her for a split-second; Penelope sees Stef look away and, grabbing a support column to steady herself, uses her good leg and looking behind at Stef, donkey-kicks her hard in the stomach, doubling her over:

“Uggh!” Stef yells out. Penelope’s gun flies out of Stef’s hand and into the middle of the room, away from all of them. Penelope lunges toward it, but Stef tackles her.

“Owww, you stupid bitch! Penelope screams, landing on her right hip and side. Her black Stetson flies off and her auburn page boy wig hangs on precariously. Stef grabs at Penelope’s arms to keep her away from the gun. Penelope frees her right hand, turns partly sideways over, her wig falling to the floor as she hauls off and leather-glove-bitch-slaps the left side of Stef’s face.

“Ayaah!” Stef yells, palming her injured cheek instinctively with her left hand. She uses her right hand and grab a mess of Penelope’s long blonde locks, pulling them back hard. 

“Aaaah, stop it, you bitch!!” Penelope yells, as Stef pulls her hair even harder, with Penelope attempting to wrest her mane away from Stef. Penelope succeeds, and then pushes Stef off of her and stands up. With Stef still sitting on the ground, Penelope throws a booted kick at Stef’s face; Stef moves, and Penelope, now off balance, makes herself an easy target for Stef to grab her leg and pull it, sending Penelope into the pile of light cardboard boxes and onto her back again. “Aaagh!” she yells as her mask flies off and lands on the floor.

Stef hurls herself at Penelope, jumping right on top of her and the boxes. Penelope wrestles away and throws Stef onto another part of the pile of boxes. “Uggh!” Stef yells.  

Suddenly, Penelope notices the gun within her reach, and moves over to grab it. As Stef is digging herself out of the cardboard pile, Penelope points the gun at Stef and yells a breathless order, “That’s IT! Get your fucking fat ass up, you bitch. And get ready for the molestation of your life! I’m going to tie you up, gag that big mouth of yours, and fuck you GOOD! We’re talking illegal-in-a-dozen-states-good!”

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