Carol and Tracy in the Old Dark House
By Jeb
Chapter Two
Sounds again.
Just as they had, earlier, the eerie noises in the house unsettled Tracy. She was fairly sure she was less impressionable than Carol was, but the noises didn't have to be the result of ghosts or hauntings to worry her. Something was wrong here.
The bathroom door stood open; there was no light there, and certainly no Carol. Tracy made her way through the dim bedroom, looking for the wall switch-then stopped. For some reason, it seemed more prudent not to draw attention to herself. Quietly, she slipped through the door, and out into the carpeted hallway.
Things were dim in the hallway... but not dark, as they should have been. And the sounds she heard weren't ghostly-- they were the sounds of human conversation, coming from downstairs. There was someone else in the house.
Now, Tracy's anxieties grew-- Carol missing? And someone in the house?
For all the comforts that had been added to the bedroom for Carol's stay, one thing was missing-- a telephone. The only one she had seen was downstairs, and her bag with her cell phone was in the other bedroom... she'd have to go back for it. She turned for the doorway... and heard another sound. This time, it was not a conversation in a downstairs room; this was close by: a low, muffled whimpering, accompanied by the tiniest of thumps.
Tracy closed her eyes, to focus on the sound... it was coming from... there!
She crept slowly down to the end of the hallway, keeping a wary eye on the door of a small linen closet on the right. She saw no one coming, though the level of conversation from below seemed to have lowered. Might that mean someone was on the way up here?
Again came the insistent thumping and whining. There was no question that it came from the tiny closet. No time to ponder-- if she went for the cell phone, whoever was downstairs might be up here any moment. Gritting her teeth, she stepped to the door, took the handle, turned it; she opened the closet door... and her jaw dropped.
While she had certainly been hoping to find Carol, she'd never imagined that she'd find her standing in the closet, all tied up, and with her mouth gagged!
**********
The sounds that had woken Carol were small and subtle, which was surprising considering how deeply she'd been sleeping. She blinked her eyes open in the dimness, rolled over, raking hair back from her eyes... and there was Tracy.
For a moment, Carol just leaned her head on her hand, and stared at the sleeping blonde.
Carol, what on earth have you done? She didn't feel ashamed, or embarrassed... but to say that things had changed between them would have been a serious understatement. Have I always wanted this? Or was I just taking comfort from my fears? As she mused, she realized that she'd been awakened by some sounds... sounds that she could still hear.
Carol shivered, and reached a hand toward Tracy's shoulder, to shake her to wakefullness... but then drew it back. She knew she was not quite ready for the inevitable conversation the two would have to have... and, besides, what was there to be afraid of, really? Ghosts! I mean, how silly! There has to be some reasonable explanation for all this. And I can't have Tracy thinking I'm some little kid hiding behind her all the time. Quietly, she slid herself out from between the sheets.
The evening was warm and mild, and Carol felt no need for a robe. She would simply walk to the door, open it, see that the hall was empty of any spooks, then crawl quietly back into bed. She reached for the doorknob, and realized as she opened it that the voices sounded less supernatural than they did... familiar?
"Hello?" Carol thought she saw some dim shapes as she stuck her head out into the corridor... and then, things happened with blinding speed: a strong hand cupped the back of her head, while its mate pressed itself firmly over her mouth. She felt powerful arms nearly lift her from her feet as she was dragged out into the hallway. She was spun around, the hand behind her head dropped to her waist, and she found herself pressed back against a large, strong male body; the hand over her mouth pressed her head firmly against the man's chest. His strength was terrible, and for all Carol's squirming, the iron grip never wavered; her cries for help were smothered by the huge hand. She saw the door closed behind her, and a pair of female forms turned to face her.
"Hello, Carol darling." The sharp-faced brunette was not much taller than Carol herself, but with an air of easy efficiency that went with her dark suit and tightly smoothed-back hair. "So nice to see you again."
Carol goggled at the sight of the woman: Ellen Tanner had married her Uncle Dan late in his life, and proved herself little more than a golddigger. No one in the family had cared much for her-- or for her daughter Cynthia and Cynthia's brute of a husband, Carl.
Carol screamed into the stifling hand again, regardless of the fact that she knew it was useless-- she simply couldn't help it! She had thought never to see them again; now, she was not only seeing them, but had fallen into their power!
She looked from Ellen to the grinning redhead beside her.
"Yes, Carol," her stepcousin Cynthia added, "Carl and I are here, too. It's just like old times!"
Carol was almost paralyzed with fear. She still remembered when Uncle Dan had died a few years back, and the rumors that had flown around about the less-than-grieving widow, and her ne'er-do-well daughter and son-in-law. Carol had done her best to be civil to the three of them when she'd been forced to meet them on family occasions, but it had been at least a year since anyone had seen or heard from them.
"You didn't think I was going to let any of Dan's money go to you, did you?" Ellen Tanner's face was hard as she watched Carol squirm helplessly against her son-in-law's grip. "The lawyers may have tried to keep me from getting my share, but I'd say that your share is a pretty good place to start." Carol's eyes widened at this, but the smothering hand over her mouth prevented any reply.
"But we'll get to that, all in good time," she went on briskly. "For now, we need you to stay put for a bit; I have things to do. Cynthia?"
"Yes, Mom?"
Ellen Tanner smiled, looking straight into Carol's terrified eyes as she ordered her daughter: "Tie her up... and gag her."
Cynthia had already picked up a coil of several lengths of white clothesline, while Carol writhed uselessly in Carl's grasp. She smiled. "My pleasure."
**********
It was as though time had frozen. It took but a fraction of a second for Tracy to realize what had happened, perceive the peril, and decide to act. But in that frozen moment of time, she found herself seeing Carol as she could never have imagined her.
The sight was like nothing she had seen before, except in the movies. Carol was standing in the small, stuffy closet, so small that there would not have been room for her to sit or lie down. She was still dressed in the flimsy pajamas, but they were harder to see, now, because white clothesline had been wrapped around her body, fastening her arms tightly to her sides.
Her hands were not visible, as they had been dragged behind her back, and no doubt tied together. The effect of this posture was to force Carol's breasts well forward, the ropes outlining them in a way that was more impossibly sexy than Tracy could ever have dreamed.
Carol's beautiful, doll-like face was half-hidden by an Ace bandage, which had been wrapped several times around her head, covering her mouth completely, confining her hair, pulling it close to her head so that it gleamed like a soft, shining helmet of some richly-polished wood. Under the bandage, where her mouth would be, was an enormous bulge, and Tracy realized that whoever had done this must have stuffed her friend's mouth full of something before applying the bandage.
Carol's big brown eyes were enormous over the gag, and were swimming with tears. Tracy's heart melted; at the same time, she felt another sort of melting sensation between her legs. She stood for the space of a full breath, taking in the way the ropes and gag accented Carol's beauty...and make her look so deliciously helpless, Tracy couldn't help thinking. It was with some effort that she pulled herself back to the reality of their immediate danger.
"Carol, who did this?" Tracy asked, then rolled her eyes at herself as she realized how ridiculous it was to expect the gagged woman to answer any question. She quickly set to work, scrabbling with her fingernails to find the seam where the bandage had been taped over Carol's mouth; she then unwound the bandage, and pulled from her helpless friend's mouth a huge, white washcloth.
"Oh, God, Tracy, I..." Carol's voice was hoarse, and her lips were trembling-- and were also even redder and fuller after wearing the gag, Tracy noticed; she flushed and scolded herself. Keep your mind on getting out of here!
"Carol, come on. No time for tears now." Tracy needed them both to stay focused! "What happened? Who did this?"
"My... my cousin."
"What?" Tracy was desperately plucking at the knots, but they had clearly been tied by someone who knew their business, and didn't want them undone any time soon.
"My step-cousin, Cynthia, and her mother, and her husband. They're relatives by marriage." Carol was pulling at the ropes, now, straining to find some slack "They're after the money, and--".
"No time for that-- we have to get out of here now!" Tracy gritted her teeth as she worked feverishly on the knots.
Two broken nails and a string of curses later, she'd made no progress. "Carol, I have to get a knife or scissors, or something."
"Tracy, don't leave me!"
"Carol, our only chance is--"
"Who the hell are you? And where did you come from?"
Tracy whirled around, cursing that she'd been unable to loosen Carol's bonds significantly. A redhead with a nasty look on her face stood in the hallway.
"Cynthia, please!" Carol called, should Tracy have had any doubt as to the woman's identity.
The redhead didn't answer, but put her head down, and ran at Tracy, to prevent her freeing Carol. Tracy rocked forward onto the balls of her feet, to balance herself, as Cynthia came rushing at her. As the woman closed, Tracy drew back a fist, and pivoted all her body weight into a punch that landed squarely on the woman's kidney. Cynthia collapsed to one knee, groaning, as Tracy turned back to try and make one last attempt to undo the knots binding Carol. Sweat running into her eyes, Tracy feverishly dug at the knots, seeing them finally begin to loosen, and hearing footsteps behind her.
"Hurry, Tracy, hurry!" Carol wailed. Tracy tried to straighten up to confront the new threat, when she felt herself pulled savagely back.
"Ahhhh!" Pain shot through Tracy's scalp, and her body was bent backwards. Powerful fingers were tangled in her hair, and she reached her hands to try and claw at her assailant with her fingernails; for her pains, she received a vicious yank of her head, and a sharp clout on the temple. The fist in her hair shook her head again, and it was a man’s powerful arm that reached around her waist from behind and pinioned her back against himself.
The redhead was staggering to her feet, and she delivered a slap of her own across Tracy's face.
"Give her to me. I owe her big-time."
"That can wait." A small, neat brunette in a dark suit, silk scarf at her throat, and gleaming smoothed-back hair, had come up the stairs to join them. Cries for help died in the two girls' throats as they saw the pistol held steadily in Ellen Tanner's hand.
"Who the hell are you?" Ellen Tanner addressed Tracy, crisply.
"My...my name is Tracy." She tried not to show her fear.
"And you're a friend of our little Carol? So, what do we have here? Nancy Drew and the Case of the Missing Roommate?" She laughed, and addressed the man holding Tracy.
“Carl, how did you manage to overlook the fact that the little slut had invited a friend for the evening?”
Carl gave only gave a surly grunt in response.
"Let us go!" Even as she said the words, Tracy realized how foolish it sounded-- she had nothing with which to threaten these people.
The woman chuckled dryly. "Quite the spitfire, are we? And a tall one, at that." She looked Tracy up and down. "I think, though, that we can cut you down to size a bit." She waggled the pistol in Tracy’s direction.
“Carl, make sure Carol is on her best behavior.”
The man released Tracy, who stood frozen under the threat of the gun. He gave an ugly grin, and ran his eyes up and down Carol’s helplessly confined form. With the prisoner’s hair now unconfined by the gag, Carl was able to twist a thick fistful of it around his hand, and he jerked her head back, painfully.
"Now, Carol dear," Cynthia gloated into her cousin’s face. "How about we just make sure your friend here doesn't make any more trouble? Hmmm?"
"And as for you, blondie--" Ellen smiled cruelly into Tracy's face, "unless you'd like to see Carl hurt your little girlfriend, you're going to stay nice and still while we fix you up."
Carol blinked back tears; not just from the pain of the man's hand twisted in her hair, but from despair: she'd always relied on Tracy to know what to do, to take care of things-- to take care of me!, she acknowledged-- and now, here was her tall and beautiful friend reduced to complete helplessness... and all because of me!... she let out a hopeless little moan.
Cynthia had opened a black leather satchel, and retrieved some more coils of the white clothesline. She regarded Tracy with a vicious smile; clearly, the woman would hurt Tracy if given half a chance. God, if only Carol wasn't in danger-- I'd teach this bunch a lesson they'd never forget! But, for now, all she could do was to stand, impotent, and allow herself to be bound to helplessness.
Cynthia turned to her mother. "Can I start?"
"Of course, dear," Mrs. Tanner smiled.
Carol wanted to turn her head away from the sight, but the grip in her hair was far too tight for that... she wanted to close her eyes... but she couldn't-- shamefully, she found herself mesmerized by what was happening to Tracy.
Cynthia had begun by pulling Tracy's arms sharply behind her back. As she crossed Tracy's wrists over each other, Carol found her attention drawn to her friend's chest: with her arms pulled behind her, Tracy's breasts stood out most prominently against her nightgown, and Carol realized, with a guilty start, that she was enjoying the sight of Tracy's nipples pushing their way up against the sheer fabric.
Cynthia appeared to know what she was doing, as she tied Tracy's wrists together with a cool efficiency. From her angle, Carol could not see the rope, but she saw Tracy's reaction as the knots were tightened; Cynthia was making certain that Tracy was not overly comfortable. Carol watched as Tracy's fine, strong, arm and shoulder muscles strained in an experimental testing of the rope, producing a laugh from Cynthia.
"Forget it, big gal-- when I tie someone, they stay tied. " Her eyes glittered as she held up more of the rope. "Not done with you yet, though, blondie."
Tracy gritted her teeth, biting back curses that would only annoy their captors and endanger Carol and herself. Cynthia took another loop of the white cord and tied it to the bonds at her wrists; she then wrapped it around Tracy's waist, pinning her hands just above her ass. The next length of rope was looped around her upper arms; Cynthia took a short pause as she gave the lightest of tugs to the cord. Once she was satisfied that she'd given Tracy a good preview of what was to come, she pulled it tightly, and despite herself, Tracy let out a sharp cry as her elbows were pulled together behind her back, nearly touching, and Carol gasped in sympathy at her friend's obvious discomfort.
Cynthia stepped back to survey her captive, and Carol found herself staring raptly: she had never dreamed of seeing Tracy like this before, and was at a loss to explain what it was doing to her, but she took it all in: the white rope criss-crossing the lovely breasts, the lush figure outlined in restraint, and, to top it off, there was Tracy's posture-- still proudly defiant of her captors... but, for all of that, still helpless. The strong arms that had held Carol in their embrace just an hour before were now powerless to help herself or Carol. The danger, the pain, the fear—these things were secondary to the thrilling arousal that Carol was feeling.
"Your turn, mom," Cynthia grinned, stepping behind Tracy and holding her in place by her bound arms.
Ellen Tanner stepped close to Tracy, so close that Carol shivered at the thought of the bodies in contact. She looked into Tracy's eyes, smiling at the defiance that met her gaze. Slowly, the woman slid her fingers along Tracy's scalp and into her hair; Tracy swallowed hard at the tingling that produced. Ellen Tanner allowed her fingers to tighten slowly into a fist, forcing Tracy's head back. Carol found herself twisting in Carl's grip, her insides strangely aflame ... almost as though she wished she were the one with a hand in her helpless friend's hair.
"Now, about this pretty mouth of yours..." Mrs. Tanner held Tracy's head still, their faces tantalizingly close... and her other hand held up a white washcloth. Her strong, slender fingers pushed the thick cloth against Tracy's lips. Tracy tried to resist, though her head was held painfully, but a squeal from Carol reminded her that her friend's safety depended on co-operation. Reluctantly, she allowed her mouth to open fully, and the washcloth was stuffed inside. The grip in Tracy's hair was released, and she gratefully stretched her head and neck. Relief was short-lived, however, as Mrs. Tanner took off the black silk scarf she had about her neck, and used it to jam the cloth deeper into Tracy's mouth, wind it around her head, and knot it brutally tight at the base of her skull. Yanking the knot, Ellen Tanner took Tracy's chin in steely fingers, turning her head to look into her eyes; Tracy noticed something flickered in them, something unsettling. Tracy had no doubt that these people meant her and Carol ill, but was there some more personal in the way she was regarding Tracy? The thought that she was wholly in this woman's power, a woman far smaller than she, was chilling, in a way that went beyond peril to life and limb.
While the gag was being applied, Cynthia had bound Tracy's ankles together with cord, and she and her mother lowered the helpless woman to the floor, lying on her stomach.
With Tracy bound and silenced, Ellen Tanner returned her attention to Carol. She picked up the washcloth from where Tracy had dropped it on the carpet. Carol, disgusted, clamped her mouth shut, but Carl's hand in her hair easily forced her to accept the foul cloth. Ellen then lifted the bandage from where it hung around Carol's neck, and tightly covered her mouth again. Tracy found herself straining to look over her shoulder, to make certain that Carol was all right... and, she knew, to get another look at her friend in her gorgeous restraint.
Ellen Tanner surveyed the scene: Carol bound and gagged in Carl's arms, Tracy writhing on the floor.
"Now, this is a bit of a complication, I'm afraid." Mrs. Tanner clucked her tongue and shook her head in mock distress.
"Yeah," Carl breathed, ogling Tracy's ass, "but one damn fine-looking one!"
Mrs. Tanner smiled warmly at that assessment, but didn't elaborate. Instead, she nodded toward Carol's bedroom.
"We'll put them in there for the time being... make things nice and cozy for them, hmmm?" Cynthia and Carl nodded their assent, then turned their attention back to the two captives.
Ellen Tanner tucked the pistol into a pocket of her jacket, and she and Cynthia each took one of Tracy's arms, pulling her up to her feet. As they did so, Carl sauntered over to stand in front of Carol, who was glaring daggers at him over her gag. Carl licked his lips, reached down, and picked the tiny captive up in both of his arms, his fingers allowing themselves the liberty to fondle Carol's ass as he did so. The lovely brunette cringed, and Tracy struggled furiously in her captors' grip, enraged at the way her friend was being handled.
"Let her go, damn you!", she tried to shout, but all that emerged from beneath the gag was a muffled whine that amused, more than annoyed, her captors. Carl then turned and carried his squirming burden into the bedroom. With Tracy's ankles still bound, Ellen and Cynthia had a bit more work to do, but they half-dragged their blond prisoner into the bedroom.
Carl had already deposited Carol on the bed, on her back, and was lewdly tracing the line of the bonds that encircled her arms and criss-crossed her breasts. Despite Tracy's struggles, the women were able to heave her down onto the bed, next to Carol.
For a moment, Ellen Tanner and her daughter and son in law didn't speak, but just stood, regarding the two helpless women glaring back furiously at them over cruelly-packed mouths.
"Let's get these two lovebirds nice and cozy, shall we?" Ellen Tanner produced several long coils of the white clothesline, and handed one to Cynthia. "Carl, please get our girls in position, would you?"
Grinning delightedly, Carl knelt on the bed, looming over the two captives. He placed a hand on Carol's firm little ass and rolled her to her side, facing Tracy's direction.
"Don't move," he warned Carol, as he turned his attention to Tracy. She, too, was rolled over to her side, facing Carol; as with Carol, Carl lost no opportunity to fondle Tracy as he manhandled her into place.
Carl now had the two women face to face on the bed, their bound bodies separated by inches. He reached down to Tracy's legs, stroked a muscular calf, and pulled her legs and Carol's together until they touched. At this point, Ellen and Cynthia went to work: more loops of the soft, tough cord were wrapped around their legs; because of the height difference between the two captives, Carol's ankles were fastened to Tracy's calves. Ellen and Cynthia worked their way up the girls' bodies slowly, making sure that each turn of the rope was cinched effectively, allowing the captives no slack.
Carl had nestled the two prisoners so that their torsos were nearly at a level. Once she was satisfied that the girls' legs were firmly bound, Ellen Tanner placed a hand on Tracy's ass—did it almost seem that the woman's fingers were exploring the shapely butt?—as she pressed Tracy up against Carol; Cynthia did the same to Carol, and both kidnappers lifted the girls enough to slide the rope under their bodies.
With the rope looped around their upper bodies, Carol and Tracy now felt themselves pulled even closer together; with only the thin material of pajama top and nightgown between them, their bodies slid against each other, Carol's breasts tucked under Tracy's, her head in her blond friend's chest. There were a few more twists and turns of rope, more fingers pinching and fondling, and finally, the gloating laughter of their captors as they left the two women alone.
Tracy's first thought was of escape, of course; whatever these people had planned for them was going to be unpleasant, at best. But a few minutes of squirming and pulling against the ropes persuaded her of the futility of any attempt; they were simply too well bound. Worse, by making her struggles so obvious, her failure was obvious, too... and Carol began to sob.
Oh, God, we'll never get out of here! These people are going to kill us! Carol's fears bubbled up, and came out as tiny, heart-breaking whimpers through her gagged mouth. She lay her head wearily on Tracy's chest, and the small sobs seemed to make Tracy's pulse race in time to them.
Tracy raised her head as best she could, to try and look down into Carol's face. At first, all she could see was the smooth hair on the top of her head, but by nudging Carol with her head a bit, she was able to get her friend to look up at her. The moist eyes nearly finished Tracy right then and there; the tall blonde strained in fury against the ropes binding her; even if there was no escape, she desperately wanted to take Carol in her arms, and reassure her that it would all be all right. After a few moments of exchanging glances, the strain of holding their heads up became exhausting, and both girls relaxed into their natural positions. As Carol's head lowered, the sweet scent of her hair mixed with the tang of her sweat, and Tracy moaned into her gag.
For her part, Carol found herself burying her face in Tracy's chest, closing her eyes, and trying to lose herself in the filmy nightgown, redolent of her friend and their passion.
For a few minutes, it was quiet in the room, as both bound and gagged women nestled closer to each other, taking comfort from their closeness and friendship. Carol snuggled down, and found herself nuzzling Tracy's neck with her gagged mouth, and brushing the top of her head under her friend's chin, allowing her soft hair to caress Tracy's skin.
Tracy gasped, and jumped as much as the ropes permitted... a motion that caused the bottoms of her breasts to rub deliciously across the tops of Carol's. From behind the packing in Carol's mouth, Tracy heard a tiny humming sound as her friend squirmed, prolonging the lovely friction.
The gag in Tracy's mouth didn't cover her lips, as Carol's did, and she strained her neck to try and get her mouth in contact with Carol's skin, succeeding in brushing her lips across Carol's shoulder. The tiny brunette whinnied into her gag, spasming as though the warm lips had planted an electric shock on her.
What the hell am I doing? Tracy asked herself. We're in trouble... we don't have time for--
What on earth am I doing? Carol wondered. She tried to get her mind back on their situation, their peril, but her brain had no room for thoughts now, just sensations: the sensations of Tracy's smooth skin, her warm, inviting breasts, and the scent that was beginning to become more and more obvious to both of them.
Tracy rested her face on Carol's head, her lips planting a gagged kiss on the soft hair. As she did so, she realized that her hips had taken on a life of their own, and felt herself begin to grind her loins against Carol. Tracy shut her eyes, horribly ashamed of herself for taking advantage of their situation in such a blatantly sexual way... then felt Carol's body begin to move against hers!
Carol realized that she had only been waiting for Tracy to make the first move, and she rocked herself back and forth as far as the ropes would allow, trying to press her groin up against Tracy's. What the embrace of the ropes was doing to her, she didn't even try to understand; all she knew was that she needed to be as close to Tracy as it was possible to get.
Bodies rubbed and slid against each other, sweat coating them both. Tracy strained at the ropes, trying desperately to find some position that would allow their contact to become as deep and intimate as she needed it to be. Carol was grunting into her gag, pushing herself towards Tracy; she could feel the heat radiating off her friend's inflamed pussy, but could do nothing to relieve the ache in her own: with no way to bring a hand or a leg up inside her-- either Tracy's or her own-- Carol could only moan in frustration, with Tracy matching her.
Both women, now, were bucking in their bonds, breathing harshly around the gags. For all that the ropes limited their freedom of movement, their bodies bounced up and down on the old bed, all thoughts of escape drowned in the animal passion driving them both.
It might have been the creaking of the old bed as they sought each other; it might just have been time for them to be checked on anyway. In either case, neither Carol or Tracy was aware, at first, that the door to the bedroom had opened again; footsteps approached the bed, and there was a gasp of astonishment.
"What the hell--?" Carl's voice sounded above them. "Geez, Cynthia, Ellen—you gotta come see this!"
It was too late. No turning back; a hundred Carls might have been watching, but neither Carol nor Tracy would have cared. All either of them wanted was to find that place they had been earlier in the night—but heightened by the thrill of being bound helplessly together, rocking against each other and moaning, desperately trying to free a hand, a finger- anything to allow some relief.
"Well, isn't this interesting?" Where Carl's voice hadn't even slowed them down, something about Ellen Tanner's chilly tones pierced the lust-fogged brains of the two women. "You two little sluts have been busy."
Carol shrieked into her gag, her frustration boiling over; not only had she and Tracy been unable to climax, but this bitch had seen them rutting away like animals! Knowing how Ellen Tanner felt about her, Carol could easily imagine the woman's satisfaction.
Tracy gasped and wheezed around her gag; could there be any humiliation more complete? She wanted to close her eyes and die... but, instead, found herself looking up into the coldly beautiful face of Ellen Tanner. Standing, she'd have towered over the woman; now, Tracy lay helpless, under Ellen's complete control.
"Well, this changes a few things," Ellen Tanner's voice was oily with satisfaction. "It looks like the girls, here, are in a playful mood. And, since we have a few hours to kill... what say we all play... together?"
To Be Continued...