The Adventure of the Happy Cat
By Jeb
Part Five
The expensive leather was cold against Sophie’s skin. Doubled over across the seat, she puckered with goosebumps where the sports bra-and-shorts ensemble left her uncovered. The butter-soft upholstery caressed her exposed flesh in an almost obscene manner during the occasional fits of struggling with her bonds, her wrists chafing painfully with the effort, breath coming sparingly through her nose, her sponge-filled-and-taped mouth unable to supplement the oxygen. That the struggle was useless had become quickly clear—not that she would have expected any less from her grimly competent kidnappers—but the implications of surrendering to her fate didn’t much appeal to her, either, since being sold as some kind of sex slave appeared to be what fate had in store for her, and for the equally helpless Kat Farrell.
Realizing the gloomy fact that she wasn’t going anywhere except where her captors wanted her, she gave a defeated sigh through her nose, and simply knelt where she was bound, with her cheek on the black leather… and with her face just inches from one of the longest, most stunning sets of legs she had ever seen. Erika Cain was nestled comfortably in the seat, and any time the car rounded a curve, the swaying motion filled Sophie’s vision with the dizzying sight of the woman’s pantsuited ass sliding gently against the cool black leather. If Sophie had ever wondered how a woman could be attracted to a lover who treated them badly, she was rapidly learning how little effect logic might have on the loins: here was a woman who was planning the most heinous future imaginable for her, and all Sophie could think about was how damned attractive she was.
Maybe the most chilling aspect of the situation was the causal way their captors were behaving. There was no sense of urgency, and clearly they had no fear of being caught. Instead, Briggs and Minh made small talk in the front seat, while in the back, Erika Cain shuffled through some papers, occasionally crossing and uncrossing her legs with a feline ease that caused Sophie to whimper into her gag. That it was shameful and insane to be finding herself aroused by a situation in which she, and Kat, were in danger of death… or worse… she knew—but, then, sexual desire was often a form of insanity in the first place, wasn’t it?
If Erika Cain was aware of Sophie’s conflicted state of arousal, she gave no sign. Periodically, she reached slender fingers down and, as if unconsciously, began to play with her captive’s hair, casually running long silky tresses through her fingers, as though the girl that knelt at her feet was nothing more than some kind of exotic desk accessory. She read reports, and dictated a few memos, for what appeared to be legitimate businesses that camouflaged her illegal activities, all with the unhurried ease of a woman accustomed to having others helpless at her feet. Sophie’s body burned with conflicted heat: to be treated as one of this beautiful woman’s possessions was terrifying, enraging… and at the same time, darkly arousing.
The fact that Cain had also trapped and captured the beautiful Kat gave the blonde an even greater aura of erotic power. It was as though two lionesses had fought over a tasty morsel: Cain had emerged dominant and victorious, and was now free to enjoy the spoils. And I guess that would be me…
They arrived in a darkened garage that opened onto an equally dim corridor. Not having been able to see out the window from her position bound and gagged on the floor, the best Sophie could guess was that they were somewhere downtown in the Financial District, in a building that Cain either owned, or had the free run of, since she was evidently planning to stash a pair of kidnapped women there. Sophie felt another chill run through her at this external evidence of Erika Cain’s power: the blonde was a law unto herself, and to Sophie, the idea of a woman with no restrictions, no limits, was both frightening and almost overwhelmingly erotic.
The back door of the car opened, and Briggs’ voice broke the stillness of the deserted garage.
“Let’s go, ladies,” she chortled. “Got to get you settled in for the evening.”
Movement caught Sophie’s eye. Still strapped down to the seat, she tried to turn her head to look in Kat’s direction. There was a scuffling sound, followed by a dull “thud,” and a muffled moan.
“Figured you’d try something, red,” Briggs was holding a pistol in her right hand; she had evidently used it to cold-cock the redheaded agent, whose vain escape attempt had ended with her in a helpless heap on the floor of the garage. Sophie’s sob of despair turned into a muffled gasp as Briggs undid the belt holding her in place, and dumped her on the floor of the garage as well, breath whooshing out of her lungs, her face inches from Kat’s on the dirty cement; the fact that Kat was still conscious and breathing was one tiny bit of comfort, and Sophie just prayed that she’d avoided a concussion.
The hobbles at their ankles were once more loosened enough to allow mincing steps of a few inches at a time, and Sophie and Kat were hauled to their feet, with Cain languidly following. Briggs and Minh stood the captives up on legs shaking with lack of circulation, and Sophie feared she’d fall right over—a particularly unpleasant prospect when Minh took a fistful of her hair to propel her along to the next phase of her captivity; and with Minh being shorter than Briggs, Sophie was forced to bend painfully down even further than she had before, as she was forced along. From the corner of her eye, she could see Briggs similarly manhandling Kat, and it was clear that the big woman had no intention of letting down her guard with the captured agent; Kat seemed to be moving mostly under her own power, though, and Sophie took some small comfort from that.
The two prisoners were callously dragged up a stairway into the back of what seemed like a small, modern-looking office building. Erika Cain walked ahead of them, leading the way into an elevator, and up into what was evidently her private office; the whole time Sophie was straining to keep her head up, to avoid having her hair yanked out if she fell over, and in that position, she had little choice but to watch Cain’s trim buttocks saunter back and forth in the tight-fitting pantsuit… and while that was no painful task, it wasn’t going to do anything to get them out of this mess, either.
The office was actually a good-sized suite. The captives were taken into a room with a large reception area, empty at this time of night. Cain opened a door at the far end, and Sophie and Kat were brought through the office and into what appeared to be a personal apartment: in contrast to the corporate sterility of the reception area, this room was outfitted with chairs and a sofa, and a couple of end tables, one of which held a tray upon which rested a decanter and glasses of expensive crystal; a few Ansel Adams prints and some small unlit decorative candles on the various flat surfaces around the room seemed designed to further soften the antiseptic office atmosphere.
Once inside the room, Minh used her free hand to drag over a chair that appeared to be made mostly of chrome pipe, with a leather seat and back, and Sophie was thrown down into it. She was still sighing with relief at having her hair released when she felt Minh grab at her arms and pull them down behind the back of the chair. Sophie yelped into her gag as the chrome pipe along the top of the chair back dug into her armpits; Minh twisted some thin cord around the bonds at her wrists, pulling it taut, stretching her captive’s body even further. Sophie tried to lean back to compensate, but Minh simply drew the end of the cord under the chair, and sat down on Sophie’s lap, pressing her down hard in the chair. She passed more cord around Sophie’s waist, snugging it up against the back of the chair. She got up lightly from Sophie’s lap, keeping the wrist rope taut, before kneeling down behind the chair and tying more of the cord to Sophie’s bound ankles. The two lengths of cord were then joined beneath the chair, and cinched off, leaving Sophie’s body a closed circle of pain, with her wrist bonds and ankle bonds now connected to each other. Any movement of Sophie’s hands just pulled her feet more tightly, and vice versa, and with her body tied to the chair, there was no way to relieve the pressure on either set of bound limbs.
Sophie moaned into her gag at the strain of her body being stretched taut, but her captor paid her no mind. Instead, Minh sat down in a chair opposite her, pulled a small laptop from her bag, and focused her attention on the computer, as though minding a bound and gagged captive was nothing that would take any serious concentration.
Dammit, she’s probably right, too, Sophie thought despairingly. With me all trussed up like this, they really can do anything they want with me… anything…
She clamped her eyes closed furiously, forcing back the tears that wanted to wash away the last of her resolve. She’s a monster! she shrieked in her mind as the thought of being in Erika Cain’s elegant hands sent waves of fear and desire all through her. I’m nothing to her—not even a toy to play with. Just part of her latest sick shipment.
And Kat… Sophie opened her damp eyes to once more take in the sight of the thoroughly restrained and muffled agent, being manhandled by the cruel Juno Briggs. She took a terrible risk to try and keep me safe… whatever happens to her now is all my fault!
She flailed again at her bonds, knowing they would give not an inch, but so suffused with anger at herself that she almost relished the pain that resulted.
Awash with guilt and shame, Sophie could only watch helplessly as Briggs secured Kat. The big woman was clearly aware that the redhead might still have a trick or two up her sleeve: she forced the captive agent to lie face-down on the floor, tied her wrists to ankles above her back in a stringent hogtie, and pulled a black fabric hood down over her head, cinching it loosely about her throat, so that only a trail of red tresses showed beneath it. Bound, gagged, and now blindfolded, Kat gave an experimental tug at her bonds, as if to test their effectiveness, and was rewarded by a swift kick in the ribs from Juno Briggs. Sophie winced in sympathy, and Kat sagged to the floor, evidently defeated.
While Minh and Briggs secured the captives, Erika Cain had reclined on an expensive leather-covered sofa, stretching luxuriantly, as though a hard day of kidnapping had left her a bit shagged out.
Briggs walked over to the decanter and quietly poured out three glasses of the liquor. She fumbled with the glasses for a moment, then served Cain and Minh, no longer occupied with the laptop. She poured a third glass for herself, and Erika Cain raised hers in a mocking toast.
“To our two special guests,” she smiled coldly at the bound women. “Or should I say, to our latest merchandise acquisitions.” The three kidnappers shared a laugh at that, tossing back their drinks with relish.
Sophie sagged in her chair, the flush of arousal that Cain had elicited from her fading into cold and terrible fear. For the next few minutes, Cain and her two minions discussed in appallingly offhand terms just how the business of selling their captives was to take place.
“So it’s Sister Sledge again?” Briggs asked, and Cain nodded a reply as she sipped from her glass.
“Yes, the good Sister has lined up some excellent clients for her latest auction. We should be seeing a nice bit of coin out of these two. She’s particularly interested in the Fed—she has some political contacts that would gladly pony up for the chance to have a long, intimate conversation with a high-ranking American counterintelligence officer. I’d say a high seven figures isn’t out of the question.”
Oh… not THAT Sister Sledge, Sophie thought to herself. God, the information these women were so casually spilling—she and Kat could have them put away for life, maybe bring down a major white-slavery ring… if they could somehow manage to get out alive.
Cain took another pull at her drink, then set the glass down.
“We should be going.” She stretched again, and unfolded her long pantsuited legs as she got to her feet.
“I’m going to slip into something more comfortable, and we can be on our way.”
Briggs grunted a response, and Cain stepped into the anteroom.
As soon as the blond slavemistress had left, Minh quietly drew the small laptop from her pack again, flipped it open, and began typing quietly, but with clear purpose. She looked up at Briggs, who simply nodded back. As the little goth went back to work, the tall woman looked over at Sophie, and her face broke into a sickening parody of a smile. She had the look of someone dying to share a secret, and had just opened her mouth as if to let Sophie in on it, when Cain’s voice came from the other room.
“Juno!”
For a moment, Sophie thought someone else had entered the office: the strain in the voice made it difficult to recognize as that of Erika Cain.
“Hmmm?” Juno’s response was to cock an eyebrow at Sophie and draw her lips into a tighter smirk.
“J… Juno! Something’s wrong!”
“What’s that, Erika? Can you speak up please?” Briggs’ voice was casual, and smooth as butter; Minh looked up from her typing long enough to break into a thin smile of her own, then returned her attention to the keyboard.
“D…Dammit, Juno….” Erika Cain’s voice sounded thick and uncertain to Sophie’s ears. She turned toward the sound, and her eyes widened over her gag at the astonishing sight.
Erika Cain was propping herself up against the doorway with one hand. The other was rubbing her face, perspiration beading her forehead and coursing down a cheek. Whatever had happened, it had hit Cain well into her change of wardrobe, because the blonde stood in the doorway, on shaky feet, dressed in nothing but white silk bra and panties!
If Sophie’s feelings about the woman had been conflicted, her doubts were fading rapidly: not that there had ever been much doubt about the figure that underlay the expensive outfit, but seeing that creamy, ivory-skinned body in this startlingly intimate dishabille was, even in her present circumstances, overwhelming.
Cain leaned weakly against the doorjamb, and she seemed to be having difficulty focusing as she tried to question her erstwhile henchwoman.
“Wh—whut… is… happ…?”
Cain stumbled forward, unable even to finish the question, but was kept from falling by Briggs’ huge hands grasping her shoulders. The tall woman looked into her employer’s slightly foggy blue eyes.
“Feeling a little wobbly, are we, boss? Don’t worry… it’s nothing fatal.” Her eyes hardened. “I would never in a million years finish you quickly.”
Incomprehension clouded Cain’s face, and Briggs tightened her grip on the woman’s upper arms, glaring fiercely down into her face.
“You think my spending five years in jail while you went free was just something I’d forget?” Briggs was hissing through gritted teeth. “You get rich while I have to fight my way to the top of the bull dyke food chain, just to survive? No, you owe me, big-time. And if you can’t give me back those five years… well, I guess I’ll just have to settle for a few million dollars.”
Cain shook her head weakly. “No… no…” her voice tailed off and her body sagged. Briggs shook her by the shoulders. “Don’t drop off just yet, Erika—you haven’t heard the whole story!” The blonde’s head rocked weakly as Briggs went on.
“Your property, legal and illegal? Mine. Your businesses, legit and… otherwise? All mine, now,” Briggs sneered. “Well… mine and Minh’s.” The little goth was grinning over the screen of the laptop. “She’s just about finished hacking your accounts, now, and in just a few minutes, we’ll be wealthy, and you… well, you’ll be a wanted felon with nothing but the clothes on your back.” She punctuated the cruel joke by snapping the elastic waistband of Cain’s panties; the blonde gave a weak yelp, but was otherwise unable to react. “Though I actually don’t think you’ll be needing any clothes. You know, I was always surprised you trusted me with all your personal information, but I guess that’s a mistake you won’t make again.”
Minh closed the laptop and nodded. “Done.”
“Good,” Briggs responded. “Now, it’s time to get the boss all nice and comfy before we take off.” She spun the drugged woman around, dug her fingers into the pale flesh of Cain’s arms, and forced her to stumble forward toward where Sophie sat bound and gagged. Cain tried to resist, but it was clear that she was barely able to stand on her own. The only defiance she could muster was an ineffectual glare from blue eyes that seemed to be fighting to stay awake. Briggs led her as easily as if she were a child, to stand in front of Sophie, who was still goggling at them over her gag.
“She’s a cutie, isn’t she, Erika?” Briggs leered, looking down at the helpless girl, and affecting a loud stage whisper in the blonde’s ear. “I know you’ve had the hots for her since we tied her up back in the shop. Seems only fair, then, to let you two spend your last moments on earth together.” And she pushed the unresisting Cain down, forcing her legs apart, sitting the woozy blonde right down on Sophie’s lap!
The bound girl gave a dumbfounded cry into her gag, startled both by the incredible turn of events and the nearly electric sensation of having Erika Cain’s panty-clad rump pressing down onto her thighs. Cain’s head lolled as Briggs forced her into closer contact with Sophie; the blonde would snap her head to attention, like someone trying not to doze off at the wheel of a car, but then sag forward again. Briggs drew Cain’s arms around to the back of the chair behind Sophie, as far as they’d go, then looped rope between her wrists and yanked it tight, forcing the bound blonde hard up against Sophie. Erika Cain now held her former prey in an enforced embrace, her head resting on Sophie’s right shoulder, the two bound women now cheek to cheek. While Briggs was fastening Cain in place on Sophie’s lap, Minh was looping rope about her calves and ankles, efficiently binding them to Sophie’s, which were still anchored to her wrist bonds, and pulled up under the seat of the chair.
Briggs then looped rope around Cain’s waist, passed it behind Sophie’s torso, then pulled tightly, forcing Cain into even closer proximity to her erstwhile captive, with nothing more than a sports bra and some expensive lingerie keeping the two from being practically nipple to nipple. Cain’s resistance was limited to some drugged muttering and the occasional bit of writhing that had Sophie nearly insane with guilt and desire, neither of which did anything to prevent their being locked into bound intimacy: as much as Sophie was tied to the chair, Cain was now tied to her!
Once she had her prey secured, Briggs reached down and placed a huge palm on top of her former boss’ head, rocking it back and forth with casual ease, then turning her face up to her. She took in the sight of the two captive women in their enforced embrace, and leered into the bleary blue eyes.
“Hey, Erika, it’s not all bad, you know: if you’re lucky, you might just come out of the drug in time to get off on this little beauty once or twice before… well, before the end!”
Briggs cackled lecherously. She threw Cain’s head forward again, and the clip holding her coiffure in place fell off, and the piled-up hair tumbled forward, surrounding Sophie with a curtain of soft golden tresses. The scent of expensive shampoo mingled with the blonde’s perfume, filling Sophie’s head like an intoxicant; her face lightly tickled by the silky locks beside her cheek.
Briggs took a moment to tug the ropes even more snugly, and Sophie was sure she’d pass out from the pressure of Erika Cain’s lingerie-clad form drawing ever more tightly against her.
“J…Juno...” Cain’s voice was a throaty croak, but whatever she might have had to say was reduced to muffled gibberish, as Briggs held her former employer by her long, now-loose, hair, yanked her head back, and filled the elegant mouth with a huge sponge, similar to those gagging Sophie and Kat. The tall henchwoman laughed at the sight of Cain’s cheeks bulging, then tore off a strip of the heavy tape and pressed it smooth over Erika Cain’s lips, repeating the process for good measure.
“Sorry if that streaks your makeup a bit,” she giggled.
Cain snarled under the gag, and began to squirm more vigorously: it appeared the drug was beginning to wear off. Sophie squirmed, the heat radiating through her nether regions intensifying as Cain’s struggles increased. The loosening of the drug’s hold allowed her some slight control over her muscles again, but the bonds rendered that control useless. She was secured in Sophie’s lap, reluctantly hugging her former captive, and not going anywhere on her own.
Sophie closed her eyes, trying desperately to force from her mind the sight of the blond goddess whose body was pressed so insistently against her own. She knew she was more than halfway in love with Kat, but that counted for little when a figure of this perfection was nestled up against her, when her head filled with the scent of the woman’s perfume and shampoo. If there was anything more embarrassing than being sexually aroused by a woman who had kidnapped her, and was evidently about to be tortured, or perhaps even die, alongside her, she had trouble imagining just what it might be.
Briggs stood back, and contemplated her handiwork with a sigh.
“Now there’s a picture.” She turned to Minh. “You sure we
can’t take these two along?”
The goth shook her head. “Too much trouble. We’ve already got Cain’s accounts,
and if the Fed’s going for anything like what Erika said, those liquid assets
will come in handy.” She jerked her head in the direction of the helpless Kat
Farrell. “One’s easy to transport and fit in the trunk, but two or three are
more likely to attract attention. We’re making millions on this already-- getting
greedy just exposes us to more risks.”
Briggs nodded and sighed. “I suppose you’re right, though it’s a shame to waste such perfectly saleable girlflesh. Can’t be helped, I suppose.”
Sophie shrieked into her gag: however vile she found the idea of being sold into slavery, she was sure that Briggs’ planned alternative was far worse. Cain, too, growled low in her throat, but was no more able to alter their situation than one of the Happy Cat statues could have: the “end” that Briggs had referred to was to come far more quickly than she’d feared.
Juno Briggs stepped to the table where the liquor and glasses stood, looking down at the unlit candles. She flicked open a cigarette lighter, and cocked an eyebrow at her captives, as if challenging them to figure out what she was doing. She used the lighter to set flame to a few of the candles.
Then, offering no explanation, Briggs picked up the decanter of liquor and casually splashed some into a glass. With a smirk, she came to stand over the two helpless women. She pulled Sophie’s head back by the hair, then splashed half of the glass’s contents into the girl’s face, dumping the rest down her front. Sophie snorted through her nose, as much from surprise as anything else, then felt Cain yanking furiously once more at the bonds that joined them together, as though this would be one indignity too many. Briggs watched for a moment, amusement written in every crease of her smile as she filled another glass. She then walked back to the bound duo, twisting fingers into Erika Cain’s golden mane, and held her face back: rather than dashing the liquor into Cain’s face, as she had done to Sophie, she took her time, slowly dribbling the amber liquid across her forehead and cheeks, up into her hair, and all over her chin and gagged mouth, dumping the balance of it down the front of her bra. Wordlessly, she then picked up one of the flickering candles, regarded the sight of the two half-naked women bound into their enforced embrace, and spoke to the captives in an exaggerated cliché of a Southern policeman’s drawl.
“Looks like some of those disgusting lesbians were up to their filthy perversions again,” Briggs mock-scolded as she placed the candle down on the table next to the half-empty decanter. “Guess they got a little careless with their kinky games, and… well, you play with fire, you get burned.” Sophie’s eyes bulged over her gag at the implications of what Briggs was saying. The big woman picked up the decanter, and spilled the rest of its contents across the table, and in a line on the carpet leading straight to the two captives.
“And, of course,” she went on, smiling down at the helpless Erika Cain, “with the anonymous tips that Minh has just been leaking to the cops about the activities of you and your pretty little ‘accomplice’”—Briggs nodded at the horrified Sophie— “I’m sure they’ll be happy to use this ‘tragic accident’ as a way to close the books on a few of their messier cases without asking too many questions.”
Minh came up behind her, grinning widely. She muttered something that Sophie didn’t catch, and Briggs laughed heartily. She stepped over to where Kat Farrell still lay prone on the floor, hogtied, hooded, and gagged, and hefted the helpless redhead to her shoulder. Kat had never completely abandoned the fight against her bonds, but under Brigg’s control and strict bondage, her movements were barely more than twitches, their futility piling another layer of heartbreak onto Sophie.
“See ya, boss,” Briggs looked down at the captive Erika Cain with an air of finality. “Shame you didn’t do a better job of looking after a loyal employee.”
And with that, she tipped two of the candles over, watching as the melting wax pooled and hardened in the spilled liquor… and then the amber liquid ignited.
To Be Continued...