KITTEN

by

Brian Sands

assisted by

Cordelia White

Lost City in the Jungle with Jane Adams, scanned from a Movie Star News print.

Chapter Two: Cousin Alice

‘I’m so glad you could make it,’ exclaimed Meg, giving the tall dark-haired woman a hug.

‘Good to be here, Love. I couldn’t wait to meet your, um, friend. Is this Mignon?’ The newcomer indicated the young woman sitting on the edge of the sofa with a slight nod of her head.

‘It sure is. She’s my best friend,’ said Meg affectionately.

The object of their attention wanted to say ‘hi,’ but she was prevented from doing so by the large white man-size handkerchief that was tied over her mouth in broad folds. The additional smaller woman’s kerchief, rolled into a thick wad and inserted between her jaws under the bandage, made speech problematic at best. All Mignon could do was make a friendly ‘Mmmph’ through the gag.

Her hands were tied behind her back with a short piece of the ubiquitous cotton cord twisted thrice around her wrists and tied off in a tight doubled knot. It was simple but effective.

Mignon wore a figure-hugging blue cotton dress with a scooped neckline edged in white lace. The cotton was so fine that it looked and felt almost like silk. It was patterned with a cornucopia of cherries and flowers that fell towards her knees. Had she been standing, the hem would have reached modestly to an inch below her knees. As it was, the skirt had been ruched high up her thighs to allow room for the cord that was looped twice around them and cinched between. Her ankles were bound together by simple double looped and cinched knots.

‘I like an economy of binding,’ observed Cousin Alice as she appraised Mignon’s captivity, bending and testing the bonds at the young woman’s knees and wrists thoughtfully. ‘But that won’t last,’ she added. Cousin Alice looked across impishly at Meg. ‘I also like lots and lots and lots of rope,’ she declared with a finality that brooked no rebuttal.

Meg gave none. She looked meaningly at Mignon, who nodded slightly in assent.

‘We’re prepared for that, Dear,’ said Meg with an affected sigh. ‘So tell us the scenario you have in mind. I’ve already supplied the address and map. You can spirit us away into the countryside whenever you like, as soon as we’ve changed into appropriate travelling clothes.’

‘Go ahead,’ said Alice encouragingly. ‘I’ll amuse myself with this.’ She held aloft a carpetbag. It’s size made Mignon’s eyes open wide in curiosity and with a touch of alarm.

What on earth can she have in there? The young woman wondered.

Meg untied her ankles and walked her to their room where the two suitcases were arranged side by side on the bed covers, both open and half packed.

Meg’s clothing favoured the red end of the spectrum, tight fitting skirts and dresses in purple and burgundy shading into black. Although her wardrobe contained the necessary little black silk dress with accessories, Mignon’s suitcase was a profusion of colours: different shades of blue, green, yellow, pink and red, with many neatly pressed and folded silk scarves.

In the capacious zip compartments of both suitcases lay neat rolls of cord and a variety of cloths of different lengths and sizes, some in plain colours and others in the patterns of the dress materials from which they came. Had they been travelling from one country to another, the customs inspectors would have raised their eyebrows. It had happened, the French officer instantly becoming chivalrous with a particularly broad wink in Mignon’s direction.

‘Here Kitten, time for a break.’ Meg stepped behind her young friend and untied the knots at Mignon’s wrists, folding up the cord and placing it in her suitcase.

Mignon remained still, rubbing her wrists lightly, not to relieve stiffness or poor circulation but to remove the feeling of the soft cord left by the subtle indentations in her skin. She had not been bound particularly stringently. It had been done to put on a bit of a show for Cousin Alice, as Meg expressed it. She did not touch her gag.

This time Meg stood in from of her prisoner and reached her hands around Mignon’s head, caressing her ears and the downy hair at the nape of her neck as she unbound the handkerchief. Mignon caught the gag as it fell from her mouth.

‘Enjoy the freedom, Dear, because it won’t be for long.’

Mignon and Meg prepared for their journey.

‘What shall we wear?’ Mignon asked.

‘I think we should dress to the nines for this. After all, it’s a special occasion.’

‘I wonder what Madame Alice is doing?’

‘Most likely inspecting and carrying out a little maintenance on her toys.’

‘I thought she wasn’t going to bring much?’

‘I guess it’s a little like some tradespeople who can’t travel without taking their tool kit with them. A plumber never knows when he or she will be needed. And I don’t think she brought a lot. I couldn’t hear any clanking when she hefted that bag.’

‘Clanking?’

‘You know, chains and stuff.’

‘Oh.’ Mignon shivered. ‘Do you think we’re doing the right thing?’

‘Sure, Sweetie. Alice, or to use her proper title, Mistress Alice, is completely trustworthy. As I said, we’ve known each other since we were children ... Now, let’s get dressed.’

Meg and Mignon showered quickly in relay so that when Meg entered the bedroom Mignon had already slipped on the lingerie she’d chosen for the adventure.

‘What do you think?’ asked Mignon, executing an exaggerated promenade up and down an imaginary catwalk. ‘I think our theme should be white. After all, we’re both captured heroines in this story.’

Mignon wore snowy white string sided panties in plain but light textured cotton with a broderie anglais pattern. She preferred silk or satin most times, but cotton felt appropriate for the occasion. She expected to be sweating a lot. And, in order to allow more support for lying on floors and rolling around, she had chosen a three-quarter cup bra, white with a grape vine pattern. It lifted and separated her neat pointed breasts, a vision that Meg never tired of seeing.

Taking up her protege’s idea, Meg walked to her suitcase and chose white string-sided panties with lace and a more daring half-cup underwire bra that lifted her full breasts to advantage. It too was white.

Mignon had chosen tan stockings with a white suspender belt. But Meg, in keeping with her preferences, choses charcoal stockings. Her suspender belt was white too.

The two women looked each other up and down.

‘Not bad,’ said Meg appraisingly. ‘White suits you, Kitten.’

‘Do you think we should wear slips as well?’

‘It’s the weather for it. I’d say yes.’

‘That’s good,’ agreed Mignon. ‘It feels nice to have a silk dress sliding over a silk slip.’ She said it with no trace of self-consciousness at revealing the sensuous part of her nature.

‘Especially on you, Dear. White again?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well you’re the arbiter of fashion!’

‘I’ll choose a full slip because I like the all-over feel.’

‘Hmm. I prefer half slips myself, as you know. But this time I’ll follow your lead, not for your hedonistic reasons though. I’m a little more practical.’

‘So you are.’

‘Parts of my country house are cold and we’ll need the extra insulation of wearing a slip beneath our dresses.’

‘That’s sensible. But we’ll be struggling too, and building up a sweat.’

‘Sure, but not all the time. There’ll be moments when we’ll have to lie still. Anyway, I bought this yesterday in anticipation.’ Meg held up a white full slip of fine cotton with a lace hem.

Without a word, Mignon held her choice over her body. It was glossy pure silk, very expensive, with transparent lace edged with satin where it covered her breasts.

‘What beautiful lace. No wonder you’re "Kitten,"’ said Meg with approval. She reached out and ran her hand appreciatively over the bodice of the garment, stroking Mignon’s fingers as she did so.

When their slips were on, Mignon and Meg looked expectantly at each other.

‘Heels?’

‘Why not, Kitten. They’re impractical but why not.’

‘I have flatties and a couple of other pairs in my bag.’

‘They’ll do for later. But let’s dress up to look really smart.’

The both chose black high heel shoes then turned to the great decision of what to wear for the world to see. After a moment’s thought, Meg chose a spotless cream two piece linen suit teamed with a silk blouse. The narrow skirt ended just above her knees. The blouse had long sleeves with cuffs turned back at the wrists. It was crimson with a narrow collar and Meg left the top three buttons undone.

Mignon’s pure silk dress was white with splashes of red and pink roses. It was drawn in at the waist by a broad black belt of soft leather. The full skirt swirled to mid calf and, as Mignon performed another sashay along the unseen catwalk, the fine material hissed softly around her thighs and legs.

‘Cousin Mistress Alice is already taken with you, little cat,’ said Meg. ‘She’ll do a real flip when she sees you in that rig-out. She’s rather fond of sweet young things who try to pretend they’re innocent when they’re not.’

‘That means she and you have a lot in common then?’

‘Oh yes. But it will all be in fun ... Now, when we’ve been kidnapped and taken to the hideaway, it’s our duty to try to get free. You know that, don’t you? No languishing and going off into a dream-world like you so often do on these events.’

‘I promise to try not to,’ said Mignon, though in all honesty Meg did not fully believe her young friend. ‘We can try to help each other get untied, like we did at Christmas.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Meg closing and snapping shut the latches of their suitcases. ‘Let’s tell our kidnapper we’re ready.’

Mistress Alice was waiting patiently for her new clients, seated in Meg’s favourite armchair and balancing a long glass of gin and tonic on one of the armrests. She beamed happily at Mignon when she saw her.

‘Aha, I knew I wouldn’t be disappointed.’

‘What did I tell you?’ whispered Meg in Mignon’s ear.

Cousin Alice continued. ‘You really are very lucky, Meg my old friend. But ... Let’s see what I have here.’ she put down her drink and rummaged through the carpetbag that lay on the floor by her feet. ‘Ah yes.’

She rose out of the chair and stood facing Meg and Mignon, a small Browning automatic pistol in one hand pointed at the narrow space between the two friends. It’s probably a replica, thought Mignon, but it looks very real all the same. Another shiver of anticipation ran through her body. She had been having that reaction all day every time she speculated what her circumstances would be by nightfall. It was past nightfall now.

But Cousin Alice was speaking. ‘Rule number one is no more talking unless I specifically request you to speak, or give you permission. You two have been interfering in my affairs for long enough and I intend to put a stop to it.’

Wonderful, thought Meg, she’s using the lines from one of our old games. We used to call it the ‘Spy game,’ or sometimes, ‘Gangster.’

‘I’m an expert at this, so don’t think you can play any tricks on me either of you.’

‘We- we won’t,’ stammered Mignon, who was beginning to wonder how real the scenario would become.

‘Silence! Didn’t I just tell you to be quiet?’

‘I- I’m sorry ...’

‘There you go again! You,’ she indicated Meg with a motion of her pistol, ‘stuff something into your young friend’s mouth. Her scarf will do.’

Mignon always carried one of her more beautiful scarves tied loosely to the handle of her shoulder bag when she was going out visiting or to the city. Meg took up the silk scarf of the day and, after folding it quickly into an asymmetrical rectangle, twisted it a couple of times and started to bind it firmly between Mignon’s lips.

‘No no no! It has to be more secure than that! I expect you to stuff it in her mouth. Never mind. Use it to hold this between her jaws.’

Mistress Alice knelt to her bag, still holding the pistol trained on Meg, and with her free hand produced a thick wad of medical gauze. She straightened and tossed it to Meg.

‘Now, do it properly. I thought you had more experience at this.’

Meg wedged the thick roll of gauze between Mignon’s teeth, then tied the silk scarf over the young woman’s lips and mouth, making sure that the knot was underneath her hair a little behind her ear. She had to smooth out the scarf first so that the silk covered Mignon’s lower face below her nose in order to keep the packing tightly in place. Although her hands were free, Mignon did not dare try to remove the gag.

‘That’s better,’ grated Alice. ‘Now, you,’ directing the command to Meg again, ‘lie down on the floor, on your face, and put your hands on your head.’

Meg obeyed.

Cousin Alice moved behind Mignon and gathered her arms behind her back. Mignon felt thin restraints encircle her wrists and understood with a shock that they were of leather. The knot when it was tied she knew would be impossible to pick with her long fingernails, even if she could have found it. Her new captor then knelt at her feet and bound one end of a piece of cotton rope about her right ankle, following that by tying the other end of the rope to Mignon’s left ankle. The young woman was effectively hobbled. She would be able to walk but only by taking short steps. It was a perfect measure to prevent a bid for escape. Mignon would not be able to run with her feet bound this way. Cousin Alice checked Mignon’s gag and tightened it so that the thick silk clung smoothly around her cheeks and jaws.

‘You have a neat, pretty mouth,’ she observed, ‘Easy to gag.’

She then turned her attention to Meg.

In a short time, Meg was standing beside Mignon, her wrists tied together behind her with a leather thong and her ankles hobbled in the same way as her friend. Mistress Alice tied a thick silk scarf between her teeth over a flat pad of medical gauze. She made a knot in the centre of the scarf first to prevent the gauze pad from slipping. Mignon already knew that it made speech a lot more difficult.

‘You have a slightly larger mouth than your young friend, so I have to take more care at silencing you,’ she said. Meg grunted faintly as the gag was made tight and secured.

‘Now for your blindfolds.’

Broad strips of white cloth folded to several thicknesses were bound over the eyes of the two prisoners. Mignon identified her blindfold as from a linen bed sheet. Its thickness blocked out all light. Cousin Alice continued speaking as she walked between Meg and Mignon, holding them by an arm and piloting them out of the apartment.

‘I did notice your carefully packed valises, dears, and I considered leaving them behind, because you shan’t need clothes much where you’re going. But, on the other hand, the pretty honey-haired one has such great dress taste that I’m curious to see what else she can model for me, her underthings for instance. You know, bra, panties, stockings or tights. Does she wear tights? That’s what the Americans call panty-hose. Or suspender belt? So I’m taking your holiday bags along.’

For Mignon, the emotions of apprehension and relief followed one another in rapid succession. At the mention of underthings, she felt suddenly vulnerable. To parade in front of a third woman in the lingerie she loved felt like a betrayal of Meg, and it was potentially embarrassing in any case. But the knowledge that her suitcase would be coming with them came as a relief. I shan’t have to spend the weekend only in my heels, she thought. (She was of course quite wrong, which will become clear as the story unfolds).

Mistress Alice continued. ‘But I have also several, um, costumes, that I want her to model for me. ... Ahh, that was close. You notice from the chill in the air that we’re now in the escape well, and people just walked past. People are so lazy and use the lifts most of the time in apartment buildings. That suits me.’

Mignon and Meg’s heels clacked on the cement steps as they descended to the parking area located on the ground floor directly beneath the apartment block.

As they walked out onto the flat surface, Mignon heard the door of a car being opened. Someone must see us. Cousin Alice’s plans are foiled, she thought. How are we going to explain this embarrassing picture to the innocent bystander? How do you explain two bound, gagged and blindfolded women being led at gunpoint by a third woman?

The footsteps of the innocent bystander approached. The heavy sound of heels suggested that it was a woman, wearing broad heel shoes, the sort nurses and office professionals wear, or police. Cousin Alice cleared her throat.

What explanation can she possibly give? Mignon asked herself.

Cousin Alice spoke.

‘Ah there you are, Joan. All clear?’

Mignon’s blood froze. There was a fourth woman, an unexpected X in the equation.