KITTEN
by
Brian Sands
assisted by
Cordelia White
Chapter Four: Kit Inspection
Mistress Alice paused to allow her last words their full impact. Mignon squeaked faintly through her gag. Meg sat motionless, looking up at Alice with stony resignation. Satisfied that she had made her point - sweat was breaking out on Mignon’s wide brow - Meg’s cousin continued speaking.
‘Joan Darling and I will give this neat little place the once-over. Such a pity you can’t be allowed free to take us the guided tour. All proud new owners feel obliged to give their guests the tour whether they like it or not, isn’t that so? But there are a number of rules that I shall keep in place at all times. They revolve around making it quite impossible for either of you to get free. Hence no guided tours, no country walks. I’ll elaborate on my rules when we’re back from our little inspection. In the meantime ...’
She picked up one of the blindfolds. Joan stepped forward and followed suit.
‘You’re kidnap victims, and that means keeping you blindfolded a lot of the time. It’s disorienting. It’s frightening, isn’t it pretty Mignon? And it’s a wonderful way of keeping you both docile and tractable. When you can’t see ...’ Alice began to tie the blindfold across Mignon’s eyes while Joan stooped over Meg and did the same for her. ‘When you can’t see, you have no idea whether one of your guards is watching you or not. There, tight and cosy enough for you dear?’
‘Mmmmph.’
‘Good, always happy to oblige in that department. Yes ... You might struggle for an hour and succeed in some small way to loosen a knot or, better still, manage to slip your blindfold - only to find one of us watching you with a drink in our hand and a novel on our lap. Then you will be bound or blindfolded even tighter than before. You see, there’s no escape ... Come Darling Joan, let’s see what possibilities this place has to offer.’
Mignon could not be sure whether Mistress Alice and Joan were still there standing in front of their prisoners, gloating in silence. The young woman breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the twin click and clack of their respective heels on the wooden steps that led to the upper areas of the house. We’re alone for a few minutes, she thought. Maybe we have time to get each other free. Or perhaps to get only one of us free. If it was me, I’d find somewhere to hide and try to rescue dear Meg if the chance came. But there are two of them. If I’m caught, I couldn’t do anything to help myself. Cousin Alice’s henchwoman looks very strong. How should I think of her, as Mistress Joan perhaps? I’d be no match for her.
She felt Meg’s nylon encased legs rubbing against her own and guessed that her friend had the same idea and was trying to work her hands free. Mignon flexed her fingers and tried to twist her wrists within their restraints, but she stopped almost immediately with a frustrated groan. She had forgotten how tightly her hands were tied and that the ligatures were of thin hide.
Mignon could not fight back the stifled sob that began in her throat and tried to escape through the gag. She felt Meg’s own experimental struggles cease almost at the same time as hers. Their wrist bonds were too tight and painful to allow any notable struggling, which was doubly hampered by having their legs bound together. She had seen this in an erotic comic strip about Sweet Gwendoline, but had never understood how effective it was in preventing movement. Wearily, Mignon laid her head against Meg’s shoulder. She felt the older woman nuzzle her face, bound cheek against bound cheek.
*
When mistresses Alice and Joan returned, Meg and Mignon were still blindfolded, gagged and bound on the sofa.
‘What a pretty picture!’ exclaimed Alice. ‘You are however breaking one of my rules, but steps will be taken about that shortly.’
‘I must say that this place isn't bad, Alice Dear.’ It was Joan, speaking for the first time, Mignon noticed, in more than monosyllables.
‘That’s right,’ replied Mistress Alice. ‘You've a spacious cellar, Meg, and a smaller but neater attic, several interesting closets and clothes chests, also three good bedrooms. Joan and I will have the two rooms with the double beds of course.’
‘Wonderful!’ breathed Joan.
‘And, when you are allowed bed rest, there’s one with a single bed I’m sure you and sweet Mignon won’t mind sharing.’
Mignon realised with a jolt that it must be quite late, maybe past midnight and therefore into Saturday morning.
‘Nice bathrooms,’ said Joan.
‘Lot's of soaps and smellies,’ agreed Alice. ‘I’ll let the two of you use them soon. That’s one of my rules, by the way. My prisoners must always be kept presentable for their buyers. And I’m sure you both need to freshen up after your long and somewhat restricted journey. Ha ha.’
‘Do you think we should tell them the ground rules now?’ asked Joan.
‘Yes indeed, some of the more important ones. I’ll think of others as time goes by. But first ...’ Mignon felt her blindfold being untied. ‘I want to see your eyes and your reactions again.’
Mignon blinked against the light and looked around them. Nothing had changed. But what did she expect, that the kitchen had moved somewhere else? Their situation was no different from what it had been before. She did note again the full knife rack in the kitchen. Later, when everyone was asleep, if she was able to hop on bound legs, she might be able to get there and free herself. Mistress Alice’s next words put a dampener on that idea.
‘Most of the time the two of you will be kept tied up tight. As I said, you will be allowed bathroom privileges. There will be light household chores for you, and I may have to be more lenient during those times. But for most of our stay as your house guests, you will be kept tightly bound and gagged.’
‘Nnnn mmmph!’
Mignon shook her head wearily. Meg gave no reaction.
‘Oh I know all the cliches like, "Do you promise not to scream or call for help if I take off the gag?" The heroine nods her head, the villain unties her gag. She either screams straight away and the gag has to be replaced immediately - that was in one of your novels - or the heroine uses her teeth to undo the knots of her bonds, or she gets to a phone and dials for help that way. ‘
‘Nnnn mmmph! Nnnn mmmph!’
‘There you are, acting to type.’
Maybe we are all living one big cliche, thought Mignon in despair.
Alice continued. ‘If I left you ungagged, no one would hear you if you screamed, in a place as remote as this. But it’s harder for you to plot together if you can’t speak. And besides I like you gagged the way you are - or some other way, the combinations are many - and it will instill good discipline.’
‘So there are rules one and ...’ said Joan.
‘Yes. Rule One, you are to be kept tightly bound most of the time. Rule Two, as valuable prisoners you will have limited bathroom privileges. Rule Three, you will remain gagged most of the time. It goes with the binding. Rule Four, try to escape and Joan and I will tie you even tighter. Rule Five, blindfolds are compulsory most of the time. Do you understand so far?’
‘Mmm mmmph!’
‘Mummmph!’
‘Good. It’s so nice that we understand one another. There are other rules, and I’ll make some of them up as we go along. The Rule for Joan Darling and me is to be eminently adaptable. We will counter any ploy for escape on your part with a ploy of our own that will keep you as our helpless prisoners. So give up all hope of ever getting free.’
‘This isn’t the way you’ll stay ...’ interposed Joan.
‘Indeed no. Once I have you properly secured ... No Meg, you are not yet properly secured. Mignon, you may not believe that to be possible, but it is.’
Mignon had been wondering how long she and Meg would be required to sit still with their legs bound together. It was good for temporary restraint, better in some respects than being anchored to a wall or a strong fixture such as a bed or a heavy table. But it tended to rule out other ways by which her body might be bound.
‘Another Rule, is ...’
‘Rule Number Six.’
‘Thank you Joan Dear. Rule Six is that you will be kept bound separately, in separate rooms, for most of the time. That will be necessary when we move into the phase of persuading each of you alone to sign over your bank balances to us. There will be more of that later, a lot more.’
‘And corollary to Rule Six ...’
‘If you are bound together it will be done so efficiently that neither of you will be able to help the other.’
‘See how hopeless the situation is for you?’
‘Darling Joan is right ... Now ... clothes.’ Mistress Alice paced the carpet in front of her bound captives. ‘These really involve more rules, but Joan shan’t enumerate them any more. Right dear?’
‘As you say, Mistress.’
‘You won't be needing many clothes. In fact, it is company policy that we burn your outer garments no matter how stylish they are. It’s what you have underneath that I will enjoy working with, swapping them around. That’s where your suitcases will come in handy. As I said before, I almost left them behind but curiosity got the better of me ... Joan Dear, please bring in one of the cases from our ladies’ bedroom. The one belonging to Mignon first I think. I’ve been dying to see what out sweet young thing wears, especially beneath those fine silk dresses she obviously likes so much.’
‘Mmm mmmph!’
Mignon was mortified at the sheer thought of her filmy underthings being on display.
*
Meg and Mignon squirmed in their ropes and gags once more, while Cousin Alice pored over the contents of Mignon’s valise. Her eyes came to a rest on something.
‘Ugh,’ she announced flatly. ‘Sensible shoes! My god! Still, I suppose one can’t live in heels all the time. I have respect for your common sense Mignon dear, but they’re totally inappropriate for this occasion. They will have to go, Joan. Burn them with the dresses and suits tomorrow.’
‘A pleasure.’
Mignon looked on as her flatties were handed to Mistress Alice’s accomplice. She’d have to wear heels after all. Well, in a way she liked that. That is, if she was going to get shoes at all. She did not like Alice’s cryptic remarks about persuading her and Meg separately.
‘Ick! You can add these too,’ said Alice. She handed a selection of garments from the bag. Mignon noticed her woollen sweater, and her knee-length skirt, and Meg’s shirt-waister dress that she’d borrowed and packed in with her own things.
As Joan exited with the offending garments, Alice turned to Mignon.
‘I’ll let you keep your calf-length silk dress for now. It’s thin enough to be quite charming as long as nothing is worn beneath it. I know it’s a change in company policy, but we make the rules here and have the authority to modify them in special cases. Some of these changes are only temporary. And there are more rules to come. Having such a sweet person in our clutches is exceptional. Joan and I will enjoy you thoroughly, my dear, and change our rules to suit ourselves.’
When Joan’s clunky heels were heard on the stone flags from the laundry, Alice called to her, ‘It will soon be time to show our two captive doves some of the contents of our bags. Please fetch them from our room, Joan Dear.’
Mignon watched as Joan carried two bags into the sitting room. One was the carpetbag Alice had been carrying on first meeting them at Meg’s flat. That seemed like years ago although it was only a matter of, possibly, six or seven hours. Mignon had lost track of time and the kitchen wall clock was out of sight from where she was sitting. So much had changed since then. The other was a military-looking duffel bag that evidently belonged to Joan. It looked heavy, and Mignon wondered what on earth could be in it. A creepy feeling ran up her spine and her body gave a large involuntary shiver.
‘Hmm. Thank you Darling. I think I’ll allow our two friends to stew over the contents of those bags. Mignon, sweetie, your eyes are bulging out of your head I’m pleased to see. There’s nothing like establishing a little respect. But now for rule ...’
‘Rule Two.’
‘Thank you Joan Dear. Yes, Rule Two, Bathroom privileges.’
*
‘’We’ll start with honey-haired Mignon,’ said Mistress Alice with relish. ‘Joan Dear, will you free the pretty girl from her bonds. You’ll handle her if she gets any ideas about trying to escape? I shan’t have to bring out my little gun?’
‘She’ll be no problem,’ said Joan firmly.
Mistress Joan leaned over and with a careful movement cut the leather thongs that bound Mignon’s wrists. As the knots of the ankle ties that held her legs to those of Meg were undone, Mignon huddled her arms in front of her and attempted to massage circulation back into her aching wrists. A faint whimper of relief escaped through her gag.
‘The gag stays on,’ said Mistress Alice callously. ‘Remember ...’
‘Rule Three.’
‘Sometimes I wish you were not so, um, military and organised about all this,’ said Alice. ‘Still, a good henchperson is hard to find in the villain market nowadays. They’re all out doing corporate crime.’
‘All present and correct, Mistress,’ said Joan, coming to attention.
‘Ah, irony now is it? All right,’ Alice turned her attention to Mignon, ‘Stand up!’
Mignon obeyed. Her legs almost gave way and Joan supported her by one arm almost tenderly. When she was on her feet, swaying slightly but otherwise stable, Alice spoke again.
‘That’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing. It must have eaten into those royalties. ... Take it off!’
Mignon looked uncomprehending at her captor.
‘I said take it off! Bathroom privileges, remember ... Oho, you don’t want to undress in front of us. Well, too bad. Joan will help you if you like.’
‘Nnnn mmmph!’
‘So get on with it then!’
Her face crimson - that part of it which could be seen above the leather mask, the gag’s tightness adding to the suffused effect - Mignon undid her waist belt and drew down the zip fastener. The luscious material slid down her body to subside in a gentle wave about her feet.
Mistress Alice drew in her breath. It was a soft, sibilant sound.
‘A full slip too. I thought I saw the lace pattern around the bodice lightly etched through the silk dress. It’s truly lovely and you’re one woman who can carry off the wearing of a full slip, which looks a little dowdy on many women, by today’s standards. But that comes off as well.’
With slender fingers, Mignon pushed the shoulder straps over her arms and, experiencing a frisson of apprehension at the thought of being seen in her bra and panties, allowed the slip to cascade down her body. It fell in billows around her ankles to mingle with the white, pink and red of the dress. She stepped delicately out of the silken moat encircling her feet and straightened up to face Cousin Alice.
Mignon looking proudly at her captor, soon probably to be her tormentor. She experienced a certain frisson of delight to be admired so honestly for her taste and beauty. Mignon was like many young women lucky to have been endowed with beauty and to have cultivated a sophisticated dress sense. She was a little vain, but not in the sense of snobbery. Hers was more a case of amour propre.
Mistress Alice closed her hands in front of her mouth in delight.
‘So spotless. So, um, innocent. But you’re not, are you my dear? You may be young but you’re the epitome of that cliche, "a woman of the world." That’s a lovely bra. Three quarter cup suits very well. But I think a half-cup will be more diverting, before we divest her of it, ha ha.. We’ll see, Joan Dear?’
Having just come to terms with being seen in her bra and panties, Mignon felt additionally mortified to hear someone discussing them. It was the same phenomenon as when someone who is sick or regarded as a half-wit is discussed loudly in their presence as though they were not there.
‘She’s as we were led to expect, Mistress.’
‘My word, yes. Now, dear Mignon, the bra next if you please.’
By now Mignon was expecting this. As she reached up and unfastened the front clips, she experienced another, different emotion. Her modesty was assaulted by three pairs of eyes, only one pair of which had the privilege of knowing her body on many other occasions. But being forced to undress in this fashion, in a guided strip so to speak, gave her an indescribable sense of freedom. As the bra dropped to the floor, she resisted the impulse to cover her breasts with her arms and hands. Let them look, she said to herself. There’s nothing I’m ashamed of.
Cousin Alice’s reaction was of silent approval.
‘Now the next items please.’
These were the suspender belt and the tan stockings. Mignon unfastened the clips to the stocking tops and let the suspender belt with its pink ribbons fall to the floor. Then, placing one foot on the arm of a chair, she rolled one stocking down her leg to her toes and removed it with care, seeing that the journey and the ropes around her ankles had not caused it to ladder. She did the same with the second stocking, but noticed with chagrin that this one had a small ladder where the ropes had cut in against her calf.
When she straightened up, Alice gave her no respite.
‘Plain cotton panties? Another small blow for common sense. But an attractive broderie anglais pattern and the cut I must say is pleasingly skimpy. They’ll have to go of course. Drop them now dear.’
This was the crunch as far as Mignon was concerned, but there was no way out. With a mixture of defiance and inward pleasure, she slipped the narrow string panties down her buttocks and thighs and with a wiggle allowed them to fall onto the floor about her feet. She stepped out of them and stood facing her thoroughly silent audience. Aside from the panties, which lay on their own, two other heaps of clothes rested on the floor beside her, a silk profusion of dress and slip, and the jumble of bra, suspender belt and stockings.
Meg, still bound tightly and knowing that it would soon be her turn, observed her friend with a heightened pride and affection, just because she was naked in front of two virtual strangers. She’s a brave young woman, Meg thought admiringly, and so lovely. Meg never tired of seeing Mignon’s lithe figure, her small neat breasts just large enough to fit the palm of one’s hand, her rounded buttocks, and the downy V between her thighs.
The other two women appeared to hold the same opinion. After a long period with no applause, no gloating, only silent admiration, Mistress Alice broke the fugue with a catch in her voice.
‘J- Joan Dear. Please conduct our Mignon to the bathroom. Allow her to choose from her bag. No bra and panties though. They are surplus to our requirements.’
*
When Joan led Mignon back into the living room fifteen minutes later, the young woman was wearing the chic silk dress that Alice had admired earlier. It was of exquisite design with a calf-length skirt, and buttoned in front. Mignon had no option but to wear it. It was the only dress left to her by Alice.
Mignon in fact had mixed feelings. She often enjoyed wearing such light dresses with no bra or panties beneath, because she liked the way the silk caressed her skin as it shifted and flowed gently over her breasts and thighs. It was a different matter however to feel her body pampered in this way while at the same time she was a helpless kidnap victim. As a prisoner, she could exercise no choice, could exert no free will over her future. That was in the hands of others.
‘Did she give you any trouble?’
‘None, Mistress Alice. Our Mignon is quite the lady. She did not touch her gag though she’s been wearing it for several hours.’
‘Hmm, that’s true. Both of you are suffering a lot by now.’
‘Mummmph!’
‘Mmm mmmph!’
‘Yes. Joan Dear, be so kind as to remove Miss Mignon’s gag, all of it. Our beautiful captives deserve some respite before enduring what is to come.’
The leather mask was unstrapped from Mignon’s face, the silk scarf was untied, and the roll of thoroughly saturated medical gauze was extracted from between her teeth. Mignon raised shaking hands to her face and tenderly massaged her cheeks and jaw back to life. She wiped a dribble of saliva from the side of her mouth.
‘Okay,’ said Cousin Alice peremptorily, ‘Rule ...’
‘One.’
Alice sighed. ‘Thank you, Joan love. Um, bind her hands now. Behind her of course. Use one of those smaller scarves she’s so conveniently packed for us.’
Mistress Joan drew Mignon’s arms behind her and tied her wrists firmly together with a short oblong of silk. She managed to get the two ends of it cinched between and tied off so that Mignon was as helpless as before but not in so much risk of pain.
‘Hmm. She looks nice with her arms behind her like that. Dear Joan, you know what to do.’
Joan the henchwoman, accomplice, co-mistress, and general factotum to Cousin Alice stood in front of Mignon and undid the buttons of her silk shirtmaker one by one. She did not stop until she had reached Mignon’s waist. Then, taking the pointed lapels of the dress top in both hands, Joan slowly drew them aside. As her hands moved apart, she let her stubby fingernails slide across the rounded tops of Mignon’s breasts down to her midriff, sending a shiver of illicit pleasure through the young woman’s body. Joan’s movements were surprisingly delicate for a woman of such sturdy Celtic inheritance. Like the curtains of a stage play, the leaves of silk parted to expose Mignon’s upper body once more to view.
‘Oh Meg, Cousin Meg,’ exclaimed Mistress Alice. ‘I am sure your eyes can never get enough of this vision ... Anyway, back to business. Joan Dear, please gag Mignon and bind her feet. No blindfold yet. She can watch. It’s Meg’s turn now.’
© Brian Sands 2003