KITTEN
by
Brian Sands
assisted by
Cordelia White
City of Industry, Sir Darcy
Chapter Five: Rebellion
Mignon sat on the sofa looking from one to the other of their captors. Joan had gagged her with two pieces of clean bed sheet taken from Mistress Alice's mysterious valise. One piece had been folded into a pad, stuffed between her lips, and then tied in place by another piece folded into a strip. The packing did not go deep into her mouth, for which she was thankful, but it served what Joan muttered in her ear as a temporary function. The gag would reduce any loud noise she might care to make, though who might hear them in that lonely place? But it discouraged speech more effectively, which was what Alice and Joan desired, Joan citing Rule One again in case Mignon had not understood.
Joan had then bound Mignon's ankles neatly together with a length of the soft cotton rope she had used before. Once again, it was a simplified version of what Mignon knew could be a much more elaborate tie-up, but it achieved its end of keeping her from making a dash for freedom.
But what impacted most of all on Mignon was to sit there all but stripped to the waist under the admiring but unsettling gaze of the two mistresses. Her discomfiture was not allowed to subside, for from time to time Joan would bend over and stroke a shoulder, or run a blunt fingernail over a nipple, or press a cluster of fingers into the inside of her thighs. They were exposed too, considering that more buttons had been unfastened on the silk shirtmaker dress. All that held the dress to her body now was the belt that remained buckled about her waist. Not even the attention of their captors on Meg saved Mignon from a stray touch from one of the two women.
Mignon watched as Meg was made to stand and face Alice. Meg's gag had been removed but her hands remained bound behind her.
'Joan Dear, please set beautiful Meg temporarily free.'
Joan stepped behind Mignon's friend and with a swift movement cut through the leather thongs that bound her wrists. Meg brought her hands to the front and massaged them ostentatiously while looking Alice straight in the eye.
'Aha. Signs of rebellion eh? You're both strong, in different ways, but we'll soon rectify that. When we've finished with you, you will be quite docile and well-behaved.'
'It's a good thing for you that my feet are still tied,' grated Meg.
By reply, Alice stepped to her carpetbag and retrieved a metal object from it. When she turned, Mignon saw that it was a gun of some sort, different in shape from the snub-nosed Browing automatic. It had a long barrel.
'This,' said Alice, flourishing the weapon, 'is a small airgun. It fires a tiny dart that penetrates the skin and injects a drug that will make your muscles go all gluey. Too much of it, and you die of asphyxiation because your diaphragm won't work. But it would need a massive dose to have that unhappy effect, and there aren't enough darts to do that. So you shan't have to worry on that score.'
'Very reassuring,' responded Meg coolly.
'Ah, but the drug will immobilise you if you try to get away, or if you resist us, and you will be completely conscious while we take our time binding you up. If you want to try it out now, just say so, and you can miss your bathroom privileges.'
'Cooperate and you can have your bathroom privileges,' interposed Joan.
'Rules ... '
'Number Two, revoked, and Number One, applied.'
'Thank you Joan, I knew I could count on you ... So what's it to be, Meg dear, rebellion with its consequences or cooperation?'
Meg shrugged and lowered her hands to her sides. 'I'll cooperate, for now.'
'Excellent. So please remove that very chic suit. The jacket first. Take it from her please Joan.'
Meg obeyed with a show of reluctance, slipping off the cream linen jacket and handing it contemptuously to Joan who walked a little way off, folded it, and placed it on a kitchen ledge.
'I'll let you choose the next item, dear Meg. But then, it hardly matters. They're all coming off in the end.'
Meg looked defiantly at Alice, and for a moment Mignon thought that she was going to refuse. But, with an exaggerated show of reluctance, Meg unzipped the narrow skirt and let it drop to her feet. She looked up at Alice.
'I can't step out of it if my feet are tied.'
Alice chuckled. 'Exactly. Just do the best you can.'
'This is the best I can do, with my ankles tied this way!'
'Oh stop beefing and just do it! The next item's easy. It's a darling silk blouse, but it hides everything of interest.'
Meg's red silk blouse just covered the tops of her thighs. She now unbuttoned it, slipped her arms out of the sleeves, and tossed it inaccurately towards Joan, making her jump to catch it. An ironic smile touched the corners of her lips.
'Oh. Another full white slip! How terribly outre you are both,' remarked Alice facetiously. 'Have we two virgins here? ... Well, that goes too. We have no tolerance for false modesty here.'
Meg let the slip of fine cotton drop to her feet to join the linen skirt.
'Well well, a half-cup bra, a tiny pair of lacy, string-sided panties, stockings and a suspender belt. How deliciously decadent to wear stockings, and how appropriately in the spirit of things, the zeitgeist of our little kidnap caper, I might say. I'm tempted to have you leave your stockings and suspender belt till last, but you can decide once more what to take off next.'
Meg hurriedly unclipped her suspenders and then reached behind her back for the hooks of the belt. She had to roll her stockings halfway down until they were below her knees before, with a little encouragement, they fluttered down her legs almost the rest of the way to be caught up with the other garments at her ankles.
'That half-cup bra's a mite risque, but it looks good on you. The under-wiring lifts your superb breasts nicely. You knew of course when you put them on that those lace cups scarcely cover them. Anyway, you know the procedure ...'
'It goes too,' replied Meg in a parody of Alice's voice.
Alice chuckled and observed with heavy irony, 'Quite so. I'm glad we have your cooperation.'
Meg reached behind her and unfastened the clasp at her back. As the bra lifted away from her full breasts, she pulled one strap over her shoulder and then the other and again tossed the article in the general direction of Joan. This time Joan was ready and intercepted the flying bra with an easy movement.
'Now this I have to see!' said Alice with a giggle. 'Down with the panties. Interesting lacy string things you have. They don't leave a lot to the imagination do they?'
Meg scowled at Alice but she had to direct her full attention to getting the panties off without falling over. As well as being minute, they were tight fitting. Gradually she peeled them down over buttocks and thighs and pushed them lower and lower towards her bound feet. Meg had to bend her knees until she was in an indecorous squatting position with her bottom sticking out and her breasts squeezed between her arms. When the panties lay around Meg's ankles, she straightened up and stood proudly, breathing a little harder and looking defiantly at Alice.
'Wonderful! I see you haven't lost your agility from university days. Joan love, you can untie Meg's feet now, but you might as well cut the panties away first. She's not going to need them again.'
Joan chuckled. 'Delighted, Mistress.'
Like a magician pulling a rabbit from his suit, Joan produced a small pair of dress-making scissors form somewhere on her person.
'Snip snip,' she spoke aloud, as first one and then the other narrow elastic side of Meg's panties was severed, her vocalisation adding drama to the act.
'Very neat, Joan Darling,' said Alice, applauding softly. 'Now, Meg dear. Joan has to take those clothes and dispose of them, so jump please, a nice bunny-hop for us.'
Looking daggers at Alice, Meg bent her knees slightly and hopped to one side. She cleared the bunched skirt and slip and, when she landed, her full breasts followed a fraction of a second later in an almost slow motion bounce. But the nylons, prevented from slipping off by the ropes, remained twisted around her legs. Alice chuckled and signalled to Joan who knelt down and untied the knots that bound Meg's ankles.
When Joan had finished, Alice addressed Meg who was standing insouciantly in front of her with her arms by her side, apparently unconcerned about her nakedness.
'Ha. I expected your breasts to bounce, in your case rather a lot. You and pretty Mignon will have to get used to events like that. Now, do another bunny-hop for me!'
Meg folded her arms obstinately across her large breasts and stood firm.
'No, no, no. Shall I declare a rule, Joan, that they must never cover their breasts?'
Joan whipped out a note pad and pencil from the voluminous folds of the strange habit she was wearing and hovered, poised to write.
'Not now, not now! I know that you, of all people, will remember. No, take a piece of cord and tie her hands behind her back.'
Joan leapt to her task with alacrity. Mignon watched while Meg's arms were tied tightly behind her at the wrists.
'Now, little bunny,' said Alice, 'Jump.'
Gritting her teeth at Alice, Meg hopped from one side to the other on stiffened legs, her breasts at first defying gravity only to reach their zenith and succumb to the earth's pull a moment after her feet reconnected with the carpet. Meg carried it off with an aplomb that would have left Mignon speechless, had she not been already in that condition.
'Just as I thought. They bounce even better with your arms tied behind you. I must say you are a cool one though. It's a bluff, and you're carrying it off well. But you won't be so sanguine after we've gone through the contents of your valise. Joan dear, please fetch it, but untie Meg first. And, dear Meg, no little tricks now. Remember that I have the gun.'
Joan disappeared into one of the rooms. The bedroom on the ground floor, off this living room, noted Mignon, storing the knowledge in the back of her mind for future use.
While Joan was out of the room, Alice sat back in a chair and rested the hand that held the air pistol on her knee, with the barrel pointing at Meg.
'Remember company policy. Only underwear allowed. All outer clothing, no matter how stylish, to be burned. Well, there may be a few exceptions, the most stylish clothes perhaps. But there's no guarantee.
Joan returned carrying Meg's suitcase, set it down on the floor next to Joan, and flung it open.
Alice turned to the valise. 'And no flat shoes,' she added. 'Hmmm.'
'I don't think she has any flat shoes,' said Joan as she rummaged through Meg's case. There was a faint hint of disappointment in her voice.
'Perhaps not, but she has plenty of outer clothing, unnecessary dresses, skirts and tops. Do be a good hench-person and take them away for burning with the other things they arrived in.'
Joan gathered up Meg's linen suit, the lingerie remnants, and Mignon's dress and carried them away. When she returned, Alice was on her feet again.
'Now, Joan, take this prisoner for her bathroom privileges. She can choose an item of clothing from what's left in the valise.'
Joan started to speak, but Alice interrupted her.
'And don't quote that rule at me again! ... Wait, Joan!'
Joan, valise in one hand and the naked Meg's arm gripped firmly in the other hand, paused at the door.
'Do you think you'll need this?' asked Alice, hefting the air pistol in her hand.
'Nope. I can handle her easily.'
She could too, thought Mignon, who had felt intimidated by the woman's robust strength when it was her turn in the shower. Meg was taller and stronger than Mignon, but the young woman told herself that strength was a very relative matter. She doubted whether even Meg could win a direct physical confrontation with Joan.
*
When Joan and Meg had disappeared into the bedroom with the en suite, Alice put away the pistol in her bag and walked into the kitchen.
'I'm preparing a little drink for Joan and myself. Would you care for one as well, pretty Mignon?'
Mignon was about to refuse with a shake of her head when she remembered one of the pieces of advice from the SAS Urban Survival Handbook that she and Meg studied over Christmas. One important rule was to cooperate with one's captors.
'Mmmph.' She nodded emphatically.
Alice walked across and pulled the cloth from Mignon's lips. The young woman expelled the gag.
'Yes, thank you,' she added for emphasis.
Registering approval by the set of her shoulders, Alice began to decant ice from a tray into a bowl.
'What'll it be, Sweetie?'
'Could I have a lime and bitters please?'
'Righto. Coming up. Here ...'
Alice crossed to where Mignon was sitting and held the tall glass to her lips. She waited patiently until Mignon had swallowed about a quarter of the liquid. It refreshed Mignon's palate and helped take away the stale taste that still lingered from her gag.
Returning to the kitchen, Alice finished preparing two more drinks, a brandy and dry and a gin and tonic. With one in her hand, she walked back to Mignon and held the lime and bitters to her mouth once more. Mignon could hear movement from the adjoining room and knew that the refreshment break was soon to end, so this time she took a deep draught, nearly emptying the glass.
'Good girl. I think you'll be easier to train on the whole than your uppity friend.'
I think you're wrong, but Mignon kept the thought to herself.
The door opened and Meg entered with Joan close behind her, suitcase in hand. Alice stood completely still.
'What's this? Joan, did you allow this flagrant flouting of rule ...?'
'Seven.'
'Thank you Joan, which is ...?'
'Underclothes only allowed, if any, and, if we choose there to be a minimum of outer garments, no underclothes.'
'Now,' said Alice heavily and with menace, 'I can see lace under that white blouse you're wearing with that navy skirt - clearly a business suit - an clearly in contravention of the rules. How do you explain that, Joan?'
'She dressed in the bathroom,' replied Joan plaintively.
'Yes,' drawled Meg, 'It was a fait accompli when "dear" Joan saw it. Don't be too hard on your minion will you?'
'Not at all. Joan dear, hold her!'
Before Meg could do anything, Joan had her arms dragged roughly behind her back. At the same time, Alice dived for the carpetbag and came up with the airgun.
'I'll show you, you ... recalcitrant rabbit!'
There was a soft 'phut' and Meg flinched her head away.
'It works quickly,' purred Alice. 'Just about now ...'
Meg's knees gave way and she sagged into Joan's arms. Alice's hench-woman lowered her charge gently to the floor and rolled her into the coma position on her side.
'Remove the dart from her neck, Joan. Be careful not to prick your finger on it.'
Joan obeyed, carrying the tiny object to Alice in a cupped hand as one would a dead bee that had still to be reckoned with. Alice took it with equal care and placed it in a small folding case. She looked up.
'Put the gag back in young Mignon's mouth. Vicarious punishment,' she added as Joan approached Mignon. 'Meg dear, you can hear all this although you are paralysed. Another rule is ...'
'Rule Eight.'
'Ohh. Yes, Joan. If one of you becomes difficult, the other will be made to suffer. Make the gag tighter than it was before, double the amount of packing, and push it well into her mouth.'
Mignon accepted Joan's firm, hard fingers as her jaws were squeezed open and the roll of bed sheet was pressed between her lips. A second followed, a little smaller in bulk than the first. Joan worked it in past Mignon's teeth to fill the front of her mouth. The cloth strip was taken up and a knot tied in its centre. Joan then rolled the knot over Mignon's lower teeth and pressed it deeply into her mouth against the packing. The ends of the holding gag were drawn back behind Mignon's neck, pinching over her hair, and jerked viciously tight. Mignon retched and tried to pull away. Joan allowed her to fall back into the sofa where Mignon lay, fighting the gagging reflex and breathing hard.
'Sorry to do this to you, Honey,' said Alice, but rules are rules. Now, let's teach our rebellious captive a lesson she won't forget in a hurry. Remember, little Mignon, though your friend can't move she can hear everything we say, feel everything we do to her, and even see a little though vision will be blurred.'
Gradually, Mignon had her breathing under control. She lay on her side and watched Alice's next moves through a flood of tears.
'A girl in my business can never be over supplied,' Alice chuckled. 'You're now going to see some of the goodies I have in this bag.'
Alice knelt at the carpetbag and lifted out something made of supple brown leather festooned with a mass of straps. She placed it carefully onto a small coffee table, then reached out a second identical item. This one she held up.
'Like it?' she asked, as if genuinely concerned about the opinions of her two gagged prisoners. 'It's an arm binder, very simple to use. Your arms go in here, and it laces up so that your fingers and hands are trapped and your elbows meet behind you.'
She knelt beside Meg and held the binder in front of her face.
'I do hope you are supple, dear. You'll need to be.'
Alice continued her presentation. 'These straps go round your shoulders to stop it slipping. This one goes around your waist to hold your arms against your body. And this one goes up between your legs so keep your finger-tips tight against your buttocks. Once on, it's virtually impossible to get it off. It's a little like a straight-jacket but with certain advantages, such as allowing your torso to be open and vulnerable. You shan't be able to do anything with your hands.'
'Who shall we get ready first?' Joan asked.
'Obviously the one who's given us the most trouble so far.'
Without waiting to be asked, Joan began to arrange Meg on her face, turning her head to one side so that she could breathe, straightening her legs, and drawing her arms up behind her.
Alice went on.
'It's late dears, well past your bedtime. I'm going to have you sharing the tiny, two-foot six cot tonight. You will be completely helpless. There's no way that you can untie each other with your arms encased in this little toy.'
'They need to be gagged too,' added Joan, 'That's Rule Nine ...'
'I know, I know. Night-time gags so that they don't choke or stifle during those long hours. I think I have just the thing.'
As Alice rummaged around in her carpetbag, Mignon lay still, paralysed with fear and with the only certain knowledge that their ordeal was just beginning.