KITTEN

by

Brian Sands

assisted by

Cordelia White

Chapter Seven: Familiar Bedfellows

As Joan carefully re-arranged Meg on the narrow bed to make room for her, Mignon wondered when the effects of the drug would wear off on her friend. It was frightening enough to be bound and gagged, especially as she was now, but it must be doubly terrifying to have no control over one's muscles at all, and at the same time to feel the restriction of the bonds about her body and the gag in her mouth. As she was gently propelled into making three light bunny hops to the edge of the bed, Mignon's heart went out to Meg whose plight was worse than her own.

'Here we are, dear, beddy-byes,' crooned Alice gently. Hold young Mignon steady, Joan, while I add the, aha, finishing touch.'

The finishing touch was the long strap that depended from the end of the arm sheath. Its point was now tucked with some difficulty between Mignon's thighs. When at last the strap poked out the other side just below the V forest of fine dark hair, Alice drew it gently all the way through until Mignon's encased wrists were wedged tight into her buttocks. She began to blush furiously.

Gently still, but with no-nonsense firmness, Alice then eased the strap deep between Mignon's soft lips and continued up over her pubic mound to couple with the fittings of the strap around her waist. She tightened it until there was very little slack. The result was to make the young woman stand straighter than before, it that was possible. In fact, the constrictions all around her in so many ways tended to arch her body: the trussing of her arms to her back, the stretching of her shoulders and breasts by the arm sheath, and the disconcerting leather strap between her legs.

Between them, Joan and Alice lifted Mignon and laid her on the narrow bed beside Meg. As Joan straightened Meg's knees to make way for them both on the bed, Mignon saw that the leather strap to her friend's arm sheath had also been drawn between her thighs and buckled into place on the waist strap. Meg's crotch strap looked even tighter than the one Mignon was forced to wear. Mignon shuddered. It looked as thought it would cut Meg in two. Additional straps were produced and, while Alice rolled Mignon onto her side facing Meg, Joan began to lace the two helpless women together.

She started at their legs, securing them just above their bound ankles, then around their thighs - there was just room enough for the straps to go between the fastenings already there - and continuing upwards. The straps were broad and made of a harder, less resilient leather. In a surprisingly short time, Mignon found herself lying face to face with Meg, their thighs and breasts crushed together by broad straps buckled around their waists and upper arms and bodies. Mignon could turn her head, which she did, looking up at their two captors imploringly.

Alice smiled down at her. 'I think you will both find this a very definite bonding experience. You can't get out of those restraints but we've allowed sufficient slack for you to wriggle about to your heart's content, although "heart" is not the right part of your anatomy that is involved, strictly speaking. We'll leave you now. I see that dear Meg is showing signs of the drug wearing off.'

Mignon could feel her friend beginning to stir a little. The slight movement rubbed their lower bodies together, and Mignon felt her nipples begin to harden and come erect as Meg's breasts brushed across them. She tied to remonstrate but all the sound she could make was a faint, strangled 'gkk.'

'Neither of you can speak, far less call for help. You might succeed in working out a conversation of coded grunts between you, but you can't speak so you are unable to make any pre-arranged agreement as to what the sounds will mean. I suggest that after you have struggled for awhile, you should try to settle down and get a few hours' sleep.'

'Yes,' added Joan, 'A combination of Rules One, Nine and Ten, to wit ...'

'Oh dear yes, Joan Darling. Not tonight. It's late and I have a headache. Later you may enumerate the Rules to our two prisoners. I nearly said later next morning, but it's morning now, almost sunrise. Come Joan Dear.'

Alice linked arms with her factotum and together they walked to the door. Mignon raised her head and stretched her neck in an effort to follow their departure, trying with no result to call after them.

Alice turned at the door, Joan in train with her movement.

'We shall inspect you both at midday, by which time I trust that you will be well refreshed. You have a long day ahead of you. A little training first in the afternoon ...'

'The Rules ...'

'Yes,' said Alice with a sigh, 'The Rules. Then we will begin, erhm, persuading you to sign certain legal papers. Oh yes,' she added when Mignon began to shake her head as emphatically as she could with her neck bent back at the uncomfortable angle, 'You will sign over your accounts or the consequences will be dire, I assure you.'

With those words, Alice swept from the room pulling Joan with her. The latter was about to say something, probably more about her precious rules thought Mignon bitterly. The door closed and Mignon heard a key turn in the lock. That last touch made her feel completely hopeless. She was bound and gagged so tightly that she could scarcely move or make a sound, and they had to lock the door as well!

Mignon looked into Meg's face, her eyes wide with concern, whereupon Meg opened her eyes, looked directly back into those of Mignon, and gave her a long slow wink.

'Ngkk!' Mignon exclaimed.

'Mmm hmm?' replied Meg, raising her eyebrows.

Is she asking me whether I'm all right? thought Mignon. She attempted a reply in the affirmative.

'Mm hm,' nodding her head.

Meg sighed with relief and wriggled her body. Mignon realised that her friend must have been free of the drug for some time but that she was playing possum for Alice and Joan's benefit.

Meg began to stretch and strain her body in the mesh of leather straps that imprisoned them both. Mignon felt her friend's muscular strength - she had always lost to Meg in playful struggles that usually ended with her being bound and gagged - but the bonds held and she felt Meg's body deflate as she gave up her struggles with a sigh. Then Meg looked her straight in the eyes again and very slowly and deliberately began to wriggle her pudenda against Mignon's.

Mignon's eyes opened wider. She could not remonstrate, for two reasons. One was that she had a very silencing gag in her mouth. The other reason was that she was enjoying it. When their breasts and nipples brushed, collided, and pressed against one another, a shiver of pleasure coursed through Mignon's body.

The different manuals say that there is a direct link between a woman's breasts and her clitoris. Whether this was true for women in general, Mignon could not guess. But she knew that with her body penetrated by the soft and relatively wide leather strap between her legs - tight but not so tight as to prevent the strap from sliding backwards and forwards with every motion of her body - she was losing all control. The shattering orgasm that following became prolonged because there was no means of withdrawal. The bonds continued to restrict their bodies - and that was excitement in itself - the leather straps continued to tease their clitorises. When at last both beautiful women ceased their movements it was due to real physical exhaustion. They were no strangers to the pleasures of love, but in Mignon's case being completely unable to do anything about it because of her bonds and her gag paradoxically gave her a feeling of freedom. Or abandon perhaps, she thought to correct herself. I'm not free. I can't do anything about this. But it's sure something I don't have any problem over enduring!

Meg nuzzled Mignon's gagged face with her own. Mignon nodded sleepily and returned the carress, bound face to bound face. Their bodies drenched with sweat, Meg and Mignon fell into a deep and paradoxically untroubled sleep.

Mignon was roused to wakefulness by a hand shaking her shoulder.

'Wakey wakey, sweetheart. It's nearly midday. Time for the next scenario.' It was Alice's voice.

Mignon opened her eyes and looked wonderingly around her. At first she did not remember where she was. And then the realisation that she was a prisoner struck at her and she lifted her head, startled to full wakefulness. Alice was standing at her bedside. Joan leaned nonchalantly at the door. Mignon raised her hands to her face. Her mouth was free; the horrible gag had been removed. And then she realised for the first time that her hands were free. She was unbound.

Sitting up in the bed, she blinked up at her captors.

'Wh- What's ...'

'There's nothing to concern your pretty head over, sweetie.' Alice tossed a handful of silky underthings that Mignon caught by reflex. 'It's time for your bathroom privileges.'

'Rule ...'

'Yes, Joan dear. In case you had forgotten, Mignon my sweet, you are our prisoner and shall remain so until, as I said once before, we either sell you or I keep you for myself. On the one hand, there's a rich Scottish potentate with eyes on you. Well, with eyes on your photograph. Fancy a sojourn in the heather with those lovely wide horned shaggy cattle? No? Then there is the other quite diverting alternative that Joan will induct you into, under my tutelage. Ever read L'Histoire D'O?'

'The History of Water?' Mignon asked innocently.

'Oh very droll. I'm glad you have a sense of humour after all you've been through.'

Mignon thought back to what she and Meg had been through earlier that morning. It gave her a warm feeling and she smiled inwardly.

'Now, my dear, Meg will be out of the shower any moment, then it's your turn. When you come out, you are required to wear those, echt, garments. Temporarily of course. Ah, here's Meg now. Off you go!'

Mignon looked up. Meg had emerged from the bathroom, vigorously towelling her glossy dark hair. She was naked except for a miniscule pair of lace string panties and a half-cup bra with lace highlights. Both bra and panties were snowy white and extremely brief. The underwire of the bra raised Meg's ample breasts high on her torso. The front triangle of her panties was scarcely bigger than the matching triangle of dark pubic hair, so that it failed in its design as a cache sexe.

'Here, don't forget these.' Alice picked up the small handful of lingerie that Mignon had placed beside her on the bed, and thrust it into Mignon's hands. The young woman saw at a glance that the silky undergarments were every bit as skimpy as those Meg was wearing, with the difference perhaps that they were more brief, hence more revealing. Her cheeks glowed.

'Now hurry, dear,' ordered Alice. 'If you take too long you will be punished. Joan and I have plans for you and not a lot of patience.'

'Rule ...'

'I know, I know. But not now Joan dear until our two lovely prisoners are secured again.'

As Mignon brushed past Meg on her way to the bathroom, she received a subtle wink from her friend.

The hot water was balm to her aching muscles, but she remembered Alice's threat and, knowing from experience that it was not an empty one, she showered, towelled herself dry and changed into her new finery in record time. As Mignon brushed out her honey-gold hair in front of the mirror, she studied the contrast of the glossy black satin bra and panties against her glowing skin. She had worn that pair before - they were hers, miraculously saved from Joan's incendiary plans - but under the new and strange circumstances it was as though she was seeing them for the first time. She had only bought them a week before, a matching pair in black satin. The bra was a half-cup and the panties were skimpy and string-sided like the pair Meg was wearing. Apart from the comfortable uplift from the bra and somewhat vague protection offered by the panties, it was as though she was wearing no clothes at all.

When Mignon re-entered the room, Alice and Joan were putting the finishing touches to Meg's gag, tying the knot at the base of her hair. Mignon recognised with a shock that it was one of a pair of stockings bandaged tightly over her friend's mouth. Her first reaction was to think that the nylon material would easily slip from Meg's face. But then she noticed how her cheeks bulged slightly and understood that the bulge caused by the gag packed in her friend's mouth served to anchor the covering bandage, which in its turn compacted the gag.

Mignon gasped as her eyes travelled down Meg's body and she saw how she was tied this time. It was not that she did not expect Meg to be bound by now. She had been free, and Rule Whatever declared that if she was free she would be speedily bound and gagged. It was the stringency of the tie that astonished her. Meg's arms were behind her, her shoulders pulled back unnaturally. And she appeared to be tied with stockings. One was roped around her chest above and another below her breasts, and yet another was around her waist. Each turn of nylon was embedded in Meg's flesh. Her legs were bound just as stringently. There were stockings turned twice around them at upper thigh, mid thigh, and lower thigh just above the knees, as well as hobbles on her ankles.

But what drew Mignon's eyes most was the tight stocking rope travelling upwards from the apex of Meg's legs to her navel. It repeated the path of the leather straps they had both worn earlier, but it seemed to be applied much tighter. Mignon thought with uneasy relief that at least the panties would afford some protection. She hoped so, for she knew that in a very short time this was also to be her fate.

'Wha ...?'

'Why are her shoulders pulled back so far and why is her chest thrust out?' said Alice, finishing Mignon's question for her. 'Well, it's because her elbows are tied together.'

It had not been the question on the tip of Mignon's tongue, but the reply imposed a different thought on her. Oh no, she thought. Now it will be my turn!

'Rule Fourteen,' Joan intoned. 'When your arms are tied behind your backs in the normal way, that is, by your wrists, your elbows will always be tied together.'

'Wh - Whatever happened to rules twelve and thirteen?' asked Mignon, surprising herself that she remembered.

'Erhm ...' began Joan.

'Later, Joan dear, later,' Alice interrupted. 'You see,' she continued, addressing both Meg and Mignon, 'No matter how supple in body you are, you won't be able to escape an elbow tie. I don't think Meg is quite as supple as she might be, although with you my dear,' she approached Mignon with a stocking ready in her hands and, Mignon saw, several draped over her shoulders, 'we shall have to take special precautions.'

In the background, Joan gave Meg a gentle shove towards the bed. As her own arms were drawn back behind her, Mignon watched her friend hobble towards her destination, permitted only small, painful steps by her leg bonds. The hobbles at Meg's ankles seemed scarcely to matter, and the last couple of feet were covered in bunny hops until she fell onto the bed with a faint grunt. Joan took Meg by the feet and tipped her over so that she lay fully on the bed on her side.

'Erhm ...'

'Yes dear?' asked Alice as she bound Mignon's wrists in a tight crisscross that used all the length of the stocking. The stretchy material was fastened in multiple knots with each turn so that Mignon guessed that it would have to be cut when it was time for her to be freed again for another brief bathroom privilege.

'Rule Twelve,' Joan began, and this time Alice did not interrupt her. 'Rule Twelve says that one of you has to remain gagged when the mouth of the other is free. You cannot both be left ungagged. And Rule Thirteen, at meal times ...'

'That's fine, Joan dear. Let's keep that one as a surprise.'

Mignon was now standing straight and slightly arched as she had been when imprisoned in the arm sheath. She could not believe it, but her elbows were touching, the nylon sunk deep into the soft flesh of her upper arms. She uttered a small cry of pain as the final knot was tied.

'Uh huh, we'll soon remedy that tendency for noise,' gritted Alice under her breath. Joan Darling, hold her steady for me, she's beginning to struggle ... That's right. Don't fight it dear. You should know by now there's nothing you can do about the gag.'

Mignon stood straight and still as Alice packed several stockings into her mouth. One stocking was folded to half its length and a knot tied in the middle. It was then pressed between her teeth, the knot between her teeth, and tied very tight behind her head. Then a nylon bandage was secured just as tightly over Mignon's face from nose to chin, but leaving her nostrils free to dilate in their quest for air.

Quickly and efficiently, Alice and Joan trussed Mignon up in the same way that Meg was bound. Mignon flinched as the nylon tie was passed between the groove of her panties and secured at her waist. Soon she was lying on her beck across the bed beside Meg, her arms in agony from the stockings that bound them and from the weight of her body. Joan left the room on some unspoken errand.

Alice paced up and down the room, her arms crossed over her chest, pausing every so often to glance out the window. Mignon looked at Meg who, although she too was obviously suffering acute pain from her bonds, had sufficient energy to nuzzle her cheek encouragingly against hers.

At last Alice stopped pacing, turned, and spoke to the two captives.

'Come over here. There's something I want you to see.'

Understanding what was required, Mignon and Meg struggled upright and managed to get to their feet where they stood unsteadily, looking inquiringly at Alice.

'Oh, don't be silly,' Alice chided. 'Hop, little bunnies!' She indicated the window.

Meg and Mignon alternately shuffled and hopped to the window on their bound ankles, their breasts bobbing up and down in the half-cup bras.

When at last they could peer though the meticulously clean glass into the small garden area, they saw Joan poking a large bonfire with a length of branch. Joan saw them, smiled, and waved.

'There,' Alice explained. 'Company policy again. I always have to remind you, don't I? We burn all your garments, no matter how stylish they are, except for the ones that we bind you in, or bind you with.'

Somewhere in there is my lovely dress, thought Mignon despondently. But she was becoming preoccupied with other worries. For her arms were not only in agony, they were on fire. Her fingers tingled. The stringent bonds cut off circulation and she was becoming very frightened for her safety and that of her friend.