story continues from part five
Chapter 6
Jasmine rolled over on the bed and peered through the gloom at the bedside clock. The green digital display announced that it was 6:23 am. It would, she knew, be another hour or so yet before it was light enough to see clearly. This meant that it would be at least that long before she could begin looking for the key to the handcuffs. And without that tiny piece of uniquely shaped metal, she was stuck here. This circumstance was of no concern to her, however. It had been five and a half hours since the clicking ratchets had informed her that she would not be able to slip her hands free from the manacles, so another hour wouldn’t be any great hardship. In fact, she relished the prospect of spending a further sixty minutes or so in her self-induced state of bondage.
****
Once she’d dropped Amber off and then driven home last night, Jasmine had found it impossible to sleep; her head swirling with the implications surrounding the train of events that she and her cousin had set in motion. Would they pull this stunt off and end up profiting handsomely from their underhand, not to mention illegal, venture? And what happened at the end of all this deviousness? Would it really work out alright, with no retribution from Lauren for the way they’d treated her? The questions kept piling up one on top of the other, so much so that Jasmine knew that she needed some outlet to calm herself down and help her relax. Alcohol would have been one such avenue to oblivion, but she knew that she needed to keep a clear head for tomorrow morning, and that giving herself a hangover simply wasn’t an option tonight. She did, of course, have an alternative; an ideal remedy for her stressed out state.
As was habitual for Jasmine and her sister when faced with fraught situations or unfathomable conundrums, she turned to her favourite hobby; bondage. And as Jade was indisposed at present, this particular episode would, of necessity, have to be a solo effort.
As with everything the twins did, Jasmine made certain that her self -bondage was well and truly escape proof… until, that is, daylight allowed her the luxury of sight. Firstly, she’d bound her legs with soft white rope in three places, at the ankles, just below and just above the knees, so that locomotion around the darkened room was not an option. Next she gagged herself; not necessary from a practical point of view, but desirable - essential in fact - if the right ambience was to be achieved. For this process she used her own tried and tested method, namely a rolled up pair of tights crammed into the cavity behind her teeth, which she then sealed in place with several circuits of duct tape around her head. Smoothing this down, she tried to force the ball of hosiery out of her mouth with her tongue, but was pleased to discover that the tape held firm. She was now almost ready to complete her bondage.
Turning off the bedside light, Jasmine rolled onto her stomach and bent her tethered legs up behind her, until her hands touched her toes. Fumbling around on the mattress beside her, she located the handcuffs - cold and uninviting in their present state, yet enticing from the prospect of the transformation that they would soon bring into play. Taking the key from the keyhole, Jasmine flung this across the room into the blackness; a light thud of metal on carpet offering little clue as to where, exactly, it might have landed. But the answer to that puzzle could wait until daybreak.
The next task would have proved a tricky operation to one not so accomplished in such matters, but as a veteran of such manoeuvres, Jasmine completed the act in no more than five seconds; quickly and efficiently looping the connecting chain of the cuffs around her tightly secured ankle bond, before closing first the left, then the right bracelet down around her correctly positioned wrists, until the metal pressed snugly against her skin. The slowly clicking ratchets caused a shiver of delight to shoot up her spine, as the realisation that she was now trapped and couldn’t get out without retrieving the key hit home.
Now hog-cuffed, gagged and in total darkness, Jasmine revelled in her new found status as a helpless captive. And every movement she made - every twist of her wrists, stretch of her legs, or shift in her body position - reinforced in her mind the hopeless nature of her plight, and caused wave after fabulous wave of pleasure to surge up her spine, and bolts of intense lightning to course through her entire being. Through the gag, her purred sounds of delight were interspersed with long drawn out moans of ecstasy, and by rubbing her intimate regions forcefully against the mattress, she found the spandex between her legs becoming warm and damp, and within no more than a minute of two of completing her bondage, her orgasm exploded within her, rocketing her body as high above the bed as her shackled and bound state would allow. She envisioned Jade and Lauren in their lonely prison cells, and wondered if they were getting off on their present states of captivity. And if that was the case, why should they be allowed to have all the fun?
With her energies temporarily spent, Jasmine rested after her vigorous exertions, and within no more than five minutes had fallen into blissfully peaceful slumbers.
****
Finally, the dim wintry light that peeped in reluctantly through the gaps in the curtains began to reveal details of the room that had been a sea of dense blackness only minutes earlier. The clock showed that it was now 7:39 am. Jasmine sighed sadly. She could quite happily have stayed this way for another few hours yet, such was her contentment and comfort with her bondage. But she knew that in less than an hour Amber would be turning up again, ready and eager to start on the next phase of their master-plan. Jasmine, too, was keen to see her cousin again, although her main focus was negotiating a release for her sister, now that the primary objective of capturing Lauren had been successfully achieved.
For several seconds Jasmine’s eyes scoured the view before her, desperately trying to make out the glint of metal against the background of the dark green patterned carpet that covered the floor of her bedroom. Although day had now dawned, the early light, coupled with the screening properties of the curtains, made locating anything in the still twilight-tinged room a major trial. What if she couldn’t find the key? Although she knew that Amber would be here soon, the notion of being discovered by a cousin she still didn’t fully trust held no appeal for her. For if Amber chanced upon her in a state of self-bondage, Jasmine was almost certain that it would be unlikely that she would release her immediately, without at least having a little fun at her expense. Or maybe even – the thought didn’t even bear thinking about - something more sinister than that.
Jasmine squinted with greater effort into the gloom, and within a minute or so, her eyes became more accustomed to the lighting conditions, and she was able to visually locate the item she sought, nestling close to the door in the shadow of her dressing table. Slipping her legs over the side of the bed, knees first, she tried to lower herself, slowly and gently, to the floor. This proved a far harder manoeuvre than it had at first appeared, and her legs hit the floor with a dull thud that not only made the whole house reverberate for a second or two, but also caused a yelp of pain to issue through her gag, as the velocity of the impact jarred her bones.
The momentum also caused her to topple backwards as the floor was reached, and within no more than a second, the room seemed to spin rapidly and she found herself in a face down heap on the carpet. Disorientated for a few moments, Jasmine soon recovered her bearings and once more made eye contact with the key; now clearly standing out as a small sliver of silver coloured metal against the dark green pile of the carpet, approximately ten feet from her prone position.
Dragging her severely restrained body and limbs the short distance towards her prize took longer than expected, and a great deal of effort and energy ended up being expended in the process. Breathing heavily into her gag, Jasmine shifted herself into position so that her fingers could grasp then manipulate the key into the waiting lock. This took two or three minutes, and several unsuccessful attempts, before the correct angle and the right amount of pressure finally allowed the key to turn the necessary ninety degrees in order to release the internal workings of the mechanism, and the curved metal arm to fall away from her reddened flesh. Thereafter, it was a relatively easy operation to release her other hand, then relinquish her rope bonds.
Standing on limbs that had become stiff and sore after so long in the hog-tie was an agonising experience, but Jasmine had a lot to do if she was to be ready for Amber’s arrival, and therefore urged herself through the pain barrier as she went about her tasks. And after a few minutes, the stiffness in her limbs began to subside, as the blood began to flow naturally again, and her muscles grew accustomed once more to everyday movement.
Time flew, and before she knew it, Jasmine heard the sound of a car engine approaching the isolated building. She knew that this had to be Amber, but even so, stole a peep out of the window to make certain. Sure enough, there was her tall, blonde cousin getting out of her car and teetering on high heels across the uneven courtyard. Despite the cold of the morning, Amber wore no coat, seemingly warm enough in the tight latex cat-suit that clung to every square inch of her frame from neck to ankles. Strolling nonchalantly up to the door, she entered without knocking or ringing the bell, as if she owned the place.
Jasmine hurried downstairs, still smoothing out the wrinkles from her hastily donned clean spandex cat-suit. When she arrived in the hallway, Amber was waiting for her, a beaming smile etched on her face. Supposed to convey an air of friendliness, Jasmine never quite trusted these smiles from her cousin, finding them a shade disconcerting. In truth, she thought her cousin’s facial greetings, whilst good natured on the surface, always hid a more sinister agenda that betrayed an air of deviousness, deception, malice and, quite frankly, downright evil intent. Despite these misgivings, Jasmine managed to greet her cousin warmly, knowing that it was in her best interests - and indeed also those of her sister – to keep on the right side of Amber... for the time being at any rate.
Jasmine had expected Amber to be in a hurry to get back to the old prison, but instead found her relative in what seemed a more relaxed mood than had been the case in recent days. To Jasmine’s enquiry as to whether she was ready to go, Amber was dismissive and instead headed towards the kitchen.
“All in good time Jasmine. There’s really no rush now that Lauren is all trussed up and trapped. I’ve just posted the ransom note and footage to Steve, so we’ll just have to wait for the vagaries of Royal Mail’s delivery service to see how long it takes to reach him, then how long it takes him to get his act together and come up with the readies. Let’s not rush this morning. How about a cup of tea before we set off to see how our prisoners are faring?”
Jasmine moved across to the sink and began to fill the kettle. As she did so, she glanced to her left and noticed Amber opening the fridge to retrieve the milk. This struck Jasmine as slightly out of character, as her cousin never usually lifted a finger to help anyone; expecting someone else to perform all such menial tasks... unless it was in her interests to do otherwise. But although Amber’s willingness to help out seemed a little bit odd, Jasmine quickly shrugged off the notion that there was anything sinister inherent in these actions. Even when Amber took two mugs from the shelf and set them on the kitchen table, Jasmine still failed to heed the warning signs that her wayward relative was up to something untoward. It was an omission that she would soon come to regret.
With the kettle now boiled, Jasmine filled the teapot and walked across to the table, where Amber had by now sat herself down on one of the high backed wooden chairs. As she set the steaming brew down, she noticed that Amber had already poured milk into the cups – a pet hate for Jasmine, as she always considered that the milk should be put in after the tea was in the cup. But still the fact that Amber was doing basic tasks that she would normally feel were beneath her, didn’t fully register with Jasmine as in any way ominous. Even when, after pouring the tea into the two mugs, Amber seemed more than usually keen for Jasmine to drink, she didn’t twig that maybe there was some ulterior motive for her actions.
The first inkling that something was amiss came when, after maybe three or four sips of the hot liquid, Jasmine noticed that the tea had a strange, somewhat bitter aftertaste to it. At first she put this down to a lack of experience in the art of tea making on Amber’s part, with regard to the milk-in-first issue. But as the seconds passed, Jasmine found that the flavour was not the only unusual thing impinging on her senses. Her eyesight, it seemed now, was beginning to waver, as if she were slightly drunk. She tried to focus on the cup in front of her, but both this, and the table on which it stood, appeared to not only be moving from side to side, but the outline of these objects also seemed to be blurring.
She raised her eyes to look across the table at Amber, and although this brought about an increase in the swimming nature of the images before her, it was clear to her that her devious cousin was smiling that smile which she’d encountered so often in the past; the grin that conveyed the information that Amber was the cause of Jasmine’s sudden loss of visual coordination. And it was at this point that Jasmine realised that she had to do something about the situation before it was too late.
Jasmine gazed past her still relaxed, seated cousin, towards the door that led into the hallway. She knew that she had to get through that exit at all costs. The trouble was that when she tried to stand, she immediately discovered that it wasn’t merely her sight that had succumbed to whatever drug Amber had administered to her beverage. Putting her hands onto the table top, she tried to raise herself off the chair, simultaneously pushing upwards with her legs. To her great dismay, she found that the muscles in her limbs were now seemingly weighted down, and that movement of any kind was, if not totally impossible, then at least extremely tiring and energy sapping.
Such was her determination not to fall prey to Amber’s evil machinations, however, that somehow Jasmine forced herself onto her feet and tried to make a beeline for the door. Unfortunately for her, not only did the location of the exit seem to shift its position with increasing regularity, but she found that the normally simple task of walking had become almost unviable, as her legs refused to respond to the commands that her increasingly befuddled brain were sending them. The mental fog that was descending on her at a rate of knots, however, didn’t stop her registering the fact that Amber still sat calmly at the table, that smug look of triumph etched on her face. Jasmine staggered onwards, although her destination had now seemingly dissolved into the hazy background. With more effort than should have been the case, she opened her mouth and tried to quiz Amber on exactly what had just happened.
“What... have you... done to me?”
As she spoke, she watched Amber, as if in slow motion, stand up and move towards her. It was just as well that her cousin chose this particular moment to act, for it was at this point that Jasmine’s legs finally buckled under her and she felt herself falling forward as the spinning floor came up to meet her. Luckily Amber appeared to have foreseen this eventuality, and was on hand to stop her collapsing onto the wooden tiled surface. So instead of a descent onto the hard floor, she felt a pair of hands grab her around the waist and hoist her back up into a vertical position. But the powerful medication that Amber had spiked the tea with had by now taken control of both her body and her mind, and the last thing she recalled before oblivion claimed her, was the face of her despised relative grinning from ear to ear only inches from her face.
“Go to sleep now Jasmine. When you wake up I’ve got a little surprise for you. “
****
The slow drip, drip, drip of water on stone was the first thing that imposed itself on Jasmine’s awareness as she slowly came out of her chemically induced stupor. There was a chill in the air, and a dampness that she recognised from somewhere but couldn’t quite place. There was another sound also, irregular and faint, of what sounded like someone breathing through their nose with difficulty, which was interspersed every few seconds by a louder grunting sound, as if this person was straining hard to achieve some unattainable goal. All was dark around her. In fact, the blackness had an unnaturalness to it that suggested that her eyes were obscured in some way; a notion that, as she regained her wits, she recognised as a tightly fitting layer of what smelled like leather plastered across her face. But where was she?
As the memory of her plunge into unconsciousness resurfaced, it didn’t take long for her to realise that she must now be in the old deserted jail that she had helped Amber incarcerate both her sister and her friend in only recently. It didn’t take a genius to work out that she too must now have fallen foul of the lies and deceit of her evil cousin. And this perception was soon reinforced when she tried to move, and found, to her great consternation but not surprise, that her arms and legs refused to shift from their fixed positions.
How could she have been so stupid as to have trusted Amber? Now, it seemed, she, Jade and Lauren were all prisoners of this evil bitch, just as they had been a few months ago, which had eventually led to them almost being sold into slavery. But worse than this, the thought hit her that Amber, far from using only Lauren as bait to draw Hazel into her trap, was actually using all three of them as helpless pawns in her scheme to overcome her hated rival.
But then what? After handing Hazel back to the authorities, what were Amber’s plans for the three of them? She could hardly just let them all go, could she? For that would not only be completely out of character, but would also land her in trouble for kidnapping. The thought crossed Jasmine’s mind that her present status as a helpless captive was not something that she was going to be relinquishing any time soon.
****
A groan, louder than anything that had preceded it, focused Jasmine’s mind back on the fact that she had company in her prison cell.
“Jade? Is that you?”
She tried articulating her question, but the cloth in her mouth ensured that the emitted sound came out as no more than a low, incoherent murmur. But the response was unequivocal. The single word that seeped through a gag probably not dissimilar to her own, was most certainly an attempt to enunciate the word “Jasmine?” with the emphasis definitely focused on a sense of surprise, suggesting that her twin was also sightless, and knew nothing of the close proximity of her sister.
What would Jade make of this? After all, the last time they’d been in the same room together, Jasmine had been her captor; conspiring as she was with their traditional enemy. If Jade could get free now – very unlikely, but you never knew for certain what was possible under extreme stress – what would she do to a sister who had betrayed her? Jasmine could hardly blame Jade if she decided to take her revenge; probably leave her at Amber’s mercy, all tied up and helpless.
Jasmine tried to speak again, but found that her attempts came out as more unintelligible gibberish. Deciding that this thwarted style of conversation would get them nowhere, and that trying to offer an olive branch to her estranged twin in this way was probably not the best means of reconciliation, Jasmine instead turned her attention to weightier matters, namely how to extricate herself from the severe state of bondage she was currently being forced to endure. And with this goal now set in her once more fully functioning mind, Jasmine’s exploration of her state of captivity could begin in greater detail.
So firstly what was she tied with? Well, as a connoisseur of all types of binding material, Jasmine immediately deduced, from the feel of the ligatures around her wrists and lower arms, that this was jute rope. And this seemed, as her area of exploration widened, to be the sole binding agent inhibiting her entire being; no handcuffs or chains, no duct tape or leather straps on this occasion. All these ropes were tied tightly, and held her in a secure embrace which ensured that movement in any way, shape or form, and in any direction, was out of the question. Her investigations informed her that at the present time she had one foot only – the right – resting on the floor; the coldness of the stone numbing her sole, which was protected only by the tights she wore beneath her spandex cat-suit, and the under-foot stirrup strap that stretched across her instep.
Balancing on this one limb, she perceived that her left leg was bent backwards to its limits, and had been bound closely to her thigh along its entire length; the heel of her foot pressing closely against her buttock. No amount of straining would allow her to lower her foot and stretch her leg, as the rope that cut into her spandex attire felt as if it had been bound into an intricate web of stringently secured cords. Her arms had been pulled high up into her back and crossed, so the fingers of her right hand touched her left shoulder blade and vice versa. There, they’d been expertly lashed in a mesh of ropes that not only bound her arms to themselves, but also formed a strict latticework jacket that encircled her body and held her useless limbs tightly against her back.
On her chest, these bonds had been so placed that every time she tried to move her hands, wrists, forearms, elbows or shoulders, the ropes that criss-crossed her breasts chaffed against her spandex sheathed nipples, causing shots of burning pain and ripples of intense pleasure to course through her in equal measure with every wriggling motion. And these bonds hadn’t been formed around her in isolation, but instead connected in some way that she couldn’t figure out to another set of ropes that seemed to hold her in place from above. Taut and strong, these moorings were obviously attached to some fixture in the roof overhead, so that she was unable to move from the spot on which she stood.
Jasmine tried and failed to find any weak link in the looped, cinched and knotted spaghetti-like network of tightly meshed ropes that seemed to dig into her over almost every inch of her being. But the bond that caught her attention and stood out from the rest, was the one which ran from her waist and wended its way in a manner so taut that it embedded itself into her butt crack and pulled up as far as was physically possible into her crotch. So expertly had this particular piece of the overall rope jigsaw been applied, that every movement, however minute or seemingly insignificant, which she made with her hands, arms, legs or any part of her anatomy, pulled this delicately placed cord intrusively into her. And this constant rubbing, even through her tightly stretched spandex garb, caused sparks of energy to shoot through her. Greater and more intense these flashes and throbbing sensations became, forewarning her that any prolonged burst of activity would see her explode into orgasm.
But of course, despite the perilous nature of her situation and the uncertainty of her future, she knew that she was helpless to resist the temptation to take this all the way. Wrenching her hands as high up into her back as the bonds would permit, Jasmine allowed herself to succumb to the magic that only bondage-inspired climax could instigate. Moaning loudly into her layered gag, within seconds her entire body stiffened and every muscle and sinew throughout her being seemed to pulse with an indescribable energy that she had experienced on many occasions before, but which never ceased to surprise and delight her with its power and majesty. The nature of her moorings ensured that she moved not an inch from the spot, although the anchoring ropes on high creaked under the added pressure of her exceptionally animated state. This was so much more intense and exciting, she now reflected, than the climax earlier attained during her self-bondage exploits.
As is often the way with twins, just as Jasmine relaxed after her amazing experience, a muffled noise away to her right alerted her to the fact that her sibling was also once again making sounds through her gag. Unlike the last time, however, this latest outpouring of groans seemed to mimic her own, and Jasmine guessed that Jade had picked up somehow on her state of delirious rapture – whether through hearing her moans of delight, or maybe through some more esoteric, possibly telepathic, channel – and was now experiencing a deliciously entrancing climax of her own. She took comfort from the fact that, although they weren’t exactly on friendly terms at present, at least the familial ties when it came to bondage were still strong and active.
****
Jasmine’s thoughts on her sister were soon interrupted by the sound of a key turning in a lock, followed by the opening of what sounded like a heavy, metallic door. The voice that accompanied these events was immediately recognisable as that of her dreaded cousin, although it appeared that Amber’s comments were aimed, not at her or Jade, but at some third party who seemed to be accompanying her.
“Come along darling, hop this way as quickly as you can. I’m sure you’ll enjoy being reunited with your old friends Jade and Jasmine again. I know how you all love your bondage, so this should be a treat for the three of you.”
A shuffling sound, accompanied by a muffled whine delivered through an expertly inserted gag, told Jasmine that this must be Lauren that Amber had just brought into the room.
“Now let’s get you all rigged up like your friends, shall we?”
This rhetorical question received only an elongated whimper from the newly arrived detainee, and for several minutes Amber remained silent, although the sounds of activity that Jasmine’s hooded ears detected, were obviously a consequence of Lauren being restrained in similar fashion to herself. Finally, after toiling for several long minutes, Amber once again spoke, and it was clear that, whatever it was that she’d encumbered Lauren with, her work had now been completed to her satisfaction.
“There you go. Isn’t it nice to be all safe and secure again sweetie? I have to say that you look really cute all strung up like that.”
There followed a momentary pause, during which Amber seemed to ponder her creation.
“Yes, very aesthetically pleasing indeed. Let’s see what the twins think, shall we?”
Jasmine heard the clicking of boot heels on stone for a few brief seconds, before a hand touched the leather that covered her face. For several seconds, the fingers worked at the lacing that held the sensory depriving hood firmly in place, until finally the claustrophobic covering began to gradually slacken, and seconds later the whole contraption was being pulled upwards and a wall of cooler air hit her face and neck, with her hair falling in sweat soaked rats-tails around her shoulders. She blinked and squinted into the unfamiliar light; the out of focus images around her only hardening into recognisable objects after half a minute or more.
Only once her vision had cleared sufficiently to allow her to make out her surroundings, did Jasmine realise that, although the initial unveiling of her eyes had caused a great deal of visual discomfort, due to what she’d perceived as a brilliantly illuminated environment, the reality of the situation was far different. For the room that she now found herself in was in virtual twilight, the only source of illumination being the natural daylight of a dull winter’s day that streamed through a large but heavily barred window directly behind her.
Jasmine had expected to find herself in one of the myriad small cells which Amber had earmarked as dungeons for Lauren, Jade and – she now gloomily surmised - herself also. But her wide roving eyes soon picked up the fact that this was a larger room than those tiny incarceration chambers. To her right, no more than five or six feet away, she could make out the figure of her sister.
Jasmine had expected to see her twin in bondage of some description, but what she wasn’t prepared for was the nature of her restraints. It wasn’t that Jade’s entire frame was covered in a densely woven mesh of carefully latticed ropes which cut deeply into the tight spandex – and therefore her flesh beneath – that surprised Jasmine. For as with her own situation, Jade’s hands had been yanked mercilessly up behind her back, and then lashed with devastating efficiency to her torso, so that movement of her arms was simply impossible. Nor was she unduly taken aback to see that her twin also wore an eyeless and mouthless leather hood, which had been laced to its drum-tight limits at the back of her head. And as with herself, the one concession to leniency was the crotch rope, which was stretched so tightly that it appeared to almost split her open. But it wasn’t this either that was the cause of Jasmine’s wide-eyed wonderment.
For unlike Jasmine, Jade wasn’t teetering precariously on one leg. In fact, she wasn’t in touch with terra firma at all. To Jasmine’s amazement, not to mention horror, Jade was suspended upside down by her left leg. The rope keeping her airborne - attached to a metal ring in the ceiling - had been wrapped around her knee, which had then been bent backwards – thus groundwards - and her calf lashed to her thigh. Her other leg had then been pulled back behind her until the thigh was in a horizontal position, with her knee bent and her foot pointing at the floor. A rope attached to this ankle had then been secured to her arms and the rope harness at her back.
As Jasmine watched, Amber knelt down beside Jade’s head and slowly began picking at the lacing of her hood, until the tightly fitting leather began to loosen, and she was able to pull this away from her captive’s face. With the top of her head only six inches or so above the floor, upon release Jade’s long, dark hair tumbled onto the bare concrete. Like her sister only minutes before, Jade took several seconds to adjust to the brightness of her surroundings, before casting her deep green eyes upwards and to the left, where they met with the piercing blueness of her sister’s irises. As both still retained the multiple circuits of duct tape that held their cloth gags in place, no words could be exchanged, but Jasmine could see that her sister’s eyes were trying to convey the message, “You see now? I told you not to trust Amber”. Jasmine made what she hoped was an, “I’m sorry I doubted you” facial expression, although whether this look of remorse was discernible or not, she couldn’t tell.
After only a second or two silently communing with Jade, however, Jasmine’s focus shifted away to the left, where Amber was once more actively removing a leather hood from the head of her third captive. The last time Jasmine had laid eyes on Lauren, she was cocooned in layer upon layer of tights and tape. Now stripped of these insulating trappings, Lauren was, of course, still as much a prisoner as she had been on that previous occasion. Now, however, rope had replaced the hosiery and adhesive strips, and it was clear straightaway that a sort of theme was detectable in the way the trio had been bound. For although Lauren was held in a different posture to either of the twins, the latticework pattern formed by the tight ligatures around her arms, legs and body, suggested that Amber had spent a great deal of time perfecting these binding techniques. Lauren sat cross legged on the floor in the lotus position. Each ankle had been bound to the thigh of the opposite limb, and several more circuits of rope ensured that her legs stayed in exactly this position. Like the twins, Lauren too had a crotch rope running from her waist down between her legs.
But it was the way her arms were trussed that made Jasmine – a seasoned bondager herself – gasp in surprise. For those arms, from wrist to shoulder, were lashed mercilessly together behind her; the suppleness of the victim’s young limbs ensuring that her elbows almost touched. But this wasn’t the culmination of the torment that Lauren’s arms had suffered, for once this act of extreme bondage had been achieved, a rope around her wrists had then been pulled up and attached to one of the many metal rings that adorned the concrete ceiling, barely visible in the gloom above.
Such was the tautness of this rope that it allowed the wearer no leeway to bring her hands back downwards, and in fact her shoulders had been wrenched so far back that Lauren’s head was forced forwards. And not only did this securing rope keep her arms rigidly immobile, but it had also been strategically measured out to allow her crossed legs to just about touch the ground… but only just, so that her knees were in essence suspended just above the floor, with her shoulders and upper arms bearing all her weight. Of course, no bondage done by Amber would be complete without a gag, and Lauren’s method of silencing was identical to that of her cellmates.
“Well ladies, I’m sure you’re all glad to see each other again. Make the most of this brief interlude, because in a few minutes you’ll all be back in darkness. I just thought you’d maybe like to admire your fellow inmates’ methods of bondage first, though.”
Her voice echoed around the empty room and caused all three detainees to focus their attention on her.
“I hope you find this little exhibition artistically pleasing. I’m sure that when Hazel sees the pictures I’m about to take of you, she’ll be really impressed with the quality of the goods on offer.”
Amber strolled in front of the three helpless women, stopping at each in turn to look into their wide, frightened eyes, and gloat at the fear and uncertainty that her actions had unleashed in her victims.
“You’ve probably noticed that the technique I’ve used to tie you is a bit unusual, and maybe something that you’ve not come across before. Some call it kinbaku, others shibari. But for ease we’ll just refer to it as Japanese bondage. I’m sure you can’t fail to be impressed with the tightness and inescapability of the rigging which you’re all currently experiencing and - I’m sure - enjoying.”
From a leather holdall bag that lay on the floor, Amber retrieved a digital camera and began snapping away, the light from the flash temporarily blinding each subject as her likeness was captured for posterity. After taking several shots of each of her captives from various angles, Amber took a few seconds to review her photographic creations. The smile on her face suggested that she was more than happy with the results.
“Good, these will certainly help lure Hazel in. I’ve already tentatively put the word out to a few of her old pals in the underworld that it would be beneficial for her to contact me, and I’m confident that in a day or two I’ll have intrigued her enough with my plans to have her walk right into my trap. She’ll think she’s going to get even with Lauren for leaving her tied up for a couple of days, and at the same time make a bit of money from selling all three of you on to her worldwide set of contacts in the slave trade. The trouble is that once she’s handed over the money to take you off my hands, I’ve got plans to overpower her and hand her back to the police… after a few days languishing as a guest in my prison, of course.”
Amber put the camera back in the bag and once more paced along the line of her captive audience; seemingly loving the drama and tension she was creating with her drawn-out story.
“Of course, I’m sure you’re all absolutely dying to know what’s going to become of you once Hazel’s again incarcerated at Her Majesty’s pleasure, aren’t you? Well the sad truth is girls, that I can’t allow any of you to spill the beans as to what’s really been going on here. So I’m afraid, Jasmine and Jade, you’re going to have to disappear… this time for good. I’ve been forging alliances with some of the gangs that Hazel used to deal with, you see, and I’m amazed and delighted to find out that there really is a very lucrative market for young ladies like you all over the world. From Bolivia to Burma, Saudi Arabia to Senegal, and Arizona to Angola, there are just thousands of wealthy men – and women too - who are willing to pay extortionate prices for sweet young females that they can keep as their bondage playthings.”
Amber sauntered slowly over to where Lauren sat.
“But of course, I could never forgive myself if I allowed you to slip through my fingers, my darling.”
She crouched down and took Lauren’s chin in her hand, lifting the cowering woman’s face to within an inch of her own.
“No, once this whole sordid business is over, and these other nasty bitches are out of our hair, you’re mine…. forever.”
Lauren squealed through her gag at the thought that the rest of her life was going to be spent as Amber’s slave. But this only seemed to make the Mistress more pleased with herself. With that evil grin etched indelibly on her face, she stood up to her full height and grabbed the hoods that she’d so recently removed from the helpless trio.
“But I’m getting ahead of myself here. First I’ve got to make sure that Hazel is put back behind bars. It will, of course, be a day or two until I can draw her in and put my plans into operation. So until then ladies, I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay right here as my guests. Perhaps you should consider your role here as one of noble, altruistic sacrifice; of, in effect, contributing to a public service that I’m offering the British people, namely of ridding the streets of scum like that evil woman. You should all be proud to be playing your part in achieving this admirable aim.”
Taking the first hood, she walked over to Jade, and despite a sustained effort on the latter’s part to avoid having her head once more immersed in the leather sheath, within no more than a minute, Amber was tightening the laces and ensuring the two small apertures – the only outlets on this otherwise claustrophobic facial covering – were aligned with the wearer’s nostrils.
“There you go Jade, all nice and snug again. After all, it’ll get cold in here tonight, and we wouldn’t want your ears to get frostbite, would we now?
Jasmine and Lauren’s heads were soon to suffer identical fates.
Story continued in part seven
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