F.E. Campbell

Bound Ankles

1

A Girl Happy in Her Bondage

A late summer breeze rustled the leaves of the trees in Jan’s garden, stirred the grass restlessly, and teased the bare skin of the girl bound to one of those trees. Donna was her name, a healthy young lass of eighteen summers, a wonderful figure that both men and women lusted after, and a face that radiated sweetness and innocence. Donna was also the full time slavegirl and captive of a girl only a little older than herself, her Aunt Janet. And she loved it, being, by nature, a very submissive female much given to love of tight cords binding her body, chains holding her prisoner, and an occasional whipping. Just to keep her in her place and provide a tonic that wakes up the whole system.

That day the twins had been kind to Donna—none of their usual painfully tight, contorted bondage. For that lazy California afternoon, as summer slid quietly into autumn, they had simply bound her hands crossed behind the tree trunk, crossed and tightly knotted but not too uncomfortable, and left the leg irons shackled on her ankles. She could stand, even move her legs a bit, or sit down, although regaining her feet proved difficult but not impossible.

The scene was idyllic. The bright sun to warm her golden skin and a gentle summer breeze to cool her, and the tiny sounds of the forest to entertain her. She had studied the sounds around her, there not being much else to do for a naked girl bound to a tree and all alone, and found there to be a great many. There was the rustle of leaves as they touched one another. There was a constant but varying medley of bird song from near and far. There was even, later in the afternoon when the breeze usually increased, the sighing of wind in the pines. She liked that sound, it reminded her of happy times as a child living in a small Northern California town and playing among the pines everyday. There were insect sounds and an occasional tiny roar of airliners so high above her that they were only specks drawing white lines across the sky. Donna sighed with happiness.

And she was content. She was once again the captive of her beloved “Auntie Jan” and her two daughters, the irrepressible Pip and Patsy, all of whom she loved deeply. She was once again the constant prisoner she had come to understand she wanted to be. She was always bound in some way, handcuffs, chains, leg irons, or the ever-present ropes. Sometimes a week or two went by with her wrists crossed and bound behind her back every second of every day. She became used to it, it was a way of life that suited this beautiful young woman.

Every time she was tied to a tree, a favorite pastime of the twins who loved to leave Donna helpless in the garden while they went off to school, uttering complaints and protests about it being a waste of time, she remembered the first time she had ever been bound. It had been the twins then too, who had caught the unsuspecting Donna in what she thought of at the time as an innocent child’s game. But when the ropes tightened down beyond what a silly game should entail, she wondered. And when the twins refused to release her, she protested. And when they tugged and tore her clothes off, leaving her a naked and completely helpless captive, she knew something was seriously wrong. Then the true nature of the adorable twins came out: their love of torturing helpless naked females. She shuddered with an erotic thrill at the memory of the clips they often attached to her nipples to make them burn with relentless fire. And there was the burning of her bottom whenever the twins took to whipping her bottom with riding crops and straps. For thirteen year old girls, they certainly knew a lot about sexually exciting and torturing a full grown female.

But their lovely mother, Jan, kept them in line and from doing any serious harm to Donna. Her own interests in Donna leaned towards keeping her naked and bound up, occasionally inflicting mild tortures of her own, but mostly playing the games of Lesbos in the privacy of her bedroom where Donna usually slept. In their lovemaking, and Donna had become quite proficient at it under Jan’s training, Donna’s hands were always bound behind her back, a condition that hampered her not at all. She more than made up for lack of hands with a talented tongue and lips.

And sometimes, while passing boring hours in tight bondage among the trees and bushes, she remembered those two people who had both briefly owned her, the fearsome and cruel Margaret Summers and the dashing and handsome Nigel Bransome. Introduced to Donna by Jan, and being a former friend of Aunt Janet’s, Margaret Summers had kidnapped Donna, tortured her for the fun of it, and planned to keep her forever. She had also kidnapped Donna’s beloved Jan, inflicted considerable pain upon her, then turned her over to that cad Nigel who also loved to whip naked girls then ravish them afterwards. But Nigel, not content with just Jan, had kidnapped Donna from under the nose of the cruel Margaret. With a giggle, Donna remembered that evening in Jan’s ‘big room’ under the house, more of a dungeon than anything else, when she had ended their captivity to Nigel by bonking him over the head with an empty champagne bottle. The girls had left him in his car several blocks from their house to awaken with a frightful headache and, hopefully, a lesson learned about messing with Jan and her girls.

In the weeks that followed that memorable incident, she often wondered about Nigel and the evil Margaret. They had not been heard from but she wondered if they would give up. Both of them had expressed a deep longing to possess her body, and both felt that they had a right to do so. Jan had installed a new security system but Donna could only hope that it would be enough. Nigel was cunning with the instincts of a male hunting his prey. And Margaret had a great deal of money and the power it brings. Either of them could mean trouble in the future.

But today was a warm and pleasant day, with no problems or troubles, and Donna was enjoying it. As she blew a stray ant off her left nipple, an occupational hazard one gets used to when one spends a lot of time tied to trees, she knew herself a contented slavegirl. She was not aware of the evil eyes watching from the cover of dense bushes across the clearing.

The crack of a riding crop against bare female flesh resounded throughout the big dungeon, followed immediately by a squeal of pain. “I just love the way she jerks and cries out when the riding crop hits,” said Pip with considerable sincerity.

“It is rather nice,” agreed Patsy. Both girls were holding riding crops, standing on either side of the hanging Donna, and taking turns applying their instruments of pain across the bare flesh of her nicely rounded bottom. Donna, completely naked as usual, was hanging by her wrists which were strapped tightly with leather bands. Her toes were perhaps an inch off the floor, close enough to be frustrating but far enough so she couldn’t touch the floor. With each impact of the riding crop, her body jerked and she danced a few steps in mid-air before the calmed down. Then her body would slowly sway back and forth while awaiting the next blow from the giggling teenagers.

“You really shouldn’t have refused to crawl back to the house,” offered Pip. “Mommy says we can whip you for disobedience. You were disobedient.”

“Yes, you were so bad,” chipped in Patsy. Both girls were in high spirits. They didn’t often get a chance to whip Donna and they did love it so. Since Donna was so very submissive, they had to set traps for her to fall into. In this case she balked at having to crawl a long way back to the house. Actually she hadn’t refused, just uttered a protest that it was hard to crawl when your hands were tied behind your back and your legs were tied together at the ankles and again, cruelly tight, above the knees. The girls reasonably pointed out that it could be worse, she might have been hogtied! But getting her to protest was enough. They untied her legs and immediately led her to the basement dungeon to string her up and lash into her tender flesh.

Donna didn’t bother to deny wrong-doing. She just sighed and awaited the next stroke. She knew well the traps the twins set for her. She avoided what she could see coming but more often than not fell into the worst ones. But the twins knew full well that if they got to whipping her bottom too much, even if in response to refusals, protests, and sarcasms, their mother would step in to prevent Donna from being hurt too much. They all loved Donna terribly and didn’t want to see her seriously hurt. It’s just that the twins did so love to whip her bottom...

Donna, as was often the case, had lost count of the number of strokes the twins had given her. Her educated guess was twenty, and she had a lot of education to base that upon. She whined and bit back a plead that they might stop this painful punishment of an innocent girl. To utter it would give them added fuel for the fire in her bottom. There were very few rules in Jan’s house; no escape attempts, no protesting anything done to you, and no pleading for mercy. And some general stuff about sarcasm, disobedience, and the like. But the rule that was important now was the one forbidding her from pleading. She was sure the twins knew exactly how much they could mark up her bottom before their mother drew the line and punished them for harming their pet slavegirl. But if she broke any more rules, the twins would have reason to give her some more and it would be half justified to Jan. So Donna held back her words and suffered.

They stopped after twenty-six strokes. You usually got an even number of strokes when two twins were involved. Giggling, they went off in search of other pursuits, leaving the naked Donna hanging by her wrists and with a very sore bottom. Donna hung her head and sighed. Her bottom was on fire and she knew there would be angry red marks all over it, if she could only see it. She cried a little as she swayed slowly back and forth. But she forgave the twins. It was simply their nature to enjoy giving her pain. Just as it was her nature to receive it. Jan had called her a natural-born submissive. Donna hadn’t known what that meant at first but came to an understanding that she was a girl who needed to be kept in constant restraints and used by those who enjoyed tormenting naked girls.

The girls came back later and let Donna down. She was very glad to have her feet reach the floor.

Later that night, Donna, naked and with her hands crossed and bound behind her back, was taken to Jan’s bedroom, led by a short piece of rope tied to the ring of the slender metal collar Donna always wore. In the bedroom, Jan untied the leash and pushed Donna playfully onto the huge bed. Tossing off the sheer black baby-doll nightie, Jan joined her slavegirl on the cool red Satin sheets. She pushed Donna over on to her stomach, then straddled her legs and thighs, pinning the girl with tied hands to the bed. Then she leaned forward, slipped hands around Donna to cup the more than ample breasts quite firmly. Donna moaned as Jan pressed her body against the freshly marked up bottom but said nothing. Jan ignored the moan and began kneading the flesh in a way that quickly had Donna moaning with pleasure. Then she drew back, forced Donna’s legs wide apart and placed herself in a kneeling position between the legs, preventing them from closing and placing her in a very good position to tease Donna’s sex. And tease she did until she had the slavegirl gasping and wiggling, Soon Donna’s hips were pushing back as if to impale her sex harder on the fingers that were just inside her vagina. But Jan suddenly withdrew her hand and, with a laugh, slapped Donna hard across the bottom cheeks.

Donna gasped with pain for the open palmed slap had found already tenderized flesh and set new stinging fire to bum her ass. A couple more slaps had the bound girl wiggling harder, Then the teasing hand and very skilled fingers evoked new gasps of pleasure. Jan alternated playing with her slavegirl until the lovely girl was very excited and burned with lust. Then she pushed Donna aside, took her place in the center of the bed and spread her legs wide. Donna, without being told to, crawled between her mistress’ legs and buried her face in the sex of the girl she loved.

It did not matter to Donna that it was her tongue that drove her mistress into spasms of pleasure and a very satisfactory orgasm while Donna’s own pussy ached for satisfaction. All that mattered was her beloved mistress. If Jan had ordered her to give pleasure all night while denying her own, Donna would do her best to make it so. It was frustrating and a form of torture for the slavegirl to be so horny and unable to even touch herself. But it was a beautiful torture and Donna loved every minute of it.

After a second orgasm for the mistress, Jan took pity on her slavegirl She fetched a length of rope, turned Donna back onto her stomach, and tied her ankles tightly together. Then she tied the rope up to her bound hands and pulled tight, forcing Donna into a hogtied. Donna moaned for she feared being left in the hogtie all night as her mistress had done in times past. But it was not to be that way. Instead, Jan fetched a big vibrator, one over twelve inches long and very powerful, one not meant for mere batteries, plugged it’s cord Into a wall socket, and pushed it hard up between Donna’s legs as she lay on her stomach. With her knees not bound, Donna could separate her legs some to allow the vibrator to reach her sensitive place, With a gasp from the hogtied girl, the vibrator pressed right into Donna’s pussy. Quickly her breathing increased to a pant, her gasps turned to moans and whines of pleasure, and, after only a minute, she exploded into a violent climax accompanied by a mini-scream. She quickly bit the pillow but her body arched wildly within the hogtie then trembled with pure ecstasy for a long time.

When Donna came back down to earth, she found herself lying on the carpet at the foot of Jan’s bed, shackled by a short chain and padlock from her collar to one of the rings in the bed, and still hogtied. She didn’t care. With a sigh of satisfaction, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

The next night Jan, for whatever reason, did not want Donna in her bed. Mistresses don’t have to give reasons for their actions and Jan gave Donna none. At bedtime the twins left Donna sitting on the bench in her little cage down in the basement room that all of them thought of as “The Dungeon”, although Jan didn’t like to openly call it that. Jan was also the only one who didn’t use the word “Torture” for some of the things the twins did to their resident slavegirl. But Donna called the whippings and having to ride the Horse torture, and few would argue with her. They did hurt a hell of a lot even if no damage was done.

Donna, naked as usual, she never got to wear clothes anymore, had her hands bound behind her back with skillfully applied rope. She knew there was no hope of her ever working her hands free from those ropes, no escape. She would still be in her cage, still bound, when the morning came and either the twins or Aunt Janet herself came to take her off to a bath and breakfast. She had come to enjoy those baths in warm, scented water, often with lots of bubbles. And the loving hands of Jan or the twins to attend to her cleaning, usually with more attention to the sexual parts than strictly needed for proper cleanliness. Donna sighed and tried to find a comfortable position on the hard wood bench, a nightly task and an impossible one. She much preferred those nights when she shared the warm and loving bed of Jan.

Donna curled up as best she could and drifted off into dreams of never-ending whippings, endless hours of riding the painful Horse, and the wonderful smell of her mistress’ hot pussy. She was not aware of powerful forces gathering outside the safety of Jan’s home, forces that would soon intrude on the idyllic existence of the four girls who lived there. As Donna slept, sinister black figures crept through the bushes.

2

Kidnapped!

Not long after breakfast, Donna was taken into the garden, really a small forest, to be fastened for the day. The twins were happy at the prospect of once again getting to bind their naked slavegirl into some uncomfortable position, then leaving her in the full knowledge that when they returned that afternoon, she would be still tightly bound and just as helpless as they had left her. Donna, as usual, had her wrists crossed and bound tightly behind her back. Except for those times when they had to be untied so that the wrists could be put into some other kind of bondage, her hands were tied behind her, often for days and sometimes weeks at a time. She was used to it. Indeed, on those rare occasions when her hands were not tied, or handcuffed, or strapped, or locked into stocks and pillories, she felt very strange, often not knowing what to do with them.

But today was not one of those days on which she had to worry about what to do with free hands. She followed along behind the twins at the end of a rope leash they had tied to the ring in her collar, and did not worry about anything. The twins would bind her or chain her in some way that she could not escape from, and that was all there was to it. She didn’t even wonder how they would tie her, not even if it would hurt much. Sometimes their bondage hurt a lot, sometimes less, but always there was some pain.

The clearing was a small one, and it held only two things of interest; two small squares of concrete set in the ground, each with a large metal ring firmly planted in the middle. The twins had used this area many times before, the last one being to lock her collar to one of the rings with a padlock so that she had to keep her head down by the ring in the ground all day. They had then laughingly untied Donna’s hands so that the slender metal collar and padlock were the only restraints on the naked girl. They found it amusing that she was totally free of arm and leg, but still completely helpless. It had been an awkward day, with Donna having to spend it all either lying down or kneeling. The ring was too low for her to sit up. But Donna had been grateful because that was certainly one of the twins least painful positions. It had almost been a holiday from the usual tight ropes and painfully contorted positions.

Perhaps again today? she wondered. But the twins had not brought a padlock. Donna could see that all they held in their hands was another piece of rope, maybe twenty feet long. Well, at least it wouldn’t be one of their major productions that involved hundreds of feet of rope and Donna’s being very uncomfortable for hours on end.

They sat her down on the grass half way between the two rings, then set about binding her ankles together side by side and very tightly. They finished that job with several feet of rope hanging out. Pip took that rope down to the ring in front of her feet and passed it through the ring to come back up to her ankles were she pulled it very tight and knotted it several times to insure Donna would not be able to jerk it free. Meanwhile, Patsy was busy untying the leash rope from Donna’s collar and binding one end of it around the naked girl’s wrists. That rope then went back to the ring behind Donna and through it. Patsy pulled and Donna felt her arms moving away from her body. When the strain was really beginning to get uncomfortable, Patsy stopped and tied off the rope in many firm knots.

“You realize, don’t you,” Pip asked as the twins stood back to admire their handiwork, “that if you fall to either side, you won’t be able to get up?”

Donna sighed. It was true. With her arms pulled out behind her, a fall would meant that she would have to say lying on her side the rest of the day. Still, that wouldn’t be so bad.

“But we don’t want you to fall over and get nasty old dirt all over you,” added Patsy. “So we decided that if you’re lying on your side when we come back, we’ll take you back to the dungeon and make you ride the Horse for two hours before dinner. Won’t that be nice?”

It would not be nice but Donna refrained from so stating. The twins knew as well as she just how horrible the Horse was. Although, Donna thought, they didn’t suffer on it as much as she did because they were not yet full grown, and didn’t weigh as much as Donna. That put more weight pressing that cruel plank edge right up into her pussy. It was a terrible punishment and Donna hated it. The twins always tied her so tightly that she couldn’t move a muscle while riding that wooden plank they called the Horse.

“Bye, Donna, dear, we love you,” they chanted as they skipped off into the trees.

Donna sighed. But this wasn’t too bad. She was sitting on the ground with her legs straight out in front of her and her arms at an angle behind her. But it wasn’t too bad. At least her back was straight up and sitting like this wasn’t too uncomfortable. But she wasn’t kidding herself. Even something as seemingly innocent as this could grow more and more uncomfortable until her muscles were screaming for release. And there was the problem of not falling down. She resolved not to fall over and give the twins the satisfaction of condemning her to two hours of riding the Horse.

Hours drifted by slowly, and all Donna had to tell the passage of time was the shifting shadows from the trees and the increasing ache in her shoulders and back muscles. A couple of times in the warm afternoon sunlight she caught herself drifting off into sleep. But she fought it back because she would certainly wake up lying on her side and knowing she was doomed to a hellish two hours before dinner.

In mid afternoon, not far from the time the twins would normally come to observe their captive’s suffering and eventually free her, Donna thought she heard a noise behind her. With difficulty she looked back over her shoulder but could see nothing save greenery. Besides that was not the direction the twins would come from, the path from the house was directly in front of her. Unless they were playing some kind of game, and sneaking around to observe her when she didn’t know they were there. Donna sighed. Well, there was nothing she could do about it so she just sat there in her bonds.

Her shoulders were really aching by now and her lower back was in pain because she had taken to leaning forward as much as she could to ease the stain on her shoulders. Her bottom and the backs of her thighs were itching from the grass, and she had endured various ants crawling over her legs and the rest of her during the long day.

Suddenly there was a little noise again behind her. But before she could look around something grabbed her head from behind and shoved a wad of something into her mouth. The startled girl didn’t have time to react, only to realize that the hands cramming something into her mouth were not the small hands of the twins. These were the rough and strong hands of a man!

Donna squealed but the rubber wad was tight in her mouth, pushing her tongue down and preventing any kind of speech. Quickly the straps attached to the rubber wad were buckled around her head. In less than a minute the gag was secured tightly around her and Donna was silent save for the whines that escaped through her nose.

Only then did her assailant step around to where she could see him. It was a man she had never seen before! He was young, early twenties, and dressed totally in black save for the hands and face. The face was the part Donna didn’t like, Not that he was ugly, but it was his expression. He was not grinning like so many men do when staring at a naked woman. He was not even smiling in the slightest as a job quickly and well done. She could not even detect gloating in his eyes that he now had control over a beautiful naked and totally helpless young woman. What made her shudder deep down was the businesslike expression. No triumph, no joy, not even fear. He was just doing a job and doing it efficiently.

Donna watched as he produced a knife and slashed the rope holding ankles to the metal ring. Then he cut the rope holding her arms pulled back. Donna grunted at the stab of pain the sudden lower of her arms brought then looked up into the eyes of this strange man. But he did not meet her eyes, instead he roughly turned her over onto her stomach. In a second her ankles were being pulled up by the rope hanging from them. That rope he tied to her wrists in a quick but very tight hogtie.

Donna was almost too shocked by this sudden attack to even struggle. But struggling would have been useless because she had been tied from the start. Even after he had cut the ropes holding her to the rings, she had still been tied at the ankles and with her wrists behind her back. The invader picked her up easily and carried her towards the house.

Donna’s mind was a turmoil of emotions. What was happening? Who was this guy? And why was he openly carrying her towards the house? Weren’t Jan and the twins there? Donna had a bad feeling about what she would find in the house.

Her bad feeling came true. Inside the house she was taken to the front room where she found Jan and the twins. Jan was lying on the floor, her arms handcuffed behind her back, her ankles also wearing a pair of handcuffs, and a third pair linking her wrists and ankles in an all-steel hogtie. She was also gagged and her clothes were in disarray, indicating she had put up a considerable fight. The twins were also there, both completely naked and both also hogtied, lying side by side by the front door. Each girl had been gagged with a rubber ball and each was very tightly bound with thin cord, elbows crushed together, cords cutting deeply into the flesh of their legs, and their ankles tied up to their elbows in a hogtie so tight that their hands were actually hidden between their calves and thighs as the legs were folded.

There were two other men present, dressed in black, and just as silent as the one who had carried Donna into the house. Usually when you get a group of men together and present them with four rather lovely young ladies, three of them naked, you will get comments, risqué remarks and some leering. But these men hardly gave the naked girls a second glance as they went about their business. Donna had a very sick feeling in the pit of her stomach about all this.

Two men picked up Jan like she was a package, one grabbing the handcuff link between her wrists and the other the handcuffs joining her ankles. They simply picked her up and carried her from the room. Donna, who had been dumped on a sofa, could hear the whine of pain as Jan’s metal encircled wrists and ankles suddenly took all her weight. She winced along with her mistress.

Then the teenage girls were taken, each picked up by the ropes connecting their ankles and elbows, like a satchel, and carried out the front door. A few seconds later Donna was picked up by two men and carried after her friends.

There was a van, a large van, with ‘Eddie’s Dry Cleaning’ printed on the side. The back doors were open, and through them Donna was dumped into the van. The floor was, surprisingly enough, carpeted rather than the bare steel she had expected. There were four large wooden boxes inside, each about four feet long. From her position on the floor, Donna could see little of what was going on. But she heard Jan squealing in pain and anger even if she couldn’t see what was going on. Her view was limited to the side of Pip who lay in her hogtie directly before Donna’s eyes. Then the twin was picked up and Donna could see her being lowered into one of the boxes. The man did something inside the box after Pip had disappeared from sight, then a lid was put on and screwed down.

Donna was the last to go into a box. As she was being lowered, she could see straps attached to the bottom of the box. Then she was lying on her stomach and could feel a heavy, wide leather strap going around her arms and body at the level of her breasts. Then another around her bent double legs about the level of her ankles. The straps were tightened down until she felt squashed. Then there was darkness as the lid was put over her.

Donna lay there breathing heavily in the darkness of the wooden box, wondering what was happening and feeling deep fear. The ropes were tight on her limbs and the straps crushing, her to the bottom of the box made her whole body immobile. Experimentally she tried to rock her body from side to side and found that all motion was denied her. With an effort she could shift her head from one side to the other but that was only at the cost of scraping her chin on the rough wooden bottom of the box.

Gradually she realized that the darkness was not total, there was a little light coming from someplace. She also realized that she was getting fresh air from somewhere, and concluded that there were air holes cut along the bottom of the box.

She wanted to cry. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before that she was uncomfortable but happily tied between the two rings in the forest. She had been pleased with herself that she had managed to stay in an upright position all day and would escape having to ride the Horse. Well, for that evening at least. But now, just a few minutes later, she was tightly confined in a box, gagged and helpless, and going to who knows where. And her mistress Jan was also a prisoner of these frightening men. Somehow that was even worse than Donna’s own condition. It was not right for her mistress to be treated like that. She was used to constant confinement and restrictions. But her mistress was Jan, someone special who she loved. This was just not right.

Sounds of men moving around and boxes being slid across the carpeted floor of the van filtered into her prison, but no words. Then her box was moved. After that there was silence for a while, followed by the starting of an engine and the moving of the van. Donna vaguely remembered seeing hanging clothing in the van when she was carried out and figured that their boxes were now stored along the sides of the van, under hanging clothes. Even if a policeman were to look in here, he wouldn’t see four kidnapped and bound up girls, he would see a load of cleaning. Donna started to cry. Four captive girls were being driven off to a new and frightening fate.

The light was blinding in Donna’s eyes when the lid first came off. The trip hadn’t been too long but was certainly uncomfortable. They had been carried from the van still in the boxes, at least Donna had been, and deposited somewhere. Then she had lain there for a long time, hearing nothing, and herself silent in her cruel bonds. She had only a few moments notice when the screws were taken out of the lid of her box. Then there was light.

The men dressed in black were still there. The room she was lifted out into was large but barren. She could see, after her eyes got used to the lights, that the three boxes containing Jan and the twins were lying next to hers, the lids still screwed on tightly. Strong male hands untied the rope connecting her wrists and ankles and she was allowed to unfold, a most satisfying experience after so long in a squashed down hogtie, Donna wanted to talk, to ask questions, and to plead for the release of her mistress. But the gag was left in her mouth. Her wrists were untied from behind her but quickly retied in front, palms facing, with the same rope. Then another length of rope was looped around her wrists bondage. Donna’s eyes followed that rope up to where it disappeared into a hole in the ceiling. She had a bad feeling about that, too.

While one man helped her to her feet, another pressed one of four buttons on the wall. The humming was very low level but the pull on her wrists was very real. Quickly Donna was hoisted up until her toes were inches from the floor. Then the hoist stopped and one of the men tied the rope hanging from her ankle ropes to a small ring set in the floor directly below her. He pulled the rope until it was taut, and Donna could feel her body being stretched lengthwise by the ropes. It was uncomfortable but not really painful.

From her advantage point off the floor, Donna watched as the next box was unscrewed and opened. She flinched as she saw how those leather straps crushed Pip to the bottom of the box. Had she been strapped down that tight? The teenage girl was lifted out and untied from the very tight hogtied she had been bound in before being packed in the box. Her arms were limp by her sides when the ropes were off and Donna whined when she saw the angry marks from deep in the girl’s flesh from those thin cords. The girl’s arms above the elbows were an angry band of reddish indentations. The ropes peeled from her legs left their marks, too. But the girl wasn’t given time to recover. Her wrists were joined in front of her and attached to another rope hanging down from the ceiling. Donna looked up to find, as she expected, three other holes and three other ropes hanging down besides her own. When Pip’s arms were pulled up and her toes left the floor, the teenager was left to hang for a minute. Then one man bent and bound her ankles together. The young girl weakly kicked out at the man, who casually brushed aside her feeble attack. Then he had her feet together and was winding rope around the ankles. He left a few feet of rope hanging down when he was finished but did not tie that to the ring below her. Instead, he took a short length of rope and bound the teenage girl’s elbows together. Pip was forced to bend her head forward as her arms came together over her head. When her elbows were tightly together, bound by the same thin cord that had bound them when she was in a hogtie, she was hoisted again until her head was almost the level of Donna’s. Then her ankle ropes were tied down to the ring in the floor, stretching the slender teenage nudity vertically in the middle of the room.

The next box yielded Jan. Donna wanted to cry out to her mistress but had to hang mute as the oldest of the girls was unlocked from her handcuff hogtie. She tried to fight, but between three strong men, she was easily overpowered. Soon she was hanging next to Donna, hands over her head, ankles tied down to the floor, and still gagged. Before turning their attentions to the fourth box, one of the men casually cut all the already ripped clothing from Jan’s body. Donna wanted to protest that her mistress shouldn’t be seen naked before strange men, that it just wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t.

Patsy was the last to be taken from her box and strung up in mid air. Her elbows had been tied together as with Pip, but Donna and Jan had been spared the additional pain. All four hanging girls formed a large square with the two twins on her left and in front of her and Jan on her right. There was plenty of room for someone to walk in the middle of the square. Donna almost had the impression that this room had been made expressly for the purpose of hanging these four girl in discomfort.

Then the men gathered all the loose bits of rope, the handcuffs, and tossed everything into the boxes. Then they carried the boxes from the room, closing the door behind them, and leaving four naked and hanging girls to wonder about their fate.

Jan and Donna exchanged glances but the only thing Donna could get from the communication was that Jan didn’t know what was going on either. And that she was in as much discomfort as Donna. The main difference was that Donna was used to being bound into contorted and painful positions, it was a way of life with her. Jan was not. She felt terrible when she saw her mistress suffering. The four of them hung for a long time. With no windows and no clocks, they could only go by how much their arms and shoulders ached. And how much their wrists hurt. The twins seemed to be taking this ordeal with the resiliency of teenagers. Jan suffered the most, not being used to hanging by her wrists, even though she had sentenced Donna to that punishment many times. And, Donna remembered, often used it on her own daughters. Donna suffered but knew things could get worse. Much worse.

After what was probably two hours but seemed longer things got worse.

The door opened and in walked a large woman wearing only leather pants and black patent leather high heels. As she clicked her way across the floor, Donna could see that she had very firm muscle tone, firm and very large breasts, and, in general, a shape that most people would call “hard body.” Yet the woman was obviously very much a woman and very sexual in her own, powerful way.

3

New Imprisonment

Jan moaned in the recognition of this woman. Margaret Summers! Donna moaned, too, inwardly at the sight of the woman who had kidnapped both her and Jan before. And who had tortured both of them before turning Jan over to that cad Nigel Bransome for more torture and rape at his hands. Then she had keep Donna as a slavegirl for several weeks, culminating in a Bridewell type flogging of Donna as a show for some of her friends. Shortly after that Donna had been kidnapped by Nigel right out of Margaret’s garden. She had thought she would never see this woman again. She was wrong.

Miss Margaret Summers hated Jan. And coveted Donna.

She wanted Donna as her own full-time slave girl. Now she had all four of them in her power. It wasn’t hard to read the gloating and sadistic pleasure in her eyes.

“Well, hello, my dears,” she began as if greeting old friends. “So nice to see you again. And in such lovely circumstances. You all look so delightfully uncomfortable!”

The big woman walked around the hanging girls, tapping a riding crop against the palm of her left hand. “Very beautiful, very beautiful. You all look so lovely. I can trace the lines of stress in your bodies. I can almost feel your pain.” She sighed contentedly. “I can see your fingers hanging limp and sense the pain in your wrists. I can see your toes stretched downward but not quite reach the ground. And I can see the fear in your eyes.” The last comment was uttered through a smile that held no warmth.

She walked around behind Donna and tapped her bottom with the riding crop. “I see no fresh whip marks here,” she reprimanded. “This girl hasn’t been whipped recently. You,” she said, turning to Jan, “really are remiss in keeping your slave in the proper frame of mind. I shall correct that.”

Suddenly her hand swung out to land a slash across the tender flesh of Jan’s bottom. The girl whined loudly into her gag and arched her body with a jerk as if trying to get away from the pain. Donna tried to protest but was quieted when Margaret turned to deliver a slash across her bottom. Donna squealed and jerked her body. She now remembered just how hard this woman could whip a girl’s bottom. She wanted to close her eyes and hope all this would go away. But she knew it wouldn’t, just as she knew this woman would get a lot of pleasure out of torturing them for a very long time. A very long time. And between the whippings there would be torture of other kinds...

“And the famous twins, Pip and Patsy,” she continued with a token swat across each of their bottoms. The girls simply glared at her and didn’t acknowledge the stroke with even a flinch. “I’ve heard a lot about your abilities to escape from fairly good rope bondage. I will not underestimate you two. I understand you two have been practicing on each other for years. And that your mother helps you practice with lot’s of hours spent in bondage?” Margaret turned again to Jan. “Isn’t that right, dear?” she said sweetly. Jan’s only reply was to lower her eyes to the floor. “I said, right, dear?” This time Margaret accented her query with a slash of the riding crop directly across one bare breast. Jan cried into the gag and trembled from the pain. A red mark appeared on her breasts, next to the nipple.

“I really would like the favor of a reply,” said Margaret Summers evenly. Jan nodded her head. “Good. We are beginning to understand each other. You know, Jan, I still hate you as much as I did before. Even more so, after you sent that Nigel Bransome to kidnap sweet little Donna right out of my garden. That wasn’t very nice.”

She walked around behind the hanging girls and every one of the four captive’s throats tightened in fear. Margaret spaced out her slashes with the riding crop to make the session last longer. She would land a few strokes to one bottom then move on to the next. She inflicted pain right and left, enjoying every second of it, and grinning all the while. After each girl’s bottom, including the twins’, was crisscrossed with red marks, Miss Margaret Summers walked slowly around in front of the naked girls and smiled a most wicked smile.

“I’m sure you know that a girl’s bottom is not the only target on her body,” she lectured them. “There are breasts... And the front of your thighs which can be marked up nicely. And there is the bottom of your feet. I could tie your big toes together then tie them down to the ring so that you would all have to arch your feet. That would make the sole of your feet available to my riding crop even though you’re all hanging by your wrists. Isn’t that a grand idea?”

No one answered. The twins looked to their mother but Jan could only hang her head in sadness that she could do nothing to stop this torture. Margaret, obviously taking silence to mean all agreed with her, put her whip down and proceeded to do as she had threatened. She withdrew some stout twine from her pocket and began binding big toes together, starting with Jan. As she finished wrapping and cinching down each pair of toes, she then tied the string down to the ring below the girl, pulling as tightly as she could to force the girl’s feet to arch downward. It did make each girl’s soles available, hampered only a bit by the rope which ran between their feet to anchor their ankles to the floor. She resumed her standing position and regained her whip.

There followed what seemed like hours of torture to the suspended girls. Margaret slashed bottom and breasts and thighs, and the soles of bare feet. The bare room echoed with gasps and whines and moans and stifled screams from tortured naked girls. Each girl suffered her own torment when the whip turned to her but also the torment of the others when the whip slashed at another. The twins flinched and cried with each stroke that cut their mother. And Jan felt every burning slash on the skin of her daughters. Donna cried for her mistress and would have offered to take all the strokes herself had she the power of speech.

Margaret did not tire. Dozens of strokes landed with force upon the defenseless maidens hung up before her like so many slabs of meat. Her strong arm delivered accurate stroke after stroke to send burning pain shooting through a bottom, or a pair of bound feet, or a breast. Each girl sweated from the pain and was soon glistening under the bright lights overhead. Margaret Summers, too, was sweating, a fine film of perspiration covered her massive breasts and flicked from her nipples as the whip cut into exposed girl flesh. And each girl had a good view of the others as they winced and gasped and jerked in their bonds.

But all good things must come to an end, and even the strength of Margaret Summers ebbed until she could no longer slash tortured flesh with the force she would like. Finally she dropped the whip by the door and walked over to Jan. She was breathing heavily as she looked up into Jan’s eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. You see what power and money can buy you? In this case it buys a team of professionals to bring your enemy and leave her before you in total helplessness. And you will remain totally helpless for a long time while I vent my anger upon your tender skin. And I have a lot of anger. A lot.”

Margaret turned to look at each punished girl in turn. Then she suddenly turned and was gone, taking her riding crop with her.

Jan looked to Donna and Donna looked back in utter helplessness. Margaret was right, they were all helpless and would all suffer at the hands of this crazy woman for as long as the woman wanted it that way. Jan was crying and Donna’s heart went out to her. She longed to utter comforting words, to touch Jan softly, and to take away her pain. But she could only hang by aching wrists and hope their suffering wouldn’t last too long.

Perhaps ten minutes later, Margaret burst back into the room. Clutched in her hand was a mass of clothespins. Without a word she went from girl to girl, attaching the little wooden demons to defenseless nipples. A minute later she was again gone and a little bit more pain was added to the suffering of the unfortunate four.

When they were finally let down, it was not Margaret Summers who did it, but Julie, her black maid and assistant in the torturing of female flesh. At first Julie made a little inspection tour, visiting each girl and examining with obvious delight the marked up flesh of each. “Margaret, she really whipped you all,” she offered. “She really likes to whip a girl. Yes, sir, she really likes to whip a girl.”

But she did lower them to the floor, But she did it one at a time, starting with Jan. After Jan’s feet touched the floor but before Jan’s hand were lowered, a pair of handcuffs were locked upon one wrist above where the ropes tightly bound them. Then as soon as Julie had the ropes off the wrists, she pulled Jan’s hands behind her back and locked the other cuff so that Jan was hardly free at all. Only then did she untie Jan’s toes and ankles. She led the whimpering girl from the room without taken off the gag. Donna noticed that Jan limped on sore feet.

A while later Julie returned and took one of the twins away.