The Unreal Factor 2 – Not Your Usual Captive












She caught herself looking at her right hand, such a beautiful tan... the weekend had been fabulous... the sun, the beach... Mario and his (gorgeous) wife... so much fun…


Those two were so inventive in the games they played with her... Or rather, the games that she and Mario played with the lovely and incredibly flexible and submissive Sally...


‘The calm before the storm...’, if there was any definition for those three wonderful days... that was it. Here she was, Monday (of all days!) morning and back at her office with the biggest crisis that ‘Desires Inc.’ had ever faced! If word came out about what had happened and especially HOW it had happened... they would be ruined!!!




A beep from the intercom took her off of her reverie.


‘Yes Sofia?’


‘Excuse-me, ma’am, but Ms. Horn is here...’


She took a deep breath, sighed and thought to herself ‘Time to face the...’


Victim of her company’s incompetence?


Unlikely avenger of many people that neither she nor her had ever met?


Biggest threat to all that she and her sister had achieved in those seventeen years?


Or was she something else?


She looked at the mid-thirties woman that was entering her office... No sign of distress, nor despise nor contempt. No fierce determination in her eyes...


No tears, no fear and no fury?


What was wrong with that woman?


She was acting as if she had just stopped by to make a new request for another ‘absence’ of hers, the fifth this year alone! Just like she had selected the model, her ‘persona’ and their safe words, the length of her (and of the model if, when, she managed to free herself and ‘turn the tables’ on her half-naked captor) captivity and all that. As her petite and plump (not fat!) secretary closed the door behind her, and blushed adorably after the latest attempt of Mychelle Horn to have her as her ‘bound and naked partner in captivity’, as if her big sis’ would ever allow that to happen... (Sofia was hers alone!), she remembered everything that she had read about the woman who was now going to sit in front of her.


Self-made woman, both her biological parents died in a car crash when she was a baby and she was adopted by their neighbors (whom in turn died in another car accident when she was thirteen), lived in a myriad of foster homes up until her 17 years. Then she disappeared and stayed totally under the radar for three years, absolutely no paper trail at all (but she had once said to her that she never had ‘such an enlightening time’ as those years in all her life! Which made her wonder...), before she resurfaced in the Bible Belt, where she decided to get a degree in veterinary medicine in an obscure college. Very few social contacts while a co-ed, although she was quite active in ‘animal rights’ and ‘refugees’ causes.


Four years later she founded (with a soon to be retired partner) and was now the sole owner of a medium to large business of animal food (and shelters all over the state), lived alone in an estate twelve miles away from the town, in a large house built nearly a century ago. No next of kin save for a distant aunt (or the likes) and three cousins (that lived over a thousand miles away) with whom she barely got in touch with (they didn’t wanted to raise her due to issues with her parents that they transferred to her apparently). No steady relationships with anyone (quite a long list of one night stands, mostly African-Americans like her, but not a single woman), a clean rap sheet (with no minor sealed records) and pristine reputation, and a regular and very active client of the ‘Desires Inc.’ for the good part of the past six years.


She didn’t had a favorite ‘handler’, but all had to be women, younger than her (‘preferably very curvaceous’) and extremely good with sailor-type knots, only non-abrasive rope could be used to restrain her (no glue on the knots!) although tape and scarves and the likes were allowed to gag and blindfold her, and never less than two ‘handlers’ per ‘absence’...


Ironically, her record was five ‘escaped convicts against a lonely housewife’ at once!


Thus it was obvious that she did have enough money to spend on her ‘kidnapped by skimpy dressed hot & buxom & crazy about knots chicks who are going to suffer my wrath sooner than they can think about it!’ fantasies (she had already ran back and forth the list of ALL the girls available at ‘Desires Inc.’... twice!), as well as in fancy clothes, shoes and in the New York Yankees and New York Giants (so far away from the Big Apple, which wasn’t even her hometown, and yet...), so money wasn’t the problem.


Her hackers had made her sure that this woman wasn’t having any financial troubles at all nor had any symptom of being particularly revengeful...


So what did she wanted from her?





The opportunity came with the mortgage crisis, three blocks of the neighborhood (on both sides of the street) had become vacant with the foreclosures and their boss had bought them all. A pet project of hers, which could help them cut costs on the long run by concentrating most of their activities in one single point of the town, was put in action.


The three blocks stood at the corner of the town, literally (from the door of the last house to the border of the county it was less than a mile), and in order to avoid looks from noisy neighbors the first blocks had been filled with single workers of the company, the other were supposedly kept to accommodate visiting members of the company’s branches.


The truth was that the houses of the second block had been reserved to the captivity of their company’s clients, while the houses of the third block could either be used by other clients or to accommodate the ones responsible for the safety of both captives and captors.


Thirteen men and five women took turns at the number 23 of the street, where the HQ of the security system of the whole secret complex was located. There they could, in theory, monitor the streets, all the houses and the neighboring areas.


In theory, because two factors had modified this.


One was a virus, thanks to an idiot that had opened an e-mail, sent by someone he had never heard of, that had forced the whole system to be shut down (but not before it had been damaged heavily), and when they were getting ready to restart the whole thing what had happened? A police stake out not fifty yards from their door!


Whoever was the target of the boys-in-blue in that house on the second upper street, it had demanded heavy surveillance hardware, which in turn had forced the security’s geeks to remove or deactivate part of their own. So they were partially blind at the moment.


Which was why they had all been told to be alert on the double.


They got reinforcements (four men and a woman) and... Nothing happened for a week.


So they all relaxed, after all it was a Sunday morning, there would be football games on TV and nothing was going to happen anyway... right?


In order to provide privacy to their clients the (hidden cameras) could not be on 24/7 except if the ‘fantasy’ was deemed (by their boss) ‘too risky’, usually they showed only their clients and their cardiac rhythms and other vital signs that hidden sensors in every room of every house were able to capture, but if the security member in charge of the viewing wanted (or was ordered so) only the vital signs were shown.


Every now and then he would have to check on the vital signs of the ‘handlers’ to see if they were alright, and he/she could switch on the camera of the room where the ‘handler(s)’ was/were to do a proper check on them too, but to avoid voyeurism it could only stay ‘on’ for a minute (unless for any reason the alarm button was hit).


Sitting in front of the wall of TV screens that morning was Herb, a former Marine who had gotten used to all the weird stuff he had seen the past months.


Aside surveillance from the streets the screens were showing: a couple’s fantasy as the kinky kidnappers of a Playmate of the Year (and the now naked North Dakotan blonde girl did had the looks of one!), a gay kidnapper fantasy of a local celebrity (he only looked at that screen for a moment every thirty/fifty minutes), a mid-60’s woman being ‘harshly handled’ by two nearly naked girls with less than a third of her age, a trio of geeks getting their ‘revenge’ on two ‘cheerleaders’, two more normal ‘kidnaps’ and...


The (in)famous Mychelle Horn!


He had put 200 dollars on her! And she hadn’t made it, yet!


‘Come on girl, come on!!!’


‘Girl? She could be your older sister!’


He turned around; it was one of the newcomers, Allen. A former ranger, and loudmouth as all of them. It had been his attitude that had made him make a bet that big, usually he never put more than 20 bucks on the bets regarding the captive on screen 6, but now...


‘She still has until sunset...’


‘Please, both of her handlers know her well. And both...’


Oh-oh, that twinkle in his eyes... here it comes...


‘(...) Took a full week of training with a dominatrix downtown last week...’




‘Training? Training of what?’


‘Knots, efficient and ungiving ones... of course...’


‘And you knew it?’


‘Of... course... YES!!!’ – said the other men as they entered the room.






It wasn’t like they had mummified her with rope. There was plenty of her flesh exposed to the unprotected bulb’s light, but the rope was in the right places and it had her stuck over that bare mattress for good! Her legs wouldn’t be able to be freed without the help of her hands, trapped in a web of rope that... Well, well, they had taken some classes...


Just like she had told them to.


After twenty five minutes of sweating hard work Rosalynn patted her buttock and stood up, Sherylynn pointed somewhere else the gun she was holding in her right hand and both girls high-fived, then grinned at the struggling naked woman at their feet.


Then Sherylynn knelt by her side and said the safe word.




The struggle stopped, but not the grin on Rosalynn’s face.


‘Are you ok? You sure you can handle this until noon?’


Their captive nodded defiantly, the grin returned to Sherylynn’s face.


‘Good, WE will have a nice lunch, YOU will have cold custard as usual and then it will be MY TURN to restrain you... and if you think that THIS... is a good job..., this sloppy... (Ouch!!!) – Rosalynn had just slapped her behind a bit too playfully – As I was saying, this sloppy job... Don’t you dare Rose!... which is now holding you DOES NOT compare with what I have in mind... so be ready for some good cramps!’


The safe word was repeated and the struggle restarted as the white tong & string bikini clad girls turned off the light, left the room and closed it with a shove of Rosalynn’s left hand.


‘I should spank you! Right now!’


The brunette had already run to the couch and turned on the TV while throwing the roll of black electrician tape (that she had used to gag ‘Mycha’) at her friend...


‘Hey...!!!’ – But she grabbed it with both hands.


‘I have already made lunch and dinner for us yesterday; it’s your turn to make something in the kitchen, edible and nutritious please, for a change!’


The younger girl had already put on some Brit-pop show and was amping up the volume.


She stood there for exactly seven songs thinking in a way to make her change her mind... and gave up, turning around and going to the kitchen, still holding the roll in her hands.


Ah well, it wasn’t like she didn’t knew how to cook, just that Rosalynn was a much better cook than herself and she loved everything that sassy and fun ‘cheese head’ did, especially when there was some fruit involved... those cakes!!!! Those...


What was this feeling?




On a sunny and hot day?


She had arrived at the kitchen and there was an air current there, coming from...  An open window? Strange, she didn’t remember opening that window... had Rosalynn did that?


No, she hadn’t. There was some glass on the floor and an irregular hole in the glass of the window. Somebody had broken into the house...


She turned around, to punch the alarm button by the door and saw her.




Of all people!!! SHE!!!! Standing less than a yard away from her...


‘Well, well, blondie, what do you have in your hands? Tape? How thoughtful of you...’


She wanted to scream, to run... to do anything and everything... And the other woman simply closed the distance between them with a mocking smile in her face.


She didn’t resist when the roll was pried form her fingers... she barely flinched as the strip was smoothed over her lips and she was forced to turn around...


She couldn’t help but pray and beg, silently, for the rescue to appear...






Meanwhile Herb was furiously rooting for Mychelle while Allen, Carter, Knox and Porter were rooting against. While it was pitch-dark for the captive they had a good view (from two angles) of her efforts. The taut hogtie that firmly held her was really something (those girls were that mean?), she rolled over, turned around, moved her legs, bend them and extended them for a while, tensed her arms, rolled over again... then she stood still...


The weird part was that her cardiac rhythm had barely changed during all that work.




The four conspirators, three of them had lost too much money betting against Mychelle and the last one just wanted to have a good laugh at a Marine, didn’t understood at first what was he talking about. Then they followed his finger, pointing at somewhere in the back of the struggling woman... Oh no... It was...




Little by little she managed to work on that slack, and then her arms could move a little more away from the rope ‘lock’ that held them against her back...


And they all knew that it was just a matter of time...






‘There, that’ll hold you while I fetch your friend...’


She couldn’t see anymore, nor could she scream or move.


Just for the ‘fun’ of it she had taken away her top, and then wrapped tons of tape over her large breasts, her hands must have been looking like door knobs now, and her crossed legs were almost completely covered with that black sticky stuff.


And all over her body the tape had been applied so tightly!


‘Calm down... calm down... calm... down...’ she kept saying to herself over and over.


The security fellas were on their way, of course they were on their way...




She tried to struggle, to wriggle, to do anything. But she had been ‘anchored’ to one of the sturdy table’s feet, which was in turn bolted in its place, so her efforts were more than just vain. And little by little despair started to overcome her as the help didn’t arrived...






At first she thought that it was Sherylynn’s left hand that suddenly covered her lips. No, too big. Mycha’s? No, too forceful, ungentle as possible...


Then whose hands...?


She turned her head to her right, and got the shock of her life!


Denise Fyffe!


The escaped convict (two accounts of armed robbery, one of murder and one of attempted murder, aggravated this and aggravated that, and that too, all well and easily proven by that town’s D.A.) who had used Michael Keaton’s trick in ‘Desperate Measures’, swallowed a small piece of metal (wrapped in plastic) but had it tied to one of her molars, so after she ate something that she was allergic to she had to rushed to a hospital, there she retrieved the piece of metal and used it to free herself from the cuff that held her to the bed frame.


Then she beat the cop that was guarding her quite savagely, he had to put on a cast on one of his arms. Next she attacked a nurse, knocking her out cold with a punch, stripped her and took her clothes, leaving her tied and gagged with torn strips of bed sheets inside a closet.

She drove in the nurse’s car for about half an hour randomly in the suburbs, and then she saw a couple returning home after a long road trip.


They were found in the morning by a neighbor, she had taken money, ATM cards (she took 1600 dollars from their accounts) and clothes from them. The woman (a slightly obese mid-forties brunette) had only rope marks over her body, her husband had got a beating that sent him to the hospital (but he had already been released from there).


NO ONE had heard of her for the past two days...


And there she was... right next to her.


‘Turn off the TV...’


She obeyed without breaking eye contact.


‘That’s better. I have already used this on your girlfriend who’s now lying on the kitchen floor... But I am afraid that I used too much... So what can I use on you?’


She removed her hand; the knuckles of her hands were both with blood stains, NOT her blood. And her features, cold, impersonal, with the scar under the right eye...


Not that she was ugly, she was downright SCARY!!!!


‘I made you a question; DON’T make me repeat it...’


‘Th-th-there’s a bag... a large bag which is now by the front door. There’s plenty of coils of rope and scarves inside it. Plenty of both... and o-o-other stuff...’


‘So you and your friend are hot lezzie chicks who are also into bondage?’


She didn’t answer that question, stuck between what she could and what she should answer, and got a savage slap on her left cheek because of it.


‘Answer me.’


‘N-no, I mean... we’re just f-friends... we just wanted to... to...’


‘Try some kinky stuff? OK, come with me...’


And with a painful grip on the girl’s right wrist, kept behind her back, the fugitive led her back to the kitchen after she grabbed the bag...






There! Oh boy! For a moment she almost felt like she was trapped for good!


She had spent the past five minutes sitting on the cold floor while finishing to undo all the knots those two lovely bimbos had placed on her... and it was with very shaky legs that she stood up hesitantly. But she was totally free now! Time to grab the girls!


She placed her hand on the wall and touched all over, in the dark, until she reached the hidden button that would open the fake wall at its left. But first...


She crouched and grabbed some of the coils of rope on the floor, to have something to bind Sherylynn and Rosalynn’s bodies when she pounced on them...






Herb was extending his right hand, to grab the money in Allen’s hand when he saw it.


The alarm.


He had jumped a bit too much, among other things, when Mychelle had managed to free herself totally. And now he had the whole pack of ‘conspirators’ between him and the monitors and computers... He passed through them as if he was a raging bull. At first there were some complaints, but then all men saw the red alerts (whose sound alarms they had turned ‘off’ to better cheer for the two busty captoresses), and they jumped after him.


There was a fourth person in the house with Mychelle, Rosalynn (her name was actually Sandra) and Sherylynn (Maeve), and when they turned the cameras back on they got the worst shock of their lives! Denise Fyffe! And she was cinching the knots on the ropes forcing Rosalynn/Sandra’s chin to touch her knees! And Sherylynn/Maeve was a few feet at their left turned into a tight taped package!


The panic button was hit and they all got their guns with them before they ran to the house. When they reached it they split in two groups: Allen, Carter went to the front while Porter and Herb took the back, Knox stood behind to coordinate the whole thing while all available security men/women were contacted. Since there was no one interested in looking outside the houses they were ‘staying’ at the moment, and the ones who wanted to do that had a very specific house as their target, the whole fuss was totally ignored by the other clients of ‘Desire Inc.’ and the policemen on the stake out on the upper street.






It all happened at the same time. Denise finished the job of tying the now stripped naked brunette with satisfaction, she loved when they grunted in pain!, and stood up. Damn!


Tying those two ********** had turned her mouth dry!


So she went to the sink and filled a glass with water, after she removed the tape from over the girls’ eyes (she basked in their shock)... and saw the wall of the hallway opening as if there was a hidden room somewhere along its way. She hid behind the door of the kitchen with her gun ready. And saw two shadows coming to the back door...


Mychelle emerged into the hallway cautiously after she checked and double-checked if, by any chance, she had been unlucky enough to have opened the door of the hidden room with either Sherylynn or Rosalynn passing through it at the moment.


Nope. But there was something odd in the atmosphere... the sounds from her left were simply atrocious... but the ones from her right put her on alert.


Gagged mewls?


And then she saw the two men, wearing casual clothes but holding mean looking guns.  They saw her and motioned for her to walk towards them. Instead she turned to the kitchen and run in that direction, with the pair of former military in tow, and first saw Rosalynn bound in such a harsh way that it was fairly obvious that the blood circulation on her arms had been severely prejudiced. The brunette, lying on her side with her back to her former captive, didn’t saw her, but Sherylynn could and became too agitated.


Which made Denise realize that there was indeed someone coming to the kitchen, and she tried to close the door. But then this naked black woman, with obvious signs of having been tied up until very recently all over her body, forced her way in and closed the door for her. She grabbed a chair to use it to block the door.


‘HELP!’ – The unknown black woman screamed at her. Denise decided to play along...


‘How many?’ – She said as she prepared herself to grab the black woman and use her as a shield. The door of the kitchen was opening now...


‘Four men! All former military guys heavily trained and even more heavily armed... Oh, thank god you tied up those two ****! You won’t believe in what they have done to me! I have been their prisoner for the past... Oh my god! They’re coming!’


Neither Rosalynn nor Sherylynn knew what Mychelle was trying to pull, but then they saw Denise grabbing Mychelle with one hand... and being sent airborne around Mychelle’s body with a perfect utsuri-goshi! And Mychelle wasn’t over!


She fell on the floor like one of those guys from WWE (that both girls loved to watch to laugh at the fighters) with her left elbow landing painfully in the middle of Denise’s belly, quickly followed by her right knee ‘meeting’ Denise’s chin.


And now Mychelle was kneeling on the floor with Denise’s body in between her knees, and delivering blow after blow on the... now unconscious criminal.


When she realized that the woman... Denise Fyffe? What the **** was the country’s most wanted woman doing in the house where she was supposed to enjoy a weekend in private?

But when she realized that Denise was down and out Mychelle stopped and looked around.

Four guys were standing beside her with their mouths wide open, and then she saw the two girls’ horribly tied/taped up bodies...


She stood up, totally ignored the men and crouched by the girls, starting to undo the ropes in Rosalynn’s body while barking orders that were followed in the next minutes...






Both Sandra and Maeve were sent, in two different cars with the female bodyguards as escorts, to a clinic run by a friend of the sisters who owned ‘Desires Inc.’.


Denise’s bruised body was found around noon by a rookie cop after somebody, never identified, complained about ‘two big and burly mean looking men’ leaving a vacant house (in the other of the town) through its back. The forensics tore the place down and found no indication whatsoever of who had put her there.


She never told anyone how she got the beating she suffered. But she wanted revenge, craved for it, and tried two times to escape just so she could meet ‘that ****** *******’ again. When the authorities learned about it they thought that she was talking about a man.


When she was told that she would not be able to go to wherever the girls had been sent to, Mychelle demanded to be sent back home, which was done after clothes were provided to her. Hours later, after both Calhoun sisters (who had created Desires Inc. from nothing) had been warned of the whole debacle and (after a quick and heated conversation with their head of security) decided that Kathleen would be the one to talk to Mychelle, and thirty minutes later she called her baby sister to tell her about the meeting that she had just booked with Mychelle, but since she was in Munich at the moment...






‘Can I really keep it?’


‘Sure...’ - she sighed... As if she had a choice!


The pen drive in Mychelle’s right hand, which she was now putting inside her purse, had all the footage of the brief pummeling she had applied over Denise’s body. The conversation had been polite, albeit a little cold and had dealt with all the aftermath of the ‘incident’.


All the men that had decided to bet on her skills, and had paid more attention to her than in the other screens of the security room, would be fired without letters of recommendation for any of them. Nothing would happen to the other security men and women in and around the lane at the time, but there would be an upgrading in all monitoring and security tech in all the places used by the clients of ‘Desires Inc.’ in order to avoid any form of ‘interference’ in the future. But Mychelle had two demands, one was the footage...


‘And the second demand?’


‘Well... it’s like this. I have enjoyed your services for years... I loved and cherished every single moment of it. But I want to change, to do things differently and... Can I be honest?’




‘I was hoping that this whole situation could make my idea a little more ‘salable’...’


‘Depends on what is that idea of yours, of course...’


‘Weeeeeeeell. I live in an estate a bit away from town. Imagine a guy receiving a legitimate ‘hacienda’ from his late whatever and trying to turn it into a Victorian styled country manor... that’s what happened to the place in the last quarter of the XIX Century. And then, the guy’s son or grandson hired a firm to, shall I say... ‘Redecorate’ the place for his needs... of the sexual kind. Of the sexual and devious and kinky kind.’


‘Okay... I take it’s not a beautiful place?’


‘Oh, it is... ‘unique’, a bit creepy at night and full of atmosphere that the ‘redecoration’ just enhanced. Do you want to know the name of the firm who was in charge of it?’


Not sure where it would end she just nodded at her client.


‘It’s ‘Echesberg & Son’... have you heard of it?’








‘OH ***!!!!’


But there was nothing she could do. The cloth was being pressed against her face and just a whiff of that was enough to make her legs turn into jelly, two would deprive her arms of any strength and three... well three were more than enough to render her totally docile and limp. And she had taken two... three?... good lungfuls since surprising attack!


What was that stuff anyway?


No one, not even the Calhouns, knew the answer. But it was with ‘that’ mixture that her now captor had managed to be so successful in her latest games. A half ‘Scooby Doo’ / half ‘Sorority House’ fantasy. Four to six girls, always scantily clad (usually string bikinis with thongs, like now, but sometimes it was ‘the day of the see-through’ or ‘the night of the lacy lingerie’), that for any reason the devious imagination of Ms. Horn might had were gathered and had to wander around for like one hour. The place was huge, very huge, with like thirty or more rooms!, and they had to be as far away from the others as possible.


After one hour one of them would disappear and it would up to the others to find their ‘missing friend’ (as soon as the hour was up they had used the walkie-talkies, and Rhonda had been the ‘winner’), unless... they were found first by whoever was Mychelle’s (or whoever she hired as her assistant this time) persona for this fantasy...


Her arms and legs had been already zip-tied now, four for her legs and four for her arms (plus two to trap them to her torso, those were the biggest ones and ended up in an ‘8’ shape due to the way they were used), and a simple (and not very wide or thick) white strip of cloth was used as a gag (and purposely ineffective as one, but as soon as she got her strength back...). Lastly she was effectively blindfolded with something made of leather.


And off she went, dangling from the other woman’s right shoulder and being carried by her through the maze of secret passages (!) of the place! Sooner than she thought she reached one of the three hidden spiral staircases of the place, but with the usual extra care of her captor (that did NOT meant ‘slippery’ hands!) she was now in the ‘hidden’ dungeon, being placed over one of its stony (for real!) ‘tables’.


And she was not alone in there. She was there too!


After that mysterious incident that had cost the careers of those two gals, the newbie Maeve and that bitch Sandra (but had also granted them a lot of money and a confidentiality deal), the Calhouns and Ms. Horn had struck a deal that had left all the girls working for the sisters very curious, to say the least! ‘Mycha’ or ‘Mykki’ (for the very few she allowed to call her that) was one of their favorite ‘victims’ (even being very devious and ‘revengeful’) and, suddenly, for a whole semester!, she didn’t booked any fantasy!


Then there was the three ‘tests’, she took part of the second one (in which she learned about the fame of that father & son architecture firm), and after that the Calhouns gave their blessing to her idea. To put it simple, she (and the others) was ‘invited’ for a full weekend of fun at Mychelle’s estate... that could be turned into a ‘nightmarish’ experience for the ‘poor girls’ at any moment, or would fall into one of her ‘scripts’.


In the first case she could be sleeping in one of the (extremely comfortable) beds of the place and awake in the middle of the night already gagged and being tied up (it had happened twice already), or this could happen when they were eating and found out that the food was drugged or the likes (once) or... she knew that there were alternatives, but the girls who had been subjected to them were forbidden by their contracts to tell anyone about it.


In the second case, the girls would accidentally ‘stumble’ on a cliché. From a ‘mad doctor’s experiments with women’ to being ‘crated’ for a slave market... Anything could happen.


All done with moderate realism (she had shown them once where she stashed the stuff she used to grant her fantasies some ‘proper ambient’, and to all girls who were with her the common idea was that Mychelle must have spent months – or even years looting – studios all over Hollywood!), save for the multiple tying-ups of course.


She was spending a lot with those weekends!


Which explained why, instead of the twice a month routine of the previous years, she only had it once in every month and a half, and sometimes even once every two months!


The blindfold was removed after they cut all the zip-ties and replaced them with rope. And it was really her... Cora...? Cora-something, a vixen brunette (though she wasn’t sure if that was her real color) that could easily be working for the Calhouns, instead she was the ‘lab assistant’, the ‘witch apprentice’, the ‘other escaped convict’... even a ‘crooked lawyer (out to get rid of the poor and helpless heiresses)’ she had played once!


And now the maniac was... mummifying her?




Cora-something stopped right away and gave passage to Mychelle.


She couldn’t decide which one of her two captors looked the most ridiculous with that ‘modern Ancient Egyptian’ look they were wearing (the tiaras were incredibly silly! And was that actually linen?). The torpor was still overwhelmingly present, but at least she had some strength back in her legs (that were almost completely covered in ‘linen’).


‘Are you all right, Jessie?’


She blinked with both eyes, if she wasn’t feeling well she would only blink with the left eye as the simple code Mychelle had developed demanded.


‘Okay... here’s the deal. You were the before the last one, now only Helen is wandering free above us, and in less than thirty minutes all five of you will be my (partially mummified) captives, each one in a room of my humble house. The cameras will then record my treats against each and all of you: That as soon as I return I will finish mummifying you all, then you’ll be crated and shipped to my out of the country estate. But, alas, I and Coraline have ‘urgent matters’ to attend somewhere else. Of course we will stay here, monitoring ALL of you with the cameras and sensors and if ANY of you have any trouble, or potential trouble, this fantasy of mine is off automatically. So it will be up to all of you to hop or worm your way to out of wherever you are ‘left’ by me, in your case it will be a guest room, until you find another gal and both of you untie the other. We have removed everything that could be used to cut your bonds, and don’t even think about breaking a vase or something else!, and the knots that will hold your body trapped will be out of reach of your fingers. So your only hope to ‘find back your freedom’ is to find another girl. You will have four hours to do that, and in case you manage to free another girl, while bound, you’ll get 50% of bonus. If you free a girl while already freed of your bonds it will be just 25%. If all of you manage to get untied then it’s 10% more for each girl. And if any revenge plans you girls concoct against me or Coraline is successful, I’ll double whatever is the sum each and all of you have already earned for themselves. But... if this ‘revenge plan’ fails... If we manage to recapture all of you… then all bonuses are cancelled, all of you will get a full mummification (just the eyes will be left on sight) before dinner and you’ll get your contracted pay AND Coraline gets all of you as her models for tomorrow, a full day of multiple damsels photo-shoots! Deal?’


Coraline was crazy, dangerous and, if the rumors were right, also the gal that had actually robbed Julie (a former model/actress of the Desires Inc.) the last year (although obviously there were just rumors about it, probably it was just a coincidence that the burglar was a vixen). She was trouble! But she never mistreated any girl (the ropes and such were tight but no problem for the blood circulation, and there was no verbal abuse of any kind, and a lot of other things that mattered), always gave a good massage after she was done and... if the tables were turned (only Carissa and Chantelle had managed to do that), she was a good sport. So she simply closed both eyes. When she reopened them Mychelle was gone.


‘Unlike you and the others, she decided that Helen will be captured and left wherever she is now... Like I would tell you that! Or where the others are stashed!... So my job is to ‘prepare’, ‘threaten’ and ‘transport’ you for your ‘role’ in the following hours. You are only allowed to start your bid for freedom when you hear the phones ringing. Ready?’


She could nod now. Coraline said ‘Bubbles’ and pressed a button, ten seconds later (when the cameras restarted to record her plight from three different angles at least) she started to speak with a weird, and almost unintelligible, accent as she used her dreaded skills.


Sixteen minutes later she was done, and Angelique’s (née Belinda) arms were snuggly held behind her back (each wrist neatly anchored to the opposite elbow), her legs (right below her almost exposed buttocks to her ankles) were now completely covered in the white thing (it wasn’t linen, or was it?), the blue bikini top gone and she was gagged and blindfolded by the white thing (the blindfold would be removed, with a ‘maniacal laughter’, as soon as they left the hidden places of the manor, since the girls were not supposed to know any of the many entrances of them). A triumphant Coraline was panting at her right.


‘Bubbles.’ - Seconds later Mychelle, always faster than any of her assistants when it came to ‘prepare’ the girls, was back, this time at her left... no, behind her, with her hands holding her head carefully and gently – ‘You sure you can handle like this for a few hours?’


She nodded.


‘Alright, we will take you to where you’re supposed to be and you will have to wait ten minutes before I ring the phone in your room. All phones in this house will ring at once, so you and the other girls will know that it’s time to ‘escape’, good luck my dear...’


And then she said ‘Bubbles’ one last time.


And went straight into this new ‘crazy Egyptologist’ mode, or whatever...








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