Captured yet again

5:14 pm

The hotel room door bursts open; your tongue is too deep in Blossom's tunnel to react.

"NO YOU DON'T!"

You feel a familiar dart hitting your bum.

6:08 pm

You're in macramé hell. Hundreds of little knots connect the strings that bind you tighter than too-small panties, to the point where it's agonizingly painful. There's a square wooden post at your back that you're attached to at several dozen points; the corner of the square is directly in your back and pressed firmly into your ass crack . The only body part you can freely move is your head, but there is a cylinder gag in your mouth. There's a huge pile of red and orange feather duster fluff all around your feet.

You look around; you're in that gym again. Blossom is in front of you, doubled over one of a pair of parallel bars in a folded spread-eagle. The flagpole with the little American flag has to be sticking out of her veejay, though you can't see clearly enough to be sure. A strap harness surrounds her chest and her boobs are tightly tied into little pendulums. The thin cord that binds them goes up guitar-string tight to a peg sticking out of her ass. A pair of metal cups on her nipples are connected by wires to a machine on the floor and her lips are currently over the head of a strap-on attached to the same machine.

A hand slaps you on the bum, and then again. Strings at several points on your dig in when the deformation of your cheek pulls them.

"I know you're awake, Naughty-Girl. You've been very, very bad this time."

"Mlf mm vvt vm mee!"

Trixie walks out in front of you. "No, I won't let you out. But I will give you a choice. Do you want to be abused yourself, or do you want to watch me **** your little sidekick Wink?"

"Wlff? Rw oo low?"

"How'd I know? I had your house bugged, dummy. And there's no way you'll ever find the microphones."

Three in the bedroom, one in the front hall, and spy cameras with sound pickup in the bathroom and the overhead light fixtures in your and your mother's rooms.

Thanks, CB. You could have told me sooner.

I would have, if you had attempted to divulge sensitive information in any of those locations.

"Now, Naughty-Girl, which is it going to be? Nudge?" she wiggles the knot pressing into your left nipple, "or Wink?" she takes a step over and flicks the flagpole, causing 'Wink' to let out a little moan.

Wow, she is predictable.

As you surmised, Nudge.

"Gie; gorgr gie."

"Wow, you are predictable. That's what makes heroes so dumb; they always want to sacrifice themselves. Well, Nudgie the caged budgie, I'm going to grant your wish, sort of. First this."

She leans down and flips a switch on the machine. Wink jumps and squeaks, then the artificial cock starts pushing back and forth in her mouth. Finally she twangs the guitar string, which elicits a moaning grunt. She turns back to you.

"And now to grant your wish. Have you ever heard of a hyperaesthetic?"

You look blankly at her.

"It's like an anaesthetic, only instead of making things numb it makes them really sensitive. The reason I'm mentioning this is that I shot you with one while you were out from the other dart. Who knew you were such a **** abuser? But you should be starting to feel its effects already. Are you feeling a little more tightness and rubbing?"

You are; the strings feel like they're pulling even tighter, and even slight motions make the strings move like fuzzy little brushes all over the skin.

"Mo."

"You liar. Let me show how much of a lying little liar you are." She bends down and traces a finger up the bottom of your foot. You reflexively pull back, which sends little touches and tickles and agonies all up and down your body. As soon as you're kind of stable again she flips a switch on the side of the fake ring of stones around your feet. The feathers start dancing up and down against your feet and shins. The tickling sensation is rapidly approaching unbearable.

"Nnnh! Ngee!"

"Do you like it? I was going to burn you at the stake, but fire is so permanent. This is a lot more fun."

Trixie sticks a hand into her bottoms and gives a couple of short rubs that cause cunt-fluid to drip out the edges of her costume and down her inner thighs. Your whole body is screaming and squealing at the mix of reflex and pleasure; you can easily understand why tickling was a form of **** in the Middle Ages.

"That's nice, but I want something more exotic. I know!"

She pulls down her panties and drops them at her feet. With a quick leap she's up onto the other parallel bar. With astonishing dexterity she swings back and forth, then does a handstand up so she's full frontal upside-down. Trixie's inverted split looks like it's just showing off, but then she gently lowers herself onto Wink's crotch. When she pulls back up she's holding the flagpole and the sizeable dildo it was attached to in her cunt-lips. A flick of muscles makes it fall away, and then she lowers herself so she's crotch-to-crotch with Wink and starts rubbing. She's staring down at Wink's face and you can almost hear her licking her lips.

Perfect, you think, just according to plan.