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About Deviant Core Member Thomas SilkMale/United States Group :iconbondagemaids: BondageMaids
Bound and ready for service!
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Deviant for 7 Years
6 Month Core Membership
Statistics 541 Deviations 4,562 Comments 461,090 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

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Taken!! But Why??? Chapters 3 - 7 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 7 14
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Angela Morris, PI - The 49 Club - Chapters 34-39 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 2 2
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Taken!! But Why??? Chapters 1 and 2 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 22 25
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Angela Morris, PI - The 49 Club - Chapters 28-33 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 7 8
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Angela Morris, PI - The 49 Club - Chapters 23-27 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 7 2
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Angela Morris, PI - The 49 Club - Chapters 18-22 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 11 3
Julie Ties Allanah With Pantyhose by knottysilkscarf
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Heroines and Villains On a Wall by knottysilkscarf Heroines and Villains On a Wall :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 20 20
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Ladies of The Ranch - Ginger and Dale by knottysilkscarf
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Ladies of The Ranch - Ginger and Dale :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 16 4
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Angela Morris, PI - The 49 Club - Chapters 7-11 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 8 6
Cover Illustration for Angela Morris - The 49 Club by knottysilkscarf
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Cover Illustration for Angela Morris - The 49 Club :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 26 2
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Angela Morris, PI - The 49 Club - Chapters 1-6 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 16 6
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Lady Spies and the Revenge Affair - Conclusion :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 9 7
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Lady Spies and the Revenge Affair - Chapters 46-49 :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 8 6
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A Different Type of Robbery :iconknottysilkscarf:knottysilkscarf 14 6

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Critiques


I'm going to add my two cents on your image (and the other one in this series). Clearly, you know what you are doing as far as the tech...


I really like this. You have told a story in one picture. The woman is clearly a high-ranking woman based on her dress and none to happ...


I really like this. It is my type of bondage drawing...it tells a story and a dramatic one. Things I really like. I like the shading th...


It is always dangerous to write a critique...so I never write one when I don't like the artwork. So I really like this art. That doesn'...

In 'Taken!! But Why???' MadokaKawabata's alter ego Maddie has been abducted, what do you think will or should happen to her? Note: This poll will have no bearing on the outcome of the story. 

31%
21 deviants said Left where she is, helplessly bound and gagged - but no one knows where that is.
22%
15 deviants said Sold as a sex slave.
15%
10 deviants said Arrested for the robbery at the boutique - Mrs. Potter's revenge.
10%
7 deviants said Taken out to the ocean and given a midnight swim (with weights).
7%
5 deviants said Released by her captors after much distress.
6%
4 deviants said Found by the police...in time or not?
4%
3 deviants said Her fate should not be revealed...a mystery. Stories like 'Whatever happened to Maddie' will be seen on TV.
3%
2 deviants said Rescued by one or both of her friends?
0%
No deviants said Released unharmed.
I am not against artists making money so please don't send hate mail.  Having said that, there are some truths that artists joining Patreon should understand.  

Please note:  I have NOTHING against Patreon and admittedly I don't know what the financial arrangements are except that I assume that Patreon takes a portion of the money that an artist brings in.

"Everyone is doing it"



Is that a good thing...not for the artist.  Basically, the artist is setting up a mini-pay website.  The internet seems like an endless source of potential money.  It isn't.  There is a limited amount of money out there to be spent on fetish stuff.  That was/is certainly the case with bondage (photography).  Oh, some producers have done well, even to this day, but the internet road is lined with the remains of bondage companies who were finally overtaken by the wave of free bondage material available and an over-saturated market.  [That includes my company.]

At some point a lot of the artists on Patreon will either leave or their accounts will become inactive due to the competition.  It will happen.

The Artist is Going to Have to Change Their Lifestyle



Don't think so?  There is no more - I don't feel in the mood or I need to take a break.  The artist is now running a pay site.  I did it for 15 years, updating once a week - when I was sick, when I was out-of-town, when I had company visiting, just like the mail, the artist HAS TO deliver.  When my wife and I went on vacation in the beginning (early 2000's) getting on the internet was both difficult and could be very expensive, particularly if you were overseas.  Still we did what we had to do to update the site.  People were paying us money which meant we had an obligation.   The pressure for the artist to update their material will never end.

And, the pressure will likely increase.  Why don't you post as much as this other artist?  Why don't you post more often?  Questions like that will pop up.

The artist is now competing for money with every other fetish artist on Patreon, every other artist that has their own pay site and in some ways every fetish site on the internet.  If the artist doesn't produce and produce frequently enough, people will leave and take their money elsewhere.

Oh, and now you have to advertise because people will leave and you need to replace them.

Some artists will be able to deal with this constant pressure, others will not.

Welcome to the REAL World



The artist, by going on Patreon, has entered the real world of internet pirates and other low-lives.  When an artist only did commissions and/or posted stuff for free, there was no threat of anyone stealing anything.  Now, the artist has created value by having people pay for their work.  Most clients are great, but some will take your material and will repost it without your permission - because it now has value and they think it should be free (apparently).  You have to learn to live with that.  At least for me, it felt like someone coming into my house and stealing my valuables.  It was a violation, like being robbed.  And there is little the artist can do about it really.  Some of these people will claim to be doing 'advertising' for the artist - they are not.

Every possible way that the small minority can steal your material will be used...posting passwords (I assume Patreon has something like that) on sites so other people can use them, etc.

Then the artist will have clients that will only sign up for a minimum period every year to download all of the artist's work for a minimum cost.


So What Can Be Done?



Absolutely nothing,  Either an artist can deal with the pressures, the stealing, and the constant work or they won't be able to and will soon fade into history or back to DA.  Also, the artist will find out how good their work really is - I suspect that many will find that a lot of people that rave about their work on DA are unwilling to actually pay money to see it. 

I wish artists that go to Patreon all the best.  I will miss your work.

Comments welcome...


Copyright 2018


 
  • Listening to: Rolling Stones
  • Reading: Bondage Stories on DA
  • Watching: Nothing right now...
  • Eating: Censored
  • Drinking: Also Censored

deviantID

knottysilkscarf's Profile Picture
knottysilkscarf
Thomas Silk
United States
My profile picture is not of me...it is what I do. I am the producer of Knotty Silk Scarf Productions (knottysilkscarf.com and silencedladies.com). I specialize in bondage videos, video clips, and photo stories. I also write bondage stories. The focus is on scarf, scarf & rope and pantyhose bondage. I also promote scarf fashion for women.


If you want to chat, send me a note.
Interests

Activity


In 'Taken!! But Why???' MadokaKawabata's alter ego Maddie has been abducted, what do you think will or should happen to her? Note: This poll will have no bearing on the outcome of the story.
31%
21 deviants said Left where she is, helplessly bound and gagged - but no one knows where that is.
22%
15 deviants said Sold as a sex slave.
15%
10 deviants said Arrested for the robbery at the boutique - Mrs. Potter's revenge.
10%
7 deviants said Taken out to the ocean and given a midnight swim (with weights).
7%
5 deviants said Released by her captors after much distress.
6%
4 deviants said Found by the police...in time or not?
4%
3 deviants said Her fate should not be revealed...a mystery. Stories like 'Whatever happened to Maddie' will be seen on TV.
3%
2 deviants said Rescued by one or both of her friends?
0%
No deviants said Released unharmed.

Mature Content

This content is intended for mature audiences.


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This story is a fetish bondage story, which includes non-consensual sexual acts. If such things bother you, please don't read it. It is tongue-in-cheek fiction. The author would not wish these things to happen to anyone, male or female, in real life.  

Also, please note that no DA members or their OCs were harmed in the writing of this story.


Thomas Silk



Copyright 2018 Knotty Silk Scarf Productions


Chapter 3 – Where the Heck Am I?



Julie had been awake for hours.  She remembered the woman with the large sunglasses and the headscarf.  She remembered the pain in the back of her head.  The woman must've hit her with something.  She vaguely remembered being tied up and hearing people talk.  But it was the threat on Maddie's life that she remembered the most.  If she reported, what she assumed to be a robbery, before Tuesday morning, Maddie would be killed.  Julie wondered if they had kidnapped Maddie.  Or had they robbed the boutique?  Who robbed a boutique anyway?

Her head was still sore, although thankfully the pounding pain had receded.  Now it was just a dull ache.  Her body also ached from being in the same position for hours.  She was tied up in a ball, with her hands under her knees.  But she couldn't move at all, which puzzled her.  She seemed to be secured to something above her, but she couldn't figure out what it was and she certainly couldn't reach whatever was holding her there.  Julie had heard that some guys got turned on by seeing a woman all tied up and struggling.  Well, she was all tied up, but struggling was out of the question.  Unfortunately, there were no guys to see her and get turned on, let alone rescue her.

Julie didn't understand why she was wearing a headscarf.  She liked to wear them as much as the next girl.  They could be very functional and some of them were very pretty.  But this one was tied very tightly under her chin, much more tightly than a girl would tie one – and Julie knew some girls who tied headscarves tightly, including herself, if truth be told.  The woman who had tied the scarf on her – and it had to be a woman who did it – had also pulled the ends and tied them at the back of her neck - how Grace Kelly sometimes tied her headscarf.  It was a way to encase a girl's hair, often used when riding in a convertible.  As Julie tried to adjust her position, she could feel that the scarf had been attached to her hair, probably using bobby pins.  But why?  Then she had figured it out.  It would be all but impossible for her to dislodge her gag and blindfold.  Damn, they really wanted her to stay like this for a long time.

Julie could tell that her entire head was encased in silk.  She liked the feel of silk, but not in this situation.  There was a new silk scarf tied over her eyes – probably from the boutique's collection.  She could tell by its smell – scarves had a certain clean smell when they were new.  After a woman wore them for any length of time, they picked up the scent of the woman – her perfume or perhaps her hairspray.  This scarf and the one tightly tied over her mouth were both from the boutique.  Julie could also feel the tightly tied scarf between her teeth.  It was now soaked, as was the silky wad in her mouth.  She suspected that scarf tied in her mouth was the one she had been wearing in her hair.  It was designed to keep the wad secured in her mouth, she supposed.  The thin silk bit into the corners of her mouth, pulling them back.  The large and thick scarf tied over her mouth ensured that she would never make enough noise to alert anyone to her precarious situation.

That is not to say that Julie didn't try screaming.  She did.  Often.  It was a compulsion to try even though she realized it was wasted effort.  It was when she tried to scream that she realized that she couldn't hear anything.  The bitch had put something in her ears.  She couldn't hear the seagulls, which always made a racket during the day.  When it was quiet, she should have be able to hear the ocean.  But all there was was eerie silence.

Julie had figured out that the silky wad in her mouth was not a silk scarf.  Her tongue had explored the wad, more as a compulsion than a designed plan to find out what was actually in her mouth.  The fact was that she really didn't want to know what was in her mouth.  Whatever it was had a disgusting flavor and she instinctively suspected the source.  But her tongue explored.  It felt the elastic band and the label.  The holes for the legs were also obvious, at least one of them was.  And the flavor had to be… No, she didn't want to think about that.  She knew that she wasn't wearing any panties, but these weren't her panties.  Somehow she just knew that.  Did they belong to the woman who hit her?  That would be very humiliating, but somehow she doubted that this woman crook would give up a pair of satin panties.  Then it dawned on Julie and she almost threw up.  They had to be Maddie's panties.  She continued to retch until finally she was able to control her reaction.  Somehow having her coworker's panties in her mouth was the most humiliating thing she could think of.  So what happened to her panties?  She retched again, realizing where they probably were.  This had to be the woman's doing.

Julie had no idea how long she'd been tied up like this.  It must've been hours – many hours.  Julie decided that she really didn't like being a damsel in distress.  Strangely, it wasn't because of the ropes or gag or even the blindfold or the plugged ears.  No, it was because she had to pee, badly.  Julie knew she would be fired for sure if she peed on the boutique's carpet.  Mrs. Potter, the owner of the boutique and her boss, wouldn't care that she had been bound and gagged for hours, only that she had messed up the boutique.

Chapter 4 – A Diamond in the Rough



Marissa walked from the parking lot to the nondescript building.  She punched in the code on what then was a sophisticated lock and turned the door handle.  She was supposed to wait for guard to punch in the code, but as a section leader, she knew the access code to the building.  Being a section leader meant very little, a little more responsibility, but no additional pay.  She was met by one of the two guards, both women.  Trudy was assigned the inside duty today.  She was likable enough for an overbearing, self-important storm trooper.  Trudy punched in the code so the alarm would not go off after 15 seconds.  Marissa knew the code, but let the guard do her job.

"Where the hell is Rita?"  Trudy asked and Marissa shrugged her shoulders.  Apparently, Rita was the outside guard today.

Marissa took off her coat and a hat that she had pinned to her wavy brunette hair.  She was in the required clothes – a sleeveless blouse and tight cotton skirt.  If the company had their way, the only thing the girls would be allowed to wear would be bras and panties.  Marissa put on the required cotton gloves as Trudy ushered her into the work room.  There were several other girls there – Marissa was late, as usual.  Damn, she hated Mondays, particularly Monday mornings.  The only saving grace was that Marissa would get to have lunch with Maddie today, her best friend – they were almost like sisters, in some ways closer than sisters.  Of course, Marissa had to beg for her lunch break to be outside the building, but it was worth the groveling.

Marissa looked at the work room.  Each workstation had special eyepieces and a microscope.  She had been told that the scales at each workstation cost more than what she made in an entire year because of the need for accurate weights.  Then there were pans of a girl's best friend, thousands of them.  Some were not particularly high quality.  In fact, some were considered industrial grade.  They had all been sorted in a preliminary manner.  It was the girl's task to do the 'final' grading.  For those given the top five ratings, Marissa's grading would of course be checked by a man, because those diamonds were the cream of the crop.  Some of the stones were probably worth thousands of dollars, Marissa had no idea.  The company bosses, all men, like to keep the girls in the dark about the value of the stones.  The reason that they had female guards was because each of the eight girls were searched, including their bras and panties, for hidden diamonds that they might try to sneak out of the building.  It was a demeaning job, but one that required a lot of skill.

The other part of the job that was demeaning was the pay.  If a man had been doing this work, grading diamonds, he would've been paid 10 times what Marissa and her coworkers were paid.  Perhaps someday women would get paid the same amount as the man, but Marissa figured that was decades away, if it ever happened.  The fact was that the company bosses wanted to make as much profit as possible.  Paying a small wage to a woman who needed the job made a lot of sense to them.

Of course, the company was concerned about being robbed.  There were thousands of dollars worth of diamonds on the premises.  The more expensive stones were In a large vault, which is only open during the day.  Inside, there was a silent alarm went to the police.   It was armed and disarmed using the same keypad that was used for the door alarm.  There was also a large bell on top of the building, which could wake up the dead.  It was on a totally different circuit and would trigger even if the main alarm had been termed off, if one of the five panic buttons were hit.  The only time the main alarm was turned off was when someone was entering or exiting the building, and then only for 15 seconds.  Of course, there were also the armed guards.  A male guard was always on duty when the women were not working.  During working hours, there was either a male or female guard outside and always a female guard inside.  The eight girls that graded the diamonds were constantly being watched.  That gave Marissa creepy feeling, but she needed job.

The company's ace in the hole, sort to speak, was that the building was not advertised anyplace.  There were no signs on the building.  The company was not listed in the phone book and when they hired people, mostly the women, the job applicants didn't know what they were going to do until they were hired.  Then they had to sign a nondisclosure agreement, not to talk about the company outside of work.  Secrecy was very important to the company.  Having said that, most people in the coastal town knew about the company and the diamonds.  They knew that the company distributed diamonds to jewelers in California and beyond.  Oh, there were other sources of diamonds, of course.  But the company kept its costs low enough, with the cheap labor, to make them one of the biggest distributors of diamonds in the country.

As Marissa sat down to start working, she saw that the massive vault was open.  One of the bosses had come early this morning to open the large safe.  Marissa usually worked on the higher end stones, which made the job somewhat more bearable.  She knew more about diamonds than many diamond dealers.

Chapter 5 – All Tied Up and No Place to Go



Margaret and Greg Sims were small time criminals that had figured out how to go to the big time.  They both had factory jobs until the plant in their Midwestern to town had closed down.  They had come out West with the hope of making a new start.  When Greg couldn't find a job and Margaret found that she really didn't want to work 9-to-5, they stumbled onto a new career, as con artists.  They found that it was easy to cheat people out of their money because people were greedy.  It was easy to use that against them.

They expanded their criminal career when one of their marks, a 41-year-old woman who they were just about to finish scamming, decided to tell them that she was about to call the police.  Now normally, a con artist would simply run away.  But they had invested a lot of time on this particular scam and Margaret had no intention of leaving empty-handed.  She had grabbed the woman, clamping a hand over her mouth while telling Greg to go get the clothesline they had seen by the side door of her house.  Within a few minutes, the woman was tied to a chair in her bedroom and she had one of her own headscarves knotted and tied in her mouth.  Not only did they ransack the house, Margaret dressed up in the woman's clothes, put on a wig and headscarf, and withdrew most of her money from the bank.  She also emptied her safety deposit box of jewelry.  All in all, it was a very profitable return on investment, as Margaret put it.  The couple had found that tying up women as part of their crimes was both fun and entertaining for them.  Greg had a very significant sexual reaction, particularly when he fondled the tied up women.  Margaret occasionally let him use one of the women, particularly if they had caused trouble.  Not all their crimes involved taking hostages or robbing people directly.  They still did scams, which were safer, but not as much fun.

It had been Margaret that found out about the diamond company when she had her hair done at the local hair salon.  It was also where she found out about Marissa, who worked there.  Now even a con person can't walk up to somebody and get them to reveal sensitive information about the company they work for.  Well, that isn't totally true, but to get information like that will require establishing a significant relationship and probably would take a lot of time to cultivate.  Margaret was in a hurry.  She felt that the opportunity might slip away.  If you asked too many questions, you might alert the person that you've targeted or worse yet, that person or one of her friends might alert the police.  Greg was more willing to take his time.  They didn't have the leverage to force Marissa to give them the information they needed.  The young woman had no family in the area, no steady boyfriend or anyone else they could threatened.  That was until Margaret heard about Maddie at the salon.  Maddie and Marissa were closer than sisters, according to the scuttlebutt.  They frequently did things together and often were inseparable, except when they were working at their different jobs.  It was Margaret they came up with the plan and so far it had worked brilliantly.

It was now Monday morning – D-Day or as Margaret like to call it, Diamond – Day.  Phase 1 of the plan had gone extremely well.  They had caught Maddie and her coworker, what was her name?  – Oh yeah, Julie, wasn't it?  – They had caught Maddie and Julie flat-footed, unprepared to be attacked like they were.  They were both easy marks.  The boutique was the perfect place to abduct the unsuspecting Maddie.  The only one who would miss her would be Marissa.  But soon, her dear friend would know exactly where she was.  No doubt she had tried to call her last night and been frustrated when the phone just rang and rang.  They had their regular Monday lunch so there was no need for Marissa to worry.  Today's lunch, Marissa would be served an unexpected course.

She looked down at Maddie, who was quite helpless and going in and out of consciousness.  When she was abducted, Maddie was chloroformed.  When they got to their seaside hideout, a vacation home which they had crashed, Greg had carried the bound, gagged, and blindfolded Maddie into the bedroom of the beach house.  Greg would've used the hapless girl then and several times during the night, if she had been conscious, but Margaret made sure that she was in dreamland much of the time.  When she woke up from her chloroform induced sleep early Sunday evening, Margaret had taken her to the toilet so she could relieve herself and had then taken off the gag and had allowed Maddie to indulge in a delicious, but drugged chocolate milkshake.  Their young captive hadn't eaten in hours and was famished.  Within a few minutes, the hapless girl was delirious, much to Greg's dismay.  Of course, he would've used her anyway except Margaret had quickly bound her to the bed.

As Maddie became delirious from the drugged milkshake, Margaret untied her.  Her stocking, panty gag had already been removed.  Margaret wanted to secure her in a way that she was totally helpless, but first she had to add a couple accessories.  She wrung out Julie's panties, which had been used to gag Maddie, and put them on Maddie.  It was to discourage Greg from fucking the hapless woman until after the robbery, but also to further intimidate the young woman.  They still needed Maddie's cooperation and Margaret feared that if he did more than fondle her, that she would rebel.  They needed her submissive, too scared not to do exactly what they told her to do.  Fortunately, the sedative would wear off by morning so Maddie could play her bit part in their scheme.  After that, Greg could do anything he wanted to her, Margaret didn't care.

Margaret put long, elbow length, pink kit gloves on Maddie's arms.  This was not an easy task, but was necessary.  Margaret had picked these up at a secondhand store for next to nothing.  They were more appropriate for an expensive evening out, but Margaret had a more devious purpose for them.  She told Maddie that the reason she was putting them on her arms was to protect her arms from the ropes.  It wasn't obvious whether or not Maddie actually understood what her captor was saying.  She moaned in response.  The real reason for the long gloves was to make it difficult, if not impossible for the young woman to untie any knots she might be able to reach, not that she was going to be able to reach any knots.  Margaret believed in taking no chances.

The next thing that Margaret did was to take two of Greg's clean handkerchiefs, wadded one up and stuff it into Maddie's unresisting mouth and to neatly fold the second one, tying it tightly between her lips.  She then went and got the Polaroid camera that they had stolen from one of their marks.  She slapped Maddie's face a couple times until she opened her eyes and then she took the picture, the flash illuminating the room.  Margaret took five pictures before she was satisfied with the look Maddie gave.  Margaret set the pictures aside to dry.  The pictures were absolutely necessary to convince Marissa to cooperate.

Margaret smiled as she watched Maddie twist and turn as if she was having a nightmare.  She took cord and tied Maddie's ankles together, securing them to the end of the bed.  She then tied her knees together.  Margaret propped Maddie up and tied one of the silk scarves that she had stolen from the boutique over her mouth.  The thick silk would not only muffle any noise that she could make, the scarf would prevent Maddie getting rid of the rest of her gags.  Next came a silk scarf blindfold tightly knotted at the back of her head.  Both the scarf gag and blindfold were knotted and then tied together, the four ends finally tied in the bow.  A large clump of putty was put into each of Maddie's ears to prevent her from hearing what Margaret and Greg talked about.  A final silk headscarf was tied in place to secure the gag and blindfold, tightly knotted under the chin with the ends brought back tied over the apex of the scarf at the back of Maddie's neck.  Like she had done with Julie, the headscarf was secured to Maddie's hair with bobby pins.  Maddie's head looked like a artist palette of colors because of the colorful silk scarves used to encase her head.  Finally, Maddie's arms were extended above her head and bound at the wrists and elbows.  Margaret pulled the hapless girl's arms and secured them to the headboard, stretching her as if she was on the rack.  A soft moan came from Maddie's well gagged mouth when she did this.

When Greg reappeared, he was angry at his partner in crime.  His manhood was aroused and he was looking forward to taking it out on Maddie.  Margaret unbuttoned the captive's blouse and pushed her bra out of the way, inviting Greg to drink in and fondle Maddie's perfectly formed breasts, which he did until he turned his attention to Margaret.  Margaret and Greg made love in the bed next to her captive, who was in a dreamlike state unaware of what was going on around her.  The two kidnappers made love until they fell asleep.

Margaret was up before Greg on this Monday morning, D-Day.  She ran her long nails up Maddie's legs and Maddie squirmed, causing Margaret to laugh.  Clearly, the sedative had worn off.  Margaret touched Maddie in different places and was always amused when she jumped or squirmed at the unexpected touch.  Unfortunately, this game would soon have to and she would have to wake up Greg and get down to business.

Margaret untied Maddie so that she could take her to the bathroom and get her ready for her part in their little melodrama.  After that business was done, the woman untied Maddie's hands and forced her to put on a raincoat.  Maddie was still blindfolded, gagged, and disoriented.  A purse was forced onto her arm.  Her hands were tied in front and to her belt.  The raincoat was buttoned around the cord that secured her hands to her belt.  The fact that her hands were tied would be difficult to see, if not impossible.  It would also appear that Maddie was carrying a purse.  Margaret then tied Maddie's ankles, a necessary precaution for the time being.

She wrapped the cord under the hapless girl's breasts and secured it to the chair.  She wouldn't be able to go anyplace until they wanted her to go someplace.  Margaret removed Maddie's headscarf, tossing it over her own shoulders.  She untied Maddie's multiple layer gag and extracted the soaked handkerchief in her mouth.  Before Maddie could utter a word or scream, Margaret was kissing her full on the mouth, her tongue exploring as she fondled Maddie's well hidden breasts.  She disengage from Maddie and immediately stuffed her mouth with a small man's handkerchief.  Another small handkerchief was tied between her lips.  What it lacked in size, it made up for in tightness, forcing Maddie's lips to wrap around it.

Margaret took off Maddie's scarf blindfold and immediately replaced it with the blackout sunglasses.  She used her fingers to dig out the earplugs that had hardened in place.  Margaret took the scarf that was around her shoulders and tied it over Maddie's head, knotting it under her chin.  It hid the gag perfectly.  She then applied several bobby pins so that there was no chance that the hapless girl could shake the headscarf free.  Margaret went and got a tube of lipstick.  She sat on Maddie's lap, holding her head still and repaired her smeared lipstick.

Margaret got up and smiled.  Maddie was now ready for her close-up.  They could take her outside and no one would know or even suspect that she was a helpless prisoner.  As a precaution, Margaret tied the silk scarf blindfold back in place, over the blackout glasses.  She smiled to herself again.  Her husband could never prepare a woman for her part like she just did, no man could.

Margaret went to the bed where Greg was sleeping.  It was time to wake him up, they had a little time before things were going to get interesting.  Margaret and Greg made love.

Chapter 6 – Not a Dream, a Nightmare



For Maddie, everything that happened during the last 12 hours or so was like a dream.  She didn't know what was real and what was imagined.  At times, she imagined herself bound and gagged on a bed.  At other times, she just thought that she was having a nightmare during a normal night's sleep.  She would try to toss and turn, but something was restricting her movement and she didn't know what it was.  Was she tied up like she imagined in her dream?  Or was it just a dream or nightmare?  Was she in her own bed or was she someone's captive?

The most disturbing part of her reality, whether it was real or a dream, was the fondling of her breasts.  She could feel that and it felt real.  It didn't seem like a dream.  At first it was clearly a woman's hands that squeezed and rubbed her breasts until her pink nipples were hard like little nuts on her sensitive mounds of flesh.  Then it was a man's hands, much rougher.  She could feel his unshaven face that felt like sandpaper move her crossed her breasts as he licked and sucked her tender nipples.  Maddie screamed her disapproval, but the scream was only in her head.  She could hear nothing.  Why was that?  Had she gone deaf?

In her mind she was expecting the worst.  She was expecting to feel him penetrate her.  This had to be a prelude to a sexual assault.  Hell, it was a sexual assaults already.  How could another woman allow this to happen?  Or was she dreaming it?  It all seemed so real.  And then it was over and Maddie drifted off – not to sleep – to unconsciousness.

As the hours went on, her mind would come to the surface, break the water into the air of reality.  Those times were fleeting.  It was as if her mind was being dragged down under the surface by some underwater monster as she desperately struggled to remain alert and awake, but she always failed.  Her mind would go blank once again.

Finally, reality became the norm.  Maddie knew that she was bound and gagged.  She was on a bed stretched out like she was on a medieval rack.  Her head was encased in silk, probably a headscarf.  She was blindfolded and she suspected that her ears had been plugged, but she wasn't sure.  All she knew was that she couldn't hear anything.  She felt hands on her – a woman's hands.  They seemed gentle as her legs were untied.  The woman helped her up and she realized that she desperately needed to use the toilet.  Mandy debated fighting the woman, but saw no benefit in doing so.  They could easily control her and they could hurt her if she misbehaved.  At the moment, Mandy's life didn't seem to be in danger.  She realized that they needed her for something and she was safe until then.

She felt much better after using the toilet, which the woman had to help her with.  Then Maddie was surprised when the woman untied her wrists.  This would be the time to resist, if she was going to resist, but she didn't.  The woman forced her to put on some sort of coat, probably a raincoat.  What must've been a purse straps was forced over her arm.  Before Maddie could think of a plan to gain her freedom, the woman was wrapping cord around her wrists again.  And what did she have on her arms?  It felt like long gloves.  The only time Maddie had ever worn long gloves was during her senior prom at high school.  The gloves were tight and very warm on her arms.  She wondered what the purpose of those were.  There must've been a reason she was being forced to wear them.

She was quickly tied to a chair.  The woman took off the headscarf encasing Maddie's head.  Then she went to work on untying the gag.  There was a rush of the relief as each layer of the gag was removed and finally the wet handkerchief stuffed in her mouth was pulled out.  Maddie coughed and retched as the soaked wad was pulled out of her mouth.  She debated screaming for help, but didn't have the strength or the air in her lungs to do so.  An instant later she felt a female mouth wrapped around her lips and her tongue forcing its way into her mouth.  What the hell was this all about, Maddie wondered.  Her mouth was thoroughly explored by the woman as if she was searching for something hidden deep inside.  When the woman withdrew, Maddie felt a soft cotton handkerchief being forced into her mouth, stifling any chance of crying out.  Then there was what she assumed to be another handkerchief tied tightly between her lips, painfully so.  The corners of her mouth were pulled back and her head forced forward as the woman knotted the gag in place.

Suddenly the blindfold was gone and Maddie got a glimpse of a plain room before the blackout sunglasses were forced over her eyes.  Then she felt fingers at her ears and for the first time in hours sounds bombarded her.  She could hear the ocean, the woman almost giddy with excitement, and a man snoring.  There were also cars going back and forth on the road.  Maddie wished that she could turn down the volume of the noise that now pounded inside her head, but it was good to hear again.  Then she felt the silk scarf being tied over her head, tightly knotted under her chin.  She felt bobby pins securing the headscarf to her hair.

"Excellent!  No one will see your gag, dear," the woman's voice whispered in her ear, “But I think your lipstick needs a major touch up.  I hope you like my color.”  The woman sat on Maddie's lap, holding her head, and applied a fresh and thick layer of lipstick to Maddie's lips.  The woman got off of Maddie's lap and then Maddie felt another silk scarf being tied over her eyes and the blackout glasses – just as a precaution, Maddie assumed.

Maddie did the required testing of her bonds and gag, but could find no weakness so she sat back to wait for what was going to happen.  She had no say at the moment, quite literally, in her own future.  She heard the woman wake up the man and then it was obvious that they were having a round of sex.  Mandy felt she was dressed like her mother, who liked to wear a raincoat and headscarf when she went out to shop.

Mandy heard the woman tell the man in the throws of sex, "After the bitch does what we need her to do, you can fuck her all you want."  That didn't sound good.  

Maddie realized that she was living a nightmare.  

Chapter 7 – The Early Bird Catches the Damsel



It was about 9 AM when Mrs. Potter arrived at the boutique.  She normally did the books and Tuesday, but a friend of hers was coming into town on Tuesday so she decided to her bookkeeping on her day off, Monday.

Mrs. Potter was about 40 years old, relatively short at 5'3", which is why she always wore heels so she looked more like 5'5" tall.  She was thin with hair salon styled brunette hair, swept off her forehead in large waves that were piled high in almost a beehive, which again was designed to make her look taller.  Her hair extended down to her shoulders.  She wore a red silk headscarf, tied under her chin, that matched the skirt, jacket, and shoes she was wearing.  The white silk blouse provided the appropriate contrast to the outfit.  As she entered the boutique, she pulled off the silk headscarf, neatly folded it, and put it in the red purse she was caring.  Even though the boutique was not open on Monday, Mrs. Potter always felt the need to be professionally dressed.  She then took off her white cotton gloves and also put those in her purse.

It wasn't until she went into the retail section of the boutique that she realized that something was wrong.  The boutique was not as neat as it should be.  Most notably, the silk scarves, what was left of them, were on the counter and floor.  She noticed that some of the jewelry was also missing.  Had Maddie and Julie left the boutique in such disarray?  Had they been robbed?  There was no signs of a break-in or the girls.  Mrs. Potter went to the front door and checked, it was still locked.  If those girls had left her boutique in such a mess, there will be hell to pay.

Mrs. Potter went to the back of the boutique and opened the first two doors to the dressing rooms – nothing.  She opened the third door and again – nothing, but then she saw it.  The corner of silk scarf sticking out from under the bench.  She knelt down in a ladylike fashion and glanced under the bench.  There was someone under the bench curled up in a ball.  Her head was missing – well, not actually missing.  There were a bunch of colorful silk scarves, her boutique's silk scarves, wrapped where a person's head should be.  To be honest, Mrs. Potter didn't know who was under the bench.  She suspected that it was either Maddie or Julie.  Rather than trying to get the young woman out from her predicament, she went to the fourth dressing room and checked there – nothing.

Mrs. Potter went to one of the racks and pulled off one of the less expensive raincoats.  Going back to the dressing room, she spread the raincoat out on the floor so as not to mar her skirt when kneeling on the floor.  When she touched the woman who was all wrapped up, the woman jumped as if she was unaware that anyone was nearby, which caused Mrs. Potter to back away.  Mrs. Potter's second attempt to untie the unfortunate creature was less startling.  There were some grunts through the gag, but nothing else.  Mrs. Potter quickly realized that the easiest way to untie her salesgirl was to first untie the knot holding her to the brace of the bench.  Although she broke a nail, Mrs. Potter managed to do this fairly quickly.  Grabbing the young woman, she roughly pulled her out from under the bench.  The captive was still tied up in a ball with her head covered with silk scarves.

Rather than trying to untie her hands, Mrs. Potter concentrated on the gag and the blindfold.  She had no choice, but to untie the headscarf first.  She undid the knot at the back of the neck and then under the young woman's chin.  She went to pull the scarf off and realized that was still attached to Julie's hair.  Mrs. Potter saw that it was Julie for the first time.  It was Maddie who was missing.  She carefully removed all of the bobby pins, but she was clearly more interested in protecting the expensive scarf than Julie's hair.  She gingerly untied the blindfold over Julie's eyes.  That scarf would still be salable, Mrs. Potter thought to herself.  She carefully folded it, like she had the headscarf.

Julie blinked her eyes and could finally see her rescuer.  Mrs. Potter looked more irritated than concerned.  She untied the scarf gag, much of it soaked with Julie spittle, and pulled it away, holding it up for inspection.  Mrs. Potter said something, but Julie couldn't hear her.  She was clearly displeased because that scarf, Maddie's favorite, could no longer be sold.  Not only was it wet, but smeared lipstick impressions of Julie's lips were clearly visible.  Mrs. Potter said something unladylike and tossed the scarf aside.  She almost didn't see the small silk scarf, Julie's headscarf, tightly tied in Julie's mouth the older woman examined it and shook her head.  She got up and left for a few seconds and returned with a pair of scissors, a very sharp pair of scissors.  Warning Julie not to move, she slid one blade of the scissors between the scarf and Julie skin.  It took her several attempts, but finally Mrs. Potter managed to slice the scarf.  She pulled it away from Julie's mouth.  Julie immediately felt relief, but was pissed that her boss had destroyed her scarf, having made no attempt to untie it.

"It was not a quality scarf, Miss Julie.  It had lipstick all over it and was soaked.  There was no point trying to save it," Mrs. Potter explained with disdain in her voice, unaware that Julie couldn't hear her.  She always wondered why her salesgirls never purchased her high-end scarves.

It was at that point that Mrs. Potter saw that something was stuffed in her salesgirl's mouth.  With the tip of her gloved forefinger and thumb, she pulled out the pair of panties, made a disgusted face, and tossed them away.  Julie coughed a couple times.  Her boss said something to her and she shook her head.

"Can't hear – something in my ears," Julie was finally able to choke out.  Mrs. Potter looked in one of her ears and shook her head.   She carefully, with her long fingernails, managed to dig the hardened putty out of Julie's left ear.  The sounds of the world flooded Julie's hearing, seagulls, cars, people walking, just every imaginable sound flooded her ear.  But it was Mrs. Potter's voice that dominated.

"Miss Julie, if this is your idea of some sort of joke, it isn't funny.  There must be thousands of dollars a missing or ruined merchandise.  Did Miss Maddie do this to you?  Did you to get into a fight?  You know I'll have to take this out of your paycheck.  I'll have to call the police, of course."  Mrs. Potter hissed.

"What day is it?"  Julie managed to interject.

"You know darn well that it is Monday," Mrs. Potter rolled her eyes.

"We can't call the police until Tuesday.  They said they would kill Maddie, if we did," Julie pleaded.

"They who?  I'm not going to wait 24 hours to report a robbery.  You'll help me do inventory right now and then I'll call the police and have them chase down Maddie, that crook," Mrs. Potter screamed.

"Maddie did not do this.  They took her hostage, I think," Julie said as Mrs. Potter simply shook her head, "I have to go to the toilet – badly.  I've been tied up for hours.  Please untie me I can't hold it much longer."  This line of thought finally reached the boss of the boutique.  The thought of someone peeing or defecating on the expensive carpet in her boutique made her cringe.

She quickly went to work on the cords binding Julie's wrists under her knees.  When those were free, Mrs. Potter saw the cord embedded in Julie's crotch and backed away.

"You can get free from here.  I'm going to start the inventory.  Hurry up, we don't have a lot of time," Mrs. Potter said as she turned her back on Julie.  Julie's arms tingled as circulation was restored.  She tried to untie the knots securing her legs, but couldn't make her hands work.  She looked down the narrow hallway past the changing rooms to the little room that housed the toilet.  Using her arms to propel her, Julie crawled down the hallway as quickly as she could.  The situation was desperate and she didn't need to give Mrs. Potter any more reasons to dislike her.  When she reached the door to the toilet, she pulled herself up so that she could turn the doorknob.  Relief was only a few seconds away.

10 minutes later, Julie emerged, unbound, from the small room housing the toilet.  She felt like a new woman and she was very hungry, but right now she couldn't think about that.  She had to convince Mrs. Potter not call the police, but how.

"Miss Julie, about time you returned to your job.  You know my feeling about employees loitering in the restroom.  Go around and pick up all those silk scarves.  I can only hope that a few of them can be saved.  For some reason, that is what Maddie seems to have taken the most of.  I could tell that that girl was infatuated with those expensive silk scarves, she seemed to be the fondling them every chance she got," Mrs. Potter was now sitting at the table where she did the books in an uncomfortable wooden straight-backed chair.  Mrs. Potter didn't believe in comfort because that would slow you down from completing your tasks.

Julie walked around and picked up all the scarves that were on the floor.  For all of the scarves that had been used on her and probably on Maddie, there were still quite a few scarves and almost none in the display case.  She was very concerned for Maddie.  Would these people really kill her if their crime was reported before Tuesday?  She couldn't take that chance.  Besides she had an idea how to find the couple, who had taken Maddie.  Somehow she had to stop Mrs. Potter from calling the police.  Then she looked at all the scarves in her hands and draped over her neck.

It was an impulsive decision, probably a stupid idea.  Still, Julie couldn't take a chance with Maddie's life.  Between her two hands was a beautiful scarf, cream colored with a mountain scene on it.  It was nice and thick.  The scarf was already folded into a triangle.  Julie folded it down into a band.  She had never done this to anyone and she knew she would only have one chance.  Julie took a deep breath, standing directly behind her boss.  Julie swung the scarf over Mrs. Potter's head so that landed directly over her mouth.  At first, her boss didn't understand what was happening.  Julie pulled the ends behind her boss' head and tied a half knot.  Mrs. Potter screamed into her gag, but not much noise got through the 12 layers of thick silk that encased her lower face.  Julie pulled the ends of the scarf with all her might causing her boss to grunt.  Julie knew from experience that took a while for a scarf to lose its tightness when tied with a half knot.  She put her finger in the middle of it and finished the tie with a perfect square knot.  Mrs. Potter looked back at her with daggers in her eyes, if looks could kill.

Mrs. Potter pulled her right hand up to grab the gagging scarf, but Julie caught it pulled it down to the armrests of the chair and wrapped another scarf around her her wrist and the chair.  The older woman tried to pull herself out of the chair and was using her left fist to hit Julie.  There was no power behind her repeated blows, but Julie had to stop her from getting out of the chair or grabbing hold of her gag.  The salesgirl pivoted around and sat on Mrs. Potter's lap, forcing her back into the chair.  The two women were face-to-face as Julie grabbed her bosses left arm and wrapped another scarf around it, securing it to the left arm rest.  Julie stood up and looked at Mrs. Potter.

"I'm really sorry I have to do this to you, but it is important – Maddie's life is at stake – it is important that we not notified the police until tomorrow," Julie said as she twirled another silk square into a silk rope.  She bent down and forced Mrs. Potter's right leg off the floor and tied it above the floor to the leg of the chair.  She then did the same thing with Mrs. Potter's left leg.  Mrs. Potter swore and cursed at her former salesgirl, but only grunts got past the gag.  Julie took her time tying the remaining scarves so that her former boss couldn't move.  Each knee was tied to the chair, as was Mrs. Potter's waist.  Scarves were tied securing her elbows to the armrests.  And finally, a scarf was looped around Mrs. Potter's neck and secured to the back of the chair, preventing her from leaning forward.

There was one problem, however.  Most of the scarf bindings were hidden from anyone looking in the front window, because Mrs. Potter was behind the counter.  However, Mrs. Potter's head and her colorful gag were in plain view.  Julie could almost see a smile on Mrs. Potter's face.  Someone would look in, see her plight and would call the police.  People did look in at the clothing in the window and Mrs. Potter would be an obvious sight beyond those display clothes.  Julie pondered what she could do about this problem.  She thought about dragging the chair into the back, but that would be very difficult.  She thought about lowering the chair to the floor and thus, out of sight, but she worried that would make it easier for Mrs. Potter to get free.  And then she remembered it and ran back to the dressing room.

She returned with the boutique's scarf that had been tied over her mouth, the scarf that Maddie loved.  The scarf soaked in Julie spittle, at least near where her mouth had been, that now sported very distinct lipstick stains.  She shook out the scarf, which was still folded in a triangle, and carefully placed it over Mrs. Potter's head.  Her former boss shook her head and try to avoid what she knew was coming.  She was going to be forced to wear a headscarf to hide the fact that she was gagged.  But there was nothing she could do.  Julie easily brought the ends under her chin and tied the half knot.  She pulled the ends of the scarf tight resulting in a verbal acknowledgment by Mrs. Potter.  She then tied a perfect square knot under the woman's chin, finishing off with a neat little bow.  Mrs. Potter growled under her gag.  Julie took three bobby pins and secured the headscarf to Mrs. Potter's hair.  There would be no way for her former boss to shake the headscarf off and from the outside, shaking her head would simply look like she was having a conversation with an unseen person.

Julie checked the orientation of the chair to ensure that no one looking in the windows could actually see that the older woman was bound and gagged.  Satisfied, Julie headed out the back of the boutique.  She had an idea how to find the couple that had kidnapped Maddie.  If she turned out to be correct, she would call the police herself so that Maddie could be rescued.


To Be Continued...

Taken!! But Why??? Chapters 3 - 7
:iconmadokakawabata:'s alter ego Maddie seems to have gotten herself into a bit of trouble.  Working at a boutique in a central California coastal town back in 1968, Maddie has apparently run afoul of some bad people.  

This is turning out to be more involved than I originally expected, but I have no control over the stories, they go where they go.   I just report what happens.  And what will happen to Maddie?  What is her involvement in this melodrama?

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This story is a fetish bondage story, which includes both consensual and non-consensual sexual acts. If such things bother you, please don't read it.  It is tongue-in-cheek fiction. The author would not wish these things to happen to anyone, male or female, in real life.


Thomas Silk



Copyright 2018 Knotty Silk Scarf Productions


Chapter 34 – Of Life or Death



Beatrice had actually thought about keeping the maid alive, but it made too much sense to kill her.  Besides, she hadn't realized what a sexual turn on it was to watch someone die until they had killed that couple at the Club.  There was also the fact that the maid wasn't very sympathetic.  She cursed at Beatrice through the gag, very unladylike language, even though it was almost unintelligible.  Nor was she grateful for the two orgasms Beatice had forced on her.

Beatrice was going to find one of Wendy Larson scarves and strangle the ungrateful woman.  But the maid – what was her name?  Oh yes, her name was Iris.  Her name didn't really matter, she was a nobody.  A pawn to be used and sacrificed in the game.  The maid had made Beatrice so angry that she simply pinched her nose shut with her forefinger and thumb.  The maid's eyes grew wide when she realized what was being done to her.  The gag prevented any real breathing through her mouth.  She struggled really, really hard, almost knocking the chair over.  But then Beatrice relented and let her breathe again.  The maid's eyes looked relieved, almost thanking Beatrice for not killing her.  Then Beatrice grabbed her nose again and this time the maid was less panicked.  She thought Beatrice would let her go again, but her panic increased as Beatrice had one gloved hand at the back of her head and the other one pinching her nose.  Iris' eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her eye sockets.  Beatrice hadn't realized how much fun this was.  Life or death?  Should she let go and do it all over again.  Of course, she should.  And then the maid's body relaxed.  She no longer fought the cords binding her.  Her eyes still stared at Beatrice.

"Damn," Beatrice said to herself, "I didn't mean to kill her quite yet.  Oh well, c'est la vie"

Beatrice went upstairs and searched Wendy Larson's room.  She had remembered a white silk scarf that had Wendy's initials on it, embroidered in red.  She grabbed the scarf and ran back down to the basement, casually dropping it near the maid's body.  She then went out of the house and back to her car.  She didn't think anyone had seen her, but if they did, she could be any woman with the headscarf, dark glasses, and raincoat.  Although she liked the headscarf, she pulled it off as soon as she got away from the area and stuffed it in her pocket.  It was probably the last time she would wear the scarf because it was rather distinctive.

A couple miles up from the house, Beatrice pulled up next to a phone booth.  She pulled a different headscarf from her purse, this one a splash of different colors on a white background, which she tied over her hair using the car's rear view mirror.  Going into the phone booth, she closed the folding door behind her.  After looking up the number for the police in the tattered phone book, Beatrice picked up the handset and deposited the required five cents.  She dialed the number and in an hysterical voice told the police operator that she heard screaming from Mrs. Bacchus' mansion and she saw a woman driving away in the maid's uniform.  When asked to give her name, Beatrice hung up the phone.

Beatrice then called Eunice at her office at the University.  She told Eunice what had happened and what she had done.  She also told her sister that Wendy Banks was really Wendy Larson.  Eunice confirmed that their source in the police department had just provided the same information.

"Apparently, Wendy Larson is a PI, probably working for Mrs. Bacchus.  She has a partner named Angela Morris.  Bill and I suspect that Angela Morris is the woman the Club selected for our next target," Eunice said over the telephone.

"Then we'll have to abandon plans to snatch her tomorrow.  Even if Wendy Larson is picked up by the police, she is bound to get word to her that she is the target," Beatrice said with concern in her voice.

"That is why Bill and I decided that we should take her today.  That way we can spend a little quality time with her before tomorrow's meeting.  I think we should auction off her murder.  Some of our members would like that.  You need to come to my office as quickly as possible at the University.  This Angela character has class for about another hour," Eunice told her.

Beatrice got back in her car and could hear the police sirens heading toward Mrs. Bacchus's house.  She smiled to herself as she put the car in gear and headed toward the University.

Chapter 35 – An Offer She Couldn't Refuse



Angela was bored to death taking classes.  She never was much of the student, even though she had managed to graduate college.  Her goal had always been to be a housewife, preferably married to a man who was handsome and rich.  Her wonderful husband had been handsome, but as a couple they were never rich.  Sitting in these boring classes wasn't going to make her rich either.  She got depressed when thinking about her late husband, who had been killed working as a PI on a case of government corruption.  Angela missed him every day.  She enjoyed working with Wendy, but…

The last word she had had from Patsy was that the club would abduct a young woman on Friday, which meant tomorrow.  She was concerned that Patsy hadn't kept their appointment this morning.  She had been thinking about that during her classes.  She dared not disrupt her schedule.  After all, she was bait.  Honestly, Angela didn't think that they would choose her to snatch.  She was older than the other girls they had taken and while she still thought she looked sexy, particularly in the tight fitting outfits she was wearing, there were many other pretty girls on campus.

As Angela left her last class of the day, she was still in a boredom induced malaise.  It was warm outside so she left her headscarf tied around her neck and had her raincoat draped over her arm.  As she left the classroom building, a woman approached her.  This wasn't by accident, Angela realized.  The woman had a skirt and blouse combination on, white skirt and black blouse.  She had a small white headscarf tied over her hair, knotted under her chin.  Angela wondered what this could be about.

"Angela, isn't it?  It's okay if I call you Angela, isn't it?  I honestly don't know your last name," Eunice said with a big smile exposing her pearly white teeth surrounded by bright red lipstick covered lips, "I'm Eunice Green.  I work here at the University as a teacher and a researcher."

"Okay," Angela replied in a wary tone.

"I'm conducting a series of experiments and you were recommended as someone who might be perfect as a subject in one of those experiments," Eunice explained.

"Okay…" Angela tried to put her mind into gear, to clear the boredom fog that surrounded her.  She wanted to just tell this researcher to go fly a kite, but most students at the University would jump at the chance to be part of an experiment.  For one thing, often the students were paid and extra money was a desirable commodity.  Sometimes the students were given extra credit, as well.  It would be very suspicious if Angela just rejected the idea out of hand.

"If you can spare a couple of minutes, I can show you exactly what's involved.  If you choose not to do it after my explanation, that's okay.  But I do want you to know that there's a handsome stipend if you participate," Eunice gave Angela a broad smile again, "My laboratory is just in the basement of that building over there.  As I said, you just take a couple minutes of your time.

"Maybe tomorrow," Angela struggled to think of a reason why she shouldn't go with this woman, "I'll miss my bus if I don't get to the bus stop within the next few minutes."

"Not a problem, Angela.  I promise I'll drive you home, if it looks like you're going to miss your bus," Eunice said, not willing to accept Angela's simple excuse.

Angela sighed and nodded her agreement.  Hopefully, it would be an interesting experiment, not that she was going to accept under any circumstance.  It crossed her mind that this could be some sort of trap, but Angela dismissed the notion.  Being asked to be a subject of an experiment was reasonably common on campus.  Besides, none of the abductions had taken place on campus.  This woman had introduced herself and she had seen the woman's name on the faculty list.  All the other young women were taken off campus by a woman dressed up to be a nun.  The people who run The 49 Club have always remained anonymous, both to their members and to the young women who were kidnapped.  Also, it would be extremely dangerous to attempt an abduction on campus – too many students and staff in the confined space.  Then Angela had to remind herself that some of the abductions were done on Main Street, near the campus, with lots of people present.  She reassured herself because this was the wrong day.  They knew the abduction would take place tomorrow, Friday.

The path to Eunice Green's laboratory took Angela down to the second basement in the psych building.  There was literally no one down there, which made Angela nervous, but she was committed and it would be difficult to back out at this point.  After going past dark and perhaps unused offices, Eunice Green led her to the end of the hall, where there was obviously a large room.  The woman unlocked the door to the darkened lab and invited Angela to go in.  As Angela entered, no attempt was made to turn on the lights, which puzzled the young PI.  Her puzzlement turned to fear as strong arms grabbed her from behind.  It was definitely a man who had pinned her arms to her body with his large left arm and had clamped his right hand over her mouth.  Angela put up a hysterical struggle as the man lifted her off the ground, making her legs and feet useless as defensive weapons.

"Mrs. Morris, there is no point in struggling.  Yes, we know who you are.  Neither Miss Larson nor your receptionist is in any position to help you," Eunice snickered as she wadded up handkerchief, "But we had better keep you a bit more quiet until you are fully drugged."  Bill slid his hand off of Angela's mouth and Eunice grabbed her chin and force-fed the handkerchief past her teeth.  Angela retched and gagged on the cotton wad, but the noise that she was able to make was significantly muted.  Beatrice appeared out of nowhere and began again to wrap straps around Angela's legs, first at the knees and then at the ankles.  Angela still kicked her legs out at Beatrice and almost connected with her head.

"This one's a real wildcat," Bill hissed as he struggled to control Angela's while gyrations, "You had better use chloroform on her.  I don't know how long I can keep her under control"

"Using chloroform with the other drug is dangerous.  It might kill her," Eunice hissed.

"So what?  We plan to kill her anyway!  Do it!"  Bill said.  Eunice nodded at Beatrice, who poured liquid into a folded handkerchief from a bottle labeled chloroform.  She did this so Angela could see what was happening.  Beatrice walked around and as Bill took his hand away from Angela's mouth, grabbing both of her arms, she held the cloth over Angela's mouth and nose.

Angela had known that her fight was hopeless from the start, but she had hoped to attract some sort of attention from outside the lab.  Having been chloroformed previously, this was the one thing she really wanted to avoid.  Not only was it unpleasant being put under that way, but you never knew for sure if you were going to wake up.  And if you did wake up, there was the nausea to deal with.  You also usually ended up in a worse situation than you were to begin with – bound and gagged or locked in a room or cell or closet or a trunk of a car.  Angela held her breath.

"Enough of this crap," Eunice hissed as she punched Angela in the stomach.  The blow caused the PI to inhale, gasping for air.  The chloroform took hold quickly after that as Angela struggled to breathe.  The gag in her mouth made it necessary to inhale through her nose, which was totally sealed by the handkerchief Beatrice held over her face.  Angela tried to shake her head to free yourself from the fumes that were sapping her energy, but Beatrice held the cloth firmly in place.  She couldn't believe how dumb she had been to have walked into such as obvious trap.  Now she was going to be used as a sex plaything and probably be murdered after they were done with her.  And there was nothing she could do to prevent it.  Angela found it difficult to keep fighting.  The muscles in her body were relaxing and would no longer do what she wanted them to do.  Finally, her entire body went limp as her eyes fluttered and then rolled up into the back of her head.

Bill let her slip to the ground, where she lay like a ragdoll.  Eunice bent down to ensure that Angela was really out cold.  Lifting her eyelids, confirmed what they already knew.  Eunice went to a table and retrieved a syringe that she had prepared.  She swabbed Angela's arm near her right shoulder and stabbed the needle of syringe in the spot.  Her thumb pushed the plunger of the syringe down until it was empty.  She hoped the combination of the sedative that she had just given Angela and the chloroform wouldn't kill her, but as Bill had pointed out, Angela Morris was going to die anyway.  Regardless, Mrs. Angela Morris was now the property of The 49 Club.  She no longer had a say in her future and her future would be short-lived.

"Strip her down to her bra and panties.  Also take off her shoes and stockings and garter.  She won't be needing those anymore," Eunice told Bill and Beatrice.  Bill smirked as he saw an opportunity to grope the fetching PI.  

Chapter 36 – Not Again!



"Where is Miss Wendy Larson?"  The gruff looking detective asked.  The detective and what seemed like a full squad of officers, some in plainclothes and others in uniform, had all but forced their way into the office of Morris and Larson Investigations.  Patsy had all she could do to keep her shredded blouse from exposing her pearly white breasts.

"I really don't know, Detective," Patsy insisted for the fourth or fifth time.

"I don't believe you.  Your employer is wanted for murder of a maid in Mrs. Bacchus' home.  The proof is irrefutable and we will catch her.  The only question is whether you will be charged as an accessory after the fact," the detective hissed with his face inches from Patsy's face, "Take this girl and handcuff her to a chair in one of those offices.  Make sure the uniformed officers are out of sight, securing the perimeter.  I want as many plainclothes officers, including women, near every entrance.  Make sure everyone has a walkie-talkie.  This Larson woman will return and I want to catch her when she does."

"Sir, there are five entrances to the building and we have three men and two women in plainclothes.  But Sir, I'm concerned – women with guns.  They don't have the experience of the male officers," the officer pointed out.

"They can use walkie-talkies, can't they?  All they have to do is alert the rest of us and point their gun at the suspect.  This isn't a man we are after, it's a girl.  As soon as this Miss Larson is spotted, they can radio in and we will come running or they can just alert us and we will catch her up here.  Stop assuming that they can't do their job!" the detective yelled.  The officer left with his orders.

Within 15 minutes, the trap was set.  The plainclothes officers were loitering around the entrances.  There were no uniformed officer within sight.  Everything was quiet.  Then suddenly the door to the PIs office opened.

"Run!  Wendy run!"  Patsy screamed.  Belatedly, the officer in the room with her covered her mouth with his hand.  The detective looked annoyed and then turned back to the man who had come in the office.

"Well, what is it?  You may have ruined our stake out," the detective hissed.

"Sorry, Sir.  The maid's car was found near the Larson house.  There was no sign of her however,” the man said in a sheepish voice, realizing that he should've radioed information.  The detective acknowledged the report and then turned back to where Patsy was handcuffed with her hands behind her back in a straight back chair.  Patsy's breasts were hanging out of her torn blouse.  The officer still had his hand over her mouth.

"I can see we can't trust our little receptionist.  We can't afford such outbursts.  Gag her and do a good job of it," the detective said and then turned his attention back to the front of the office.  The officer removed his hand and found the silk scarf that was used to blindfold Patsy earlier.  He returned and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.

"Please!  I promise to be quiet.  There is no need to gag mmmppphh," Patsy pleaded as he stuffed the wadded up handkerchief into her mouth.  The scarf was already folded into a triangle and he folded it down into a band and tied it tightly over her mouth, effectively silencing her.

The only thing that Patsy could think of right at that moment was "not again!"

Chapter 37 – Floating in a Dream



Angela thought she must've died.  There was no other logical explanation.  She was suspended or so it seemed – suspended in midair.  She wasn't bound, as such.  Her arms were away from her body and her legs were part.  That is not to say that she could move them.  In some way it seemed like she was encased in something.  Whatever was touching her skin, if anything was touching her skin, almost seemed like Jello.  She tried to say something, but her mouth was filled with something soft and damp.  She could feel something had been bound over her mouth.  So she was gagged, even in heaven?  She assumed that she would go to heaven, although this seemed more like hell.  Angela couldn't see or at least couldn't see anything that made any sense.  She saw patches of light and dark and occasionally she thought she saw someone in to look at her, but she couldn't be sure.  It was as if looking through an ever changing gel-like substance.  There were tubes in her nose, which were very uncomfortable.  Angela realized that she couldn't hear anything, absolutely nothing.  But she did feel something strange on her skin.  She couldn't identify what it was.  Angela did feel something else.  It was between her legs, in her crotch, in her.  It was a soft vibration.  It wasn't what she needed right now and she tried to squirm, but that was impossible.  And then Angela lost track of what she was thinking and her world went black again.

Chapter 38 – Be Careful Who Your Friends Are



Wendy surveyed the side entrance of the Wilson building.  She saw no signs of any trouble or the police, which made her breathe a sigh of relief.  Together, she and Patsy had to warn Angela.  Then she wanted to get back to the Bacchus mansion and untie the maid or perhaps inform the police that she was tied up in the basement.  She regretted the need to subdue and tie up the maid in first place, but then that was what the maid wanted to do to her.

Wendy had driven her own car here from her house and had left the maid's car parked down the street from her house.  She was pretty sure that the maid would accuse her of assault and stealing her car, not to mention her uniform, coat and headscarf.  But those are minor details, right now the priority was warning Angela.

There was only the slight possibility that the maid had gotten free and called the police, that didn't really concern Wendy.  What did – that the members of The 49 Club probably knew who she was by now, given that one of them had paid a visit to their office and had left Patsy tied up.  The man had told Patsy that he would be back.  It was bad enough that Wendy knew that they had enemies in the Club.  What made matters worse was that they had no idea who these people were or what they looked like.  Even though Wendy, herself, had met a number of them, they were always masked.  Wendy was much more concerned about the members of the Club than she was the police.

There was a woman loitering around the side entrance of the building.  It looked like she was taking a break, smoking a cigarette.  Wendy didn't recognize her, but that didn't mean much.  She had very curly hair, which was covered by a rather large hat.  She had on a white blouse, white cotton gloves, and a black skirt, with black heels.  The woman was holding a large purse.

From her hiding place about half a block away, behind the rear of a building across the street, Wendy took out a black and white silk scarf with a checkerboard pattern on it.  She folded it into a triangle and flipped it over her head, looping the ends under her chin and tying them over the scarf at the back of her head.  While wearing a headscarf could change how a woman looked, Wendy knew that it really provides a false sense of security.  If someone was looking for her, it was unlikely that simply wearing a headscarf was going to fool them.  Still, it was better than nothing.

Wendy began casually walking toward the door.  She watched the woman intently, but the woman didn't seem to pay any attention to her.  As she approached, the woman dropped her cigarette and crushed it with her high heel shoe.  She turned and went into the building.  Wendy breathed a sigh of relief and quickened her pace toward the building, with her head turning back and forth surveilling anyone who happened to be walking in the vicinity.  No one seemed to be paying any attention to her.  Wendy went through the little used side door of the building.  She turned right and went through the door to the stairwell, which she planned to take to the sixth floor.  She passed the woman with the hat as she started up the staircase.

"Stand perfectly still, Miss Larson.  This is the police," the young woman said as she pointed a gun at Wendy's back, "Turn around very slowly."  Wendy did as she was told with her hands raised.

"Officer, what is this all about?"  Wendy thought she knew, of course.  She was trying to buy time, for what she didn't know.

"You are under arrest for the murder of the maid at Mrs. Bacchus' home," the policewoman hissed as she tried to get her walkie-talkie out of her purse.

"I didn't kill anyone," Wendy was shocked.  Was there some way that the maid could've died because of her?  Could she have choked on her gag?  No – no, there was no way anything she did to the maid could've caused her to die.  She was positive the maid was perfectly healthy when she left her.

"That's what they all say when they get caught," the policewoman snickered.  She brought the walkie-talkie up to her face.

It was at that moment that the door to the stairwell opened.  Two women wearing raincoats and headscarves entered.  The policewoman was about to tell them to use the elevators, that this was police business when the older one put a revolver to the policewoman's head.

"Be sensible, dear.  We have no desire to hurt you," Mrs. Bacchus told the young woman, who allowed Mrs. Bacchus to take her gun.  Patricia moved on the other side of the woman and took away the walkie-talkie.  The policewoman had her hands in the air and Patricia, from behind the young woman, put a wadded up handkerchief into the woman's mouth, meeting no resistance at all.

"Now dear, we are all going to take a walk to the basement and find someplace suitable for you to spend the next few hours.  You may put down your hands, but I would advise you against trying anything stupid because you will get hurt.  Understand?"  Mrs. Bacchus explained as the woman nodded and put down her hands as they started down toward the basement, "You coming, Miss Larson?  If you go up to your office, they'll arrest you for murder just like this one wanted to."  Wendy followed the group down to the basement.  Honestly, for as long as she's worked in this office building she had never been to the basement.

As if she knew exactly where they were going, Patricia led the group to a small storage room.  The room was locked, but in about 30 seconds Patricia had unlocked it.  It looked like a very uncomfortable place to spend the next few hours.  There was a concrete floor and shelves filled with boxes.  There were a few tools hanging on the wall and Wendy noted, a coil of cord.  The policewoman tried to say something through the handkerchief stuffed in her mouth and Mrs. Bacchus simply shook her head and put her index finger to her lips.  Patricia took the coil of cord and cut off a length.  She tied the policewoman's hands behind her back with the efficiency of someone who knew what she was doing – a point not missed by the policewoman, who started to look very concerned.  The policewoman was forced to sit on the ground, which looked very hard and very cold to Wendy.  Patricia tied the woman's ankles and knees.  Mrs. Bacchus took off the policewoman's hat, a very stylish hat, and carefully placed it on one of the shelves.  No sense in ruining such a nice fashion accessory.  Hats like that were expensive, particularly on a policewoman salary.   Patricia pulled up the ankles close to the woman's wrists and secured them within a foot of each other.  This forced the woman to roll over onto her side.  The policewoman was getting very scared at this point.  Obviously, she never been tied up before.  Mrs. Bacchus searched the woman's purse and extracted a pair of handcuffs, which Patricia also snapped around the woman's wrists.  Even if she got free of the ropes, she would still be handcuffed.  Mrs. Bacchus also found the woman's neatly folded silk headscarf, a very pretty one that was blue with white daisies on it, in her purse.  The woman was shaking her head as Mrs. Bacchus folded the scarf into a triangle and then twirled it into a silk rope.  She looped the scarf over the policewoman's head, pulling it tight against the back of her neck.  She then crisscrossed the scarf in the woman's mouth, knotting the ends at the back of her head.  Mrs. Bacchus grabbed the woman's chin to examine her work, making sure that the handkerchief was fully in her mouth under the binding scarf and smiled at the hapless girl, whose face was distorted by the tightly tied gag.  The young woman scowled in return or at least that's what it looked like.  It was difficult to tell given her distorted face.

"I could say that we're going to put you to sleep so you don't have to endure being bound and gagged for the first couple of hours, but the truth is we want to make sure that even if you are found earlier than we expect that you won't be able to tell your bosses anything," Mrs. Bacchus explained as Patricia poured chloroform onto another folded handkerchief.  The young woman's eyes became large saucers as she watched Patricia, helpless to do anything to stop what was about to happen.  Patricia grabbed the back of the policeman's head and then forced the cloth over her nose.  The police officer struggled as much as was possible given the fact that she was tightly hogtied.  She tried to scream through her gag, which kept her effectively silenced.  After what seemed a long time to Wendy, the young woman stopped struggling and her eyes closed.  Patricia checked the make sure she was really out and also checked her breathing.

"I didn't kill your maid," Wendy finally said emphatically, "While I'm glad for your help, why are you here?”Mrs. Bacchus and Patricia stood up and faced Wendy.

"We know you didn't kill Iris.  That was probably Beatrice, one of those running The 49 Club.  They probably killed her because Iris got too greedy and because she gave them a chance to put you in a jail cell and thus, out of the way," Mrs. Bacchus said.

"We have to warn Angela.  They are going to abduct her tomorrow," Wendy said.

"Unfortunately, they have already done that.  They grabbed her this afternoon and are holding her someplace on campus.  I'm sorry.  I underestimated Eunice, Beatrice, and Bill.  I thought you could get in there and get the information you needed without me getting involved.  I thought Angela would simply be a decoy.  It never occurred to me that they would pick her as one of their targets, as pretty as she is.  I was hoping you two would give me some leverage on these three so I could get what is owed to me.  I wanted to shake them up," Mrs. Bacchus explained.

"I nearly got the information about Number 3.  I had located the file, but I never got a chance to look in it.  One of their honorary members caught me and punished me with a very painful butt fuck.  It probably confirmed their suspicions that I might be a plant and not a serious member.  By the way, how do you know about Angela and why are you here?"  Wendy put her hands on her hips in a suspicious posture.  Mrs. Bacchus and Patricia always seemed to know things before they were knowable.

"The group knows my secret phone number and I got a call from Eunice less than an hour ago.  She told me to come to tomorrow's meeting to resolve things.  Otherwise, they were going to kill Angela.  Obviously, it's a trap and they plan to kill everyone, including you – if arrested, you would probably be found hung in your cell at some point.  On the way over to warn Patsy, we saw the police presence and Patricia convinced one of them to tell us what was going on," Mrs. Bacchus explained.

The police walkie-talkie crackled and a man's voice came on asking each station to report in.  Patricia got out the walkie-talkie and waited until the man repeated the request for station five.  Then she simply said, "All clear" and put the walkie-talkie back in her purse.

"What about Patsy?"  Wendy asked.

"They have the right to hold her as a material witness for a couple of days.  I suspect that she will mysteriously disappear from police custody and show up at the club tomorrow night.  Just a guess.  In any case, we need to get out of here before sleeping beauty is missed," Mrs. Bacchus said.

Patricia locked the door to the storage room behind them.  The three women walked up the stairs and out the side entrance of the building, walking confidently.  The police were looking for a single woman coming into the building, not a group of three women leaving.  As they walked several blocks away, Wendy could see the ring of police waiting to charge in, if required.  They were serious about capturing her and they would have, if Mrs. Bacchus and Patricia hadn't shown up.  But Wendy was worried about Angela and also Patsy.  What would happen to them during the next 24 hours before the club meeting?

Mrs. Bacchus had said, "If you look and act innocent, the police will assume that you are innocent."  So Wendy smiled and tried to look happy as she walked away, not an easy thing to do.

Chapter 39 – Suspended Animation



"How the hell can I have fun with the bitch when she's in that contraption?"  Bill hissed at his sister.  Not only hadn't he used the mousy one, now that opportunity was gone.  She was in the hands of the police.  His desire to use Angela, who they confirmed was not a virgin, was at a fevered pitch.  But his sister, Eunice, had insisted that they put the young PI into a suit of some sort.

"The suit is perfect for this.  It will keep her totally disoriented.  It is sort like being in suspended animation, but more correctly it is a way of providing sensory deprivation," Eunice said.

"Suspended what?  Sensory what?"  Bill shook his head.  This was all nonsense to him.  He wanted his captive woman to be bound and gagged and at his mercy.  This one was suspended in some sort of box.  Literally, she was in some sort of rubbery suit, suspended in midair by strips of rubber.  It was apparently a box that Eunice designed so that her students could experience sensory deprivation or the elimination of some senses.  Hearing was eliminated.  Seeing anything that made sense was eliminated.  Feeling was significantly altered such that one did not know exactly what they were feeling.  Smell was also eliminated.

There were somethings that the students did not experience.  Wendy was well-gagged – a necessary precaution on campus.  Her mouth stuffed with one of Bill's large handkerchiefs with another one tied between her lips.  Also, the tubes to Wendy's nose not only allowed her to breathe air properly, but had been modified so that Eunice could apply a sedative.  And then there was the very special modification to the suit.  Eunice had added a small hole to the crotch of the suit that allowed her to insert something into a woman's crotch, in this case sliding it through the leg hole in Angela's panties.  The soft hum of the vibration told Eunice that Mrs. Morris was experiencing some unwanted sexual stimulation.  Of course, Eunice could increase or decrease the stimulation.  She could also increase the sedative to put the helpless PI into a deep sleep.  Eunice could also kill the troublesome woman by cutting off the flow of air or giving her too much sleep inducing medicine.  At that moment, she had the helpless PI in a state of semi consciousness.  Angela was aware of her surroundings, but didn't understand where she was.  She was aware of the stimulation to her body, but was unable to respond to it or to make a fuss.  Definitely a form of torture, Eunice thought to herself and smiled.

The sensory deprivation box could be a very enjoyable experience.  Eunice had used the suit on numerous occasions, both as demonstrations and for relaxation, but Eunice was the exception.  Most students who had used the suit (a requirement for her lab), didn't wanted to try it a second time.  The suit could be totally disorienting and terrifying. The person in the suit was totally helpless and detached from normal reality.  For someone who didn't know what was going on, the effect was magnified.  Eunice suspected that if left in the suit long enough, she could drive a person mad.  Even if someone wasn't claustrophobic, they would be after experiencing the suit for a few hours.  One of Eunice's female students described it as the closest thing to 'hell on earth.'  Eunice liked the description.

Eunice smiled as she looked down at the bodysuit that was suspended in the box.  She adjusted the stimulation to Angela's twat, increasing it.  By tomorrow night, she would be hypersensitive and that would mean that she would put on a good show for the club members.  Nothing worse than a woman tied to the cross who didn't respond when they were fucked.  It was all show business, after all.  The women they abducted brought in more money, if they put on a good show.

Eunice turned out the lights and locked the door to the laboratory.  No one would bother Mrs. Angela Morris until Eunice, her sister and brother returned in the middle of the night to take the hapless PI to the Club and ultimately to her death.

To Be Continued...

Angela Morris, PI - The 49 Club - Chapters 34-39
The 3rd book of the Angela Morris, PI series has Private Investigators Angela and Wendy Larson investigating The 49 Club, a sex club that uses extreme measures to satisfy its wealthy and powerful members.  

Chapter 34 - Beatrice has that killer spirit.
Chapter 35 - Angela gets an offer she can't refuse and walks into a trap.
Chapter 36 - The chapter title says it all for Patsy.
Chapter 37 - Angela is floating in a dream.
Chapter 38 - Wendy walks into a trap.
Chapter 39 - Bill is frustrated and Eunice is pleased with her suit.


So if you want lots of bondage, sex, chloroformed women, KOs - read Angela Morris - The 49 Club.

Cover Illustration by the remarkable :iconmileshendon:  A version without the text is published on his page.
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This story is a fetish bondage story, which includes non-consensual sexual acts. If such things bother you, please don't read it. It is tongue-in-cheek fiction. The author would not wish these things to happen to anyone, male or female, in real life.  

Also, please note that no DA members or their OCs were harmed in the writing of this story.


Thomas Silk



Copyright 2018 Knotty Silk Scarf Productions


Chapter 1 – Be Careful What You Wish for



May, 1968

Maddie's green eyes surveyed the front of the store, hoping that a customer would come in.  Most boutiques, like the one she worked at, would normally be closed at 3:26 PM on a Sunday.  In fact, they wouldn't even be open on a Sunday.  But this was a tourist town.  A beautiful little hamlet on the central California coast.  Most of the boutique's business was done on weekends when there was a surge in out-of-town folks looking to spend money.  So, Maddie and Julie, the salesgirls stuck with the Sunday shift at the boutique, twiddled their thumbs.  By now, most of the tourists were on their way home and the sleepy little town was turning sleepy again.  The one good thing was that the girls had Monday off, mainly because the boutique was closed Monday and Tuesday, although their boss came in to do the books on Tuesday..

The boutique, itself, had high-end clothes that neither Maddie nor Julie would actually buy themselves.  Silk scarves were popular with women, but who would pay 40 or $50 for a silk scarf?  Okay, they were of higher quality than what you'd find at lower end stores, but you could buy a very nice silk scarf for $20.  Regardless, they were popular item at the boutique, as were the expensive dresses, blouses, skirts, gloves, intimate apparel, jewelry, and everything else that the boutique sold.

The boutique had a main glass counter with one section that housed the silk scarves, another that had gold and silver jewelry on display, and a third section that displayed a selection of French perfumes.  In the center of the store were racks of various types of clothing.  The intimate wear was along the back wall, furthest from the front door.  Next to those sexy undergarments – the boutique did not carry anything that was plain or common – was curtain behind which was a small hallway that led to the fitting rooms, of which there were four.

Although Maddie and Julie always wore their own clothes at the boutique, the manager, a woman, always required certain things.  Each salesgirl was to wear shoes with at least 2 inch heels.  The manager felt that that forced the young woman to walk in a certain manner, which flat shoes did not.  Naturally, the manager did not have to stand on her feet all day wearing those shoes.  The sales clerks were required to wear nylon stockings with a garter belt.  Pantyhose were okay, but not encouraged.  The girls were required to wear miniskirts, which were all the rage.  Long sleeve blouses, preferably silk, were also on the 'to wear list.'  Silk neck scarves or scarves worn in the hair were also encouraged, but never cotton bandannas.  And, of course, jewelry – the salesgirls were encouraged to wear jewelry.  Why all these requirements?  Simple, the manager, in her wisdom, thought if her customers, men or women, saw the salesgirls wearing certain apparel, they will want to buy that apparel in the boutique.  Neither Maddie nor Julie knew whether this approach worked, but they were only salesgirls after all.

Maddie's outfit today was a white long sleeved silk blouse with large yellow flowers.  Her miniskirt was pink with a large bow on the left side.  She wore stockings and heels.  Her best silk scarf, a cream affair with pink flowers, was tied as a headband with the ends hanging down her back along with her long black hair.  Julie wore a pink silk long sleeved blouse with a red miniskirt.  Her heels were also red.  Her legs were covered with nude nylon stockings.  She had a small silk scarf, with a red paisley pattern, folded into a triangle and tied peasant style over her shoulder length brunette hair.  The two salesgirls looked like catalog models for what the boutique was selling.

Maddie and Julie had been paired together as sales clerks for several months.  During the slow times, they had chatted a lot so they knew a lot about each other.  After the recent news was discussed, each young woman would do mundane tasks around the boutique – straightening clothes that had been gone through by customers, putting clothes that been tried on, but not purchased, back on the rack, and other tasks.  Because Maddie was the tallest of the two at 5'7", compared to Julie's 5'5", Maddie always got the tasks that required height and she was often on a ladder stacking merchandise.

"Neither of you move or say a word," the masked man hissed.  He was big, strong and handsome.  Maddie could tell that despite the handkerchief tied over his face.  His eyes were penetrating and delicious.  While a masked woman wearing a headscarf was doing something with Julie, the masked man gently took Maddie off of the ladder and looked deeply into her eyes.

"I'm really sorry I have to do this to you," he said in an apologetic tone.  He then took her hands and crossed them in front of her body.  Using the softest rope that she had ever felt, the masked man secured her wrists in front of her and then wrapped cord around her body, above and below her heaving breasts.  He walked her to one of the changing rooms and had her sit on the bench that extended across the back of the room.  The man lifted her feet off the floor and caressed Maddie's nylon covered legs, sending chills up and down Maddie's spine.

The woman reappeared holding Maddie's favorite silk scarf from the display case, one that she would never be able to afford.  It was a 36 inch square scarf with a red boarder and a cream center with a hunting scene in the middle.  It was from France or Italy or someplace exotic like that.  It was made of the softest silk that Maddie had ever felt and when Julie wasn't looking, Maddie would fondle the scarf in the display case.

"The other young lady is no longer a problem.  She is enjoying herself behind the counter.  Now we have to take care of this one," the masked woman smiled under the scarf that covered the lower part of her face and she held up a wadded up handkerchief, "I just can't allow your lipstick, nice as it is, to mar such a wonderful silk scarf.  We wouldn't want you to get into trouble with your boss."  The woman grabbed Maddie's chin, but didn't stuffed the handkerchief in her mouth.  No, she used a handkerchief to wipe the lipstick off of Maddie's mouth.  Satisfied, she unfolded the beautiful silk square scarf and refolded it into a triangle.  The woman carefully, making sure that the two layers of silk perfectly overlapped, folded down the silk triangle into a band with a small apex of silk hanging below.  She precisely put the middle of the band over Maddie's mouth pulling the ends behind, tying them in a perfect, but tight – comfortably tight, bow.

"I hope that isn't too tight, Maddie dear.  That scarf looks dazzling on you," the woman said as she caressed Maddie's breasts, causing her nipples to get hard, "I do hope you enjoy yourself."

The man finished tying Maddie's ankles and knees.  "I'll be back after we finished some business.  That's a promise," the man caressed Maddie's legs once again before he got up and closed the door of the dressing room.

Maddie tested the ropes, which caressed her body as she struggled.  They didn't hurt, even though they were tight.  They were more like the man's arms holding her tight around her ankles, her knees, and particularly above and below her breasts.  Maddie could almost feel his hands fondling her aroused breasts.  The only way she could move her legs was back and forth, as the cords restrained her in any other direction.  That motion caused rubbing on her eager twat, which made it ready for action.

Maddie's scarf gag felt wonderful.  The soft silk encased her lower face and the delicate hint of perfume made the scarf the perfect accessory.  When she moved the small triangular portion, the apex of the scarf, tickled her chin in a sensuous way.  She knew that it kept her perfectly quiet because when her favorite actresses were tied up on television, they were perfectly quiet.  Silenced so they couldn't interfere with the criminal's activity.  They had to wait to be rescued.  Of course, Maddie didn't want to be rescued, not quite yet.

Where was the masked guy anyway, Maddie mused?  He had better not be having his way with Julie.  The masked woman could take care of Julie, although it would be fun to have her assist the masked guy, the very handsome masked guy.  As Maddie waited in anticipation, she squirmed in her corded restraints.  Her breasts moved in their prison bra under her blouse and her nipples became very hard, so hard that Maddie was sure that they would pop a hole in her bra.  Where was the masked guy?  She was ready to be taken.

And then the door opened and there he was.  The large bulge in his pants told her what was to come, literally what was to cum.  The masked man sat next to her and fondled her breasts, causing Maddie to moan through her scarf gag.  He moved down to her ankles, gently untying them.  When he untied her knees, Maddie spread her legs, welcoming him.  The masked man caressed her legs again and gently pulled her panties down to her knees.  The man let his pants slip to the floor and only his briefs hid his manhood, which clearly was very aroused.  He approached her and started to pull down his briefs…

"MADDIE!!!"  Julie yelled, "Earth to Maddie.  Earth to Maddie.  Are you having one of your robbery daydreams, AGAIN?  You do know that nobody robs a boutique, don't you?  If our boss catches you, you'll be fired."  Maddie was sorry that she confided in Julie about her robbery fantasy.

Maddie moved behind some clothes hanging on a round carousel and discreetly went under her skirt and rubbed her panties to absorb the moisture that her daydream had caused, but that didn't help minimize how horny she felt.  She also kept her back turned to Julie as much as possible, hoping that her still aroused nipples weren't too noticeable.

Chapter 2 – Your Wish Just Might Come True



It was while Maddie was doing mundane chores that she would daydream.  Her daydreams were always along the same theme.  Masked robbers would come in the store or at home or wherever and she would be tied up, helpless.  An expensive silk headscarf would be tied over her mouth so she couldn't scream.  She would be left their to struggle in a hopeless attempt to get free, all the time getting more aroused.  A handsome robber would want to use her and she would want to be used while helplessly squirming in ropes.  It was, of course, a stupid daydream or fantasy.  In the store, Julie would always interrupt her, usually at the best part.  At home, her daydreams often reached a climactic conclusion.

Maddie looked at her watch.  It was 4:50 PM, only 10 minutes to go until closing.  It had been so dreadfully slow this Sunday afternoon.  But now, of course, both girls hoped that no one would walk through the door.  They both just want to go home.

And then the door opened and in walked a woman.  Damn, Maddie thought, so close to closing.  It usually required 15 or 20 minutes to service the customer properly, even if they knew exactly what they wanted.  And it was a cardinal sin to kick a potential customer out of the store, even if that meant staying open for another 30 minutes.

The woman was tall.  Of course, part of that was due to the high heels that she was wearing.  She was wearing a headscarf, a tan raincoat, dark sunglasses, and white cotton gloves.  The headscarf was of the expensive variety, large silk square with a checkerboard brown and white pattern.  The woman did look well put together, which suggested that she had money to spend.  What Maddie could see of her hair suggested that she was a blonde, but for some reason Maddie thought she might be wearing a wig.  Just a hunch.

The fact that the woman looked like she was dressed for cold weather, California cold weather, didn't strike Maddie as strange.  A few miles inland, it could be 85 or even 100°, but down by the water 65° with a stiff wind was typical.  If it got up to 70 or 75°, it was a heat wave by the water.  A lot of women wore headscarves down by the ocean because the wind always seemed to be blowing.

The woman walked right past Maddie and started to talk to Julie.  She selected some skirts and the blouse from the racks and Julie escorted her to the changing rooms.  Maddie took this opportunity to fondle her favorite silk scarf, pretending to straighten the scarves.

The door opened again.  Why now? Maddie wondered.  She looked up and saw that it was a man, his back to her as he closed the door.  Men were okay.  When a man came in to buy a gift for a woman, they only required a few minutes to choose something, unlike a woman who could take an hour to make one small purchase.  As he turned around, Maddie could see him pull a handkerchief mask up over his nose and he pulled a revolver out of his raincoat.  Oh shit, was this her daydream coming to life?

"Not a sound," the man ordered as he approached the counter keeping his back to the window that looked on to the street, "Do as you're told and everything will be just fine."  Maddie stood there like a statue, not knowing what to do.  Why would anyone rob a boutique?

At that moment, Maddie her two sounds.  One was Julie uttering, “Ahhh.”  Then there was a distinct thud as if something fell to the carpeted floor.  The woman came out the back and Maddie wanted to warn her and then she saw what she recognized, from her TV shows, as a blackjack in the woman's hand.

"The one in back won't be giving us any trouble," the woman said with a smile," She went down like a sack of potatoes.  This one causing any trouble?"

"She's behaving like a good girl," the man said with a chuckle.

"Good.  Then, honey, maybe I won't have to give you a headache like I did the other girl.  Give me the keys to the store," the woman said and then to the man, "Take her in back and tie her up.  Once I lock up the store, I'll be back there to take care of the other girl."  The woman took the keys and headed toward the front door of the store.  The man grabbed Maddie's arm and forced her toward the back of the store.

As Maddie and the man went past the curtain that separated the main store from the changing rooms, she saw Julie crumpled on the floor.  It was obvious that she was still breathing.  It looked like she was actually sleeping.  In the way, she was – a forced sleep.  The man pulled Maddie past Julie's limp body.  He pulled her hands behind her back and using cord from his raincoat, he secured her hands.  He then began to fondle her breasts, causing her to squirm.  Maddie wanted to scream, but seeing what the woman had done to her friend, she dared not make a sound.

The woman returned carrying several silk headscarves from the display case.  She straightened out Julie's body and went under her skirt.  The woman rubbed Julie's crotch.  Why would she do that, Maddie wondered.  The question was quickly answered as the woman easily pulled off Julie's satin panties.  She got up and approached Maddie, turning the panties inside out.

"We have to keep you quiet.  Might as well give you a gag with a little flavor," she laughed.  Grabbing Maddie's chin, the woman roughly squeezed the helpless salesgirl's cheeks and her mouth popped open.  Maddie struggled to avoid the panties.  She remembered that Julie always boasted that she only wore one pair panties each week.  Julie hated doing laundry, but when she did do it it was on Monday, their day off.  So this would be day seven for Julie's panties.  Maddie was retching even before the woman forced the panties slowly into her mouth.  Maddie stop struggling and tried to keep her mouth opened as wide as possible in a vain hope that her mouth wouldn't actually touch her friend's panties.  Of course, the satin panties expanded in her mouth, filling it.  Within seconds, Maddie tasted a variety of different flavors, all of them disgusting.  Maddie retched and choked on the gag causing the man and woman to laugh.  The woman took the opportunity to remove the beautiful scarf that served as Maddie's headband.

The woman knelt down and undid the garters from Julie stockings.  She rolled off each stocking after removing Julie's shoes, which she set aside.  She got back up and again approached Maddie.  The woman took one stocking, stretched it out in their hands.  She forced the middle of the stocking into Maddie stuffed mouth and wrapped the ends around her head.  She crisscrossed the ends in Maddie's mouth and then tightly knotted what was left at the back of Maddie's head.  The stocking forced the satin panties deep into Maddie's mouth and caused her to wrap her lips around the stocking.  The woman took the second stocking, smoothed it out into a wide band, placed the middle of stocking over Maddie's mouth, and tied the ends tightly behind her head.  Strangely, the gag was almost invisible, except over Maddie's hair.

"Perfecto.  You have to love nude stockings.  They really are nearly invisible on your face.  But they are visible over your hair.  But that is what a girl's headscarf is for – to hide a bad hair day or, in this case, a girl's gag," the woman laughed as she flipped Maddie's silk scarf, folded into a triangle, over her head.  She tied the ends in a square knot under her chin, tighter than a woman normally would.  Maddie could only squirm in the man's arms and the man was enjoying that a lot.

"Of course we have to do something about your friend's mouth, don't we?  She'll be awake soon and we can't have her screaming her head off so I think it's only fair that you donate your panties to her, don't you?"  The woman said as she put her hand under Maddie's miniskirt, and rubbed her crotch as deeply as she could.  This had gone far enough, Maddie thought.  As a woman knelt down to pull her panties off, Maddie kicked out with her right leg and caught the woman in the stomach with her knee.  It wasn't significant blow, but it caused the woman to stumbled backwards against the wall and lose her balance.  She slid down until her butt was on the floor.  The woman's face turned red with anger.  She got up and slapped Maddie several times with her open hand.  It was enough to sting, but not do any damage or leave marks.

"You stupid bitch!  This is not a game.  If you don't do exactly as you're told and behave yourself, you'll end up dead or you will wish that you were dead.  Do you understand?"  The woman hissed at her.  Maddie nodded as tears flowed down her cheeks.  Nothing like this ever happened in her daydream.

The woman knelt down, but this time off to the side where Maddie's legs were ineffectual.  She pulled down Maddie's satin panties and Maddie obediently lifted her legs so that they could be removed.  The woman went to Julie, forced open her slack mouth and stuffed Maddie's panties, which were turned inside out, fully into the unconscious woman's mouth.  She undid the small headscarf Julie was wearing and pulled it off her head.  The woman twirled it until it made a silk rope.  She forced the center of the scarf into Julie's mouth, pulled the ends behind her head and tightly knotted them.  She took the scarf that Maddie loved so much and folded it into a triangle, and then down into a band.  She placed the thickest part of the scarf over Julie's mouth, pulled the ends behind her head and double knotted them.  She then took another scarf, this one with a blue boarder and green stripes on a red background.  This was folded into a triangle and folded down a couple of times.  The thick silk scarf was tied over the hapless girl's eyes and the apex of the scarf extended to her chin, covering her entire face.  A third silk scarf, this one plain white and thinner than the others, was folded into a triangle and placed over Julie's head.  The ends were knotted very tightly under her chin, much tighter than any woman would wear a headscarf.  The ends were then pulled back behind Julie's head and knotted over the headscarf.

"This girl won't get her blindfold and gag off.  This headscarf will see to that.  And just to make sure she can't get the headscarf off…" the woman explained as she took out some bobby pins and secured the front of the headscarf to Julie's hair.  Some women were known to secure a headscarf with bobby pins if they were uncertain whether the scarf would stay in place.  Julie would have to rip her hair out to get the headscarf off.  This seemed like an evil use of things that girls and women used every day.

The woman pulled off Julie's skirt.  She ripped open the hapless girl's blouse and used a nasty looking knife to slice through her bra, exposing her breasts.  When the woman saw the puzzled look on Maddie's face, she smiled.

"No girl wants to be found like this so maybe she will struggle less, maybe not," the woman said and laughed again.  She pulled Julie's hands under her knees and used the length of cord from her purse to lashed them together, placing the knot out of reach of prying fingers.  She then wrapped cord under the girl's breasts, pinning Julie's arms to her side.  She took another length of cord and tied it to the cord under her breasts.  She forced it between Julie's legs, tying it to the rope that circled her back.  It was pulled tight so that the rough cord was embedded deep in the poor girl's twat.

"It won't really stimulate her that much, but it will remind her that she's a woman," the woman snickered.  She then wrapped rope around and between the girl's knees and then her ankles.  Each cord was tied off to the bound wrists under her knees.  Julie was tied into a ball and Maddie squirmed in the man's arms some more as she realized that these people were good at what they did, particularly the woman.  How could a woman do such things to another woman, she wondered.

Julie was becoming aware again, moaning, and becoming aware that she was helplessly bound and gagged and blindfolded.  The woman pushed her under the bench of the dressing room.  There was a metal brace underneath the bench.  The woman pulled Julie's bound ankles next to it and roped them to the brace.  This forced Julie to be on her back with her folded legs above her.  It also made it impossible for Julie to move or to bang anything with enough force to be heard by somebody.  The woman leaned down next to Julie's head.

"Can you hear me, Julie?  – Good.  If by some miracle you happen to get free before Tuesday morning, if you tell anyone about what happened, your friend and coworker Maddie will die.  Do you understand?  – Good," the woman said softly into Julie's ear.  She then pulled out a bottle and some cotton balls that women use to put on and take off makeup from her purse.  She took several cotton balls together and doused them with the liquid in the bottle.  The woman went to Julie again and lifted the scarf blindfold and held the cotton balls tightly against her nose.  Julie reacted violently or as violently as she could being bound like she was.  Julie struggles lasted for about a minute before she became still.  Maddie could now see the label on the bottle.  C – H – L – O – R – O – F – O – R – M.  Chloroform?  Maddie only thought that was used in the movies and on TV.  The woman put both of her hands under Julie's headscarf on either side of her head.  This also puzzled Maddie.

Once again, the woman seemed to sense Maddie's question, "I just put putty in Julie's ears.  It will harden and will become excellent ear plugs.  Someone could be talking right next to her and she will never hear it.  When she wakes up she will have no idea where she is or what's happened to her.  Most importantly, she will be helplessly bound, gagged, and blindfolded for hours, if not days."

Maddie was struck by something the woman had said.  These people knew their names.  This wasn't random and why wasn't she bound like Julie?   Oh shit, was she being kidnapped?  But why?  She had no money and her family had no money.  What would be the point?  She wanted to ask, but gagged like she was, it simply wasn't possible.  The man was wrapping cord around her body now, above and below her breasts.  He also tied her elbows, pulling them to the point that they nearly touched, not a comfortable position.  Tied as she was, Maddie felt like she had gained a breast size because her breasts stuck out, like she was showing them off.

The woman, who had left for a moment, returned with an expensive jacket.  "This should work perfectly," she smiled as she threw the jacket over Maddie's shoulders and buttoned it in front, "Now no one will see those nasty ropes."

"I'll go get the car and will bring it as close as I can to the back door," the man said as he turned and walked to the back door.  Maddie could see that he was clearly taking off his handkerchief mask as he went out the door.

"When we hear my friend's signal, we're going to walk out the back door.  You aren't going to make any fuss or try to scream or do anything, but walked directly to the car.  You see this knife?  I'm going to have that stuck in your side.  If you misbehave, I'll have no choice but to stick you and you'll be dead within seconds.  Then I'll go back inside and cut your friend.  Do you understand?"  The woman said in a matter of fact voice.  They both heard the honk of the horn.

The woman directed Maddie out the back door.  She told her to stay still, which Maddie did as the woman locked the store's back door.  It was about a 50 foot walk to were the car was.  It was a black car, Maddie had no idea what the make was.  It was banged up with dents and scratches.  Maddie's eyes darted from one side to the other.  She dared not actually turn her head because she felt the sharp point of the knife.  While there was no one in their immediate vicinity, she could probably see 20 or 30 people walking near the pier.  There were no shouts of alarm or people running toward them.  In fact, none of them were even looking her way.  None of them were aware that she was being abducted and Maddie had no way to alert them without risking her own life and perhaps their lives, as well.  As they approached the car, Maddie could see the man in the driver's seat, but she couldn't see his face.  That was obviously by design.  But when she got in the car maybe she would get a glimpse of him.  Maddie had obviously gotten a good look at the woman, but with the headscarf and dark glasses, it was difficult to tell much about her except the color of her lipstick – fire engine red – and perhaps her perfume that she wore.  As they reached the passenger door of the car, the woman stopped her.

"It's still very bright outside, Maddie.  I think you need to wear some sunglasses," the woman smiled, but her smile seemed evil to Maddie.  The woman took a pair sunglasses from her pocket and slid them over Maddie's eyes with the ends going under her headscarf.  Suddenly, everything was black and Maddie understood.  The sunglasses were blacked out with paint or something.  They were effectively a blindfold.  She heard the woman open the back door of the car and then she was directed  to sit on the backseat.  Once her feet were both in the car, Maddie felt cord being wrapped around them and then tightened.  The car door slammed and a few seconds later the door on the other side opened allowing the woman to sit beside her.

The car began to move and Maddie was determined to remember how long and where the car went.  She was going to be a good witness against these two.  As the car moved down the streets of the small hamlet, Maddie could sense that there were less and less people.  The woman snuggled up close to her putting her arm around Maddie shoulders, much to Maddie's dismay.  The last thing she wanted to do was to be close to this woman.

"I won't be wearing this scarf again," the woman said in a cheery voice, "I wonder what I should do with it?"  Maddie heard her pull the scarf off of her head.  It made sort of a whoosh sound.  Then she felt the scarf drag across her nylon stocking covered leg as the woman gathered it up in her hand, which gave Maddie a chill.  What happened next surprised Maddie, the woman forced her hand and the scarf into her crotch under her skirt.  The scarf was soft and felt good, but then the woman started to rub.  Crap, Maddie thought, this woman is trying to make me cum.  There was not much that Maddie could do about it, except squirm.  Although she was trying to resist the feeling, the soft silk caressed her most sensitive spots and her body was starting to react.  Maddie screamed into her gag, but not much noise came out and certainly no one outside the car heard her.  She could hear the man laughing as he drove, no doubt watching through the rearview mirror.  This was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to Maddie, to have a woman do this to her against her will.

Maddie was building toward a climax, one her body wanted, but she didn't.  She was just about to accept the fact and give into her body, when – the woman wrapped her arm around her head again as she continued her assault, but then she also forced a wad of cotton balls over her nose.  Maddie had no idea what chloroform smelled like, but she knew it was chloroform.  She bucked against the ropes and a woman.  She tried to wrench her head away to avoid the fumes that were designed to put her to sleep. At the same time her body was headed toward a powerful climax, for reasons she didn't understand. But then, she felt her body start to relax.  The woman was rubbing the scarf hard below and still had a tight hold on Maddie's head, keeping the chloroform soaked cotton balls under her nose so she could only breathe the fumes.  In her clouded mind Maddie wondered what the purpose of all this was.  Why was she being kidnapped?  Why would this woman bring her to the point of ecstasy only to force her to sleep.  She figured that the latter was a cruel game for the amusement of her kidnappers.  Maddie wondered if she was going to have a climax.  She no longer cared.  What was more important – would she actually wake up?  That was the last thought she had as she felt her eyes flutter behind the sunglasses and her mind went black.

No one paid any attention to the nondescript car as it moved at the speed limit down the coast.



To Be Continued...

Taken!! But Why??? Chapters 1 and 2
:iconmadokakawabata:'s alter ego Maddie seems to have gotten herself into a bit of trouble.  Working at a boutique in a central California coastal town back in 1968, Maddie has apparently run afoul of some bad people.  It is not obvious why this has happened - perhaps in an upcoming chapter we will find out?
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This story is a fetish bondage story, which includes both consensual and non-consensual sexual acts. If such things bother you, please don't read it.  It is tongue-in-cheek fiction. The author would not wish these things to happen to anyone, male or female, in real life.


Thomas Silk



Copyright 2018 Knotty Silk Scarf Productions


Chapter 28 – Out of Options



Wendy Larson looked out the window of Mrs. Bacchus' mansion.  There was the same car parked down the street.  Using binoculars, Wendy could see the back of the woman's head.  She had on the same silk headscarf with geometric shapes of dark blue, red, and black on the light blue background.  It was a very distinctive headscarf so Wendy was certain that this was the same woman.  Other than that, she could tell little about the woman.  Wendy went over to the phone and there was no dial tone.  This was a new development.  The phone had been in working order before she went to the club last night.  Wendy saw the maid, whose name was Iris, come into the room.

"How long has the phone been out?"  Wendy asked Iris.  The maid shrugged.

"Is someone coming out to fix it?"  Wendy asked.

"I haven't had time to drive to a phone booth to make a call," Iris said stating something she viewed as obvious.

Now telephone contact with Patsy was impossible, apparently.  Wendy considered going on a shopping trip and trying to give her tail the slip.  But so far, the woman had been very good at her job.  Wendy had the feeling that this whole case was spinning out of control.  Whoever ran the 49 Club seemed to be well ahead of the two PIs.  Obviously, they were suspicious of Wendy and even if they were not suspicious of Angela, she was supposed to be their next target.  It was something that made Wendy very nervous.  Angela had learned a lot since she became a licensed PI, but this type of undercover work was difficult even for seasoned veterans.  Wendy was sorry that Mrs. Bacchus had convinced them to take this case.  All that woman had to do was to tell them who Number 3 was.  Obviously, Mrs. Bacchus had goals that were far beyond those of Angela and herself.

Being stuck in this mansion, was not Wendy's idea of a vacation.  She was suspicious of the maid, who gave her the evil eye anytime they were in the same room.  She had no doubt that the maid would sell her out, given the chance.  Her attempts to make nice with the maid had totally failed.  She did find out that Mrs. Bacchus had told the maid that it was Angela and Wendy that had hit her over the head and left her bound and gagged during their previous work for Mrs. Bacchus.  In fact, it had been Mrs. Bacchus' murderous daughter who had slugged the unsuspecting maid and had left her hogtied and gagged.  Then it was Mrs. Bacchus who had chosen to leave the maid tied up while she and her assistant, Patricia, as spirited the daughter away to a foreign country.  They had left Angela and Wendy bound, gagged, and chloroformed in a seedy motel.  Mrs. Bacchus had paid the PIs quite handsomely, but she wasn't a person to be trusted.

Wendy paced around the mansion, trying to avoid the maid.  She had to warn Angela, even if she blew her own cover.  How could she contact Patsy?  As she wandered around the mansion, she saw the phone in the upstairs hallway.  She picked up the handset, but there was still no dial tone.  Then she noticed it.  Wendy pulled at the telephone cord and there was no resistance.  She pulled up the end of the cord, which had been cut.  Someone had deliberately cut the cord so Wendy couldn't contact Patsy.

Chapter 29 – Missed Appointment



Angela Morris sat by the fountain at the appointed time.  She kept scanning the students that were walking here and there on campus.  None of them were Patsy.  One thing about their receptionist, she was very punctual.

It was a much nicer day than the previous day.  The sky was clear, but there was a chill in the air and a stiff breeze.  Angela had on a white sweater over her brown dress that extended below her knees.  She had on matching medium heel shoes and cotton gloves.  Her blonde hair was covered with a brown and white checkered silk scarf, knotted under her chin.  She wore sunglasses because of the glare of the sun.

Angela could tell that she was being watched.  She didn't know by whom, but she had a chill go down her spine and her intuition felt that someone was watching her every move.  She casually looked around trying to figure out who was watching her.  There was just too many people, mostly students, walking across the campus.  There were some adults, most of whom she assumed were professors or teachers or perhaps a few graduate students.  She recognized some of the professors and teachers from previous days.  She had a difficult time believing that someone working to educate young people would be part of the group that ran the 49 Club.  Still, she had to keep an open mind.  It was unlikely that any of the students were part of the club, but anyone else might be.

The only person she was really suspicious of was the handyman who she had seen around campus.  He did seem to stare at her.  On the other hand, some professors and even male students, seemed to stare.  They always looked away when Angela glanced their way.  The handyman was an exception and it gave Angela the creeps.

Angela glanced at her watch.  She had to get to class, but after class did she dare go back to her office?  It wasn't like Patsy to miss an appointment and she was very worried about her.  She stood up and looked around one last time and then start to rapidly walk towards the building that housed her class.

Eunice and Bill watched Angela from a distance.  He still had on light brown raincoat that he wore when he made his visit to the Winston building earlier that morning.  Raincoat covered his slacks, shirt and tie that he was required to wear with his university job.  A brown fedora covered his close cropped hair.  Eunice smoked a cigarette, the second one since they had been watching their next target.  Eunice had on a black raincoat, black cotton gloves, and a white silk headscarf.  She liked contrast between the black and white of her wardrobe.  The black represented the evil in her and the white silk, the good.  Of course, when she was at the club, she was all evil and she loved that part of her.  She loved to dominate young women and force them to perform nasty sexual acts either for her or for the clients of the club.  One of her fantasies was to be grabbed by the membership and tied to the cross and used, over and over and over.  But it was just a fantasy.  At heart, she wasn't a submissive, but a dominant.

"I told you the mousy one wouldn't show up," Bill said with a smile.

"Did you fuck her?"  Eunice asked without changing her expression.

"You told me not to," Bill's face turned to scowl.  He hated it when his sister did this to him.  Ordering him to do one thing and then expecting him to do something else.

"Since when do you obey me?"  Eunice turned to look at him, a smile forming on her face.  She loved when she could control her brother.  "You think she'll get loose?"

"Not the way I tied her.  She will need help and if my suspicion is correct, no one will come to the PI office today.  I put her in a closet and gagged her really well.  She is chewing on her own panties.  They make a really good gag.  Fills the female mouth nicely.  Should we go back and pick her up tonight?  I could use her then," Bill suggested.  He had half a mind to go back and fuck her right now.  He was cursing himself for giving up the chance when he had it.  But he knew to go back during working hours would be extremely dangerous.

"We'll see what transpires today and will decide on the mousy one's fate this evening, assuming she is still indisposed," Eunice said as she dropped her cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with her high heel boot.  She had a class to teach.

Chapter 30 – I'm in Here!



Honestly, Patsy did not know where 'here' was.  She thought she was in the PI office, maybe Angela's office, and she was definitely in a closet.  She had talked to her fiancé, Detective Joe Smith, on the phone last night.  He was upstate on an investigation.  She didn't tell him what Mrs. Bacchus and Patricia had done to her because he would've flown down immediately and would've arrested them, if he could find them.  But now, she was once again tied up and gagged, by a man this time.

Patsy had been sure that the man was going to use her.  Like most women, she could tell with a man was in heat and this guy was in heat.  Besides, she knew that he had taken off her panties and had explored her twat, probably with his fingers.  At first, Patsy didn't know where her panties were and then she realized that he had stuffed them in her mouth.  She was grateful that she had change panties this morning, at least they were reasonably clean.  But now the cotton was soaked through from her saliva.  The benefit was that the wad in her mouth was somewhat smaller.  The disadvantage was that having wet cotton in your mouth – it was simply gross.  Patsy had confirmed her suspicions by exploring the wad with her tongue.  She had identified elastic band of the panties and even the label that had been sewn into the seam of a leg opening.  The label was dangerously close to her throat and occasionally caused her to retch, as did the thought of having her own panties in her mouth.

Somewhat instinctively, perhaps because she could smell her own perfume, Patsy knew that her own scarves were tied over her mouth and her eyes.  Both were tied very tightly, making it unlikely that she could dislodge them.  The scarf over her mouth was already becoming damp where her mouth was, which made the gag even more uncomfortable.  The knot at the back of her neck was tied so tightly that it had produced a sore spot, even through her hair.  Given how she was tied, the man had wanted her to stay quiet for an extended period of time.

It was obvious that the man didn't care about her comfort, only that she was helpless and stayed that way.  Patsy was tied in a sitting position, with her legs crossed indian style.  She was roped in that position and all the other cords that were wrapped around her body were designed to keep her in the sitting position.  It was an ingenious way to torture somebody.  All she wanted to do was stretch out her body and relax, but she couldn't.  She also couldn't bang her head against anything to attract attention.  Rope was looped around her neck and attached to her legs so that she couldn't leaned back against the wall.  Her body screamed in agony.

The man had pulled apart her blouse and had pushed down her bra down so that he could fondle her breasts.  Patsy should have been enraged at what he had done to her, but somehow having this bastard cop a feel was the least of her problems.  For reasons she didn't understand, her nipples on her heaving breasts were still hard.

It wasn't until Patsy had started to struggle that she had realized how evil this man was.  She didn't know why she hadn't noticed it before, perhaps because she was rigid as a statue when he was around.  But when she tried to squirm and move to get more comfortable – she had no hope of actually escaping at the moment – that was when she felt it.  The bastard had tied a rope between her legs and when she moved, Patsy felt intense stimulation.  It was more than the rope between her legs, she realized.  Something rough, knots in the rope?,  was actually tightly embedded deep in her twat.  Depending on how she moved, whatever it was would move back and forth.  It wasn't a pleasant feeling like when she had her fiancé's manhood moving in her.  What was worse, there something else stimulating her clit.  Patsy realized that the purpose of this was not to provide her some level of enjoyment, but it was designed to minimize her struggling.  If she struggled and any woman's instinct would be to struggle against being helplessly bound, Patsy might get one climax before the struggling would become painful.  Yes, that man was a real bastard, but he knew what he was doing.

There was what sounded like a faint knock on the door – the door to the PI office?  It really didn't matter, she might be rescued if only she could make enough noise.

"Help, I'm in here!"  Patsy screamed through her gag.  What came out was what sounded like muted humming.  The person knocked again and Patsy screamed again.  Finally, Patsy heard faint footsteps walking away.  Her gag had done its job.  If the person had been in the office and a lot closer, maybe they would've heard Patsy's cries for help or maybe her cries never left the closet.  Tears ran down Patsy's face under the scarf blindfold.  Would anyone find her?  And then Patsy remembered what the man had said as he left, "I'll see you later, mousy one."  The only thing worse than not being found would be if that man came back to do what?  Use her?  Almost certainly.  Kill her?  Perhaps.

And why did he call her 'mousy one?'  What he had done to her was bad enough, but why did he have to insult her too?  A new round of tears flowed down her cheeks under her blindfold causing both the blindfold and her scarf gag to become wet.

Chapter 31 – Maid to Be a Problem



Wendy saw that the maid was in the kitchen.  She knew that she had to do something and she came up with a plan.  Wendy went to the hallway where there was a coat rack.  She quietly pulled the maid's raincoat off of the rack and her headscarf, a white affair with pink roses on it.  She put on the raincoat.  It was getting warm outside, but she had to disguise herself to get past the woman in the car and she could think of no other way to do it.  Wendy tossed the scarf over her head and knotted it under her chin using a mirror to ensure that she covered most of her hair.  The maid's purse was also hanging on the coat rack.  Patsy opened it and located the maid's keys to her car.

Wendy checked the kitchen again, but couldn't see the maid.  She went around the corner toward the side door, hoping to sneak out of the house.  The maid, Iris, was standing between her and the door, with her arms crossed.  Wendy noticed that in one hand were several coils of cord.

"So now you stoop to stealing a maid's coat and scarf?"  Iris hissed in a sarcastic tone.

"I was just borrowing them so that I could get past that woman in the car, who is keeping an eye on me.  I didn't think you would mind given that Mrs. Bacchus told you to help me anyway you could," Wendy said with a smile.

"Mrs. Bacchus doesn't pay me much.  The woman in car offered me $500 to make sure that you stayed here until tomorrow afternoon and to make sure that you couldn't make a phone call or receive one.  $500 is three months salary.  So I'm going to make sure you stay here.  As you already found out, I have disabled the phones," Iris said with confidence.  The maid was about Wendy size and fairly good looking.  Wendy could see the muscles in the maid's arms tighten in anticipation of a fight.  Wendy was trained in hand-to-hand fighting, mostly defensive moves designed to buy time if a man attacked her.  The ultimate goal was to run away, but this was different.  Wendy had to overpower this woman or it looked like she was going to end up being tied up, assuming that's what the cord was for.  Some of the techniques she knewwouldn't work against a woman attacker.

"I can pay you to let me go," Wendy said.

"You couldn't pay me enough money.  This group plays for keeps.  They wouldn't like it if I reneged on our deal," Iris said.

"I could tie you up with those cords, gag you with a scarf.  You could tell the woman that I overpowered you," Wendy suggested.  Iris laughed.

"I have a better idea.  How about I tie you up?  I particularly liked the idea of gagging you with the scarf.  The woman said that I might have to resort to that.  They are very suspicious of you and they want to make sure you stay put.  She was the one that gave me these cords, just in case," Iris said with a snicker, "What is a saying?  We can do this the easy way or the hard way.  Either way, I'll win."

"Okay, you win," Wendy said as she put out her hands.  The maid shook her head and indicated for her to turn around.  Wendy did as she was told and put her hands behind her back.  She knew, however, if she allowed herself to be tied up, she was as good as dead.  Warily, Iris approached her quarry, uncoiling one of the lengths of cord.

When Wendy felt the cord touch her wrists, she yanked her wrists away, and spun around taking the maid by surprise.  Her hands went directly for the maid's throat clutching it as tightly as she could.  Iris' hands were constrained by the cord she had been holding so it took her a few seconds to rid herself of the cord.  Then she punched Wendy in the stomach.  The short punches were effective and debilitating, but Wendy held her hold on the woman's neck searching for just the right spot.  The maid's hands went up to fend off Wendy's attack on her throat.  The maid was definitely stronger than Wendy, but Wendy had one of advantage and pressed hard.  She knew that she couldn't hold that spot for long, but would it be long enough?

Suddenly, Iris' eyes open wide and her hands lost her grip on Wendy's arms.  The maid's arms fell to her side and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head.  The woman went limp and Wendy allowed her to slide to the floor.  The PI's attack on the maid wasn't designed to strangle her.  It was unlikely that she would have had time to render her unconscious that way.  Instead, Wendy aimed for the major artery in the neck, which can put someone out in a matter of seconds and if held long enough, would kill them.  Wendy was fortunate that the maid was so overconfident, but the maid was right that in a prolonged fight she would probably beat Wendy.

Wendy knelt down, checked the maid's breathing, and to make sure that she was really out cold.  She would live, but Wendy had no way of knowing how long the maid would be out.  She quickly undid the maid's belt and unbuttoned the top of the one-piece outfit.  She pulled it over the maid's head leaving her with only her bra, panties, garter, stockings, and shoes still in place.  Wendy turned the maid over onto her stomach, pulled her arms behind her back, and lashed her wrists together with a length of cord.  She took off the maid's raincoat, but left her headscarf in place.  She located one of her headscarves on the hat rack.  It was already folded into a triangle.  Wendy folded it down a couple times to produce a band about 2 inches wide.  She positioned it over the maid's slack mouth, pulled the ends behind her head and double knotted them.  The gag was probably not needed in the big house, but Wendy saw no reason to take any chances.  For the time being, Iris, the maid, was quite helpless.

It was about 10 minutes later when Wendy realized that Iris was awake.  The maid was trying to say some very unladylike things through the scarf gag, which worked better than Wendy had thought it would.  Wendy had already put on the maid's uniform, while still wearing her headscarf, and was now tying her shoes in place.  The uniform fit okay, but the shoes were a little loose and not that comfortable.  Still, small details can make the difference when you trying to fool somebody, particularly a woman, who is more likely to pay attention to details.  Finishing with the shoes, Wendy stood up and walked over to the woman on the floor, who was staring daggers at her.

"What is that you said?  Oh yes, we can do this the easy way or the hard way," Wendy said with a smile as she showed the maid her gun.  When she had fought the maid, her gun had been in her room because she didn't think she would need it.  Obviously, she had been wrong, although she wasn't sure that pointing a gun at the maid would have prevented the fight.  The maid would've assumed, correctly so, that pointing the gun at her at that point would've been a bluff.  It was no bluff now.  Well, Wendy wouldn't shoot her, but hitting her over the head with the gun butt was a tempting possibility.

Wendy pulled the maid up and marched her down to the wine cellar in her stocking feet.  The maid hesitated at the open door after Wendy had retrieved the key to open it.  The maid knew that someone bound and gagged in the wine cellar could go unnoticed for days, perhaps even weeks.  She could only hope that Wendy wouldn't leave her in the wine cellar for long.

Wendy forced Iris to sit in the wooden chair that was still in the wine cellar.  That chair and the wine cellar figured prominently in their previous case with Mrs. Bacchus.  Wendy made sure that the maid's arms were over the back of the chair and then she proceeded to tie her to the chair.  Each leg was tied to a leg of the chair and cord was wrapped around her body securing her to the chair.

"That should hold you until I get back.  Don't look so glum, at least you don't have to clean the house today," Wendy laughed.  She waved at the maid and started to turn out the light, but decided against it.  It was bad enough being tied up in this place.  Being tied up in the pitch black would be much more scary.  Wendy smiled and closed the door, locking it securely.  She put the key back in its regular spot.

Couple minutes later she went out the side door of the house and walked quickly to the maid's car.  She got in and started the car, backing out of the driveway.  It was at that point that she was closest to the woman in the parked car.  She avoided looking at her as she drove away.  Wendy did look in her rear view mirror to see if the woman was following her.  She wasn't.

Chapter 32 – Deadly Decisions



Beatrice saw the the maid drive away.  She had a split second decision to make.  Did she follow the maid or stay where she was?  It all happened very quickly and, although she wouldn't admit it to her sister or brother, she was unprepared when the maid had come out and driven away.  Her deal with the maid was that she stay put with the Wendy woman.  Beatrice had paid her a lot money.  Why would she violate their agreement?  That made no sense.  And then she realized that she had been duped.  That wasn't the maid, that was the Wendy woman.  Damn!  Then what happened to the maid?

Beatrice decided that she needed to check the house.  If the Wendy person answered the door, she would pretend to be lost.  If the maid came to the door, she would beat the crap out of her and take back the money she had paid her.  If no one came to the door, Beatrice decided that she would invite herself in.

No one came to the door so Beatrice tried to door knob.  The door was open.  She called out as she entered, but there was no response.  Beatrice took the gun out of her purse, just in case.  She wandered around the first floor and no one was there.  The woman quietly went upstairs, looking in all the bedrooms.  She found the bedroom where the woman called Wendy Banks was apparently sleeping.  It was one of the smaller bedrooms in the large house.  Beatrice smiled because the maid's bedroom was almost as large.  Beatrice went through the suitcase, which had a label on it.  The label had a name and it was not Wendy Banks.  It was Wendy Larson.  So the woman was a plant.  Their suspicions were correct.  Beatrice wondered what Mrs. Bacchus was up to.

In searching Wendy Larson's bag, Beatrice came across something that made her smile – a sex toy.  It was a vibrator.  Other than that and a couple paperback books, there was nothing but clothes.

Having checked the two floors, the only place a person could be was the basement.  Beatrice was even more suspicious now, learning that their new recruit was definitely a plant.  Holding her gun tightly, she quietly walked down to the first floor and into the kitchen.  It was there that one could get to the basement by a wooden stairway.  She opened the door to the stairway and switched on a light.  Beatrice listened for any movement or sounds.  There were none.  If someone was waiting for her downstairs to spring a trap, they were very quiet.  But Beatrice didn't suspect a trap.  It simply didn't make any sense to try to hide in the basement and spring a trap there.  Beatrice would've heard a commotion before she came in the house of someone trying to get down to the basement to hide.  If anyone was down in the basement, she expected that they were quietly restrained.  She had suggested to the maid that she tie up this Wendy Larson character, if she caused any problems.  Maybe that's what she did and what better place to stash somebody so that they would be out of sight.  Maybe that was the maid driving off to do errands, knowing that her charge was safely bound and gagged down the basement.  Beatrice would soon find out.

Beatrice slowly went down the steps, each creaking under her feet.  As basements go, it was nice enough.  There was a nice tile floor, but the walls were still concrete.  She searched the basement and could find no one.  Beatrice was puzzled because the basement seemed small.  She then realized that the wooden door at one end of the basement might lead to significant room.  The door was locked.  On a whim, Beatrice knocked on the door.  She put her ear to the door and could hear faint noises which she recognized as coming from a gagged woman's mouth.  Beatrice smiled.  Maybe the maid really did her job and did it well.  Beatrice looked around for key and there it was hanging on the wall.  She took the key off the hook and unlocked the door.  With gun in hand, she slowly opened the door to what turned out to be a wine cellar.  What a great place to hold a captive, Beatrice thought.  And then she saw the maid, bound to a chair and gagged.  Beatrice sighed.  Definitely not who she had hoped to see.

Beatrice walked over to the maid and looked at her.  What a pitiful sight.  The maid looked at her with anticipation, obviously hoping that she would untie her.  Beatrice shook her head.  She pulled down on the apex of the scarf that gagged the maid.  The scarf didn't budge as it was tied tight enough to distort the maid's face.  Beatrice put the gun in her purse and loosened the scarf's knot and then pulled the scarf down.

"What happened?  I expected to see the Wendy bitch tied up here, not you," Beatrice asked with a disgusted look on her face.

"I was about to tie her up, but she tricked me and suddenly I was out like a light and woke up stripped of my uniform, tied up and gagged.  She brought me down here and left me here just a short while ago," Iris said and then pleaded, "Please untie me.  I have a score the cell with that bitch."

"All in good time, dear.  I saw Wendy Larson drive off.  First, where is the money that I gave you?"  Beatrice asked and the maid gave her a puzzled look, "You screwed up big time.  You can't expect me to pay for that.  You'll get your money back  if you do exactly what I say.  But first I need the money back."  The maid told her where was in her bedroom and Beatrice then pulled the scarf up and tightened it over Iris' mouth.  The maid glared at her as Beatrice walked out of the wine cellar, leaving the door wide open.

Beatrice went to the maid's quarters and retrieved the money she had paid her.  She had a major decision to make, but in Beatrice's mind there really was only one answer.  She went upstairs to Wendy Lawson's room and retrieved some things that she would need.  She then hurried back down to the basement.

Beatrice smiled at the maid as she entered the wine cellar, giving the maid hope that she would be untied soon.

"Were going to make sure that Wendy Larson pays for what she's done to you.  Unfortunately, that requires that you stay tied up and be gagged more effectively," Beatrice said as she pulled the scarf off the maid's mouth.  Before Iris could say anything, Beatrice grabbed her chin and force fed one of a woman's cotton handkerchief into her mouth.  She then pulled out another handkerchief, wadded it, and pushed it past the maid's teeth.  She did that two more times until Iris couldn't close her mouth.  Beatrice took the nice silk scarf, which had butterflies on it, twirled it into a silk rope, and tied the scarf tightly in the maid's mouth.  The scarf compacted all the handkerchiefs packed into the maid's mouth.  Iris looked at Beatrice in horror.

"There – that is much better.  That would keep any woman quiet.  Those are Miss Larson's handkerchiefs.  Don't worry, dear.  I'll be calling the police and Miss Larson will pay for what she's done to you or perhaps I should say, she will pay for what she's going to do to you.  It seems you got into a fight with Miss Larson and when you wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know, she tied you up, tortured you, and then murdered you," Beatrice said with a smile.  Iris tried to rise out of the chair she was bound to.  She shook her head violently.  The maid cried out incoherently through her gag, which did its job well.  Beatrice waited until the maid calm down.

"Iris dear, you became expendable as soon as you failed to tell me that Wendy Banks was a plant.  Don't shake your head.  You knew and you chose not to tell me.  Now, as they say in the movies, you know too much and you are no longer of any use to us.  Well, that isn't exactly true.  If this Wendy Lawson is blamed for your murder, then we have killed two birds with one stone, sort to speak.  So in a way, you can still be of use to us, but only if you're dead.  Otherwise, Mrs. Bacchus or Miss Larson or the police would make you talk and you would tell them about me.  I just can't allow that to happen," Beatrice said and smiled broadly, "That doesn't mean I don't have a heart, even a condemned woman should have the last orgasm or two.  So let's make your death as pleasurable for you as possible."  Beatrice showed the frightened maid the vibrator she had found in Wendy's suitcase.

"Perhaps a little later.  Let's start with some foreplay," Beatrice said as she put the vibrator down and picked up a nasty looking knife.  The maid squirmed in her bonds as Beatrice sliced through her bra and began fondling her breasts.

Chapter 33 – Lost and Found



Wendy drove like a maniac through the downtown traffic, which had lightened up since rush-hour, but was still heavy.  It took her 45 minutes to get to the Winston building.  She parked in the basement parking lot in the space assigned to their office.  Being embarrassed wearing a maid's uniform, Wendy ran up the stairs instead of taking the elevator.  She was totally out of breath by time she got to the sixth floor.  Wendy carefully opened the door from the stairs and was pleased to see that with the exception of the telephone switchboard operator, in her cubicle, there was no one on the floor.  She walked to the door of Morris and Larson Investigations and put the key in the lock.

"Hello, Miss Larson.  Pretending to be a maid today?"  The telephone operator called out in a loud voice.  Wendy waved at the woman and tried to hide the fact that her face had turned crimson with embarrassment.  Then she stopped and asked the woman if she had seen Patsy today.  The woman shook her head and then had to deal with an incoming call.

Wendy slipped into the office.  She could immediately see that it had been ransacked.  Wendy called out for Patsy and heard something coming from Angela's office.  She quickly moved into the office.  There was a chair jammed under the closet door.  She pulled the chair away, opened the door and there was Patsy, half naked, tied in a sitting position.

Wendy quickly pulled the scarf that blindfolded her over Patsy's head, removing it.  Patsy's eyes were pleading with her.  Wendy tried to pull the scarf that was gagging Patsy down and over her chin, but it wouldn't budge.  She took off her cotton gloves and reached behind Patsy's head, picking at the knots that secured the scarf.  It took what seemed an eternity, but finally the scarf loosened and Wendy pulled it off of Patsy's mouth.  The scarf was damp with Patsy spittle and was marred with a large smear of her red lipstick.  Wendy doubted that the scarf could be salvaged as an fashion accessory.  Patsy moaned and Wendy realized that her mouth was stuffed.  She delicately pulled out a pair cotton panties, which were totally soaked.  She tossed them away.  Patsy coughed and retched as saliva rolled down her chin.

"Are you okay, Patsy?"  Wendy asked, realizing what a stupid question that was, "Who did this to you?  What happened?"  It took Patsy a couple minutes before she could really start talking.  Wendy untied the loop of rope that went around her neck and Patsy gave an involuntary sigh of relief.  Patsy tried to take her mind off of what Wendy was doing by giving a detailed account of what happened.  Actually it wasn't that detailed.  It was more like – someone slugged me from behind.  I woke up bound, gagged and blindfolded.  He played with me for a while and then left, suggesting that he would return.

"That bastard," Wendy whispered when she saw the cord embedded between Patsy's legs, "Do you want me to finish untying you and let you take care of what he did to you down there or do you want me to remove it?"  Wendy looked at Patsy with concern in her eyes.

"Please, just get it out of me," Patsy pleaded.  Wendy carefully untied the crotch rope from Patsy's body rope in front.  As gingerly as she could, she pulled the string of knots out of Patsy's twat.

"Oh.  Ah.  Oh.  Oh.  Ah," Patsy uttered as Wendy pulled the knots out, "Thank the heavens.  Thank you, Wendy.  I feel much better.  Now please untie my hands and feet."

"We have to warn Angela," Wendy explained what she had experienced the night before and that Angela was supposed to be their next target.  Exactly how they were going to do that was unclear.  They didn't know where she was or how to find her.  Angela was someplace on the University's campus, but neither of them knew exactly where she was.

"We both have a more immediate problem.  That man ripped up my clothes.  My skirt is okay, but my blouse and bra are in ruins.  My stockings have runs in them and even a couple holes.  I could always wear the raincoat, but it is getting rather warm for that and being bare breasted underneath could be problematic.  And you really can't go dressed as a maid.  We both need a change of clothes before we go hunting for Angela," Patsy said as she used her crossed arms to cover up her bare breasts.


To Be Continued...

Angela Morris, PI - The 49 Club - Chapters 28-33
The 3rd book of the Angela Morris, PI series has Private Investigators Angela and Wendy Larson investigating The 49 Club, a sex club that uses extreme measures to satisfy its wealthy and powerful members.  

Chapter 28 - Wendy is trapped in the Bacchkus mansion with no way to contact Patsy or warn Angela.
Chapter 29 - Patsy misses her appointment with Angela.
Chapter 30 - Patsy is a bit tied up.
Chapter 31 - Wendy has a run in with Mrs. Bacchus' maid.
Chapter 32 - Beatrice come to the rescue and makes a deadly decision.
Chapter 33 - Wendy finds Patsy.


So if you want lots of bondage, sex, chloroformed women, KOs - read Angela Morris - The 49 Club.

Cover Illustration by the remarkable :iconmileshendon:  A version without the text is published on his page.
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:iconleptitloup:
LePtitLoup Featured By Owner Jun 9, 2018
SignatureSelynna by LePtitLoup  
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:iconmalasorte504:
Malasorte504 Featured By Owner May 17, 2018
Thanks for the watch.
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:iconlovegaggeddamsel:
lovegaggeddamsel Featured By Owner Apr 27, 2018
Hi Thomas...i'm a fan of old site and now I'm a fan of your "Lady Spies" stories and similar...I'm happy about your collaboration with Mileshendon...i'm fan and friend of Miles...and he is a fantastic DID drawer!!Together BlackProf and Erikson1,Miles is the best on Da...his drawing is amazing!!I love especially 3 types of gags for DID fantasy...otm/otn/stuff gags...i always loved otm and otn since I was a child...while stuff gag is recent love....about stuff gag I like when is easily a big hanky wadded,folded and stuffed in damsel mouth without other gag over...as in Chinese dramas/movies...but I love it when is together at cleave or otm too....Cleave + stuff gag,I love especially in Centaur Celluloid videos..Centaur gagging is sexy with very big stuff gag secured by cleave...I have understood a thing about gags...otm,cleave,tape ecc...without stuffing are only aesthetic gags...Ok,but a question...an otm tied very very tight behind the neck,can silence enough effectively girl/damsel without stuffing????Is it more effective than cleave without stuffing....I Know that you don't Like gags not effective...but I remember your fantastic video, where beautiful Chloe Night is tied in the bed by "bad" Loren Chance....Loren gags Chloe easily with a big hanky wadded and stuffed in girl mouth...i love that video,because stuff gag is rare in bondage scenarios...😊
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:iconknottysilkscarf:
knottysilkscarf Featured By Owner Apr 27, 2018
Many thanks for the kind words.  

A general comment on stuff gags without something to secure them - If someone is with the person, such a gag is okay.  However, cloth stuff gags by themselves are not secure.  Whatever you can stuff in someone's mouth can be easily pushed out.  Probably why you don't see them that often in bondage videos.

The problem with stuffing with a cleave is that it is often possible to leverage the stuffing with the tongue and push it past the cleave out of the mouth.  I have come to favor stuffing with a tightly tied OTM.  Of course, tape is another form of OTM.

It is always true that a cleave or OTM gag with stuffing will be more effective than without stuffing.  Having said that, a simple OTM or cleave gag might be sufficient depending on the situation.  But a lot depends on what is used for the gag and how it is tied.  A OTM gag will muffle more than a cleave with the same material, unless the material is very thin.  If you need to keep a damsel from being heard outside and she is in a house, a tightly tied OTM will probably do the job and should be secure.  A thick cleave gag might also work.

I find that for OTM gags, even the classic man's handkerchief, can be relatively effective in some situations, but a lot depends on the material, linen vs cotton vs whatever.  Tying them really tight is very important.
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:iconlovegaggeddamsel:
lovegaggeddamsel Featured By Owner Apr 28, 2018
Thanks for all the answers at my questions...you are very kind😊.For me otm is greater than cleave..i prefer it aesthetically...I like cleave only if there's visible mouth stuffing,or if cleave is very very thick...i hate thin cleave...it is ridiculous...For me otm is iconic gag for DID fantasy...no doubt about it....first damsel in distress were with otm in movies...Sweet Gwendolyn first appearance in front page John Willie comic is with otm...Irving Klaw sets DID girls were always with otm...Cleave is not so iconic gag for me...I don't like tape...for me is boring gag....it's very easy gag girl with adhesive...i prefer cloth tied tight rear the neck...more elegant...more iconic.Otm+stuff gag is very effective and great aesthetically...the best in the world for me...but I'm enough happy to know by you that otm without stuffing tied tight could be a good gag to silence damsel in distress...very few people like otm...all love tape or horrible ball gag....ball gag is bdsm object....it isn't in DID range!!DID fantasy is very different thing...I love DID fantasy but I hate bdsm....
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:iconmega23101982:
mega23101982 Featured By Owner Apr 9, 2018
A no am a persistent pain but in my opinion the clips you produced on silenced ladies were ground breaking and led to so many people people doing spin offs today, I would love the old back caterloge to become available? Trust me a would purchase lots, thanks
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:iconknottysilkscarf:
knottysilkscarf Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2018
I appreciate your kind works on the video clips.  The problem is that the photo stories and the clips were never cataloged.  That is now in progress, but given time considerations, it is very slow going.  I hope at some point all of the clips will be available.
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:iconmega23101982:
mega23101982 Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2018
thanks mate for taking time to do this really appreciated
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:iconjimi-von-broadway:
Jimi-von-Broadway Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2018   Traditional Artist
Thanks for the watch and the faves.
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