The Church of Silence (F+/F+) [FINISHED 2nd Feb]

[Risperdaltied]

Late to the party - but what a party!

Loving your stories as always!

[RopeBunny]

[mention]Risperdaltied[/mention] maybe I should just message you whenever I begin a new story

Thanks all for the continued support.

[BoundJana]

Another well written continuation ^-^

[RopeBunny]

010.
Denise.

"Right," sitting on the edge of the bed, perching really, since there isn't much room between November and the edge, "so, girls." Putting November's gag carefully down between them, next to Sierra's, whilst beside me Petra- already unchained and with her gag removed -watches on, waiting patiently. "There needs to be some rules here. Okay?"
"Sure." Sierra gives me a shy smile, and a small nod, her very skinny frame still stretched tight to the point her tiny breasts are all but invisible. Beside her November nods too. "India," she asks me, "right?"
"It'll do for now." I nod. "I just want you two to understand what's happening, that's all." I dangle my stolen keys. "These aren't supposed to be here, with me. So, if I'm caught, then me and," patting November's upper leg, "anyone with me is going to get in trouble."
"And that's why the rules?" November nods. "Makes sense."
"Good." I smile, pointing at Petra. "It's the same rules for all four of us. I'm not being harsh on the two of you."
"So what do you need us to do?" Sierra gives me, all of us really, another of her shy smiles. "Because." She laughs, briefly. "I could really use a glass of water."
"I think we can do a little better then water." I grin, turning to see Petra smiling too. "Listen then." Returning my attention to the chained pair. "Mostly, the rule is stay quiet." I point out of the door. "None of the other Sisters knows about this. Let's keep it that way by not being heard, or seen. Got it?"
"Right."
"Quiet like a mouse." Sierra smiles, nodding too. "Other then that." I shrug. "As bossy as it sounds," pointing at my chest, "I'm the boss here. So do as I say. Please." I look from one to the other. "I, maybe, have some ideas on how to get out of all this, so. If either of you screws me over then. Well." I laugh. "If I don't wind up tied in room four for the next year, then I'll make sure you are."
"Quite like being tied up." Sierra mumbles. Which of course makes the three of us grin. "Honestly." I tut. "Just. If you can live with doing as I say, then you get to enjoy more freedom then you were. Deal?"
"Deal."
"Deal." Echoes Sierra, blushing still at her spoken aloud, but probably meant only for her, comment.

"Don't worry," I tease the skinny blue haired girl as I unchain them both, "I'm sure if you ask her Michelle will be happy to put you on room four duty every time the Silent God decides it's time."
"You mean everytime Michelle decides." November, already free, shakes her head. "Crazy rope obsessed girl."
"True." I nod, finishing up on Sierra. "Gotta hand it to her though, the whole set up is very clever."
"But why does she though?" Sierra, standing up with Petra's help, asks. "What's the point of all this? Do you think maybe there really is a Silent God?"
"Can't say not without proof." I shrug. "Maybe up here," Petra taps her head, "for her, there is."
"Maybe she's just crazy." November grins, then gives Sierra's small pert butt a pat. "Or horny for some tied up skinny tattooed girl pussy."
"Hey." Sierra tries to look annoyed, but she's blushing, clearly she really does love being tied up. "Shush girls." I grin. "Don't worry about it." Giving Sierra a hug, then pointing at Petra. "She likes being tied up too."
"Only by you." Petra blows me a kiss. I blow her one back. "Point is," I tell November and Sierra, "we don't know anything about this Church, but I intend to find out. Now." Putting a finger to my lips, walking to the door and checking the corridor outside, still half expecting to see Michelle, even after these several days of having fun with her keys. I'm still at least half waiting to be caught, to be trussed up, now with my three friends, and all of us prehaps racing to see who can orgasm first. The brief thought, skipping across my brain as I do a left right check, makes me smile. I turn back around, gesturing the others. "Come on."

"Wow." November nods, taking it all in. "Are those," Sierra, beside her, points, "chocolates?"
"Yes they are." I slip past the girls, into the small room. "You can have a wine," I look over the bottles, trying to pick one which I feel- based on what it is and where it is -won't be missed, "and chocolates." Turning back around, one thing in each hand, holding them out. I smile. "Call it a one time treat."
"Only one time?" November looks past me, at the stacked boxes. "Yes." Following her gaze. "Sorry girls, any more and we risk the fact being spotted."
"Yeah." November nods, whilst Sierra has already taken the wine off into the kitchen to open it up. "Got to be real careful huh?"
"If we don't want to get caught," I nod, "yeah, we do."
"Fine." Shrugging, taking the box. "One time is better then no times right?"
"Definitely." I nod, the four of us now stood around in the kitchen. I look at the other two as Petra heads for the doorway out into the dining hall, and the rest of the mansion. "You two head towards the library." I point, roughly, in the right direction. "There's a room with an old sofa, perfect for a relaxing drink."
"But," Sierra puts up a hand as I begin walking off after Petra, "where will you be?"
"Exploring upstairs."
"We can't come too?"
"Oh." I think. "Well," shrugging, "I just thought you'd like to relax and drink, not drink and walk around."
"We're forced to lay down every night," November points out, "I'm good with having a wander."
"And," Sierra takes a swig of the newly opened bottle, before passing it across to November, "I'd rather stay with you two anyway." Another shy smile. "If that's okay?"
"Sure it is," nodding, thinking it'll actually spare my paranoia and worry if I know where they are anyway, "come help us solve the mystery of the Silent Church." Sierra giggles, making me and November smile. "Are you coming?" Petra, having come back when she no doubt realised I wasn't following. "We're all coming." I tell her. "Oh." Looking from me to the others, frowning briefly, then she shrugs. Nods. "Okay."
"Going to Scooby Doo the crap out of this mission." Sierra giggles again, like a excitable little girl despite only having had two or three swigs of wine at best. Shaking my head I take the lead, steering us all, quietly save for the occasional giggle, towards the four numbered, and one blank, doors up in the roof.

"That." November says it for all of us. "Is a lot of computers."

The room, the unnumbered room, is small. Not cramped small, but smaller then rooms one through four. It's a room of two symmetrical halves, left and right as you come in the door. Two desks per side, and on each desk, a computer, though calling any of the four arrangements computers feels kind of like an insult. To them. On the desk is a keyboard, beside which sits a wireless mouse, and on the other side some kind of mixing desk looking panel complete with two joysticks and several dozen switches. Suspended from the wall above and in front of each desk are six monitors, two rows of three. There's only one chair, a posh looking black thing with armrests and wheels, currently closest to the desk with a '4' carved into it's dark wooden top. The other desks are similarly numbered. Desk four also has a very thick A4 sized notebook resting on it, the kind filled with lined pages that students use for college. Leaving the other three at the doorway, I step closer for a look.

Discovering the notebook to be full of notes, obviously. Page after page of what appear to be instructions for, I think based on my own limited tech skills- I knew enough to boot up the programs I used, enough to be able to move all the money around -running the complex looking setups on each desk. "Any of you good with tech?" I ask, turning with the notebook in hand, finding the other three exploring the room too. "Huh?" Petra looks up, having been about to prod at desk two's keyboard. "Probabaly best we don't touch." I hold up a hand. "Sierra," glancing to the side, catching the skinny blue haired girl as she was about to wiggle one of desk four's joysticks, "you too."
"But." Pointing at all the buttons. "How can there be sooo many switches, and I'm not allowed to push any of them?"
"Sorry." I grin, she's just, at times it seems, such a kid. "For all we know," I gesture around the room, "this place could be linked to Michelle's private rooms across the mansion."
"She can't be that smart though," November, stood beside me, peering over my shoulder at the book, "to need all these instructions."
"No." Shaking my head. "Certainly seems like someone else set this up, then told her how it all works."
"How what all works though?"
"Best bet," I tell November, since Petra's across the room, and Sierra's sat in the chair, spinning herself in circles, "this is one desk per room. And all that equipment, somehow, controls the cameras."
"And the," waving her arms at one of the monitors, "God thing. The gagged lady on the flatscreen. Right?"
"Most likely." I point, having just seen. "See." November looks, and nods, seeing for herself the slim black headset, the kind gamers wear with a built in mic coming down from one side. "No doubt that's got some kind of multichannel type deal." I comment, November nodding. "Wearing it, Michelle can probably switch between rooms at will."
"Hey, girls," Petra's voice, from the back of the room, has us turning to look, "come see this."

This, turns out to be a large corkboard panel fixed to the back wall of the room, upon which are tacked numerous things. The largest thing is a year planner, months arranged in a list down the page, with the days marching off horizontally. Every third, roughly, day, is marked with a set of capital letters, the first is always in black, the second, and in some cases third, is red. Nearer the bottom of the page some of the days have numbers beside the letters. "She's marking who's in which room when." Petra announces as November and me take a look. "Yes she is." Nodding, tapping my finger against the seven day run of I. "But," I look down, towards the final months, "is she marking this ahead of time, and if so how far ahead?"
"No way of knowing without knowing the date." Petra shakes her head. "Why does it matter though?" November asks. "Well," hunkering down to stare at December, still unmarked, "if it were being done before it happened, then it would at least show us there's some kind of plan going on." I stand back up again. "Michelle's either deciding who goes into the tie up rooms at random, on the day, or she's working to a plan."
"And if it's a plan then what plan is it." Petra nods, then frowns. "We need to know more huh?"
"We do." Nodding. "And neither of you knows computers I'm guessing?" Both girls shake their heads. "Right." I think. "One of my keys is for the basement."
"For the shower room?"
"It's never locked." I shake my head. "I'm willing to bet there's another area down there, one of the ground floor locked doors leading to a stairwell or something."
"You think Michelle's hiding important stuff in a secret basement?" Petra nods, as does November. "Maybe."
"I think it's our next stop." I try to figure out how much time we've been gone. "So let's go check all the doors." I gesture to the wine bottle, now empty, that November's holding. "We can dump that, and the chocolates, in the kitchen on the way."

Collecting my keys from desk two, sure for a moment I left them on desk four, I usher Petra and November out of the room, finding Sierra loitering out in the corridor already. And, with the door locked, we head downstairs to search for the hidden basement.

"Finally." Petra tuts, as the tenth locked door clicks open, the other nine having remained locked when I inserted the basement key. Swinging the door wide reveals a set of stairs going down into darkness. Clicking on the lights, handily there's a switch just inside the door, reveals a dog leg left turn ten steps down, with more steps beyond. "Come on then." I set off, the others following, finding another ten steps beyond the corner, with a door at the bottom. The basement key doesn't work on this second door, however the mansion master key does, revealing a fair sized room mostly empty save for several piles of boxes, and, more importantly, a filing cabinet. "Jackpot." I grin, flicking on the rooms light. "Let's hope so." November nods, coming into the room behind Petra, with Sierra bringing up the rear.

Another of my keys opens the cabinet, inside of which we find a file for each of us, labeled Bravo to Tango. November and Petra reach in, grabbing a small handful each. I do the same, and together, sat on the floor, we sort through them.

It quickly becomes clear though that there isn't much to learn from the files. Each one contains the signed form, which itself is a large part of why each folder seems so thick. Also included are between one and a half dozen pages of written notes. I recognise Michelle's flowing script. The notes appear to be, amongst other things, a list of items, which, by the time I get onto my third folder, I've realised is most likely things from each girls house, things possibly stored in all these boxes. One thing that isn't mentioned though is any kind of hint at each girls skill set. There's no reference to what any of us did in our pre Church life. "Which means," I comment, closing my forth folder and picking up the last from my pile, labeled 'Tango' on the front, "I've no clue how we're going to get into that computer system."
"Hey." Sierra, who I'd completely forgotten about what with everything else on my mind, calls out from somewhere behind me. "Hey, girls, look." She giggles. "I'm a helpless gamer girl."

We can't help but laugh, when we turn around, and see what she's done. Clearly at some point whilst we three were investigating the unnumbered room Sierra went and helped herself to some rope from one of the wardrobes, which would account for my moving keys. Somehow, she's used this rope to tie herself into a pretty convincing looking hogtie. A chest harness, though one which doesn't pin her arms, is squeezing her small breasts. The hogtie itself, rope around her wrists, and an ankle rope that links to it, isn't pulled as tightly as the hogties we put on each other, but it still looks like a tie Sierra won't simply be able to slip free from. She's rolling around on the floor, wearing Michelle's headset, giggling.

"Honestly." I shake my head. "Aren't you supposed to be helping?"
"Oh." Sierra giggles again. "Oops. Hold on," struggling around, clearly actually trying to free herself, not getting very far. "Might have to help you girls next time." She rolls onto her side, smiling. "Do you, um," November gestures, "do you want some help?"
"Nope." Shaking her head. "I'm good. Just." Another bout of quite intense struggling, which lasts about a minute. The three of us wait. "I'm just building up to it slowly." Sierra nods, after, no closer to freedom then before the struggle. "Right." November nods, shaking her head, whilst beside her Petra casts a smile my way, obviously as amused as me. "Anyway," Sierra comments, taking my attention, again, away from Tango's file, "you didn't want my help with the computers upstairs. So." A shrug. "I thought I'd have some fun instead." Nodding, point apparently made, she begins struggling again.

Petra and November return to the files each has hold of, but I can only stare at Sierra, my mouth open. "Hold on." She stops struggling, laid on her side, little bee sting breasts pointing at me. "You know how those computers work?"
"Kind of." Sierra nods. "Didn't look much different to the setup I used to have at home," shaking her head, "before my parents sold it anyway."
"She knows computers?" Petra, paying attention too now, looks from her files to Sierra, even November has stopped. "But, why didn't you say?"
"Oh. Sorry girls." Sierra giggles. "I kinda get distracted easily. And. Well," she wriggles her hogtied body, "all that rope next door, and the keys right there." She looks at the floor. "Sorry."
"Don't be." Shaking my head. Smiling. "Can you help us though? Get into the system, see what's going on?"
"Sure." Nodding. "Childs play."
"Were you a programmer then?" November asks, standing, taking Petra's files and replacing both piles in the cabinet. "Hacker mostly." Sierra grins. "You want me to do this now?"
"No." I think. "We've been too long here, and everyone needs at least some sleep." I stand too. "Tomorrow. Maybe." I look around at them as November unties Sierra, who pouts, but doesn't protest. Crazy girl. "Next time we get the chance anyway." Looking down at the two of them. "If you're both still up for this anyway?"
"Please." Sierra, untied now, almost bouncing from foot to foot. "Haven't done any hacking in sooooo long."
"Sure." November nods too. "I'm in," she smiles at her excitable bed mate, "got to see how it all plays out right?"
"Right." I nod.

"Hey." Petra gives me a gentle, playful, nudge, coming up beside me as the other two head up the stairs. "Don't forget to tidy up." Reaching down, giving the file in my hand a tug. "Shit." I'd forgotten I had it. "Right." Petra waits as I return to the cabinet. I glance at the file, still open on one of the pages, and am about to close it, but then stop. "No. Fucking. Way."
"What?" Petra, coming over quickly, mistaking my disbelief for worry. "What?" She asks again, looking from the file to me. I laugh, making her frown. "It's Tango's last name." I tell her, closing the file, replacing it in the cabinet, which I lock. Turning, I give Petra a kiss, then, taking her hand, lead her from the room, making sure to lock up as I go.

"What about her last name?" Petra asks as we ascend the stairs. "Is it good news?"
"Yes." Grinning. "I think I've just found us a way out of this."

[sian26uk]

.

[Nainur]

superb suspension! Thrilling stuff!

[Wolfling]

Very interesting story! Keep it up!

[Risperdaltied]

@Risperdaltied maybe I should just message you whenever I begin a new story

Thanks all for the continued support.

That would be good - mind you, the rate you write stories that would every day!

[Risperdaltied]

Loving this..!

[TightsBound]

I just finally read this. Amazing story! Very well written with great character work and a compelling cult storyline, and hot of course hot at times Thank you for writing, I can’t wait to see what comes next!

[RopeBunny]

@Risperdaltied maybe I should just message you whenever I begin a new story

Thanks all for the continued support.

That would be good - mind you, the rate you write stories that would every day!

What can I say? I just love (writing about ) TUGs

Thanks all for the continued support/comments.

[Risperdaltied]

@Risperdaltied maybe I should just message you whenever I begin a new story

Thanks all for the continued support.

That would be good - mind you, the rate you write stories that would every day!

What can I say? I just love (writing about ) TUGs

Thanks all for the continued support/comments.

And I love reading them!!!

Feel free to DM me re: any new stories!!!!

[RopeBunny]

011.
Denise.

We, mostly Sierra but all of us might as well be there, need to get onto Michelle's computer, to discover- finally -what her Church is all about. And, because of what I discovered in Tango's file, I have a phone call to make.

It's just a matter of which one the opportunity to do arises first. I can't make a phone call without a phone, which I'm willing to bet is in Michelle's apartment somewhere, so I can't do that until she leaves again, which could take days. The computer however, can be done at night, any night. So why not the very next evening, after we're all chained up.

"Will she know?" I ask, the three of us clustered around a seated Sierra, pushed up against desk one. "Depends on the system." The blue haired girl shrugs. "Will it log my being here? Yes. But," holding up a finger, "I can cover my tracks."
"So she won't know?"
"If this setup is slaved to, say," shrugging, "a laptop. Maybe up in her rooms. Then she'll know as soon as I boot this thing up." Sierra shakes her head. "I can't reach into her system before it logs us, only after."
"So if she does have a," I reach for the unfamiliar terms, "slaved?"
"Slaved." Nodding, Sierra smiles at the word. "If she is logged in, now." I continue. "Then we're fucked."
"Pretty much." Turning to look over her shoulder at me. "Your play boss?" I look at the other two. November, shrugging, whilst Petra offers me a smile, and a small nod. I smile back. "Fuck it," nodding, patting Sierra on the shoulder, "go for it. Just," another pat, "do your best. Please."
"Right." Grinning, stretching her arms wide. "Dive dive dive."

It doesn't take Sierra long to lay everything out on the six screens.

"We're on a," I peer closer, somewhere between amused and confused, "website?"
"Told you." Petra, nodding, tapping one of the screens. "Porn."

The Church of Silence. That's the sites name. A very basic looking thing, no flashy graphics, no real order. Just a main page with some text, below which is an image of, predictably, Petra, naked and hogtied, and below that some links to move around the site. It appears you can't join, you instead pay per video, of which there's quite a library. Sierra manages to work her magic, delving into the systems hard drive, pulling up the library so we can watch one: a ten minute clip of Charlie, her plump naked body trussed into a strict hogtie as she struggles and rolls around on the floor of, given the colour of the mats she's laid on, room four. "Edited then." Petra comments, the rest of us nodding agreement. "And," I point, to a different link on the site, "it appears she's selling whole sessions too."

The link, once clicked, leads to a request page. For a three figure fee you can request a short custom clip. For four figures, and up, you can organise to sit in, watching live for anywhere from an hour to a day as the Silent God puts your choice of girl, or girls if you're rich enough, through whatever tie ups and toys you desire.There are even handy thumbnails of us all, from Bravo to Tango, including our measurements, to help with the decisions. Looking at the list of options, and timings, all with attached prices, it'd be fairly easy to spend a five figure sum here.

"But then why are we chained up every night?" November wonders aloud. "None of this video God stuff explains that?"
"And," Petra, looking thoughtful too, "why are we naked? And doing other work?"
"This is all just the website." Sierra, tapping more keys, before turning to face us. "There aren't any other files on the system."
"Nothing else?" I ask, Sierra shrugs, turning back around, her fingers flying over the keys again. "Well." Pointing. "There's banking stuff."

"Fuck me." November, staring at the line of figures, whilst beside her I nod. Michelle appears to be doing quite well for herself, with transfers- mostly small but given the sheer number of them it clearly all adds up -coming in from all over. "Can we hack these?" I ask Sierra. "Can we go backwards?"
"Sure," nodding, "why though?"
"I want to see the patterns."
"Want to flex those old skills?" Petra, semi teasing, but an impressed smile on her face. "Old skills?" November asks, even whilst Sierra gets to work, calling up file after file of old statements. "Den...." I hear Petra begin, behind me now I've stepped forwards, hunkering down beside Sierra with one arm around the back of the chair, to better direct her where to scroll and what to show me. "India, used to work with money, and stocks."
"Yeah?" I smile, hearing the impressed yet slightly disbelieving tone. "Trust me," Petra's belief in me making my insides feel all warm, "India knows what she's doing here."

Looking over Michelle's financial records, reading the details behind and between the transactions, her life, her backstory, begins to take shape. Up until close to a year ago she had almost nothing, her statements mirror copies of mine: minimum wage going in once a month, then a steady procession of modest outgoings, cash withdrawls mostly, plus what looks like, given the names and codes attached to each, rent and utilities. And then, out of nowhere, a hundred grand transfer in, from some solicitors. "Pull up her emails." Which of course Sierra does, with no more effort then it would take you or I to turn on a calculator. "There." I point. Sierra scrolls the mouse over, opening the solicitors mail thread. "Money," I speed read through the messages, skipping over whole paragraphs, my eyes alert for certain keywords, "and this mansion." Nodding. "That's quite a step up from stacking shelves in Tesco."
"Didn't take her long to spend it though." Having both already glanced at what comes next, Sierra, shaking her head, minimises the emails, bringing the statements back up. "Damn." I shake my head too, seeing line following line of withdrawals. "She blew through it." Within two months less then one fifth remains. Following which is a month of nothing. "Panicked." I tap the screen. "Can't live forever on a hundred K."
"Would be nice though." Sierra muses. "No more work."
"Well," I look around, noticing both Petra and November over by the corkboard wall, talking, "isn't that kinda what this is?"
"I guess," nodding, thinking it through, "we're working."
"But she's not." I finish for her, shrugging. "Keep going then," waving a hand, "next one."

The next statement shows two large, final- given that between them they account for almost all the remaining money -outgoings. The larger amount to a tech company, and a smaller, but still four figure, payment, to a person. "For the setup, and whoever wrote all this up for her?" I muse, tapping the notebook, laying open on the desk. Sierra has been occasionally referring to it, for access codes I'd imagine. "My guess too." Nodding. "This guide is super detailed, a real dummies how to."
"For the system?"
"And video editing," Sierra flicks through pages, smiling, "even simple shit like emails are in here." She turns her chair to face me, the action putting me, almost, in her lap given my close proximity, making my skin tingle, and hers if the brief shiver I see is any indication. Looking over my shoulder, feeling suddenly guilty, I see Petra still stood across the room with November, the two of them talking with their backs to us. "So," I swallow, but make no attempt to pull away, despite mine and Sierra's breasts brushing against each other, "is there anything else here?"
"Like what?" She too seems to be caught in the moment, unwilling to break contact. "How about we go back into the emails," putting one hand on her leg, slightly too high up prehaps but unable to resist, turning her back around to face the desk, "that Church site had a messaging facility. Can you find them too?"
"Sure." I haven't removed my hand, and Sierra doesn't ask me too. She swallows though, spreading her legs open. An invitation? But, mindful of Petra, at least a part of me thinking straight and not getting swept along in the moment, I keep my hand where it is as Sierra begins typing.

"Find anything?" Petra asks, coming up behind me, giving me a hug whilst remaining standing. I stand too, turning to face both her and November, who's wandered back over too. "Plenty." I think. "Let's grab a quick glass of water each, in the kitchen, and I'll sum it all up."
"Sounds good." November nods, as does Petra. "Shut it down then," I pat Sierra's shoulder, "cover our tracks and stuff. You still can right?"
"I still can." Nodding, fingers a blur as she closes each screen in turn.

"So," facing the three of them, "the Church is a website. Her website. Which makes her enough cash, just about, to live in this fancy mansion, which she owns, and we maintain for her."
"Clever girl." Petra nods. "Indeed." I nod too. "That contract, that we've all signed, basically puts us all in her employ."
"Alongside agreeing to abide by the rules," November asks, "right?"
"Right." I shrug, not being a lawyer I only understood some of what the incredibly long winded document said when I flicked through it last night. "Basically, whatever she says goes."
"So we're screwed then?" Sierra, looking glum. "This magic bit of paper traps us all here as her naked slaves."
"Maybe." I smile. "Maybe not."
"Go on," Petra has caught my expression, "spill."
"Not yet." Shaking my head. "Let me make a phonecall. Then we'll see."
"So there's hope?" November asks. I shrug, but nod. "Always hope. Just give me time."
"What else have we got but time." Petra, clearly thinking about jail, muses. I step across the space, and give her a hug, before we all wash up our glasses, and head back to bed.

The following day, as if by magic, Michelle leaves.

I'm on planting detail, alongside Petra and November, finally nearing the end of this one mammoth task.

Heading back outside, using the front door, we discover Michelle's van already gone. As the other girls continue walking, heading out into the estate, spades in hand, four of them pushing a sapling laden trolley between them, Petra stops me with a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look at her, and she points back into the house, then mimes making a phone call- punching out the digits, putting the receiver to her ear. Seeing the logic, though wary of being missed by the others, I nod. Michelle might not leave for two weeks after this, so the chance needs to be taken. The risk is worth the payoff. We share a brief hug, and I head back inside.

"Come with me." Striding into the kitchen, dropping my gag onto a counter top, Sierra visibly jumps, dropping the long wooden spoon she was holding into the large pan. "Here." I walk up behind her. "Hold on." Unlocking her gag I toss it beside mine. "What are you doing?" Sierra, turning to face me, shaking her head. "If we get seen like this...."
"We won't." Shaking my head, trying to ignore the risks of being openly ungagged when there are two girls cleaning, somewhere. "And, besides," feeling slightly guilty, but needing her help, baiting my hook with a tease I know Sierra won't be able to resist, "if we are caught." I step in close, pressing my body into hers, squashing her A cups with my larger breasts, and using my two hands to pin hers behind her, wrists crossed together pressed into her butt. "Then the only punishment that exists here is being tied up."
"Will we really be tied up?" I can hear Sierra's breath quickening, her love of bondage, proven the other night when she tied herself up for no other reason then just because. "Together?"
"Maybe." Tugging on her wrists, pulling her, if it were possible, even closer to me, I place my lips against hers, so that as I talk she can feel them move. "She might tie us like this," I flick my tongue over Sierra's lips, making her gasp, "squashed together." I wink. "Abandoned."
"She'd do that?" Barely above a whisper, fuck me but Sierra's a kinky girl, clearly into it. At this point I think she actually wants us to be caught. I smile, and step back, releasing her. "She would, probably. But." Holding up a finger. "Let's try not to get caught. Please."
"But," pouting, "it sounds like so much fun."
"Well," smiling, "maybe after, once we're all free, we can try it out."
"Really?"
"Sure." Shrugging, wondering where Petra fits into all this, what is basically just talk anyway. "We'll see okay?"
"Okay." Nodding, grinning. "What are we doing then boss?"
"I've got to make a phonecall. Which means we need a phone." I point upstairs. "I'm willing to bet Michelle has one, and I need you to keep a lookout for me, and to help me find it."
"Sure." Nodding, following me out of the kitchen, and towards Michelle's private rooms.

"Here." Placing a slim black mobile phone in my hand. "Found it."
"Excellant." I nod, seeing the screen already lit up. "It wasn't locked?"
"Nope."
"Oh."
"Not everyone does." She shrugs, walking over to a window, one with a view of the road through the grounds. "Go make your call then," waving me off, "if I see that van, I'll come let you know."
"Right." Nodding. "Good." I walk through into another room, to get some privacy.

"Natasha?" He answers on the second ring, sounding tired, lucky for me he still has the same number. Winston Burns. An old man, or at least older then me anyway as he sails through the latter half of his fifties. As close to a nemesis as I've ever had, even above Petra back in her school bully days. All she ever did was tie me up to a lamppost, what this white haired man did to me was far worse.

Winston wasn't even above me on the food chain at the firm I joined, he was my senior only in terms of years served. He was old school, which meant, in his eyes, this industry was no place for a woman. No doubt my being both pretty, and forever sporting crazily coloured hair, didn't help. I was only with the firm for two years, but for both I was their top employee, which only infuriated Winston more. So, when he, somehow, discovered my drug abuse, instead of doing the decent thing, helping, reaching out to me and offering support. Even going calmly to the management so they could help would've been something. But no, instead Winston sank me, reporting everything I'd done to the regulators, and the press. In the end I was lucky I only got fired and lost my traders license, I could very easily of wound up in the cell next to Petra.

Now, hearing his voice, memory flooding back in, I can't help but smile.

"Not Natasha." I shake my head, even though he can't see me. "Try again." There's a pause, I wait. And then. "You."
"Me." I grin. "Hello old man."
"What do you want?"
"How about I want a deal."
"No. No deal," I can almost hear him shaking his head in outrage, "not with you. Not ever."
"Not even for little Tasha?"
"What?"
"I know where your daughter is."
"You." Winston splutters, I wait. "How could you possibly...."
"Winston." I shut him down. "Old man. Do you want your daughter back?"
"Yes." He sounds defeated, I smile. "Good, now listen."

"No." Huffing. "I. I can't. It won't. How do you expect me to even...?"
"Because," I shrug, "you've been in the game long enough to make the right friends."
"But." Pen tapping on paper, I picture him looking again at my list of demands. "I. That is...."
"I know you can do this." I tell him calmly. "Make it happen Winston."
"Yes." Sounding beaten, which warms me to hear. "And you promise my little angel's okay?"
"She's fine," just about managing not to laugh as I picture his little angel, Tasha, complete with mouth filling locked in place gag, naked and covered in dirt smears yesterday evening as I saw her walking to her room, "just." I breathe. "Do your part, Winston. And I'll do mine."

I give the phone to Sierra, who replaces it back where she found it. Then we run the gauntlet back to the kitchen, luckily not running into either of the Sisters on cleaning duty. Regagged, Sierra gets back to cooking, and I return to the trees, slipping my leggings and top back on at the front door, where I left them next to my spade.

I give Petra's questioning look a thumbs up, to which she nods. And, later, with no gags or chains, all four of us sit on mine and Petra's bed, one to a side, and I tell the others my plan.

"Fuck." Breathes November. "Will it work, really work?" Sierra is wide eyed, her brain still processing everything. "It'll work." I nod. "So long as we all play our parts."
"Well," Petra, taking my hand, giving it a kiss, "I'm in. You should know I am." She smiles. "Whatever the risk."
"I'll get us through this." Leaning across to kiss her, briefly, before turning to face Sierra. "This plan relies on you," I tell the blue haird hacker, "can you do this?"
"Yes." A serious look on her face, all business. Then she smiles. "Fucks sake India, of course we're all in." She giggles. "It's going to be so much fun."
"She's right," November nods, "we're all in."
"Well then," I look to each in turn. "Tomorrow then." I think, trying to remember something, anything. And then, a quote from an old movie comes to me, one of Dad's favourites. I smile. "May fortune favour the foolish."

[Nainur]

Whohohooooo! What a story!

[RopeBunny]

012.
Denise.

Awake, into the shower almost on autopilot, washed, hair brushed. The first time in days I haven't had to tie it back, no need to hide my stolen keys anymore. Off to view the days list. November, required by the Silent God to attend room one, alongside Tango- just as the year planner, once we'd discovered the correct date, told us she would be -gives me a nod as she leaves. Myself and Sierra are on planting duty, possibly the final day with less then two dozen saplings remaining, whatever happens today. Petra's pulled cleaning duty.

I wait until we're alone before unlocking all three gags. "Goodbye Vicki." Sierra waves as we leave the room, our metal and leather gags abandoned on the floor beside the board. "You named your gag?" Petra, staring at Sierra whilst I shake my head. "Yes." Giving Petra a strange look. "You mean you didn't?"
"Well...."
"Why Vicki?" I ask, rescuing Petra. "First girlfriend." Sierra smiles, then winks. "She had this huge strap on, used to...."
"And," clamping my hand over her mouth, "now I regret asking." Behind my hand Sierra giggles. Petra and me smile as we turn a corner, the stairs up to the five rooms now visible ahead.

I almost feel bad for Michelle as the three of us walk into the control room, catching her sat in the chair and facing the room one desk, naked save for a silk bathrobe, legs spread wide and one hand very obviously stroking her pussy. Almost, but I don't.

"What's go..." removing her hand, the ghosted echo of a guilty look- prehaps a holdover from being caught in just such a position when younger -crossing her face as she turns, replaced by a wide eyed disbelief. "Sisters? Aren't you supposed to b...." and then, as we advance into the room, myself at least grinning, I can see the moment she realises we aren't gagged, and disbelief is replaced by anger. "Sisters." Near shouted, which makes Sierra flinch. "Where are your gags?"
"No more gags." Shaking my head, having, along with Petra, kept up my pace, we reach Michelle just as she's rising off the chair. "What are you...?" Looking at each of us, then back, still trying to stand, but Petra's just too strong, and too tall. Using her height, and muscle, she pins Michelle in place, arms pressed against the chairs arms, allowing me, with the rope we already took from the empty room three, to make sure she stays put.

I tie each arm separately to the chairs arms, wrapping and crisscrossing it up her forearms from wrist to elbow. "Cut the feed." I nod. Sierra steps up to desk one. "Don't you touch a thmmmmhhpppf." Michelle manages to halfway say, her voice still full of anger, before I cram the largest ballgag we could find in her mouth, leaning in close to reach around and buckle it tightly behind, enjoying the additional muffled curses being spat at me as I yank the strap. "Legs." I toss Petra my rope. "On it." Smiling at me. "Mmmffp mmm ffpphhmmmm mmffp mmfp."
"You just sit tight," I give Michelle's cheek a gentle pat as Petra gets to work, "they'll be time to talk soon." I wink. "Sister."
"Fffppmmm mmmff pppffmmf." But I'm ignoring her now, my attention instead on desk one, watching as one by one the six screens wink out, the images, of November mid way through strapping Tango to a double bed, using rope to stretch her out like a star, vanishing as Sierra cuts the feed. "Good work," nodding, "room four now."
"On it." Grinning, giving Michelle's breast a cheeky squeeze as she crosses the room, Sierra gets to work booting up the desk and cameras for room four. "All done." Petra announces, which is followed by. "Mmf ffppm ffmf ppfmmf mfm."
"Wow." Turning around to see. "I guess we learnt something from the Silent God huh."
"Ffppmm mmfpfm."
"Indeed." I nod, watching with some amusement as Michelle continues to fight, despite how well she's been trussed in place. Added to my arm ropes, her ankles are tied to the back of the chair, where the arms meet the frame. Not only does this force her legs wide open, it also bends them at the knee, keeping them raised high up off the floor. Petra has added chest ropes too, wrapping above and below Michelle's just about still covered breasts, pinning her body to the chairs back. "Get her into position," giving Petra a kiss, "let them see her."
"Mmmhf."
"Don't you worry," giving Michelle's cheek a kiss as I slip the credit card shaped front gates access card from around her neck, before Petra wheels her out of the room, "we'll talk soon." I call after her.

'Assemble your team, wait at the gates.'

Unlocking November's gag, I hand over the card, and a key. "For Michelle's rooms."
"Because...?"
"You'll need a coat right?"
"Right." Nodding, last night I'd outlined, but not gone over every single detail of, my plan. Since any good plan needs to be fluid, so therefore I reasoned, there's just no point in giving my three co conspirators a blow by blow of what could, at any moment, need to be changed on the fly. November nods again. "You need anything from up there," putting fingers to her ear, "the phone?"
"No," shaking my head, "leave the key in the door, grab a coat from the cupboard and head straight for the front gates. Let our friends in."
"And bring them here?" Pointing at the floor. "The control room." Grinning, imagining Winston's reaction were I to deliver him his precious angel in her current state. I shake my head. Her being naked will be a hard enough pill for him to swallow as it is. November tips me a salute, halfway between joking and serious, before setting off at a jog.

"And you," looking down at the bed, smiling, before sitting myself down beside her, "Natasha Burns." At the mention of her full name Tango's head jerks around to look at me. "Mmfp fffpm."
"Yes." Nodding. Reaching out to stroke one of her large and erect nipple topped breasts.
"Mmmmmmfffpffmmm."
"Not enjoying our time at Church?" I grin, looking over her stretched out skinny body, seeing the wand vibrator already strapped in place to one upper leg, the bulbous end pressed tightly against her pussy. "Mmffppf hhffpmmm mmm." I can hear it's low hum. "Well then." Rising, coming around the bed to take hold of the rope already tied around her final wrist, the only one of her four limbs not yet tied off. I give it a yank. "You won't remember me," I explain, seeing her watching me as I wrap and tie the rope tightly around the bedpost, finishing the job of immobilising her, "I worked with your father. But," a shrug, "he didn't like me." I sit back down, and begin teasing Tango's other breast, smiling as I see her arch her body up off the bed towards me, noticing her recently bound wrist twitch. "He's on his way here now," twisting her nipple between my fingers, "to take you home."
"Mmmffppf mmmmm ffpffmm ff." I pause, looking at Tango as she returns my gaze. I'd been teasing, when really I should be untying Winston's daughter. Making nice, cuddles not forced orgasms. All that. But, at the mention of home, I'm sure I saw. "Did you just shake your head?"
"Mmffp."
"You don't want to be rescued?"
"Ffppmf." A definite shake of the head. "Fuck me." I laugh, the whole thing is just nuts, teenage rebellion taken to extreme levels. "Hold on." Walking across the room to unplug the vibrator. "Mmmmfffffpphhfff."
"Yes yes." Waving her outrage away as Tango slumps back down agaisnt the bed. "So close to an orgasm I'm sure. However." Picking my keys up from the floor, where I'd dumped them beside November's gag. "We need to have a small talk."

"I want to stay." Is, literally, the first thing Tasha says to me, even before her gag is all the way off. "Well."
"Please." Looking up at me, still stretched across the bed, her young perfect body, so full of all the right curves, completely on display. "I like it here."
"No." Shaking my head. "Nobody wants to be gagged forever."
"I do." Said quietly, which brings all my arguments, my intention to force her onto Winston if that's what it took, up short. "Okay." Making a command decision. "Tasha, can we talk like grown ups for a moment?"
"Sure."
"Right. Well." With an effort I look her in the eye, managing to, just about, ignore her pert breasts, and her pussy, managing to keep my own hands in my lap and not on her upper leg. "I'm trying to make a deal with your Dad."
"What kind of deal?"
"I." Realising I'm drumming my fingers on her leg, seeing her smile. I remove them back to my lap. "It's complicated."
"Does Michelle know you're doing this?"
"Does it matter?" Spotting, late but I do see, the blush when Tasha speaks the name. Well well. "She's tied up next door." Enjoying seeing Tasha's eyes go wide. I grin. "Want to come see?"

"Girls." Petra and Sierra, both stood and knelt respectively around the desk, look up. "This is Tasha." Both give Tasha a nod, and a smile, but she, Tasha, only has eyes for the monitors on the wall. Five of the six are currently showing various angles of Michelle, still tightly bound in the chair, now with her black and green bathrobe pulled open, plus there are clamps on her nipples, and a wand vibrator strapped to her upper right leg, the hum from which, alongside Michelle's moans as she climbs helplessly towards an orgasm, we can just about hear through the open doorways. The sixth screen is all numbers and code, Sierra's doing. Partly for fun, partly for revenge, and partly because why not, I got her to hack the website. Now, anyone who happens to click through the age warning banner will be greeted by a live feed of Michelle trussed up and cumming. Apparently there are close to five hundred people watching her right now.

"Did you do this?" Tasha can't seem to stop staring. "Yes." I smile. "Thought she needed to see what it was like being the one in room four, for a change."
"She's your prisoner?"
"No." Though the thought does make me smile, and then, remembering, I add. "Would you like her to be yours?"
"I." Definitely blushing, she really does have it bad. I wonder whether Michelle knows she's the reason Tasha signed up? But Tasha shakes her head. "No. I." She shrugs, nods, then shakes her head. "I."
"Not an easy question then?"
"I just," mumbled, "she's just so hot."
"Quite." I grin, taking her arm, turning her, forcing Tasha to look at me. "Listen now." Pleased to see the young girl focusing on me. "Your Dad will be here soon. So. Important decision time. Do you want to stay here?"
"What?" Petra half shouts. I hold out a hand, warding her off, talking to Tasha. "Do you?"
"Yes." Whispered, a small nod. "Please don't hand me over."
"I won't." Turning to face Petra briefly, seeing her give me an open mouthed arms spread 'what the fuck' gesture. "It's okay." I tell her. "Plans can be fluid."
"But." Gesturing at Tasha. "You said rescuing her was our ticket."
"I did, and it is." I look back at Tasha. "If I promise, will you promise to help me?"
"How?"
"Agree," I smile, "that's all. Just. When Winston shows up, agree to go."
"But I don't want to...."
"You don't have to." Shaking my head. "But he won't give me what's mine until he has you. And, without these things I can't help any of us." I smile, and throw out some bait. "I'm even trying to help Michelle here."
"You are?"
"You are?" Petra, unaware of this part of my plan, sounds surprised. "Yes." I nod, and look Tasha in the eyes, just as we all hear, approaching, the sound of multiple footsteps, and an old man, grumbling. "Will you play your part?" I ask, as Sierra flicks the monitors off one by one. Tasha nods, giving me a small smile. "I will."

And then Winston, plus several other men, followed by November, appear in the doorway.

'You're going to see lots of weird shit, keep it together old man.'

"Burnie." I grin, watching my old nemesis bluster as he looks around, taking in our- his daughter included -nakedness. He hasn't changed since I last saw him, and is, predictably, wearing an immaculate suit paired with shiny black shoes and a perfectly knotted tie. "She's naked." Winston gestures at Tasha, glaring at me. "Yes." Nodding, calm, seeing my amusement mirrored on all the other girls faces, even Tasha. We're all so used to day in day out nakedness, so used to seeing nothing but naked girl flesh everywhere we go, none of us is even a tiny bit embarrassed at the sudden arrival of a half dozen fully dressed men. "Winston." Almost snapped out, bringing his attention, his focus, back to me. "Do you have what I asked for?"
"But." His gaze unable to not wander around the room, I can see he's having trouble with our lack of clothing, though, funnily, his standoffish nature means he's yet to even think to offer his daughter his suit jacket. Probably worried she'll put creases in it, I think, smirking. "We talked about this," I fix him with a look, "now. Keep it together old man."
"But."
"No." Shutting him down. "Play your part, Burnie." Smiling as he bristles at my repeated use of the nickname he only tolerates from the other old boys, not some upstart young girl. "Now," looking at the other assembled men, "which one of you is the lawyer?"
"That would be me, Miss." Younger then Winston, with an equally smart suit draped over a frame far leaner then Winston's, dark messy hair and a trimmed beard as he smiles at me, stepping forwards. In another life maybe, I muse, one without Petra and the promise of her full breasted body in my bed when this is over. Maybe. I smile back. "Do you have what I told the old man to bring?"
"I do." Nodding, patting his briefcase. "Good." I gesture, walking towards the door. "Follow me."

'It just has to look legal enough to threaten, not to stand up in court, I'll do the rest.'

It appears we've, the lawyer and I, walked in on Michelle at the tail end of a wand induced orgasm. As we enter the room her whole body is shaking, straining against the tightly wrapped ropes, and, eyes closed, her quickened breathing is strung through with loud moans. "Give me the papers," I click my fingers, bringing the lawyer out of his wide eyed trance. Can't really blame him that, Michelle's near naked exposed body is quite the sight, large inflated breasts, topped by those clamps, rising up and down, shaking. Her flat toned stomach and below it her shaved pussy, now red and tender from repeated orgasms. "The papers." Stepping in front, blocking the view and forcing him to focus. "Right." Voice shaky, he hands them over. "Good, now back me up as you were instructed." I tell Winston's pet lawyer, because I knew he'd have one, some firm he's friendly with in an old boy network kind of way, his sort always knows just the right people.

"Know what this is?" Holding the thick sheaf of papers, contained and secured in two files, out to Michelle. "This means things around here are going to change."
"Bitch." Not with any vemon, I'm not even sure she's mad at us, prehaps, in a moment of fantasy or wishful thinking, Michelle even wanted the tables turned one day. I mean, think about it, she owns us all, who in her shoes wouldn't have at least one daydream about the inmates taking over the asylum? Focusing as best the vibrator, which is still pressed and humming gently against her, will allow, Michelle looks first at her gag, which I tossed onto the floor, then at me. "Where did you get the keys?"
"You left the safe open." I shrug. "Seemed rude not to take advantage."
"Ha." Closing her eyes briefly, biting her lip. "And the suit," jerking her head towards the door, where the lawyer's stood, loitering, apparently unwilling to cross the threshold, "what's he for?"
"He came with Natasha's Dad."
"Natasha?"
"Sister Tango."
"Oh." Her breathing quickens for a moment, then evens back out. "Fuck." Wriggling her body, trying no doubt to escape the vibrators touch. Failing. "So what happens now?"
"Now you let all the Sister's go."
"No."
"These," shaking the papers, "say otherwise."
"And my papers say they," a sudden grin surfacing on her face as Michelle looks up at me, "say all of you. Are mine."
"Prehaps you didn't hear me." I flick the slider control on her vibrator all the way up, an act which makes her body jerk. "Things around here are going to change."
"Fuuuuccck. Fuck fuck fuck." Closing her eyes, breath huffing in and out, Michelle bites her lip. "No." Opening them again, looking at me. "I." Gritting her teeth. "Fuck. I won't let you. I." Stopping, again, wriggling, trying to pull her pussy away from what now sounds like an angry bee attacking her sweet spot, breathing getting faster and faster. "No." Shaking her head. "Yes." I bat gently at the clamps pinched tightly on her no doubt sore nipples. One. "Yes." And then the other. "My rules now."
"No no no." Closing her eyes again. "Fuck ffffffuucmmmmfffmmmmhhhfff." As I jam the ballgag into her mouth, just as yet another orgasm comes and drags her back down into oblivion.

[Nainur]

triumph!

[antoinedt]

Fantastic story!!

Something tells me with Denise's new rules, bondage might be even more permanent and intense for some of the sisters. And that the church will be become a much more sexually liberal place, behind or in front of closed doors..

I wonder what Michelle's punishment and new role will be?

[Risperdaltied]

Love the fact the ‘lunatics’ are taking over the asylum!

Can’t tell which way this will go - great work

[sian26uk]

.

[Nainur]

OMFG!!!!! This needs to be made into a movie!!!!! Am willing to be considered for any role, even a back ground naked hogtied extra

XXX

Coooool idea!
I'll be the lawyer - better a brief appearance than none at all!

[RopeBunny]

[mention]sian26uk[/mention] no doubt we could fill the eighteen female (Sister) roles just off this site . Might audition for Michelle myself

Thanks everyone for the comments, not much further to go now, glad to see you're all still with me

[Risperdaltied]

Great as always! Love where this is going..

[RopeBunny]

013.
Denise.

There's a certain voyeuristic thrill to be had from watching Michelle orgasm. Seeing her body strain at the ropes as she fights to escape the vibrators never ending full powered onslaught on her by now very red and no doubt tender pussy. It isn't for everyone though. The young lawyer, so calm and cool before, now looks like he'd rather be anywhere else then here. As it is he's moved just outside the doorway, and I'd wager it's only by the threat of whatever consequences he'll suffer if he disobeys Winston, and by Winston I mean me, that he's still here. Pussy, I think, smirking, seeing him cringe as Michelle winds up for yet another orgasm.

Because, having finished, her breathing back to almost normal, I'd simply stood in front of her. Arms crossed, papers in one hand, legs spread slightly, a pleasant smile on my face. And, despite her repeated moanings, her struggles, her curses and then her pleas- all muffled by the gag and yet based on her tone alone I could tell when she stopped trying to order me and began instead begging for my help -I waited, letting one final orgasm consume her.

"Ready to talk now?" The vibrator is off, silent, but still strapped in place, pressed firmly against the sweet spot between Michelle's spread open legs. A threat. Her gag I've tossed back onto the floor. I smile. "Ready to listen?"
"And if I'm not?" Looking me in the eye, daring me. I kneel down, between her legs, and reach forward. Michelle tenses, but instead of switching on the vibrator I remove both nipple clamps, and then slap her right breast. Michelle screams as my open hand makes contact with her extremely tender nipple. "Should I just switch this back on?" Patting the vibrator. "I can come back tonight," clicking it onto the lowest setting, "or tomorrow."
"No." Shaking her head, breathing out, it appears I've- finally -found Michelle's limit. "Turn it off." She looks me in the eye. "Please. And I'll listen."

But instead of listening, Michelle talks.

"All of this," she looks around her, at the mansion and not just the room if I had to guess, "it's all I've ever wanted."
"Slaves you mean?"
"No." Shaking her head. "Got to maintain the house somehow. Got to keep you busy, active." She smiles, shakes her head. "Active people don't revolt."
"So then what do you mean?"
"The bondage," she means, mostly, this room after all I realise, "who wouldn't want close to two dozen girls, all yours to tie up wherever the mood took?"
"Who indeed." Hiding a smile, because she does have a point, and somehow has managed to make what must be the fantasy of so many actually real. Any day she wants, Michelle can call on any number of us she desires, in any combination. And we come, willingly, up here, allowing her Silent God to oversee what is, basically, a tie up session. All whilst Michelle sits here, watching. And based on what I found when I led my mutiny up here, she takes great pleasure in the act of watching too. "So the Church, it's all a hook?"
"Yes." Smiling. "Worked though, got you all wearing the gags." Looking up at me. "You found the website?"
"Sierra hacked the system." Nodding. "She says the site could use some sprucing up."
"Yes. Well." Not quite managing a shrug. "I did my best."
"Let me help you do better." On the spur I decide to abandon my threat, and try honesty instead. "I can help," kneeling back down, having stood and stretched as we'd talked, looking Michelle in the eye as she returns my gaze, "no more gags. Let me show you a better way."
"But." Dropping her gaze, taking a long breath, Michelle looks back up, meeting my eyes again. "What can you do though," jerking her head, "now that you've summoned the hounds on me?"
"Hounds?" Turning my head, spotting the lawyer, who flinches as our eyes meet, I laugh. "More like a well trained little puppy actually."
"Ha." Actually smiling now. "Very well," a pause, "India?"
"Denise."
"Denise." Nodding. "You have my word, no more gags. Now," Michelle smiles, "show me what you can do."

'Give me back what you stole.'

"Here." Walking up to the lawyer, pushing one of the two files at him, at his chest. He startles, backing into the wall in a hopeless attempt to dodge my sudden close proximity. "I don't need this," I let go, of the now pointless threat, whatever it'd actually been, smiling as he slaps a hand ontop of the file lest it fall to the floor, "or you." I point out of the door. "So be a good little pet and fuck off." The second file is mine, my price for reuniting Winston and Tasha. When he reported me, along with my job I was stripped of all the required permissions to trade on the stock market. It was this loss which hit me hardest of all, which caused me to tumble and fall far lower then was safe, all the way down into the clutches of the drug gangs. But, I'm now holding a fresh, new, clean and stamped license to trade. In my case, providing I haven't lost my touch, I now have a, literal, license to print money.

"Sit tight," I give Michelle a smile, "I'll be back."
"What?" Half coughing half laughing, looking down at her bound body. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"
"Well." I pause, in the doorway. "Kind of." With a nod, I leave, following the lawyer out of the door, hearing Michelle still laughing behind me, which makes me smile some more.

'I will deliver your daughter to you. You have my word.'

Back in the control room, and for all anyone's moved they might as well be statues. The lawyer's back, stood behind Winston, seeking the protection no doubt afforded him from being near his own kind. Namely the half dozen other suits in attendance. Sierra's still at room four's desk, sat with her butt perched atop it, legs dangling down. She's flanked by Petra and November. All three of them are casting amused glances at the men, none of whom seem able to look at any of the openly naked women for longer then a second. Tasha is occupying the middle ground, prehaps stood slightly closer to her fellow Sisters then her father, who, if I had to guess based on body language alone, hasn't even spoken with or acknowledged her yet. I find myself briefly wondering, as I approach the desk, why he even wants her back? But I don't care enough to dwell on the thought.

"Here," handing Petra- the only one of them I truly trust with this task -the required keys, "go downstairs and collect the files." I look her in the eye, trying to relay the seriousness of the task. "Burn them."
"Burn?"
"Yes. Use the metal kitchen bin, and the matches we use for when the cooker needs a little coaxing." She smiles, as do I, how many times we've all had to carefully light one of the gas hobs with a match. "Take it all out back and burn them."
"Because we need to?"
"Yes." Nodding, breathing out and prehaps only now truly relaxing when Petra gives me a kiss on the cheek, and walks from the room. Like I've said, I'm no lawyer. But I can spot a legally binding document when I see one. However she did it, whatever firm Michelle employed to write up the crazy thing, those thick papers we all signed really did give her cart blanche to do, basically, anything she wanted to or with us. And, maybe, some top court in London could've overturned it, prehaps based on a breach to basic human rights or some such thing. But my choice of approach- though my own fake papers weren't needed my taking control of Michelle, bullying her into some form of submission -did the trick anyway. And now, with everything burned to ashes, suddenly we're all free.

Turning my attention to Winston, my last problem, I smile. "Time for you to go."
"Not without my daughter." Blustering, now he steps forwards, like a duelist in the arena, coming closer to me whilst at his back the various suits stir to life, standing straighter. "Well," standing my ground, looking him in the eye, still smiling as I witness his unwillingness, due to my nakedness no doubt, to actually fully close the distance, "she's right here." I step to the side, putting my arm around Tasha. "As promised."
"Natasha." Actually clicking his fingers, as though calling a dog to heel. And now I recall some details. Winstons wife is young, like thirties young. A proper trophy who likely married the old man, and gave birth to little Tasha, before she'd turned twenty. It must be her pushing Winston, because he, quite clearly, doesn't care for her in the slightest. "Come to me."
"No."
"Natasha." As if a sterner tone, again, like with a dog, will make any difference. "Now."
"No." Shrugging my arm off. The next word is spat out, almost like a curse. "Dad." Tasha smiles then, like a victory. "Go home."
"But." Shaking his head, getting angry. "What about your Mother."
"What about her?"
"Natasha." A couple of the suits have taken a pace or two forwards, perhaps feeling like they should do, something. But, I glare at them, and they back off. "You will." Winston takes a breath, points out of the door. "Come home. Now."
"Fuck off Dad."
"Natasha." Near shouted, Winston's hand twitches at his side. He stares at her. "I won't tell you again. Come home."
"Fuck. Off."
"Natasha." Spoken like a warning, he really is going through all the various tones and ways of saying her name. "My patience for these silly games has its limits."
"I know," shaking her head, "but I'm not playing anymore." Looking Winston in the eyes. "Father."
"But." Realising he isn't going to win, short of dragging his daughter away, and, prehaps, sensing on some level that we other Sisters won't allow that, Winston deflates, all his anger abruptly gone. "What about your Mother?"
"Tell her," Tasha smiles, "tell her I'm free." And, with a nod to her father, she walks from the room.

Winston, seemingly frozen to the spot, doesn't even turn to follow his daughters departure. His eyes, his whole posture, is locked facing forwards, facing me. I am not afraid. But, seeing his lips move, the silent words tumbling out, I brace myself for the next outburst, sure to be directed at me. Instead though, he shakes his head, looks at the floor and breathes out. "Will you," looking back up, his gaze not quite meeting mine, his voice so quiet, "take care of her?"
"Yes." I step forwards, putting a hand on Winstons shoulder, feeling him flinch briefly as I give it a small squeeze. "So long as she remains here, I'll see she's safe."
"Do you." A pause, he appears to be thinking as he speaks. "Are visitors...."
"Natasha's Mother?" I guess. He nods. "Can she...?"
"Yes." Why not I think, enough other things will change here, why not this too. "Good." Nodding. "Good." Winstons gaze drops, for prehaps the first time, down to my chest. He points. "Do you think though, Denise." I smile at his careful use of my name, he smiles back, a small smile, but it's a start. "Do you think though, that, when she does visit, that you could make sure Natasha has clothes on?"
"Yes," unable to stop the smile, "I imagine we can find something that'll fit her."
"Good." Stepping back, Winston holds out his hand, which after a surprised pause I take. "Best of luck to you, out on the trading floor." He nods. "Thank you Winston." I shake his hand, the small half truth, prehaps whole truth if he keeps this up, coming easily. "You're a good man."

[Nainur]

well, that might do... next one last chapter ?
what a ride!

[Dpsiic]

I love this story XXX