October 31st 1952
The Finch Finishing Academy rose out of the woods, a stone iceberg in a sea of trees. Cold wind circled the building like an animal. The sole acknowledgement that the Headmistress gave to the fact that it was Halloween was a lone scarecrow standing guard at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door and two plastic jack o’lantern ornaments lighting the stairs.
The building had once been home to a classified war programme, and secrets had never really left. Maybe that’s why Miriam Finch didn’t put up any decorations. Because she knew that monsters were real. And tonight was his night.
***
Rope.
A bright red ball gag.
More rope, to be safe.
As Miss Walters counted the coils of rope laid out on her bed there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” she replied, not looking up.
“Good evening, Jennifer.”
Jennifer Walters looked up and smiled at her employer, Head Mistress of the Finch Finishing Academy, standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was curled up neatly at the ends, her knee length green dress smooth and pressed, her black heels highly polished. A perfect example to the girls at her school. Wealthy families sent their daughters from all over the country to the academy straight from completing school before allowing them to go to university to learn how to grab wealthy husbands.
“Good evening, Miss Finch,” said Miss Walters, gesturing at the binding materials on the bed, “I’ve gathered and cleaned the materials as you asked.”
Miriam Finch walked over to the bed, heels clacking on the floorboards. She cast her eye over the materials, mentally carrying out inventory.
“Wonderful, well done, Miss Walters.”
Miss Walters nodded her acknowledgment and readjusted her blonde hair in its ponytail. She’d come straight from lessons and was still in her teaching attire, white blouse, black skirt and heels and sheer dark stockings.
“It’s that time again,” said Miriam, picking up one of the coils of rope to check over, “October 31st, Halloween.”
“Are these for…decorations?” asked Miss Walters tentatively.
“No, though our girls will look lovely in them.”
“Err, is this a new disciplinary procedure that we’ll be implementing, Miss Finch?”
“Haha, no. Though I did consider it after the incident with Felicia’s moonshine. You’ve been here for nearly a year now so I think I owe you an explanation. Come join me in my room.”
Miriam led Miss Walters out of her bedroom and down the corridor to her own, much larger quarters. She held the door for her blonde employee and gestured for her to sit by the fire while she went to a cabinet to pour them both a slug of whiskey.
“Now, I understand this will be hard to believe but please hear me till the end,” began Miss Finch as she sat opposite Jennifer.
“Before this became a finishing school it used to be used for training young women to spy during the thirties. One of the instructors, Sergeant Jack Karsky, developed a penchant for … restraining his pupils. He found more and more excuses to tie them up for “training exercises”, “punishments” and so on. At first it was simple and for short times but it quickly escalated. More demanding positions, longer times in captivity. He started taking liberties, tying them up in their nightgowns, tickling their feet, forcing them to tie each other up. Before too long his activities began to come to the attention of other instructors. They tolerated it at first until one day he was found with an entire class of girls tied every which way in their underwear in his quarters.”
She took a pause to sip her drink.
“So far so believable,” shrugged Jennifer with a smile, “I had a teacher in my final year of school that would make the girls sit tied to chairs during detention.”
“Mmm, men. My final year of boarding school I spent a semester being tied to my bed every night because my boarding master was concerned I would sneak out. Anyway, this particular incident was a step too far and there was an altercation between Jack and another instructor. Tempers raised and Jack drew his pistol and shot the other man. Immediately it dawned on him what he’d done and he shot himself shortly after. The scandal closed the facility down and it was left largely empty until I purchased the property to expand my finishing school five years ago.”
“I’m glad I’ve not tried to sneak out while I’ve been here,” chuckled Jennifer.
“Well if the urge should seize I would be more than happy to tie you up for the night. Now, strange things began to happen. It began with finding ropes tied to beds or chairs around the place. Then we began finding drawings of tied up girls in books and on blackboards. Finally it escalated to girls being found in the morning bound and gagged to beds, desk chairs, one even to the flag pole. Every one of them claimed to have woken up like it with no memory of what happened. About one a week. I suspected that there was some hazing involved, led by a particular girl. So one night I saw her to bed and then sat with a strong coffee outside her door the entire night. When wakeup was called I went in. She was lying on the bed, hands tied behind her back, elbows tied together, ankles bound and tied to her hands. There was rope round her knees, her thighs, her chest. Even her big toes had been tied together. She was struggling furiously trying to break free and screaming into a gag. Her used stockings had been forced into her mouth and held in with a belt. I didn’t know what to make of it. Felicia’s room didn’t have a window and I’d been outside the door the whole night.”
Jennifer had been slowly leaning forward as the story drew her in.
“What happened to her?”
“Well, in the short term I replaced her stockings with the ones I was wearing, tightened all the knots and left her for a bit. Then I came back and did an hour of marking on her bed while rubbing my bare feet over her face. I suspected she’d been the architect of a lot of the trouble in the school, even if she wasn’t responsible for the spree of kidnappings. But how she got like that? Well, I won’t bore you the details of how I deduced this, but it seemed that the spirit of “Smiling” Jack Karsky was still haunting the premises and having his fun with my girls.”
“My god,” breathed Jennifer, paying rapt attention.
Miriam took another sip of drink and nodded.
“Quite. Well, I tried, unsuccessfully to remove the phantom so instead I made contact, and to my shame made a deal with the spirit. I was concerned that the problems would continue to escalate, that girls might end up in danger. Smiling Jack agreed to leave the girls alone in return, one day a year, he could have free reign of the place. My girls and me would be fair game and I’d do my best to be helpful. I’d even give him a body.”
“Oh my god, the scarecrow at the front door?”
“Indeed. Even in death, a weird sense of humour. And tonight is the night. He has until the magic of the spell causes the pumpkin to rot, around about first light. In fact, it’s nearly ten. That’s when he starts, at lights out. You should get safely to bed now Jennifer and lock your door. Beautiful young thing like you, you’d be just his type.”
“You’re only thirty, Miss Finch. So, what does he do to the girls? Does he hurt them?”
“Oh no, nothing of the sort. They never even seem to remember it. He ties them up, fondles them, spanks or tickles them. Nothing too terrible. Anyway, I’m serious. Get to bed.”
Jennifer frowned for a moment and then downed the whole of her drink.
“No. I’m sorry, Miss Finch. Either this is some elaborate prank or ghost story which I refuse to fall for, or you’re telling the truth, and I refuse to abandon you to this, Smiling Jack, whoever or whatever it is.”
“You sure, Jennifer? I wouldn’t think any less of you.”
“No, if you’re taking the risk then so must I.”
“Well,” shrugged Miriam, “if you insist. I’ll pour you another drink to steady your nerves. I think while we have a moment I’ll tie you myself so you’re prepared.”
“Grab the rope then, Miss Miss Finch.”
***
Hay rustled and twigs began to crack as life breathed into his new body and lifeless limbs began to move.
“Free…once more,” rasped Smiling Jack through the mouth of the scarecrow.
He began to flex his limbs methodically, checking them one by one. He wrenched himself forward off of the post anchoring him to the ground. Slits cut into the pumpkin that served as his head showed him his surroundings.
No rope.
It must be inside, perhaps he had manifested early. No matter, it would be there. Miss Finch wouldn’t dare break their deal. His thoughts were interrupted by a peal of laughter escaping from an upstairs window.
“Ahhh, fresh victims,” his voice whispered out.
***
“Ready, Miss Walters?” asked Miriam Finch, running a coil of rope between her hands.
“Absolutely,” nodded the younger blonde, nerves strengthened by a second and third whiskey. She crossed her wrists in front of her.
The corner of Miriam’s mouth twitched up in a smile and she shook her head.
“Turn around,” she said, twirling her finger in a small circle.
She took a deep breath but complied, turning around and crossing her wrists behind her.
Miss Finch stepped forward and began to wind the first coil of rope around her captive’s wrists. She wove it round several times then brought the rest of it between the two wrists to cinch it tight.
“Oh,” exclaimed Miss Walters involuntarily.
“I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse,” Miriam told her, grabbing the next piece and pulling her elbows towards each other and binding them in place.
“I’m a little afraid my buttons might pop like this.”
Miss Finch walked round to the young woman’s front, heels clacking with every step.
“Easily fixed,” she said, reaching out. She traced a single finger from her neck down between her breasts, slowly but expertly undoing three buttons along the way. Jennifer seemed shocked but stayed silent.
“That’ll do for now, maybe I’ll do the rest later.”
With that she grabbed more rope. This time it went above and below her recently liberated breasts, knotted tightly at the elbow, locking her arms firmly in place to her torso.
“That’s it for your arms. Now, if you’d be so kind as to lie on the bed.”
Nodding, Jennifer walked over to the double bed in the corner and sat down. She leant down so that she was on her side and then swung her legs up.
Brandishing more rope Miriam approached her.
“Let’s take these off, he prefers his victims barefoot,” she said, sitting down at Jennifer's feet and gently slipping off first one heel and then the second. She let her hand slide up the smooth silk of the stocking from her heel, up the calf to where the top was just beginning to peek out under the hem of her skirt.
“You’re very…proficient at restraining a woman,” said Miss Walters, trying and failing to move around much in her bondage.
“Well, my girls ended up in some quite tight bindings and I’m a quick study,” she replied, unhooking the garter and sliding the stocking down the length of her leg.
“I could have done that myself if you’d asked,” she swallowed as her employer began removing her second stocking.
“You wanted the experience,” smiled Miriam, leaning down to pick up more rope.
She firmly grabbed each of her victim’s feet by the heel and placed them together and then started to wrap the rope round her ankles in much the same way as her wrists. A second length went round her legs above the knees.
Satisfied that her legs were now tightly bound she stood up to grab her drink. Taking a sip she admired her work. The young blonde was lying on her side, brown hemp rope wrapped round her chest, standing out against the white of her blouse and framing the black bra beneath. Her bare legs were locked immovably together and she was only really able to bend her knees and flex her feet. She was looking up her captor, all blue eyes and red lips, apprehension etched over her face.
“Is that it?”
“Far from it.”
***
Taking steps through these familiar halls in this unfamiliar body Jack reached the first staircase and began to ascend. Something was different this time. Something had gone terribly wrong, and he couldn’t wait to show Head Mistress Miriam Finch.
***
Miriam stepped forward and slipped her foot out of her heel. With a slight rustle of her dress she lifted her leg and placed her foot barely an inch away from Jennifer’s bright red lips. Locking eyes with Jennifer she began to slowly and purposefully slide her stocking down her leg.
“Why are you doing that, Miss Finch?”
“So you don’t scream, Miss Walters,” she smiled, taking the stocking in her hand and pressing it into Jennifer’s mouth.
“Mmmph?!”
“I tried to warn you,” she sighed, taking one of Miss Walter’s own stockings to tie between her teeth and complete the gag.
Leaning over she undid the black ribbon holding Jennifer’s hair and moved to sit with her feet in her lap. The blonde looked down at her feet in morbid fascination as the ribbon was threaded gently between her big toes and then tied tightly with a small bow.
“There. A lovely little package.”
“Mmmmrggh,” she replied.
“Now,” said Miriam, placing her fingertips on the soles of Miss Walters’ bound feet, “you may recall that I mentioned that Jack didn’t just leave his victims alone after he had them at his mercy.”
“Mmgr?”
“Are you ticklish, Jennifer?”
“MMPH!”
She started wildly shaking her head and trying to pull her helpless feet away but Miss Finch had her ankles in a vice like grip. Starting with a single nail she began to run her finger up the length of Jennifer’s sole. For someone who spent most of her time on her feet it was incredibly soft, not to mention sensitive judging by her frantic attempts to scream through the stocking stuffing her mouth.
“Now settle down, I’ve barely even gotten started,” she chided, letting her nail wander back down the other foot.
Jennifer was starting to struggle in earnest now and Miriam was beginning to lose her grip.
“Right, this is quite enough. As much as I appreciate the gesture you’re not making this easy. Jack is far, far worse, I assure you. Now I’m going to have to restrain you a little more so we can proceed.”
“MMM!” exclaimed the bound blonde, shaking her head furiously as her dark haired tormenter rose to her feet and picked up another length of rope.
“Now I want you to lie on your front and bring your legs up…” began Miriam, reaching down to grab her ankles.
Jennifer was beginning to severely regret her decision however and clumsily attempted to kick at the reaching hands.
“Why you little…right, enough of this.”
Miss Finch flung the rope to the floor and darted forward, grabbing a handful of blonde hair and wrenching Miss Walters onto her front. With her other hand she brought the palm of her hand down in a stinging slap on her backside. She’d played a lot of hockey in her youth and her hand connected with an audible crack.
The effect on Jennifer was profound and immediate. In an instant she went from being merely bound to being completely Miriam’s prisoner. She’d stopped her thrashing and was looking up wide-eyed at her captor, utterly still apart from deep and rapid breathing.
“That’s better,” smiled Miriam, retrieving the rope from the floor and looping it between Jennifer’s ankles. She pulled it tight then ran the rope up to the knot of rope at her elbows. She threaded it under and began to lever Miss Walters’ ankles up towards her wrists. She grunted through the gag as her heels met her fingertips but she didn’t attempt to offer any kind of resistance.
After weaving the rope several times back and forth between her arms and ankles she wrapped the excess round the strands of rope back up to the elbows, leaving nothing for any reaching fingers to find purchase on.
“You know, if I didn’t know any better,” said Miriam leaning down to bring her lips next to Jennifer’s ear, “I’d say you were beginning to take to this.”
Jennifer was too tightly trussed to even shrug in reply but her eyes flicked away from Miriam’s gaze and her cheeks began to flush. The corner of Miriam’s mouth twitched up and she sat back at her feet, now raised up in the air. From this angle she could see that Jennifer had painted her toenails a vivid red.
“You know, Smiling Jack might not have been too far off the mark you know,” she said, placing a hand on the other woman’s calf, “maybe we could try and re-institute some of his policies. Maybe I’ll even let you try your hand at this on me, if you’re lucky. But not quite yet. So, let’s see if this stops you wriggling quite as much.”
***
Jack lingered in one of the deeper patches of shadow in one of the corridors of the upper floors. He’d gone past the Head Mistress’s quarters without thinking, instinct drawing him to the dorm rooms full of waiting victims. He’d already chosen what would have normally been his only victim from the student body. A young red-haired girl, the colour nearly as vivid as the pumpkin that he was looking at her through. She was slender and graceful. Normally he gravitated to fuller figured girls but he was entranced by the litheness of her movements, like a dancer’s. Though he only walked with the memory of a body he could almost feel the blood pounding in his ears as he watched her laughing with a group of her friends, dancing along to a radio with the volume turned down low.
No.
Not just yet.
He had other business to attend to. He filed the girl away for later and turned back toward the stairs downward, rustling down them like a quiet wind.
He found his way to the correct place easily. The Head Mistress was normally his first stop, an easy way to brush the cobwebs away before his later hunt. As he approached the door he could hear a familiar sound coming through the door. Muffled laughter.
“Well, well, Miss Finch. What has my favourite little bird been up to?” he croaked to himself, his rictus grin mirroring his mood.
***
Jennifer thrashed uselessly as her employer danced her fingers across her helpless feet, nails and fingertips playing her like an instrument. One moment they were worming in between her toes, the next spidering down the tops of her feet. The movements somehow managed to be dizzyingly fast yet at the same time, have a lazy quality to them that kept her fear and anticipation spiking. Her normally immaculate hair was strewn haphazardly across her face, sticking to her cheeks where tears of laughter had run down them. Her skirt had ridden up to her thighs and another couple of buttons had popped open in the struggle and she was petrified that the opening would be used against her to allow Miss Finch to turn her attention to her bare navel.
There was a short pause to allow her to catch her breath and she used the moment to look pleadingly at Miriam.
“You know, those big blue eyes of yours just make me want to torture you more. But I think you’ve got the gist of at least some of the things to expect. Time to release you I think.”
“Don’t stop on my account,” came a voice from the door that made Jennifer’s blood run cold. She craned her head round to see but Miriam’s body was blocking her view of the doorway.
“Ah, Jack. How nice to see you again.”
“How unfailingly polite you are, as always, Miss Finch. But, as always the pleasure is very much mine.” The voice was the sound of low screams over dry leaves somehow formed into words. Jennifer was petrified. The reality of her situation and what she’d agreed to gripping her. Miss Finch on the other hand seemed unperturbed by the intrusion.
“You’re too kind. I have enough rope in here for me and my colleague has gathered ample supplies for your evening which you can find in the room down the corridor that used to belong to Miss Brady.”
“Excellent. I’ll see to you shortly but first…” there was a pause punctuated by one of the incredibly heavy wingback armchairs being casually swung round to be closer to the bed and a figure stepping into Jennifer’s view. The appearance, from toe to neck was normal if somewhat tatty. Old, threadbare trousers and shirt over boots that were more patch than shoe and dusty leather gloves at the ends of the shirt sleeves. The only sign that something was amiss was the straw sticking out at the buttons of the shirt and edges of the clothes.
The face though. A pumpkin, perched atop the neck, empty save for an unearthly glow seeping from inside. The voice was coming from it seemed to materialise out of the air. She noticed that the bottle of whiskey was grasped in one hand as he sank haphazardly into the chair, one leg flung over the arm. His face seemed to be directly facing her and she had the distinct feeling of hungry eyes roving across her tightly bound body.
“What exactly have you been up to, Miriam?”
He gestured lazily at Jennifer while he thumbed out the cork.
“She very kindly offered to be on duty with me this evening, so I was preparing her for what you might inflict on her.”
“Ha. The lady doth protest too much. You’ve learnt to do this too well to hate it, Miriam. I never thought you wanted me stopped when we made our bargain, you just wanted more control over it.”
“Maybe,” she shrugged, face impassive.
He chuckled and threw back his head to pour some of the whiskey into his carved mouth. Some of it splashed out when he brought his head back down to look at the women.
“I know you’re just distracting me, keeping me from having my fun with your girls. I think it’s time we got you out of my way.”
Jennifer watched in horror as she nodded calmly, stood up and turned around with her hands behind her.
“Good girl,” he snickered, picking up the first piece of rope and pulling her roughly towards him.
***
“Oh my God, Helen, that story was amazing,” breathed Mary, clutching a hand over her chest, “I think my heart is gonna burst right out of my chest.”
The blonde girl opposite Mary brought the candle up to her face so that the candle cast spooky shadows.
“I know,” she intoned.
Her sister slapped her on the back.
“Didn’t I tell you that Helen tells the best scary stories,” grinned Patty.
The three girls, two blondes and a redhead were sat on the floor in Helen’s dorm room, gathered round a single flickering candle and a bottle of wine that Patty had managed to get her hands on. It might have been the end of October but the heating at the school was doing a sterling job and so the three of them were only in their nightclothes.
“Come on, Mary. Your turn,” grinned Helen, picking up the wine and taking a swig.
“What! Are you kidding? No way can I follow that Smiling Jack story, mine would be terrible.”
“Well, in that case, I think you should do a dare,” laughed Patty, virtually squealing with delight.
Mary opened her mouth to protest but when she saw the determined glee in the sisters’ eyes she realised it would be hopeless.
“Ok, fine. What do I need to do?”
The blondes looked at each other.
“Hmmm, what do you think, Patty?”
“I dunno. We could tie her up, like Smiling Jack does.”
“Nah, too easy. It’s gotta be something scary. I think she should go down and kiss the scarecrow!”
“Are you out of your mind!? I’m not going anywhere near a scarecrow after that story.”
“Well it’s that or we tie you up and tickle you the whole night.”
Indecision wracked her face for a few moments before she sighed deeply.
“Fine. But just a peck. I’m not going to first base with that thing.”
She stood up and slipped on the school shoes she’d brought with her.
“You two coming?”
“And get caught? No way. We can see it from the window, we’ll watch you from here and keep the wine safe.”
“You two are the worst. Fine. I’ll be back soon.”
The two of them giggled as Mary left the room.
“Come on, let’s get ready to watch her come out. We can bang on the glass and really scare her,” said Helen, skipping over to the window.
“That’s weird,” said her sister when she got to the glass, “I don’t see the scarecrow.”
***
The rope bit into Miriam’s skin as he wrapped it round her wrists. It only took seconds of well practiced movements and she was tightly bound and at his mercy in front of him. That wasn’t enough though. He took more and secured her elbows together, copying what Miriam had done to her employee.
“What’s her name,” asked Jack as he picked up the third piece of rope.
“Jennifer Walters, she’s not been with us a full year just yet,” she replied, while Jack passed a rope round her chest and under her breasts. His hands weren’t exactly careful to keep to themselves as he passed the rope around again above her chest.
“Well don’t worry, Jennifer, I’ll get to you soon,” he leered as he hitched the rope at Miriam’s elbows and then passed it over one shoulder, down between her breasts and the back up over the other shoulder.
“Mmrgh!”
“Be gentle with her,” said Miriam.
He made a sneering sound and flung her down onto the bed by the hair. He reached forward and grabbed Jennifer’s blouse and tore it open, popping off the last few buttons.
“Tell me what to do again and her bra is coming off,” he said, “now cross those pretty ankles.”
Without a word the headmistress crossed her feet so that Jack could tie them. She winced as he pulled the ropes tight round her ankles. Knees followed, helped by Jack pulling her dress up to her waist. The ensemble was completed when he tied her ankles to her arms.
With Miss Finch suitably restrained he settled down at her feet. He was eager to experience the beautiful, terrified blonde that had been watching while a monster from a nightmare restrained her colleague while she lay gagged and helpless. But playing with Miss Finch was a tradition.
He began running his hands down his victim, starting with her hair, her shoulders, down her sides and over her behind. Even through his hay-stuffed gloves he could feel intimately the green fabric of her dress, the warmth of her skin seeping through. He carried on down her thighs, calves, over her bound ankles to her feet.
“Mmmm,” he murmured.
“Like the dress?”
“Very much so. Now, I want you quiet. Don’t make another sound.”
He began to caress the soles of her feet, gently at first, just for the sake of enjoying the feel of them. Before long the long slow touches began to increase in speed and pressure.
Miriam had always had sensitive feet. As a teenager it had been one of her brother’s favourite ways to annoy her, pinning her down and raking his fingers across the bottoms of her feet to try and bring tears to her eyes and ruin her makeup. Coupled with the fact that she’d spent much of the day on her feet, Jacks touch was utter torture. She gritted her teeth and tried uselessly to move them out of his reach.
After less than five seconds she turned her head so she could clench the bed sheets between her teeth to hold back the laughter.
“Let’s give you a small break,” smiled Jack, his mood matching his pumpkin. He took his hands from Miriam’s feet, one going to her side and the other to Jennifer. Miss Walters screamed into her gag and tried to throw herself away from Jack’s reaching fingers but wasn’t able to keep her feet safe. Despite his hands being nothing but gloves and straw his touch was far worse than Miss Finch’s had been. It was if some sort of electricity was flowing from his fingers. She could feel it over every inch of her feet all at once, from the heels to in between her toes.
He carried on for a few seconds before turning back to the brunette.
“Now, let’s make you scream.”
***
Mary hugged her arms to her chest as she tiptoed down the stairs to the second floor landing. Miss Finch and Miss Walters both had their rooms on the corridor that led immediately off the landing of the only set of stairs to the ground floor. She’d made a point of telling her students that this was absolutely by design and God help the girl who woke either of them up in the night by trying to sneak out.
This was the tricky part. The red haired girl slowly started picking her way across the landing to the next set of stairs, tentatively probing each floorboard with her leather clad toes, searching for creaks. She nearly jumped out of her skin at a noise from down the corridor. She couldn’t quite make out the sounds but it sounded like muffled laughter. That made her breathe a sigh of relief. She was probably safe. No doubt Miss Finch and Miss Walters were having a nightcap and had gotten a little merry.
She still had to be careful though if her teachers were drunk. It was probably just to scare her but Felicia claimed that Miss Finch had tied her up one night while she slept and done a fine job of it. She’d had first her own then the head mistress’s used, sweaty stockings forced into her mouth as a gag, the latter directly from her teacher’s feet. The torture and humiliation was compounded when Miriam returned with some marking, sat on the bed, slipped off her shoes and proceeded to position them squarely over the captive girl’s face.
Obviously Felicia had been making the whole thing up, but on a dark night something like that could play on a girl’s mind.
Safety.
She reached the next set of stairs and slipped down them like a shadow. Her path uninterrupted, she fled through the looming shadows to the front door. Taking a deep breath before venturing into the cold she undid the latch and heaved the door open. The cold air rushed in past her legs, fluttering her nightgown and sending shivers up her spine. The cold was soon forgotten though as she stepped out into the night. The post was there but the scarecrow was nowhere to be seen. That chilled her far more than the late October air.
She lingered at the doorway, scanning the darkness nervously. Suddenly every shadow held a waiting monster, hands full of rope to drag her into the darkness. She took a deep, steadying breath. Maybe she could go back inside? What was the point in her going outside if there was no scarecrow for the dare?
No. The girls would only call her chicken. She took a step out into the dark, a new level of cold air hitting her skin, flowing down into her shoes and around her feet. She pressed forward. Hugging her arms tightly she walked up to the empty post and turned to scan the windows. She spotted the candle flame held by Helen and Patty and waved up, followed by miming a kiss toward the empty post.
That done she tore back inside and virtually slammed the door. She stood, breathing deeply for several long seconds while her heart thundered. That had been, without a doubt, one of the most terrifying experiences of her life, made somehow worse and better by the missing scarecrow. She knew that it was probably just some prank by another group of girls but it had really spooked her.
***
Miss Walters knew it was her turn now. Jack was currently in the process of forcefully stuffing Jennifer’s stocking into Miriam’s mouth. She’d soldiered on valiantly for nearly five minutes, biting her lip and holding back the laughter while Smiling Jack’s fingers had moved their way across every spot on her body that was even remotely sensitive. She’d finally broken when he’d moved her foot into the space carved for his mouth. She wasn’t sure what had happened but Miriam had reacted as if her foot had been set on fire, screaming wildly.
As she’d feared, Jack pulled her towards him. His fingers found their way to her feet and her exposed ribs. Miriam had been right. This was far worse. The tickling was maddening, an awful cross between the feeling of bare fingers and of the scratching of straw or hay, coupled with the kind of practice that only a fanatic could achieve.
She felt his hands on her calves and that was when she discovered what had had such an effect on her companion. She could feel warm breath and a wet tongue roving between her toes.
It was indescribable.
It was awful.
It was far from over.
***
In reality, it had probably only been ten or fifteen minutes but it had seemed like hours. Jennifer lay panting through her nose, sweat pouring down her forehead as Jack untied hers and Miriam’s ankles from their respective hands. She mumbled weakly into the gag, begging for release. Jack turned his face to her.
“Not yet sweetie, I’ll come back for some more fun,” he told her. Apparently he had understood. Must have had a lot of practice.
Next he swivelled Miss Finch round so that the two women were top to tail. He ran a short rope round each of their ankles and behind their necks to keep them in that position.
While Miss Walters shrank away from their captor, Miss Finch held his stare evenly whenever it turned her way, even when Jack leaned close, Jennifer’s bound feet partially covering her face.
“Right now, I have a redhead to hunt, but I’ll be back. You see, I have more time tonight. I have all the time in the world.”
Miriam cocked her eyebrow at his cryptic statement.
“Look closely at this pumpkin of mine,” he said, tapping it for effect.
The realisation made her shrink back.
“Now you see. I don’t know what happened exactly, but when I woke up, I knew something was different. This time it was plastic. Maybe one of your girls knocked the real one off by accident and replaced it. And with this thing…well, who knows how long it could last. Maybe I could keep you like this for months. Get all of your girls tied up in a row. Anyway, I must be off. Don’t go anywhere.”
Miss Finch was already struggling furiously against her bindings as Jack opened the door to leave but she knew from bitter experience that she wouldn’t make any headway. She was helpless.
***
Mary was making her way as quietly as she could up the stairs to the landing off Miss Finch and Miss Walters’ corridor. Her foot had barely touched the landing carpet when she heard a door open. She swore quietly to herself and looked around frantically. She’d make too much noise going back down the stairs and if she tried to continue upwards she’d pass right in front of the teacher’s line of sight. Taking the only option left she hurried down the passage to her right and stepped round the corner at the end. Sure of her hiding place she peered back round to work out who was up and where they were going.
By now the door had closed and a second one had opened. Odd, she could hear footsteps but not the distinctive clack clack of either school mistress’s heels. The shoes sounded heavier.
There was a pause of maybe fifteen seconds before the door closed again. Footsteps made their way toward the stairs. Mary’s instinct was to hide but if she could catch sight of who was wandering about that might make avoiding them easier. If it was Miss Walters then it was probably just going to be a midnight trip to the bathroom or the kitchen for some water. If it was Miss Finch it was another story altogether. She might do rounds of the dorms to check that everything was in order. That would be trickier to avoid.
The footsteps reached the intersection. A figure suddenly occupied the dim gloom of the hallway lamp and it was all Mary could do to stifle a scream and duck back around the corner. She’d seen a man, nearly six feet tall, what looked like coils of rope in his hands. She recognised his clothes, they’d been on the scarecrow in front of the school. But that wasn’t what made her want to scream. On his head had been a pumpkin. This was smiling Jack!
***
Jack stood at the landing, feeling triumphant. The night was going very, very well for him. He was about to begin making his way up to the dorms to start hunting when something caught his attention. He sensed more than heard a stifled gasp of fear to his left.
“Looks like someone is out past her bedtime. What a naughty girl you are. And do you know what happens to naughty girls? They get PUNISHED!” He almost shouted the last word and slammed his foot down as he did so.
This time the girl wasn’t able to suppress a shriek and he got the barest glimpse of a swish of red hair as the girl at the end of the corridor turned and fled.
Jack wanted to grin even wider. Looks like his little red-head had come out to play. He loved it when they ran.
***
Mary swore at herself as she ran down the corridor. Now he knew that she was here and he had her in his sights. If he’d come from the teachers’ rooms that must mean they were already incapacitated, likely bound and struggling at this very moment. She’d intended to lay low until he was out of sight so that she could go and untie Miss Finch and Miss Walters, they’d have known what to do. But now that she’d revealed herself he’d be after her.
Suddenly the stories from the dorm rooms had taken on a horrible new light. It had gone from fun and friendly fear to something else entirely. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it must be terror. She thought that she’d felt terror before but this must be it. There was another layer over the fear, and it couldn’t be excitement could it? That vague desire to get caught must just be morbid curiosity or some odd quirk of the fight or flight response. Like when people freezing to death took off all their clothes. It couldn’t be excitement. It wasn’t like she’d enjoy being caught, was it?
***
Jennifer and Miriam were currently attempting to use their feet to remove each other’s gags so they could communicate and perhaps use their teeth to untie some knots. At the very least they’d free themselves from the overpowering taste of used stockings in their mouths. Unfortunately though they were making very little progress. With Jennifer’s big toes tied together she couldn’t get the correct angle to pull the gag from between Miriam’s teeth. All she was succeeding in doing was managing to push her toes between Miss Finch’s lips.
Likewise, Miriam was rubbing her feet over Jennifer’s cheeks fruitlessly, unable to shift the gag. She was definitely beginning to regret the decision to secure Miss Walters quite so securely. It had been arrogance. After being on the receiving end so many times she had been eager to prove that she was just as skilled as Jack and put someone else through it for a change.
The position he’d put them in, faces pressed against each other’s bare feet would have been humiliating enough on its own but being forced to smell their counterpart’s feet after a long day in leather heels and warm classrooms was far from pleasant. The struggling against the ropes was causing both of them to get more than a little hot and sweaty as well. It was going to be a long night.
***
Mary held her breath. She’d fled as quietly as she could from corridor to corridor but the footsteps behind her were ever-present. She couldn’t seem to be able to shake them. Every time she turned a corner a rasping voice would call some taunt after her.
Now she was crouched under Miss Walters’ desk in her classroom. The footsteps reached the door and stopped.
“Please go by, please go by,” she whispered to herself over and over again.
The door opened. She saw a pair of boots step over the threshold in the moonlight. The door closed.
“Looks like I have you cornered, little rabbit,” he rasped, beginning to walk along the rows of desks toward the front of the classroom.
“Mary, isn’t it? I got your name from Miss Finch before I shoved a gag in her mouth.”
He came to a stop at the edge of Mary’s hiding spot and she heard the wood above her creak as he sat on the edge of the desk.
“Have you heard of me, Mary? They call me Smiling Jack.”
He dropped a bundle of rope to the floor, directly in front of Mary’s face.
“I want to play with you, Mary. I won’t hurt you, just like I didn’t hurt your teachers. They’re tied up. Tightly tied up, but that’s all. Now, I want to tie you up as well, Mary. I saw you dancing to the radio upstairs. The way you moved. I want to see you struggle like that. Now I’m going to give you a choice. You can come over to me and bend over the desk so I can tie you up. Or I can pull you out from that desk by your hair.”
Mary let out a mix of a gasp and a sigh. Jack was tapping his foot gently while she made her decision. She was frozen, the only movement she was able to muster was to chew her bottom lip. Her heart was beating through her chest, actually causing her nightgown to flutter slightly. With a glacial level of hesitation, she crawled out from under the desk.
She stood up, keeping her eyes on her own black leather ballet flats, too afraid to raise her eyes to the nightmare sitting on the edge of her teacher’s desk. In her periphery, she saw a hand move and gently tap the short end of the desk. Keeping her eyes down she stood with her waist touching the edge of the desk.
“Smart girl. Now, bend over. You’re in a scary story now, Mary.”
***
“Pfha,” groaned Miriam as she spat out the stocking, “excellent job, Jennifer. Now, I’m going to untie your toes so that I can reach the knots round your ankles. But I’m not sure how to pick a knot this small with my teeth. Maybe I could just slip it off somehow?”
“Mmmsh myrr mmnng?”
“My tongue? Hmm, I think that might work. I’m sorry for how this is going to feel.”
Miriam allowed herself a moment to grit her teeth and steel herself before gently parting her lips and sticking out her tongue. She slipped it between Miss Walter’s soles and ran it up toward the strands of black ribbon. Jennifer Walters let out what sounded like a moan. She tried to ignore the sound as she let her tongue wander round the silken binding, looking for some purchase. She inadvertently ended up licking in and around her colleague's big toes as well. Fruitlessly.
“Hmmm, I’m sorry about this, but it’s all I can think of.”
She opened her lips wider and leant forward, taking the bound blonde’s toes into her mouth.
That time, she definitely heard a moan.
***
Mary’s chest touched the wood as she bent forward. Jack stood from his perch on the desk and bent to pick up the rope.
“Put your hands behind you, little rabbit.”
Mary shuddered but crossed her wrists behind her as instructed.
“I think you’re more flexible than that, little dancer.”
She felt gloved hands close round both her wrists, gentle but unbreakable. Slowly but surely Jack pushed her hands up, first so that her forearms were parallel and then further, till her hands were palm to palm in a prayer position at the centre of her back.
“Why are you doing this?” whispered Mary as he began to encircle her wrists with rope. Jack let the question hang in the air a moment while he finished tying her hands, wrapping the rope round, cinching and knotting it. He started working on one of her elbows next, binding the forearm to the upper arm.
“Because I like it.”
“Is that all?”
“No,” he answered, making short work of first one elbow and then the second. He didn’t elaborate. Instead he knelt behind her, at her ankles and spread them apart, so that each one was next to a leg of the desk. The position forced the poor, captive redhead onto her tiptoes. First one, then the other of her heels popped out of her school shoes, leaving the shoe flat on the floor, her toes still safely enclosed but her heels in the night air.
“Why then?” she asked as Jack proceeded to secure her ankles to each of the legs of the desk.
He chuckled and took a longer piece of rope which he knotted round her wrists and then passed under the desk, strapping her down to it. She took a moment to try and flex her muscles. As she suspected, she was utterly helpless. Every way she might be able to struggle or get leverage with her arms had been tied down and bent over on her tiptoes like this she couldn’t do much with her legs.
“Because I think girls like it too,” he told her, “now open wide.”
A bright red ball came into Mary’s view, attached to a black leather strap. She stared at it wide eyed for a few seconds before reluctantly complying. Jack pressed the gag between her teeth and it forced them apart, filling her mouth. Her head was forced down onto the table so that he could buckle it tightly at the nape of her neck.
“Now,” he said, picking up a wooden ruler from underneath the blackboard. With the tip, he traced from the ropes at her right heel, up the curves of her calf and thigh to her behind, barely covered by her nightgown.
“Struggle for me,” he commanded, emphasising his point by drawing the ruler back and cracking it loudly across her buttocks.
She gave a muted squeal as the wood struck her and began pulling this way and that, trying to slip a rope or bring a knot within reach of her questing fingers. Nothing. No give. No knots.
“Struggle harder,” he ordered, bringing the ruler back for another stroke.
***
“I wonder where Mary got to,” Helen wondered aloud, taking a swig of wine and leaning back on the bed.
“I still don’t think she chickened out,” sighed Patty from the other end.
Helen stuck her tongue out at her bound sister.
“You lost the bet, now stop your whining, and change feet.”
Patty groaned. Her sister was lying across the bed with her bare feet in her lap. Patty’s hands and feet were bound with school ties and there were belts around her knees and strapping her arms to her chest. The two sisters, while waiting for Mary to reach the outside, had decided to make a bet. They’d taken some inspiration from Helen’s story for a forfeit and the loser had to be tied up and massage the feet of the winner. Helen was so convinced of the terror that her story would inflict that she bet that Mary wouldn’t make it back up to the room for any further stories. Patty, on the other hand, had more faith in their friend and had said she would.
“If it turns out that she was got by Smiling Jack or a teacher then I’m tying you up, twice!” said Patty.
“If you can prove either of those you can both tie me up every day for a month and do whatever you like with me,” shrugged Helen, “now. Shall we have another story?”
***
Crack!
“And that’s ten,” said Jack.
“Mmrrhrmm,” whimpered Mary through the rubber ball between her teeth. She’d struggled as hard as she could but hadn’t made an inch of headway and now she was panting heavily and beginning to sweat. She could feel his hands on her legs now, at the back of her knees. She thought he was going to add some more rope until she felt it begin to tickle.
She began struggling again with renewed vigour, the fluttering of his fingers sending electricity up and down her body.
“That’s more like it,” he leered, moving his right hand down to stroke his fingers up and down her exposed sole. Her foot jerked so hard that it was sent skittering over the floor.
“Look what you did, tut tut tut,” laughed Jack, retrieving the shoe, “let’s put this somewhere safe.”
He picked it up and placed it affectionately directly under her nose. Another length of rope and it was secured tightly to her face, her nose pressed into the toe.
Jack then proceeded to untie the rope from her bare foot, attaching it to the desk leg, leaving the rope round her ankle. Using the rope as a leash he pulled her foot up behind her into something resembling a ballet pose and knotted it to the ropes at her hands.
He placed both hands on her exposed foot, fingers beginning to stroke, and brought his pumpkin down towards her wriggling toes.
“Let’s really give this foot some attention.”
***
The clock struck four.
Jennifer Walters and Miriam Finch had been stripped to their negligee and were kneeling side by side in front of the fire. While Miriam was no longer gagged, Jennifer had been blindfolded to make up for it. Their bindings had been retied and now their wrists were tied palm to palm in front of them and secured to their thighs and run through to be knotted at their ankles. Rope crossed their arms and chests above and below their breasts, between them and around them, creating elaborate harnesses. Makeshift collars made out of knotted rope were fastened round each of their throats.
Jack was lounging in a chair in front of the two women, Mary lying curled in his lap. She was wrapped from head to toe in enough rope to have comfortably tied another four other women and to Miriam it seemed that she could see more rope than nightgown on the young woman. She was largely still apart from when one of Jack’s hands stroked or tickled her feet or sides.
“So, Headmistress.”
“Yes, Jack,” she replied curtly.
“Are you comfortable?”
She gave a noncommittal nod.
“Reasonably, considering. You should be very proud of your rope work.”
He laughed.
“I wonder if you’re quite as flattering when you’re not in bondage or helpless on your knees.”
“Let me go and you can find out.”
He chuckled again.
“Well, at least let Mary go. You’ve got Jennifer and I, aren’t we enough to occupy your attention?”
To emphasise her employer’s point Jennifer mewled into her gag and wriggled shoulders so that her chest moved under their ropes.
“Normally yes, but I’ve always enjoyed a girl with red hair, and on top of that, she’s a dancer. Plus, I think she’s having an alright time.”
He stroked her hair and she mmphed quietly into her ball gag.
“What do you want then, Jack?”
“I want to come out and play more often.”
“No. We have our deal.”
“And we’re renegotiating it, Miss Finch. The pair of you are helpless. It wouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours to track down and capture the rest of your students. Then I could keep the lot of you as my slaves for months before someone came looking. But I’m offering you a way out. Agree to my terms and I’ll release you at dawn as usual.”
Miriam sighed and leant her head back to look at the ceiling.
“How often?”
“That’s better. Once a month I get the run of the place.”
Miriam shook her head and looked back to Jack.
“You get the run of the place twice a year, twice more you can have an evening with Jennifer and I.”
“Final offer. My run of the place three times a year. Three times a year I get you and your teachers, and Mary if she’s willing. The rest of the time I’ll keep to myself in the woods or let my spirit wander the halls unobtrusively. Any girls that stray out of bounds into the forest though get a night with me.”
Miss Finch looked from Jennifer to Mary. She was comfortable but that was an illusion. Her hands may as well have been welded to her thighs. Twenty minutes of hard struggling and sucking on Miss Walter’s toes earlier had only succeeded in removing one gag and the ribbon between her toes. They weren’t escaping unless Jack let them. She had no choice in the matter.
“Fine. I accept.”
“And one more thing.”
“What else?”
“You’re going to introduce some new disciplinary methods at the Academy, Miriam.”
“What kind?”
“My kind.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I watched you playing with that blonde teacher. And you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
Miriam looked over to Jennifer.
“Yes, I did.”
I really hope you like the story, comments and feedback very welcome! Also, have a look at my site for some other free stuff
. One day the rest of the stories in this series will be up ther.https://sheriffofknots.com/free-stuff/
