All Tied Up With No Place To Go
by Tirepanted
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Part I of XI
The mansion which Lady Susanne Hardwicke owned and lived in was large and beautiful – quite beautiful, indeed. The imposing house was built of solid marble and stretched four stories high, and the inside was even more impressive. Built in the early 1700s by an ancestor of Mrs. Hardwicke, the structure was filled with statues of knights and mounted animal heads, along with numerous paintings which had aligned the walls for centuries. The ceilings were high and the stairwells winding, and it was said that a few people had at some point or another gotten lost and never found their way out of the seemingly endless series of hallways.
Surrounding the mansion was an area of land that spanned half a mile in every direction, before finally coming to a stop at a thick ten-foot-high stone wall. The exterior of the mansion was populated with sweet-smelling flowers, trees, and shrubbery, the sort of lush greenery that was all-too-rare in an environmentally indifferent world.
Naturally, such a valuable locale would be a welcome target for many thieves, so Lady Hardwicke had imposed a security detail in the grounds outside the mansion. Lady Hardwicke never trusted men – she had divorced her husband five years ago after suspecting that all he cared about was her money – and so she had made sure to hire an all-female security team. One dozen women were situated around the mansion, and all had been highly trained in all forms of combat. They all dressed in similar uniforms – skintight grey flannel shirts and pants, black Kevlar bulletproof vests, elbow-length black leather gloves, thick elbow and knee pads, tight black hoods with night-vision visors, and black steel-toed combat boots. Each woman carried a high-powered rifle, and their belts were adorned with numerous other weapons.
Maxine patrolled her sector of the mansion’s grounds, keeping alert for anything out of the ordinary. The day had been uneventful so far, as per usual. She paced back and forth, awaiting the hourly call from her superior officer to check in.
Like clockwork, the officer’s voice sounded from the radio that was strapped to Maxine’s belt. “Sector 3B.”
Maxine lifted the receiver to her lips and stated, “Check.”
A miniature tranquilizer dart whizzed through the air and swiftly entered Maxine’s open mouth, striking her in the inner left cheek. Maxine froze on the spot, then sank to the ground as the sedative did its work.
Natasha vaulted over the stone wall, dart gun in hand. She smiled. The b!tch never saw it coming. The effects of the dart would take at least forty-eight hours for her to sleep off.
Natasha reached under the guard’s shoulders and dragged her behind some nearby bushes. She knelt down before her unconscious victim and began relieving her of her clothes. First, she unclipped the weapons belt and slid it off, setting it aside. Then she unstrapped the Kevlar vest and eased it off the woman’s shoulders. She unstrapped the pads from her elbows and knees. Natasha next proceeded to remove the heavy combat boots from the woman’s feet, and then the white socks beneath them. She pulled off the woman’s headgear, causing gorgeous locks of blonde hair to spill out onto the grass.
Natasha propped the woman up and pulled off her grey flannel shirt, introducing her to a large white Spartan brassiere. She eased the pants off as well, allowing her to view the guard’s pair of white cotton panties, as well as a pair of white hold-up thigh-high stockings. Natasha removed the stockings and set them down with the rest of the uniform.
Natasha pulled off her own clothing and began to disguise herself. She pulled on the hold-up tights, relishing the snap they made against her thighs. She then squirmed into the tight grey flannel shirt, followed by the pants and socks. She strapped on the bulletproof vest, and donned the elbow and knee pads. The heavy black boots were next, one followed by the other. Natasha clicked the belt around her trim waist. She pulled the hood and visor over her head, tucking in her long blond hair, and buckled the chinstrap.
Natasha then removed a couple of zip-ties from her pocket. She crossed the guard’s arms behind her back and used one of the ties to bind them. The other she pulled around the woman’s ankles, ensuring that it was tight. Muscular as the dozing security guard was, it would be impossible for her to break free of her bonds. Natasha pulled a roll of green tape from her pocket and wrapped a length of it around the woman’s lower face, completely obscuring her mouth.
Her captive secured, Natasha emerged from the bushes, fully dressed in uniform and equipment. As she assumed her victim’s position, the radio crackled to life once again. “Sector 3B.”
Natasha lifted the radio to her lips and provided a perfect imitation of Maxine’s voice. “Check.”
So far, all was according to plan.
***************
The wheels of the delivery truck ground against the dirt road as the vehicle turned off the ramp.
Amelia gripped the wheel with skilled hands, weaving the truck in and out of traffic. At twenty-three, she was one of the younger workers at the Federal Express delivery service.
Dressed in a green jumpsuit and brown low-heeled boots, with a green baseball cap atop her long blonde hair, she certainly looked the part of a delivery woman, but her colleagues still treated her as something of a grown-up child. Either that, or they didn’t take her seriously because of her looks. Amelia was certainly good-looking, both in beauty and proportion, but she resented the fact. How could she succeed in her job if no one would be willing to see past her exterior?
Amelia sighed. “Get it together, girl,” she told herself. “You’ve got work to do.” She glanced at the clipboard which lay on the seat beside her. Fourteen packages needed to be delivered today. All currently lay in the back of her truck.
Amelia turned her eyes back to the road, hoping to make all the deliveries by five o’clock that afternoon. As she drove down a gravel road flanked with trees, her dark blue eyes spotted a row of traffic cones blocking the path ahead.
“Great,” she muttered. Of all the roads she could choose to travel, she had to pick the one that was under construction. Amelia noticed a yellow pickup truck by the side of the road, and a construction worker leaning on the door.
Amelia drove up to where the woman was standing and rolled down her window. “Hi,” she said politely.
The woman flashed a grin in return. She was dressed in a black shirt, orange vest, blue jeans, and black sneakers. Her fiery red hair was done up in a ponytail and covered by a yellow construction hat. “Good morning, ma’am.”
Amelia gestured toward the traffic cones on the road ahead. “May I… go through?”
The woman shook her head. “Sorry. We’re gussying up the road today. Can’t have any tires plowing through our freshly poured asphalt, can we?”
Amelia frowned. “Well… is there any road that can take me around it? I have some important deliveries to make today.”
The woman nodded understandingly. “I happen to have a map of this area. It’s in the glove compartment.” She flicked a gloved thumb in the direction of her truck. “Would you like to have a look?”
Amelia nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
The woman touched the tip of her hat, and turned toward her truck. Amelia smiled. It was nice to encounter someone who was willing to take time out of her day and help her.
As Amelia sat back and waited for the woman to return with the road map, her ears picked up a peculiar sound. It seemed like a sort of persistent thumping. Glancing out the window, her eyes fell upon the back of the pickup truck, which was covered with a tarpaulin. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed like something was repeatedly pressing up against the tarpaulin, trying to break through.
Amelia was puzzled by what could cause such an occurrence, but she forgot about it as the construction woman returned to her vehicle with a folded paper. “One map, on request,” she smiled, holding out the article.
“Thank you so much,” Amelia replied as she held out her hand to take it.
As Amelia’s hand grasped the map, the construction woman suddenly grabbed her wrist. As Amelia looked up in surprise, the woman brought a damp cloth out from behind her back, reached into the truck, and pressed it firmly over her mouth. Amelia’s eyes widened as she breathed in the cloth’s sweet smell. The aroma was intoxicating, overpowering. Amelia began to grow dizzy. Her eyelids drooped and fluttered closed.
The construction worker held the cloth against Amelia’s nose and mouth for another thirty seconds to ensure that she was well and truly unconscious. Then she removed it, unlocked the door of the truck, and dragged Amelia out, laying her out on the ground.
The woman observed her sleeping victim. “Perfect,” she said. “You’re just about my size.”
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Part II of XI
Jenny knelt down by the young delivery truck driver and stroked her golden hair. “I’m very sorry, dear,” she said soothingly. “But I need this uniform more than you do.”
She gripped one of Amelia’s boots and slid it daintily off her foot, revealing a white woolen sock. She repeated the process with the other boot, laying the footwear aside. Then she pulled off the socks, revealing two shapely calves and ten ruby red painted toenails.
Jenny grasped the zipper at Amelia’s neck and pulled it down the length of her chest and waist. She pulled open the unzipped outfit, revealing a pair of firmly rounded breasts held in place by a white support bra. She pulled the outfit down the length of Amelia’s body, revealing a matching pair of white bikini panties, as well as a pair of long, slender legs.
Jenny stood up and dusted herself off. She strutted over to her pickup truck and gripped the tarpaulin, pulling it back.
Had Amelia been conscious at this moment, she would certainly have realized the source of the persistent thumping against the tarpaulin. A young woman, dark-haired and doe-eyed, attractive and well-endowed, lay in the back of the truck. Her wardrobe currently consisted of nothing other than a blue demicup bra and figure-hugging panties. A length of nylon rope secured her wrists together, and more rope was wrapped around her thighs and ankles. Her mouth was filled with her own ivory-colored tights, which were held in place by a strip of duct tape. The woman’s eyes opened wide upon seeing the face of her captress, and she began whimpering pleadingly.
Jenny lifted a finger to her lips. “Hush, dear. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m not going to hurt you. All I needed was your construction uniform.”
The woman sobbed softly into her gag. Jenny took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the tears from her face.
“Shhh… Be a brave girl. Don’t worry… Someone will find you very soon.”
Her words seemed to calm the poor girl, who stopped whimpering, though she still wore a pained expression as she watched the woman who was now dressed in her clothes reach into a nearby box and pull out a coil of thick but pliable white nylon rope and a roll of black duct tape. Then she replaced the tarp, leaving the bound and gagged girl in complete darkness.
Jenny walked back toward the delivery girl, who still lay slumbering on the ground. The girl was rather pretty, Jenny noted. She wondered why she had not chosen a more profitable career, like a fashion model. But now was not the time for speculation.
Jenny rolled the blonde onto her stomach and crossed her wrists behind her back. She tied the rope around the wrists, tightly binding them together. Then she moved over to her legs. Rope was wrapped around her ankles, and more rope was used to bind the girl’s upper thighs. Jenny rolled the girl onto her stomach again, admiring the way the young woman’s assets pointed prominently upward.
Jenny opened the girl’s mouth and placed one of her woolen socks inside. She thumbed it in behind the two rows of glistening white teeth, and closed the mouth. She then tore off a strip of duct tape and gently but firmly placed it over the girl’s bright red lips, smoothing it over her cheeks.
With the delivery girl now secure, Jenny hoisted her up and carried her over to the back of the truck. She lifted the tarp and placed her in alongside the similarly stripped construction worker. The dark-haired woman could only stare in shock.
“Listen,” Jenny addressed her conscious prisoner. “When she comes to, try to keep her calm. You won’t be here long. I’ll leave an anonymous tip with the police to come pick you up in about six hours. Just try to get some rest until then.”
The woman began to moan again, loudly. She began to kick back and forth in fear. Jenny sighed. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a cloth pad, dampening it with chloroform. As she brought it toward the construction worker’s face, the girl began to shrink back. But there was no escape.
“This hurts me more than it hurts you,” Jenny whispered as the intoxicating fumes did their work. The girl’s struggles slowed, her eyelashes fluttered, and she drifted off to sleep.
Jenny thought for a moment, then reached into her purse and drew out a pair of crisp twenty-dollar bills. She slid one into the brassiere of each of her victims. Then she replaced the tarp once more. She walked onto the road and removed all of the fake traffic cones.
Jenny stripped out of the construction uniform and zipped up the delivery uniform. She pulled the boots over her own stocking-clad feet. Then she placed the baseball cap over her own red hair and climbed into the truck. With a roar of the engine, she was off.
**************
Natasha paced back and forth along “her” sector of the grounds. The uniform she wore was tight around her thighs and posterior, and her breasts felt like they were about to burst right through her Kevlar vest. Still, she mused, she would not have to wear these clothes for much longer.
She glanced at her watch. 10:56 AM. Natasha smiled. She watched anxiously as the minutes ticked by, then the seconds…
At precisely 11 AM, Natasha made her way toward the side entranceway leading into the mansion. She removed a card from her belt – a card she had stolen from the now bound and gagged sleeping beauty Maxine – and swiped it across a panel situated near the door. A faint “click” was heard. Natasha gripped the knob with a gloved hand and swung the door open.
The hallway she now found herself in was long and vast. Picture frames ran the length of either side, and a winding stairway rose up from the opposite end. In addition, two hallways spread from either side of her, one leading to the dining hall, the other making a path to the washroom.
Natasha walked straight ahead, the clump-clump of her stolen steel-toed combat boots effectively muted by the red satin carpet. She climbed the stairway silently, clutching the banister with steady fingers.
Within moments, she reached the second floor, and took a look around. The hallway, like the one below it, was empty. At that moment, though, she heard one of the doorways being opened. Natasha quickly ducked behind a corner.
From a nearby room exited a young maid, who stood brushing down her skirt. She was dressed in a light blue short-sleeved uniform and over-the-knee blouse. Her light brown hair was laced up into a tight bun, and sensible white shoes adorned her feet. She did not notice Natasha, instead turning the opposite way.
Natasha slid her tongue across her upper lip. The woman seemed to be just the right size. Natasha watched as the woman bent down on one knee to tie her shoe, letting the edge of a pair of frilly pink panties peek out from her backside.
Silent as a mouse, Natasha crept up behind the unsuspecting maid. The woman seemed to detect a noise, for she jerked her head up – right as Natasha’s hand dealt a swift blow to her neck.
The maid pitched forward and lay still, her shapely rear end jutting skyward. Natasha sized the girl up and rubbed her hands together. She was going to enjoy this.
Picking up the girl from beneath her armpits, Natasha dragged her over and into a nearby linen closet, closing the door behind them. She then lay the girl down and began removing her uniform.
The woman’s shoes were unlaced and set aside. Her blouse was unbuttoned and pulled off, revealing a lacy pink bra that was just barely able to contain its two well-proportioned occupants. Her skirt was shimmied down smooth, shapely legs, revealing pink lace panties and a pair of nude-colored glossy tights. These were pulled off, too, so that the woman was clad in nothing more than her bra.
Natasha looked around the closet for a means of securing her victim, and her eyes fell upon a length of clothesline. She picked it up. Thin, pliable, but strong. Natasha’s bright red lips curled into a smile.
The maid’s hands were crossed behind her back and bound at the wrists. Her ankles were also secured, as well as her rather shapely upper thighs. The maid’s mouth was opened, and her own pink panties were thrust inside. Natasha produced a roll of thick black duct tape, and wound it several times around the girl’s cute mouth.
With a malicious grin, Natasha wound a length of clothesline a few times around the girl’s waist. She tucked the rope in at the front and ran it between her legs, pulling the rope as tightly as she could. She then hooked the rope over the woman’s bound arms. Natasha bent the woman’s legs back so that the heels very nearly touched the cheeks of her ass. She tied the crotch-rope to the rope which secured the woman’s ankles.
Then, she withdrew a small vial from her belt – a vial with a chemical that had been specially prepared in advance. The chemical would cause any flesh it came in contact with to itch uncontrollably. She dripped a few drops onto the woman’s curved back. Then she stood up with a smile.
The young, innocent maid was as helpless as could be. When she woke up, she would find out that even the slightest movement of her arms or legs would dig the crotch-rope in even deeper. She would also find an uncontrollable itching sensation on her back, so overwhelming that it would be practically impossible for her not to move her arms or legs. Natasha smiled broadly. No matter what she did, this woman would be spending the next several hours in unspeakable pain.
Natasha stripped off her stolen body armor and clad her lithe, muscled figure in the maid’s uniform and shoes. Just as she finished smoothing down the dress, she noticed the real maid was beginning to stir. Natasha smiled wickedly. “Thanks, dearie,” she said. Then she exited the closet and shut the door, leaving the woman in complete darkness.
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Part III of XI
Lady Suzanne Hardwicke sat before the mirror in her room, carefully applying her makeup. A tall, striking woman in her early thirties, Lady Hardwicke always made sure to look her best before stepping out in public. Today, she was dressed in a blue sweater over a white button-down blouse, a pleated over-the-knee black skirt, a waistline black leather belt, and shiny red high heels with a strap and decorative gold buckle. Her golden blond hair fell behind her shoulders in a perfect V-shape. A black choker with a diamond pendant hugged her neck, decorative rings adorned her fingers, and pearls hung from her ears.
Suzanne glanced at her wristwatch. The maid who brought her lunch each day should have been here by now. Suzanne wondered what was taking so long. After all, she had spent the last three hours tidying her appearance for the day ahead, and all the prepping had made her hungry.
Just as she was reaching for the phone to call the kitchen, a soft knock came from the other side of the carved oaken door which served as the entrance to her room.
Suzanne smiled, and arose from the stool which sat before her makeup mirror. She walked past her four-poster bed and the closet which held many of her other garments, and approached the door. Always the cautious one, she peered through the peephole.
A woman in a maid’s uniform stood outside the door, while a silver lunch cart rested beside her. The maid was blond and well-proportioned, with a beaming smile on her pretty face. Odd, though, she didn’t appear to be the usual serving girl. But in a house this big, who could tell?
Suzanne gripped the doorknob and twisted. The door eased open. Suzanne smiled at the maid. “You have my lunch?”
The maid nodded. “Only the best for you, madam.” She gripped the cart and wheeled it into the room.
Suzanne admired the maid’s figure as she walked past. The uniform she wore hugged every curve.
The maid picked up a steaming kettle from the tray and poured a cup of tea. Suzanne accepted it gingerly. “Thank you. Perhaps I‘m imagining things, but I don’t believe I’ve seen you around the mansion before.”
The maid smiled. “Oh, I just started work today. I’m still trying to get adjusted to wearing this uniform.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” Suzanne responded as she took a sip of tea. “Most of my girls are simply overwhelmed by the size of the mansion, but they soon manage to work their way around.”
The maid beamed. “Thanks, Milady. I think I’m going to enjoy working for you.”
Suzanne nodded with a smile as she took another sip of tea. Odd, she thought, but the drink tasted differently than usual. Different, and… better.
Suzanne blinked. All of the sudden, she felt rather tired. She struggled to keep her eyelids open.
“Wha… what’s happening?” she said slowly. “I… I feel…” She fell backwards.
Natasha quickly caught the woman before she hit the floor. She smiled broadly. The drugged drink had worked like a charm.
Natasha pulled the beautiful unconscious female over to the four-poster bed, letting her high heels drag against the carpet, and dropped her onto the bedspread. She admired the woman’s body, and noted with satisfaction that they were equal in size and measurements. Just as Natasha had counted on.
Natasha rubbed her hands together with sinister glee. Then she turned and walked into the nearby mahogany-crafted walk-in closet.
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Natasha exited the closet a few minutes later, now completely naked. She allowed the cool air from the room’s built-in air conditioning to wash over her body, over her chest and between her legs. It felt good to strut around another woman’s room, unclothed and while the owner of the room could do nothing about it. But she could only enjoy the sensation for so long. There was work to be done.
Natasha strode over to the knocked out woman who lay on the bed. The woman was lovely, and so were the clothes she wore – clothes Natasha soon intended to possess.
Natasha reached for the woman’s red shoes. She unstrapped the gold buckle on the left one, then eased it off her foot, which was encased in the seam of a glossy nude-colored stocking. Natasha then unbuckled and removed the other shoe, setting it down beside its twin.
Natasha moved up to the woman’s hands, and slid the rings off her dainty fingers. She also removed the lady’s gold-plated wristwatch. After that, the pearl earrings were eased off petite lobes. Natasha reached behind the woman’s slim neck and undid the strap of the diamond choker. She lay all the jewelry in a box on the dressing table.
Natasha propped the woman up and eased off her blue sweater. The garment was laid aside gently – after all, Natasha would soon be wearing it. She undid the buckle of the black belt and removed it from her victim’s trim waist. She then grasped the woman by the arms and gently turned her over onto her front. A big smile appeared on Natasha’s pretty face as she noticed the small black zipper which adorned the back of the over-the-knee back skirt, just below the waistline.
Natasha reached for the zipper, her hand brushing against the woman’s smooth curved ass as she did so, and grasped it between two fingers. She unzipped the garment and pulled it down the woman’s well-toned and shapely legs, revealing a pair of strong upper thighs.
With the smoothness that belied her reputation, Natasha turned the woman over on to her back again, causing her hair to fall over her face. Natasha brushed it out again, admiring how pretty the female looked. She was truly a “dream girl” – which was a very relevant title at the moment, seeing as she was currently in dreamland.
Natasha reached for the short-sleeved white blouse and undid the three gold buttons, one at a time. She sat the woman up again and slowly pulled the garment off her shoulders, sliding it down her arms and revealing a lacy cream-colored slip.
After hanging the blouse over a dressing chair, Natasha grasped the slip and pulled it up and over the woman’s head, revealing a white full-cup bra which was clearly working overtime. She admired the smoothness with which the article of clothing slid off its rightful owner, and set the slip aside.
Natasha’s hands moved down to the woman’s waist. He mind remained focused as she gripped the glossy nude stockings and pulled them down a pair of very fine and very feminine legs. A pair of white bikini panties was now on full view. Natasha hung the stockings over the chair.
Her mouth dry, Natasha rolled the unconscious female onto her front and reached for the strap which held her white bra in place. Elegantly, Natasha undid the small buckle and opened the strap. She then turned the woman on her back again and removed the bra, setting it daintily aside.
The only article of clothing the once-well-dressed woman now wore was a pair of sheer ivory bikini panties. Natasha inserted her thumbs into the woman’s waistband and very slowly pulled the panties down and off her legs. Both women in the room were now completely naked.
The absence of clothing did not last long, though. Even as she removed the unconscious female’s panties, Natasha lifted her own left foot from the carpeted floor. She stepped gingerly into the panties, then did the same with her other foot. She pulled the panties up her legs, letting the elastic band snap against her waist. The garment felt warm from its previous owner, a fact which Natasha appreciated.
Turning her back on the oblivious and unclothed woman, Natasha strode daintily over to the nearby chair and lifted the bra from its resting place. She fitted it against her own breasts, pulled the strap behind her back, and buckled it in place.
Next, Natasha lifted the glossy nude stockings, which had retained their shape during the stripping. She stepped a long, lascivious leg into one of the stockings and pulled it up her shapely thigh. Then, the other, equally luscious leg joined it in the other stocking. Natasha pulled the garment up and over the panties, snapping them against her trim waistline. She wiggled her toes, which were now concealed by the seams of the stockings.
Natasha grasped the ivory colored slip and lifted it from the chair. She pulled the garment up and over her head, slipping it onto her body. Natasha adjusted the two shoulder straps and dusted down the attractive undergarment.
Natasha reached for the short-sleeved white blouse. She slid her arms through the holes and fastened the three gold buttons with dainty fingers.
Once that was done, Natasha took the black skirt in hand and stepped her stocking-clad feet into it, one after the other. She pulled the garment up her thighs until it covered her posterior and fastened the zipper in the back.
Natasha reached for the belt and looped it around her well-proportioned waist. She pulled the belt through the buckle and locked it in place with a satisfying click.
Natasha retrieved the blue sweater, and pulled it over her head. She stuck her arms through the sleeves and pulled the garment onto her body. She then ruffled her hair, smoothing out the long blond locks.
Natasha walked over to the jewelry box and reached in. She drew the gold-plated wristwatch onto her wrist, and placed the rings on her fingers in the exact locations that their previous owner had. She then fastened the pearl earrings onto her lobes. Finally, she circled the diamond choker around her neck and clicked it in place.
Natasha padded over to the spot where the red high heels sat, awaiting new ownership. She inserted her left foot into one and buckled the decorative gold strap. Then she did the same with the other shoe.
Natasha stood up. She admired her new wardrobe. The clothing fit perfectly, as she knew they would. Now it was time to restrain her unconscious victim.
Part IV of XI
Natasha padded elegantly over to the maid’s cart which still stood by the locked mahogany door, her newly acquired clothes rustling pleasurably against her figure. She opened the small compartment at the base of the trolley and removed some specially prepared materials: A pair of white rubber stockings, a roll of thick white duct tape, and a white latex swimming cap. She smiled as she stood up and headed towards the bed.
Suzanne Hardwicke looked beautiful, almost angelic, in her current state. Her eyes were closed, their long lashes poised and still. Her facial expression was calm as the sea. Her golden hair spilled out behind her head, appearing as a sort of pillow. Her body lay motionless on the bedspread, as completely flawless as it was naked.
Natasha set her equipment on the floor and walked over to her sleeping victim. She put her hands beneath the woman and lifted her from the bed, laying her gently on the floor.
Natasha then picked up one of the white rubber stockings from the floor. She lifted her victim’s left foot and carefully worked the stocking over it. Then she picked up the other stocking and used it to tightly encase the other foot.
Natasha grasped the white latex swimming cap and pulled it over the woman’s blond hair. She made sure that not a single strand of hair escaped the rubber encasing. Then she folded the woman’s arms in front of her, letting each hand cover the opposite breast.
Natasha then picked up the roll of white duct tape and set to work. She began winding the tape around the woman’s ankles, right where the stocking met the leg. She continued to wind the tape around the woman’s lower legs, followed by her knees, her upper legs, and waist. Without pausing, she persisted to coil the tape around the woman’s navel, over her arms and chest, and up to her chin. She wound the tape several times over the woman’s mouth before pulling the tape over the bride of her nose, careful not to tape over the woman’s nostrils. Then she encircled the tape numerous times over the female’s eyes, effectively blindfolding her. She continued to wind the tape over the woman’s forehead until she reached the swimming cap, and then finally cut off the roll.
Natasha grinned broadly at the figure that lay before her. The woman was completely mummified, with not a trace of flesh showing beneath the numerous layers of duct tape, save for her petite nostrils. She could not even be identified as Lady Suzanne Hardwicke, millionaire heiress and prominent socialite. Save for a few curves on her well-toned figure, she could hardly be identified as a woman.
Natasha grasped the figure by its ankles and dragged her over to the nearby walk-in closet. She opened the door and stepped inside. Then she dragged the taped-up female in after her.
Four minutes later, Natasha exited the closet, and turned to survey what she had left behind. The unconscious and mummified form of Suzanne Hardwicke now hung upside down from the ceiling of the closet, slightly swaying back and forth. She gave no indication of bodily movement. Natasha smiled as she closed and locked the door. The woman would remain unconscious for another day or so, before awakening to a very dark and confusing world, with no hope of getting herself free.
Still smiling, Natasha strode over to the nearby makeup table. She sat her shapely rear on the stool, crossed her legs, and reached for some blush. She began applying makeup to her face, in effect changing her appearance. She applied just the right amounts of eyeliner and lipstick to make her look like the bound and gagged woman whose ass had so recently occupied that very seat.
After a few minutes, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The woman who stared back was beautiful, dressed in expensive clothing and adorned with attractive cosmetics. She may not have been a perfect double of Suzanne, but the differences were now quite minimal.
Natasha turned and rose from her seat, letting her dress slide down to her stocking-clad knees. She sashayed over to the nearby coat rack and selected a large blue feathered garment. She drew her arms into the sleeves and wrapped herself in the outfit’s clutches. She then turned to the hat rack and lifted a wide-brimmed pink hat, placing it over her gorgeous blond hair, which had been tied in a bun. Natasha felt a little prodding in the coat pocket, just below her left breast. She reached in and withdrew a pair of large pink-rimmed sunglasses. She smiled and placed them on her face.
Natasha gave herself one final look in the mirror. Few differences between her and the real Suzanne Hardwicke were now visible. Natasha had even practiced to ensure that her voice was an exact double of the real Suzanne’s. And now she was ready.
Natasha glanced one last time at the closet door, behind which was the real Suzanne Hardwicke. The woman had probably assumed her day would be uneventful. She had not remotely expected that she would spend the day knocked out, stripped, and thoroughly bound and gagged while another woman donned every article of clothing she had planned to wear that day.
Natasha lightly blew a kiss toward the closet door. “Thanks, honey. I knew these clothes would fit me perfectly.” She turned, opened the bedroom door, and stepped out, shutting it behind her. Natasha smiled broadly. She enjoyed how her body felt while dressed in her newly acquired garments. And she did not feel the least bit remorse for the way she had treated their real owner. After all, Natasha reasoned, every cent that Suzanne Hardwicke owned actually belonged to her.
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Laura adjusted her binoculars and gazed closely at the gas station which stood across the lonely road. Three gas pumps stood to attention, though one was currently out of commission. Behind them stood a small convenience store, which was currently locked.
A young station attendant sat on a chair in front of the store, her blonde hair tied into a ponytail beneath the blue cap, which matched the blue overalls that covered her white cotton shirt. Her low-heeled brown boots were propped up on a crate. The woman was currently in the process of leafing through a fashion magazine, and had no idea that she was currently being spied on.
A car approached, pulling up to one of the pumps beside the station. The attendant stood up and padded over to it. She and the driver exchanged pleasantries, and then the attendant went to work, filling up the car’s gas tank. Once the job was done, the female driver handed her a crisp twenty and drove off. The attendant stretched and went to sit down again. For all intents and purposes, she saw this as just another day at work. Little did she know that this ordinary day was about to get a lot less ordinary.
Laura stood up slowly and elegantly and began circling around to the back of the store. Her soft-heeled boots didn’t make a sound as she crept stealthily around the back of the station and approached the young and beautiful attendant from behind. Laura admired the length of her hair, the size of her uniform, the scent of her perfume, noticeable even above the smell of gasoline.
Laura pulled out a rag and soaked it with the contents of a small bottle. So silent were her actions that the attendant did not even look up. Laura smiled. In high school, she had been mocked by her pretty and popular classmates for her relatively quiet tone of voice and demeanor. Now she was using that demeanor to her advantage.
Laura gave the attendant one final moment to believe that all was right in her world, and then pounced. Her left arm encircled the woman’s waist, trapping her arms, while her right hand went over the woman’s nose and mouth. The attendant’s bright blue eyes widened. She tried to scream or get up, but the cloth muffled her cry of shock and the strength of her attacker’s arm kept her firmly glued to her chair. She tried thrashing back and forth, an action which only served to drain her precious oxygen even further.
Finally, with one last vain attempted struggle, the woman fell back in her chair with a soft, almost sensual sigh. Laura lifted the woman by her trim waist and pulled her off the char, dragging her over to the convenience store. She swiped the ring of keys from the woman’s belt, unlocked the doors, and dragged her burden inside.
Fifteen minutes later, Laura emerged from the convenience store, now dressed in the uniform, cap, and boots of the unfortunate attendant.
The real attendant now lay behind the counter, dressed in only her dark blue bra and panties, bound with nylon rope and gagged with Laura’s panties and duct tape.
Laura locked the door again and walked over to the chair which the real attendant’s shapely posterior had so recently occupied. She sat down, picked up the fashion magazine, and waited.
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Part V of XI
The delivery truck rumbled down the road, passing few houses but many lush greens as it did so, as well as a number of bikers. Clearly, there was a marathon in the area today.
Jenny gripped the steering wheel and kept an eye on the speedometer. The last thing she needed was for a cop to pull her over. After all, the photo of the woman on the driver’s license she had in her pocket was clearly not of her.
Jenny’s clothes itched slightly. She had hoped to mug a woman with a more comfortable wardrobe, but there was nothing to do about it now. She had come this far – and she firmly believed that a reporter should never give up on a story.
Jenny still felt a little bad about what she had done to the delivery truck driver and the construction girl. She didn’t like hurting people, and just saw it as a sometimes unavoidable byproduct of her job. Still, she hoped the two women hadn’t yet been found, and were still firmly bound and gagged in the back of the yellow pickup truck.
Taking her mind off her two unwilling captives, Jenny looked out at the road ahead. She smiled. The mansion of Lady Suzanne Hardwicke was now in full view.
Jenny went over the plan in her mind. She would deliver a package directly to Lady Hardwicke, and while she was there, get an exclusive interview for her paper. She needed this interview – in fact, with the precious few stories she had acquired in the last month, her career was hanging by a thread.
The mansion loomed large up ahead. Jenny pressed her booted heel on the brake pedal. The truck slowed and stopped in front of the large metal gate.
Jenny stepped gingerly out of the truck, package in hand, a clipboard under one arm. She walked over to the gate, which was adorned by two uniformed female guards. The guards gazed at her threateningly as she walked up.
“Special delivery,” she smiled as sweetly as she could. “I’m supposed to deliver this to Lady Hardwicke.”
The blonde guard frowned at her. “No access,” she stated flatly.
Jenny’s face fell. “But… but it’s quite important… I’ll just hand this to her, and – ”
The blonde guard held out a gloved hand. “I’ll take care of it,” she said. “No visitors are allowed on the premises.”
Her brunette friend nodded. “Now be a good little girl and run along home.”
Jenny felt her cheeks turn red. These two security b*tches were both rude and condescending. However, they both also had menacing-looking guns strapped to their belts, and Jenny wasn’t bold enough to start protesting. Instead, she just turned on her heel and walked back to her truck.
“Nice ass, honey,” one of the guards called from behind her with a laugh.
“Oh, Kendra, you’re awful,” said the other, chuckling.
Jenny was quite upset as she stepped back into the delivery truck. She had come this far, and was now being stopped right in her tracks!
But Jenny was no quitter. She had had many setbacks in her career as a reporter, but she always got the story in the end. She couldn’t give up. She just needed a new plan, was all.
Jenny gunned the engine and turned the truck around. As she began driving away, her mind was busy formulating a new plan. She would first need a new set of clothes…
As she turned a corner in the road and drove past a grove of oak trees, Jenny noticed a small but well-kept garage situated by the roadside. She had noticed it on her way over as well, but hadn’t paid it much attention. Until now.
Jenny stopped the truck and parked it by the side of the road. She stepped out and walked silently over to the garage. Her green eyes peered through the window… and liked what they saw.
A sleek black limousine was parked in the garage. Bending over the limo, using a white cloth to polish its hood, was a young woman dressed in a chauffer’s uniform. The uniform consisted of a three-button black jacket over a crisp white shirt with a black tie, a black gold-buckled belt, a knee-length black skirt, elbow-length black leather gloves, nearly black stockings, and polished low-heeled black boots. Her blond hair was tied into a bun, and atop it was a peaked black uniform cap. Dark-rimmed sunglasses adorned her eyes.
The woman was currently bending over, giving Jenny a peek up her skirt at a pair of white bikini panties. Jenny quickly reviewed the woman’s measurements and determined that they were roughly the same size.
The woman’s back was to Jenny as the redhead moved silently into the garage. She did not even look up as Jenny approached, catlike, from behind.
As she was just finishing her work, the chauffer felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned in surprise to see a woman in a delivery uniform standing over her. That was the last thing she saw before a swift neck-chop made her eyes roll and her knees buckle. She fell to the floor in a heap.
Jenny checked to make sure that the woman was not seriously hurt. Then she lifted her by her underarms and dragged her towards the back of the garage.
Jenny laid the woman down near a small, broken radiator and began to methodically remove her uniform. First the jacket was unbuttoned and eased off the blonde’s well-rounded shoulders. Then one of the polished low-heeled black boots was pulled off a shapely thigh and set on the floor, where it was soon joined by the other. The gloves were removed and set aside as well.
Jenny unbuckled the submissive woman’s belt and slid it off her trim waist, then pulled the skirt down and off her legs. Next, she untied the tie and slid it out of the collar. Her hands then moved quickly, unfastening the buttons of the woman’s crisp white shirt. The shirt was opened and removed, allowing Jenny to get a generous glimpse of the woman’s impressive cleavage, adorned with a cream-colored demicup bra.
The woman’s black tights were the last thing to go, pulled down her legs to reveal a cream-colored pair of panties with a decorative bow in the waistline. Jenny stroked the woman’s golden hair.
“Don’t worry, kitten. You can keep the underwear. It’s not really my color, anyway.”
Jenny then glanced around the room, searching for something that would help keep her victim from scampering off. She settled on a coil of rubber hosing which sat on a shelf above some oil drums.
Jenny grasped the young woman’s wrists and began tying them to the radiator. She pulled the rope taut, knowing that it would take the strength of a mule to burst free. Then she crossed the woman’s ankles and tied them together as well. Just for good measure, she tied another rope around the woman’s upper thighs.
Jenny walked over to the limo and picked up the small white cloth from where it had fallen. She returned to her captive and tied the cloth around the woman’s mouth, effectively gagging her. Then she patted the woman on the head.
“It’s nothing personal, dear… I just really need this interview.”
With that, Jenny stood up and began stripping herself of the delivery uniform. Once she was down to her underwear, she reached for the chauffer’s uniform. Jenny slid into the woman’s warm tights, pulled on the shirt and skirt, and fastened the belt. She buttoned up the jacket, pulled on the gloves, and eased her feet into the boots. Finally, she put on the sunglasses and placed the peaked black uniform cap on her head.
Jenny checked her reflection in the sideview mirror of the limousine. She seemed to look the part – now it was just a matter of playing it. Hopefully, Mrs. Hardwicke wouldn’t get too suspicious of the fact that her chauffer was now a redhead instead of a blonde.
******************
Natasha walked slowly and elegantly down the mansion stairwell. She admired the beauty of the craftsmanship. Such a handsome building, she thought. And she planned to live in it.
A young maid stood at the foot of the stairs, cleaning the banister with a feather duster. Natasha eyed the woman with admiration. She was not quite as beautiful as the maidservant she had mugged earlier, who was now safely locked away in the upstairs closet. Still, this maid had a sense of attractiveness about her.
The dark-haired maid looked up. “Oh! Good day, ma’am.” She stopped her work and did a brief curtsy. “Have you plans to go out now?”
Natasha smiled broadly beneath her pink hat and dark sunglasses. So far, her disguise was working perfectly. “Yes, dear. Please be a darling and ring up my chauffer, would you?”
Her voice was an exact duplicate of the real Suzanne’s. The maid nodded, and walked daintily over to a nearby phone. She dialed a set of numbers and spoke in a professional tone. “Please send the car around to pick up Lady Hardwicke. Yes. Thank you.” She hung up the phone.
Natasha walked over to her. “Thank you, dear,” she said with a broad smile. “You are truly a valued employee.” She leaned over and gave the young woman a brief kiss on the cheek.
The girl blushed, and watched as the woman she thought to be her boss walked off.
Natasha stepped out of the house just as a sleek black limousine pulled up in the front. An attractive chauffer stepped out and walked over to the back door. She held the door open for Natasha, who smiled broadly at the redhead. She sat down on the Corinthian leather seat, and leaned back. The chauffer got in the front seat and gripped the wheel with gloved hands.
“Where to, ma’am?” she inquired.
“The bank, sweetheart,” Natasha replied. “I’m going to make a withdrawal.”
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Part VI of XI
The limo purred like a well-fed kitten as it drove along the lonely road which led to the town square. Trees and shrubbery passed by the windows, but there was hardly a building in sight.
Jenny kept her eyes on the road, only occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror at the woman behind her. After keeping silent for about ten minutes, she decided it was time to strike up a conversation. The more juicy details she could pick up about Suzanne Hardwicke’s life, the better.
“That’s a lovely dress, ma’am,” she said.
The woman she addressed looked up with a bright smile. “Thank you, darling,” she replied.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Jenny continued, “where did you get it?”
“Oh,” the woman seemed to think for a moment. “I… I buy so many dresses that I can hardly remember which one is from where.”
Jenny nodded. “I can imagine,” she said. “From the way Madam dresses, no one would ever mistake her for poor.”
The well-dressed woman behind her laughed. “True, dearie.”
Jenny paused. “It’s a wonder to me how anyone could make so much money,” she began.
The lady shrugged. “I suppose some of us are just lucky,” she said.
Jenny frowned. Lady Hardwicke was avoiding her questions. She had thought her disguise would establish a level of trust between the two, but it seemed she had been mistaken. But Jenny was determined to get the inside scoop on Suzanne Hardwicke at any cost… even if she would have to tie her up and force the information out of her with a leather belt.
“Ma’am,” she began again, “just what’s the story behind that wonderful mansion of yours?”
Natasha frowned. Was Hardwicke’s chauffer always this inquisitive? If she started answering questions, chances were she would slip up somewhere. Instead, she chose the more direct approach.
“Just drive, sweetheart,” she snapped, and pressed the button on her sill, causing the glass partition to rise up between the driver and passenger seats.
Jenny sighed to herself. Already she was picturing Suzanne Hardwicke on her knees, bound, gagged, and naked, moaning pleadingly as Jenny delivered a swift bit of encouragement to her buttocks.
Jenny’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight on the road ahead. A gas station was situated near a small convenience store and a large neon sign which listed prices. A woman in a green attendant’s uniform waved at the limo from the roadside. Jenny hesitated, wondering if she should stop, when a glance toward the gas meter told her the car needed refueling.
Jenny eased her foot slowly from the pedal, thankful that her stolen low-heeled boots made driving a comfort. The car ground to a halt in front of the station.
Jenny rolled down the tinted window as the attendant walked over. The woman bent down and peered into the window. “Hi, there,” she smiled. “Taking Lady Hardwicke out for another ride, are you?”
Jenny nodded with a smile, glad that her disguise was still holding up quite well. Clearly, this attendant was familiar with Lady Hardwicke and her daily routines.
The partition between the seats slid open. Natasha peered out. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice a perfect replica of the real Suzanne.
The attendant tipped her hat at the well-dressed woman and smiled. “Good day, ma’am. My boss wanted to express our gratitude for your always choosing our gas station for your limousine. So today, we’ve decided to give you a fill-up absolutely free.”
The blonde socialite was silent for a moment, then nodded with a smile. “Very well, carry on.”
The station attendant’s lips curled into a wicked grin as she pulled out a small gun from behind her back. She pointed it at the chauffer’s chest and squeezed the trigger. Then, before her passenger could react, the attendant fired another dart into her neck.
Both women in the car slumped back in their seats, out cold. The tranquilizer would ensure they would both stay unconscious for hours. Laura pulled off her green baseball cap and shook her brown hair loose. Then she turned and whistled towards some nearby bushes.
From out of the bushes rose a young woman, clad only in white bra and panties. Her face and measurements were an exact double of the real Suzanne Hardwicke. The woman padded slowly and elegantly across the road toward the gas station. She reached the limo and peered inside.
Grinning, she turned to Laura. “Good work. Now let’s get them out of the car… and out of those clothes.”
The doors to the limousine were unlocked, and the two women inside were pulled out and dragged toward the convenience store. Laura unlocked the door, and they stepped inside.
The two unconscious women were laid onto the floor, while Laura and her friend began stripping them of their garments. Before very long, the two victims were down to their underwear. Laura was busy squirming her fit body into the chauffer’s uniform, while her friend was in the process of donning Suzanne Hardwicke’s clothes.
Once both imposters were fully dressed, Laura walked over to one of the shelves of the convenience store. She selected a roll of thick grey duct tape and a length of rubber-coated flex. She returned to the two lovely forms on the floor. She and her friend then set about binding and gagging the ladies they had just seen fit to replace.
Minutes later, Laura stood up and brushed off her stolen skirt. The two women were now the perfect picture of helplessness, bound hand and foot with flex and gagged with several strips of tape.
Laura and her accomplice each grabbed a pair of bound ankles and dragged the women behind the counter. There lay the gas station attendant whom Laura had replaced. She was still unconscious, and so did not make any protest as two women, bound and gagged just as thoroughly as she was, were laid on either side of her.
Laura and her co-conspirator smiled at one another. They locked arms and headed outside for the limousine. Laura let her friend, the exact duplicate of Lady Suzanne Hardwicke, into the back seat, while she clambered behind the wheel. She pressed her boot against the gas pedal, and they were off.
********************
Natasha could feel pain. At this moment, she was aware that her arms were pulled behind her back, and her hands and feet were a little numb. Natasha also felt a coldness washing over her front, although she felt warmth coming from her right.
Natasha opened one of her eyes a crack. The hazy world slowly began coming back into focus. She began to regain control of her senses. The first thing she noted was that she was lying facedown on a cold tiled floor. She was also wearing nothing except the white full-cup bra and sheer ivory bikini panties she had stolen from Suzanne Hardwicke earlier. She tried to move her wrists, without any luck. Natasha cursed her predicament, but even that was muffled by the tape which covered her mouth.
The sound of soft breathing alerted her. She craned her long neck and noticed two unconscious women in the exact same position as her. One was her limo driver, while the other was a woman she was unfamiliar with.
Natasha assessed the situation. The last thing she remembered the gas station attendant pulling out a gun. Yes… Cleary, the b*tch had tranquilized her and her driver, and stolen their uniforms! Natasha felt her cheeks turn red. How humiliating it felt, to be stripped of her clothing and be painfully tied up. She realized the irony, as she had done the same thing to three other women earlier that day.
But now was not the time to dwell on the past. Natasha had to get herself free. She tried pulling at the bonds which held her wrists, but to no avail. The slu*t who had bound her had certainly done a fine job.
Natasha thought for a few moments. She turned to the unknown woman who was lying on the floor next to her. A plan formulated inside Natasha’s mind. It was a bit of a long shot, but it was her only hope.
Slowly, Natasha began rocking her body back and forth. Once she had worked up a sustained rhythm, she summoned up her strength and twisted her body, rolling over onto her blonde companion. Her body was lined up perfectly with that of the other woman’s, with their pert panty-clad backsides touching one another.
Natasha flexed her body, and grabbed hold of the woman’s hands. With her remaining strength, she pulled hard to the right. Now both women were lying on their sides, still facing away from each other. Natasha allowed herself a few moments’ rest from her Amazonian feats, and then grabbed the woman’s wrist-bonds.
Although Natasha couldn’t see what she was doing, she was familiar with almost all kinds of knots. She could tie them quit well, and could untie them almost as easily. It took several sweaty minutes to unclinch the center knot, but before long, the ropes holding the woman’s wrists fell away to the floor. Natasha breathed a sigh of relief.
By this point, the woman had begun to stir. Slowly, she opened her eyes. These eyes darted around in confusion and fear. She stared in shock at the two bound and gagged women lying next to her.
Her fingers brushed against her cheek, which was still covered with a strip of tape. However, with her hands now unrestrained, it was now no problem to remove it. She then reached into her mouth and removed the panties which had gagged her.
“Oh, my god,” she said. “What kind of sick, twisted…”
Natasha moaned through her gag.
“Hold on, honey. I’ll have you free in a minute,” the girl replied. She reached for Natasha’s ropes. By this point, Jenny was also coming to.
Natasha could feel her strength returning to her. Already she was beginning to formulate a new plan. Of course, she reasoned, she would first need a new set of clothes…
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