The Box

THE BOX

CHAPTER EIGHT

If the others had problems, then how did Linda Hutton feel when she was talking to "herself"? Or vice versa?

Odd would probably be the best way to describe it. Their eye and hair colour were different and their noses had been altered. Lady Heather had fallen from a horse when she was young and Linda, well, Linda had simply had hers broken a long time ago.

They stood now in the hotel car park on a wet night in October with the wind whipping around them.

"You know, all Sarah can do is look at you look at you and say "two peas out of the same pod" and shake her head!"

"I know, I caught her staring at me in the elevator, I swear she was looking at my roots! And I get emails from people who've come across your web site and say "Hey! What happened to Bishop – you finally dump him?"

Linda's face changed,

"How is he?"

Lady Heather smiled.

"He still talks about you sometimes and I don't ask," Linda smiled, "but he's fine! Doctor says he's got a slight heart murmur, nothing desperate and I've cut him down to five cigars a day…"

"Does he listen?"

"Most of the time. There's only one Master in our house you know…" And she smiled briefly and then her face changed, "Linda is this gonna work? Only I have this feeling that we could fall flat on our…"

"…arses?"

"Uh huh."

"Dunno! No feelings either way."

"That producer's pretty pissed with you, what DID you do to her?"

Linda smiled, looked past Lady Heather and saw The Bishop and Sarah pushing a wheelchair between them.

"I'll tell ya later, when she's a bit happier, I'm sharing a car with her, don't forget," She touched Lady Heather lightly on the shoulder, "Like the outfit! Take it steady and we'll be fine, see ya soon!"

*

The Bishop was in full flow as He and Sarah guided the wheelchair and its hapless occupant across the wet tarmac.

"See Sarah, this is the Bishop, "Helpless Chick Transporter Mark 3". There have been others but none that keep the little cutie quite so "nailed down" as this one. And..." Here he looked at Sarah with more than a twinkle in his eye, "It doesn't work with only the younger "Damsels in Distress" either, it is also very effective with the More Mature Lady…"

Sarah's faced creased into a huge smile and she slapped his hand.

"No Bishop! You're not getting me in that thing, not even for a test run!"

The Bishop looked crestfallen,

"Not even if Linda's around to protect you from the likes of me?"

"Especially not if Linda's around, " She said wryly and then as an afterthought, as she slowly shook her head, "Linda and a bondage wheelchair… it doesn't even bear thinking about!"

*

Well, her mouth was free for the first time in a while but the rest of her wasn't. She felt like she was in a warm cocoon, a warm and comfortable cocoon and she wasn't alone either. She felt a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi sleepy head,"

And a hand over her mouth.

Angela.

A dressed Angela, well, jeans and blouse, barefoot, hair ruffled and barely dry, but dressed all the same Angela.

Finger to her lips.

"Shush!"

Hand away from mouth.

Ally interpreted this as "permission to speak, but do it quietly."

She did.

"What time is it?

"Oh, ten after eight."

"Have you been here all the time?"

"Uh huh. The Bishop told me to look after you and that's what I'm doing!" Suddenly Angela eased herself against her and took her in her arms, "Am I doing okay?"

In the face of such studied naiveté Ally could only smile.

"Why can't I move and why are we whispering?" She asked weakly.

Angela checked the items off on the fingers of one hand.

"We're whispering because, ONE: You're not supposed to be here and TWO; there is one HECK of a row going on outside, which, THREE: you're partly responsible for!" She paused for a moment, "But then so are Lady Heather and Niles as well!" Ally let this sink in.

She remembered the frantic flight up the stairs. She remembered being dragged into the suite. She remembered the curious or not so curious gazes of a lot of people who seemed to have nothing better to do than drink coffee and then she remembered the shower and….and …and now they were in a very comfortable bed in a darkened bedroom and they were whispering and she couldn't move. She tried to look down at herself but she couldn't even do that.

Angela giggled and stroked her tummy.

"You're in Bishop's Bondage Bag. He made one for Lady Heather, a BIG one and he made one for me for a shoot." She cuddled closer to Ally.

"I suppose it would be a fair bet that I'm naked under this?" She said

"Oh yeah!" Angela giggled and hugged her closer, " And I got some nail polish remover and cleaned your fingers and toenails, "Bishop says you've got a lot more to come off, but he didn't explain!"

He had explained it to Ally though, on the first evening that they met.

"No! I don't suppose he did." She smiled ruefully and then beamed her best winning smile at Angela, "So what exactly is this "Bondage Bag?"."

Angela was still holding her. In fact Angela now had both her hands resting on Ally's bottom – a very sensitive and erotic spot for her.

"Well, it's like a sleeping bag but the outside is black PVC so it looks good and the inside is so, so, soft and comfortable, but it's got sleeves. Sleeves that we zip your arms and legs into so that you can't move them and mittens for your little fingers so that you can't get yourself out. Then we just zip the whole thing up and zip that big collar all around your neck so you can't move your head much and that's it, apart from the straps, I mean they go around your whole body but I didn't think we'd need those…"

"So that's it?"

As if that wasn't enough!

"Yeah. That's it….Although…"

Ally was somehow expecting this. Bishop was a man who seemed to think in afterthoughts. Nothing was ever straightforward with him. There was always a trick in the tail.

Ally banged her head against the soft, luxurious pillow.

"Go on…" She said resignedly,

"Well, it's only the inserts…"

Ally rolled her eyes heavenward.

"What …inserts?" She said slowly

"Oh you know, the usual ones. The ones that go in your pussy and …"

But Ally had been doing a random audit of her body parts.

"There's no inserts in my pussy and there definitely isn't one in…"

Angela rolled on top of her and in her hand was a small plastic box with a long lead attached to it.

"No silly!" She kissed her on the cheek "We didn't have time for them. But we DID have time for this. In fact I just made sure they were stuck on properly…" A random thought had Ally wondering if Angela had ever been allowed to drive a vehicle but she ignored it.

"You made sure WHAT was stuck on properly?"

Angela grinned coquettishly.

"Oh, now that would be telling and besides you'll find out when I've done this." It wasn't exactly with horror that Ally looked down as best she could and saw Angela unzipping her jeans. She tended to take it as a complement these days and she guessed that her tongue piercing helped. But she was more than a little shocked when she saw what Angela was really doing.

"You were so good in the shower," She pouted, "So, so, good. So, so, helpless. And I told you that I'm a bit of a control freak and you made me so wet, 'cos you look kinda weird, but you're cute and even now I'm really wet just thinking about it! So I didn't put my panties back on exactly – I've just had them against my pussy and they've been soaking up everything that's been running out…" So husky, so breathy, so downright dirty and absolutely unbelievable that Ally almost shook her head. But the closeness of her. The sheer physical closeness and the fact that she had to be telling the truth was sending shivers like mild electric shocks through Ally's body. If only she had known.

"So now," If it were at all possible, Angela's voice was even huskier and breathier than before, "Now that I've got you just how I want you…" Her right hand was moving down between her legs again, "I can take these…" Her hand was now visible again and it was holding a pair of silky, black, lace edged, panties. Panties that even in the dim light looked somehow glistening, somehow wet. "… and I just know that you're going to open up for me aren't you?"

And the terrible thing was that she did. Without any further asking or cajoling, Ally automatically opened up her mouth and engulfed the warm ripe panties as they were pushed gently inside.

At once she bit down on them. As if she were biting into a steak. As if she were hungry for them and as her lips closed so Angela very obligingly sealed them with some thick, grey and very, very sticky duct tape that she had been concealing under her pillow.

One strip straight across and then Angela's hand was on top of it. Warming it. Sealing it in place. Comforting. Exciting. Ally's eyes bulged. Not through fear or terror but just from the sheer excitement of it all.

Angela. Dear cute little Angela. Named after an angel. Angela was in control. Total control.

That little girl voice and those arch mannerisms were just her camouflage. Angela was clever. And Angela really did like to be in control. Perhaps not all the time. Perhaps only with her own sex. But she did. She really did.

A ripping noise.

Another piece of tape. Diagonally this time. And the hand again. That warm comforting hand. She could lay there all night with that hand over her mouth. And then it was gone

Ally could hear her humming a little tune as she tore off the third piece and placed it gently and diagonally again over the second and this time her hand stayed there a lot longer. Moulding and firming. And then a voice whispered.

"You like that don't you?" Automatically Ally nodded, "I know! So do I. It feels so good! You feel so…controlled." Very slowly Angela took her hand away and then she whispered into Ally's ear.

"Now I'm going to control you just a little bit more!" She pressed a button on the remote control in her hand. Ally felt it straight away. A strange feeling. A feeling that she was no longer in control of her body.

That parts of her were going into spasm.

She began to panic but she looked at Angela and into her deep green eyes. There was concern there. Excitement too but concern as well. Ally forced herself to believe that this was no psychopath and then she remembered The Bishop and the argument that had apparently been going on outside and she remembered Linda and Lady Heather and Sarah…

There was a hand against her cheek.

"Hey! Hey! You're sweating. Don't be frightened baby! Don't be frightened! You know those Abs Belts that tone up your muscles while your sitting down? Well that's all this is really. But I've stuck the pads on that cute little ass of yours and all it does is send a pulse into your muscles", She pressed the remote again, "See? Feels really weird doesn't it.

And this time Ally was able to relax a little as she felt her basic motor functions being overridden, and how strange it felt as her backside began to wobble like jello and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Slowly, very slowly, the feelings and the vibration began to spread. Began to spread to the front of her body. And she could almost feel the pulses transmitting themselves through the rings of her pierced labia.

What had Anglea said earlier? She had her just where she wanted her? Well as she closed her eyes and began to moan softly and she felt Angela's cool hand on her forehead, she knew right then that Angela was right.

*

It was going to be a cold night and an even colder morning. Already frost was beginning to form on the cars in the almost deserted car park. Collar up against the cold, hands in pockets, Linda hurried toward the small, metallic silver vehicle with it's engine running, pumping out steam into the cold air from its exhaust, security lights clicking into life and illuminating her path as she made her way steadily towards it

She ducked down to identify the driver who leaned across to swing the offside door open and eased herself inside. The seat had been set as far back as it would go as if the driver had prepared it for her. She had half expected it to be pushed all the way forward however, unsurprisingly; the atmosphere inside the car was far, far, frostier than it could possibly be outside.

"Well?"

Linda resisted the urge to say, "Yes thanks!"

Liz was without a topcoat but she had a scarf round her neck and sheepskin mittens on her hands.

"You gonna drive all right with them on?" It was said with the intention of needling her more than anything else.

It succeeded.

"Yes thank you." Was the cool reply. "No worse than I will with this fucking monstrosity I've got locked on to me and this, this THING that's currently invading my, my…"

"You called it your cunt earlier on." Said Linda amiably. If she had had any, then a vein would definitely have stood out on Liz's forehead.

"Right now, " She said, staring hard at Linda, "I'm inclined to think that the only CUNT in here is YOU!"

"Oh!" Said Linda mildly, "So you won't be interested in this then". She was holding something in a well-manicured hand. A hand whose nails had not been bitten for many years, unlike Liz's.

"What is it?" She said disdainfully, regarding the slim silver object as if it were some kind of rodent dropping.

"Oh just something that keeps Sarah amused when she's locked up!" Linda flicked the top as if it were a cigarette lighter and the results were instantaneous.

Liz's stomach contracted. She drew a sharp breath and her eyes closed for a second. She opened and then closed her legs and she clutched at the steering wheel.

"What's the matter?" Enquired Linda innocently, "Indigestion? Or is it wind? You know," She said, more to herself than to anyone else, "Sometimes there's nothing better than a good fart! Open yer shirt, undo yer jeans, and just let rip!"

Liz was beyond listening.

The thing inside her was beginning to vibrate. Was it a vibration? It seemed, somehow, to be more of a sound than a feeling. An ululation welling up inside her. Like the cry of some kind of demented Banshee desperate to get out. But she wasn't desperate to lose this feeling. The only problem was sharing it.

If she could be at home right now in her comfortable flat overlooking the Thames, if she could be curled up that in big comfortable bed with the silky satin sheets, the ones she saved for her days off, in those soft raw silk pyjamas, freshly bathed and smelling of soap and bath oil, her legs shaved and fresh sliding against one another, fingers and toenails painted some exotic colour with this gently but persistent feeling whirring softly away between her legs and spreading out through her stomach….

But she wasn't.

She was sitting in a car with, with, HER!

"Turn it off!"

"Excuse me?"

"Turn it off! What's the matter don't you understand English any more?" The whole of Liz's abdomen seemed to go into spasm as Linda turned up the power. Not a painful spasm by any means. But the most blindingly beautiful, soothing and exhilarating spasm she had ever experienced. "Stop being a cunt and turn it off for Chrissake!"

Linda looked at her through the rear view mirror.

"What's the matter? Don't you like it?"

Liz fought back the urge to moan. She also had a very strange desire right then and there. She wanted to kiss Linda. There was so much affection and love being whipped up inside her body that she needed an outlet. Someone to transfer it on to. Linda would not, under normal circumstances, be her first choice, but she was nearest.

She was starting to double up under the strain. She gripped the steering wheel as hard as she could and said something that she definitely didn't mean.

"Turn this fucking thing off bitch or so help me…!"

Later she would know why she said and it WAS to provoke and she DID get the reaction that she wanted.

Slowly, very slowly, Liz started to raise her hands off the steering wheel and then one shot forward to try to snatch the silver control from Linda's grasp but, not surprisingly, Linda was too quick for her. In one swift movement she had dropped the control into her pocket, had picked her bag up from the floor and was already fastening the ubiquitous pair of handcuffs onto Liz's wrists.

Even though she was being twisted in her seat and having her arms wrenched behind her back Liz was in no mood to struggle, but she did manage to shake her head in despair.

"I don't believe you, woman! Everyone else carries lipstick and tampons in their bag – you've got half a fucking dungeon in yours!"

Satisfied that she was secure Linda pushed her, a little roughly and deliberately so, into her seat. She now took the ball gag out of her bag and waved it slowly in front of Liz.

"Now, do I have to use this?"

Liz shook her head.

"No! No you don't. We're out in the bloody street! Someone will see us. Think I'm being kidnapped and then what happens? It'll look good when I'm searched like this won't it? Aaaaaaaaah. Oh God! Either turn the fucker down or finish me off and I don't care if George W Bush himself is watching."

Linda smiled and there was more than a little triumph in her expression

"So we finally got there! Liz looked petulant.

"Where?"

"To you admitting something. Remember what the man used to say in those adverts? - "It's good to talk.""

"I worked on them when I was just starting out. He reminds me of you actually; only I'd say that of the two, you were probably the more masculine! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh! Oh you bitch! You fucking rotten bitch… I really thought I was going to then!"

Despite the coldness of the night Liz was sweating.

Linda leaned over until Liz could feel her warm minty breath against her cheek.

"Listen to me Lizzie," She said quietly; "You won't get anything until you talk to me nicely. Until you ASK me for things. Like permission to come. Do you understand?"

Liz's spine tingled. It felt as if a million ants were crawling all over her body. As if her hair was trying to rise up off the top of her head. She stared at Linda not in disbelief but in sheer wonder. And then suddenly all her feeling, all those nerve endings that had been on high alert, pitched drastically downward.

Off.

She had turned it off. The tingling still remained but she had turned it off. Liz didn't know whether to laugh or cry and then someone tapped on the car window.

*

"Angela must you take everything I say quite so literally?" The Bishop stood in the bedroom framed in the light from the main suite.

Angela did her best to look innocent.

"But you told me to look after her!" Phil Bishop sighed.

"I know what I said and so do you and the Marilyn Monroe impression will NOT work with me every time young lady, I must say though, that our cutie does look rather…CUTE?"

Lady Heather bustled in still in her night attire.

"Poor thing she's been tied up half the evening…"

"Well she's going to be tied up a lot longer than that," The Bishop drew a sharp breath, "That's if she still wants to of course…"

Lady Heather smiled,

"Well perhaps we'd better not untie her all the way then!" She partially unzipped the bag and reached her hand inside, "I'll just take off these pads, now just hold still sweetie, this is going to tickle a bit!" Still helpless, still gagged, Ally writhed under Lady Heather's knowing fingers. Seeing how sensitive her subject was, a mischievous smile crossed Heather's face.

"Angela is there any chance you can order us some tea from room service? Bish, I'm just going to make Allison a little more comfortable while you get your gear ready, is that okay?"

The Bishop nodded his head slowly,

"I must warn you of just one thing," He said eyeing his wife's bottom as she bent over to minister to Ally."All this business is giving me a…"

"Tremendous hard on?" Asked Lady Heather, " Well you can wait. You're a gentleman Bish. Always were, always will be and I know you, it'll still be there later!"

He had to virtually drag Angela out of the room but the Bishop smiled and winked hugely at Lady Heather as she turned the helpless Ally over with only the suspicion of a whimper and began to rummage inside the Bondage Bag.

*

Liz turned to look out the window and muttered "Oh No!" under her breath. She was looking into the bright smiling face of Sarah. Sarah who had changed into a nurse's uniform, her own, and who had a cardigan pulled over her shoulders to keep off the wind. She made a winding signal with her hand. Linda had to lean across and let down the window.

"Aren't you going to let me in, it's cold out here? " She noticed Liz's awkward posture and then the handcuffs. "Blimey! Doesn't take you long does it?" Her eyes narrowed and she leaned in and pointed a finger at Linda. "Now listen to me, you. You can do what we discussed but no more, okay? Any hanky panky and Allison won't be the only one getting an enema tonight. Do you understand?" Linda looked smug and Liz looked uncomfortable. Sarah puffed out her chest. "And if anybody, particularly you Missy," She pointed at Linda again, "Tells me to stick my enema up my arse there will be trouble!" She looked at both of them for signs of a reaction but there was none, so she tugged at her cardigan and stalked off back to the private ambulance that stood, dark and silent, just across the car park from Liz's car.

*

"OWW!"

It's always very easy to tape over someone's mouth. It's never quite so easy to take it off. Ally had eventually been extracted from the bondage bag and was now sitting naked, apart from a green hospital type gown, on a chair in the bedroom. The curtains had been drawn and all the lights were on. For the last ten minutes or so she had been treated to the more than edifying sight of both Lady Heather and Angela changing from out of their respective clothes and into medical gear.

Lady Heather was now dressed in the green and yellow coveralls of a paramedic whilst Angela seemed to take forever to change into an English student nurse costume complete with black stockings and suspenders. It was only when clothes had been adjusted and hair brushed that they suddenly remembered Ally.

Lady Heather looked at her, the thick wad of tape still dangling from her fingers.

"Sorry Ally, but it's best to pull it off fast. Angela's going to swab your lips just to get rid of any sticky stuff. Would you like a drink? There's coke in the minibar."

Ally nodded reflexively. Three hours without speech. Three hours of nodding and shaking her head had taken their toll. She nodded again, then shook her head and then finally said,

"I mean yeah, I'd love a drink and coke'll be great, but why do I have to stay handcuffed?" Lady Heather HAD made one concession once she had unzipped her from the bag, tidied her up and put the gown on her.

She had let her put her hands in front of her and before cuffing them back together again.

"Ah well, there's a very simple reason for that my dear!" It was the Bishop, pushing a lightweight aluminium wheelchair in front of him. A wheelchair that was covered, rather ominously, Ally thought, by a large green hospital blanket. He stopped the wheelchair just in front of her and then knelt down at her feet.

"You see, you're going to be our little rubber sex slave aren't you? And we wouldn't want you to get the idea that you can just wander out of here at any time now, would we?" Ally sighed, "And anyway," Said the Bishop brightly," Any idea of freedom that you may have had is now officially over!" He stood up and with a flourish, pulled the blanket away from the wheelchair.

Ally goggled.

"What the fuck….?"

"You know something darling?" Said The Bishop to his wife, the paramedic, "I knew we shouldn't have taken that gag off of her yet!"

TO BE CONTINUED

© Wallace 2003. The writer wishes to be acknowledged as the author of this piece. This story is a work of fiction and bears no resemblance to any events or places, real or imaginary, or to any people living or dead.