KITTEN

by

Brian Sands

assisted by

Cordelia White

D'Artagnan's Daughter, HtF: Mignon Marceau meets Mistress Alice

Chapter Three: Meg’s Country Retreat

‘All clear,’ replied a cheery voice.

‘Excellent. Help me secure our two beauties in the car, Joan dear, then go up to their apartment and bring down the two packed valises you’ll find in their bedroom.’

‘But, Alice darling, they won’t be needing clothes!’

‘Quite right. But I’m curious to know whether dear Meg’s tastes in exotic finery have changed since the years I knew her, and this pretty silky one here has my full interest.’

There was a pause that Mignon found a trifle ominous under the circumstances. Then Cousin Alice spoke again.

‘I'm sure her underwear will be worth appreciating.’

That’s me she’s talking about, thought Mignon aghast.

‘We’ll dispose of anything untoward. Sensible shoes, echt! Unnecessary outer garments! Perhaps we’ll have them model each other’s lingerie.’

‘A sort of cross-dressing?’

‘What a droll idea! Where do you get those thoughts, Joan Darling? ... Hmm, the smaller one will look somewhat ridiculous in her friend’s bra. That won’t do. She’s neat and elegant. We can’t do something like that to her.’

There was another pause.

‘You know they can hear every word we’re saying,’ added Cousin Alice. ‘Anyway, I have some special gear. But if we want to embarrass them there’s nothing better than having them model their own underwear.’

Mignon was beginning to wonder whether this was some sort of elaborate real kidnap scheme that she and Meg had been seduced into by two fashion freaks. It was not impossible. While she was not wealthy, her bank balance was in a healthy state from her last book. It was a romantic blockbuster-cum-melodrama that had been adapted into a comic strip and published as a bande dessinee in Paris, to be then re-adapted into a play that was receiving rave reviews in Paris and now London.

Certain liberties had been taken with each adaptation, but Mignon had approved of them because, (a) some scenes she felt were better than her original, and (b) the royalties were generous. And she was meeting interesting people, the Comte with the monocle for instance, or that fellow who played the role of James the butler. Her flesh went all goose bumpy at the mere thought. She was ever faithful to Meg, but she suspected that to be bound and gagged by one of those men would be quite an experience.

She knew that Meg was well off after inheriting a fortune from a wealthy aunt. Mignon had in fact used that circumstance as the basis for her novel. It was one element that had not changed through the adaptations: a would-be heiress in jeopardy from others wishing to have her riches for themselves, one by forging their own name on the Will and the other by kidnapping the heiress and holding her for ransom.

The latter might be happening at that very moment as Mignon felt herself being hustled quickly into the car, a hand placed on her head to protect her from striking it against the roof as she climbed in. Meg stumbled against her on her left. She caught the scent of her friend’s perfume. They were sitting side by side on what must be the back seat of the car. At least we’re not squeezed into the boot, she thought thankfully.

Mignon felt the hobbles removed, and her ankles were placed side by side then tied together. Hands that felt gentle but firm hoisted the folds of her dress up and more rope was used to tie her knees. The seat belt was pulled over her chest and fastened in place, trapping her arms against the back seat. A grunt from next to her suggested that Meg was being secured in the same way.

'The car has tinted glass at the rear and side windows, and anyway it’s dark now. So don’t worry your pretty heads about anyone noticing two bound and gagged damsels,’ Cousin Alice announced firmly.

The vehicle rocked slightly as one of their captors climbed into a front seat. It was Alice.

‘We’ll soon be on our way, the moment my friend Joan returns with the bags.’

‘Mmmph?’ It was Meg.

‘Didn’t tell you about her, did I? Or the special plans I have for you. You’ve given me such an opportunity.’

‘Mm mmph?’ It was Mignon this time who attempted unsuccessfully to ask a question through her gag.

‘Oh yes, pretty one. I’m sure your mentor has made all arrangements so that neither of you will be missed for several days. That’s enough time for us to persuade you to empty your bank accounts into my name. I’ve followed your career with interest Miss Mignon. Does this scenario seem familiar? It should. It comes from one of your novellas ... Ahh, here she is now. Joan will stow your bags into the boot. Side by side like their owners. But perhaps we should reverse the arrangement?’

‘Mmm mm!’

‘Mmmm mmph!’

‘No. I can see how undesirable that would be from your point of view. The boot is clean and large but your fine clothes would be dirtied all the same. It is after all a car boot, not quite a clean closet for instance.’

Mignon felt the car rock as the lid of the boot was closed with a dull thump.

‘And it would be a real shame for that exquisite silk dress you’re wearing to be creased or marked in any way.’

The car rocked slightly as the other woman climbed in. Mignon thought that Joan was on the driver’s side.

‘Um, before we start off,’ said Mistress Alice thoughtfully, ‘Joan dear, do you have the mufflers I asked you to bring?’

‘They’re here, Mistress.’

‘Good. I’ll put one on our pretty one and you do lovely Meg for me.’

What on earth ...? thought Mignon. But she knew quickly enough. She felt the car move as the two women in front exited. The door on her side opened, and Mignon felt something being fitted over her face. It was a half mask of some sort. It felt as though it was made from soft leather, kid perhaps. Mignon tried to turn her head away as it tightened over her mouth and jaw.

‘Shh shh, pretty one,’ said Alice in her ear. ‘This is a simple mask to strap up your mouth and jaw tightly and make sure that you don’t slip your gag on our long journey. It will also compact the gag firmly in your mouth and reduce any sound to a minimum. There.’

Mignon thought the gauze pad tied in her mouth by the scarf bandage was tight enough, but the broad leather now sealed her even tighter. When she felt Meg struggling beside her, Mignon experienced a wave of fear. The situation was really serious if Meg did not like it either. Oh god, we are being kidnapped, she thought distractedly.

The car’s movement on its chassis reflected the two kidnapper’s return to their front seats. The motor sprang into life and Mignon felt as though she was drifting. Whatever make of car it was, it must be one of those expensive luxury jobs, a Mercedes perhaps or a Saab. Mignon tried convulsively to free her bound hands, but all she achieved was a sharp streak of pain from the thin leather thongs.

She quickly became still, breathing hard, fighting back hysteria. Mignon remembered the advice they followed when doing the escapology experiment, and the time earlier when two ruffians kidnapped them at Meg’s beachside cabin. Relax and rest. Watch for a chance to help each other get free. At the beginning there’s nothing that can be done if I’m bound, gagged, blindfolded and the kidnappers are still there. But they will leave us, perhaps bound in a cellar or a spare room, and then we can do something to get out of this together.

'Sit down,' Alice commanded.

Mignon sat. Walking had not been easy wearing a blindfold and with her ankles hobbled together.

The long ride in the car would have been almost soothing if it was not for the fact that she was painfully bound at the wrists, blindfolded and most efficiently gagged. From time to time she felt Meg’s shoulder touch hers. But when Meg began to turn her back towards Mignon so that their fingers could meet, Cousin Alice instantly put a stop to it, threatening to separate them by packing Mignon, the smaller woman, into the boot with the suitcases. From then on, they travelled in silence, each woman more or less alone with her own thoughts.

Mignon settled back to wait out the first steps of their kidnapping. She bit down on the roll of gauze between her teeth. It could not be moved against the silk bandage and the tight leather half mask. She had a faint taste of her own lipstick. The layers that covered and bound her face would have erased most traces of the light make-up she had started out wearing.

At last the vehicle rocked to a stop. Mignon and Meg’s ankles and knees were untied and the hobbled relaced. Then they were helped out onto the rough ground of a dirt track, and from there they were forced to walk what felt like a hundred metres or more. Now they were in what Mignon guessed was one of the rooms in Meg’s capacious rural retreat.

They were sitting side by side on what Mignon guessed rightly was the sofa in Meg’s country living room. She could feel Meg’s body close to hers. At first nothing filtered through the thick blindfold covering her ears but the faint sounds of Mistress Alice and Joan her aide walking about the room. Heels clicked on what could have been kitchen parqueting, one stolid and heavy - probably Joan - the other reflecting a lighter and less businesslike pair of heels to go with their wearer Alice the dominatrix.

Then Mignon felt the rope tethers being unfastened from her ankles. When they were free, she stretched her legs, rotated her ankles from side to side, and wriggled her toes in the shoes to relieve cramp. She gave a start when a hand descended on one ankle and held it still. Cousin Alice or the other woman? Whoever it was busied herself by binding Mignon’s ankles once again. This time they were crossed and tied with soft cord, cinched between by a loop that was drawn tight, and made even more immobile by additional loops around her insteps and the heels of both shoes. Mignon recognised the tie from illustrations in some of Meg’s bondage manuals. They had even experimented with that sort of foot tie occasionally. But it felt different to have her feet bound that way by another person.

There was a long pause. Mignon guessed that it was Meg’s turn to have her ankles bound that way. If only the blindfold was removed! Mignon was feeling stifled and faint under all the restrictions about her face.

The next step in the procedure surprised Mignon. Her legs were pulled to one side and crossed at the ankle with Meg’s where they were tied together with more of that soft cord looping just above where her ankles were already bound. Mignon could feel the smoothness of Meg’s nylon-clad calves pressing against her shins.

‘Shall we relieve our pretty catches of their blindfolds?’ It was Joan’s voice.

‘Why not? It will be interesting to see their expressions, well their eyes anyway, while I gloat over them,’ returned Alice.

Mignon blinked as the blindfold came away. When her eyes slowly cleared, she saw that they were sitting in a large room with a high ceiling that had exposed wooden beams in traditional Scandinavian country style. They were on a sofa. The floor was thickly carpeted. A pot-bellied stove stood in one corner. At one side the room opened into a large kitchen that did indeed have a parquet floor. Mignon made a mental note of the rack of knives that stood above one of the kitchen benches. But then her attention was drawn back sharply to the tall figure of Alice who was standing over them. At some time during the transfer of the two prisoners into the house, Alice had changed into a full-body cat suit that reminded Mignon forcefully of Batgirl and Catwoman costumes.

'You really are a fool, Meg,’ Mistress Alice began. ‘I’m amazed you weren’t sequestered into white slavery years ago.’ She took up a dramatic pose that had Mignon wondering whether to laugh or cry. ‘Know you,’ she declaimed dramatically, ‘that I am no longer the woman you used to play tie-up games with at university. Now it’s serious. Being a dominatrix is not just for fun. I do it for money. And you and your friend are about to find out how much I enjoy money.’

Mignon’s heart sank. So it was true. They really were kidnapped, for real. She looked at Meg, her new Siamese twin. Meg was staring back at Alice over her gag with wide fear-filled eyes. Mignon noted at the same time how the leather mask clung around Meg’s face. I must look like that too, she thought. Then for the first time she saw the other woman, Joan, standing in the background watching, a tea towel of all things in her hands wiping a glass.

Joan was shorter than Alice by a good head. She had a robust but well proportioned body, full breasts that rivalled Meg’s, and short sandy hair. Her face was oval, freckled and impish. She appeared to be wearing long black stockings or perhaps tights and boots to mid-calf, but it was difficult to tell because she was covered almost from neck to foot in a long black robe that looked like a cross between an academic’s gown and a monk’s habit. Mignon felt uneasy, remembering classic horror movies where the heroine was bound down onto a candle-lit altar for sacrifice at the hands of Hollywood jungle savages, mad monks or nuns, or members of a secret society.

‘I couldn't believe it when you telephoned asking me to play kidnap for you and your friend,’ continued Mistress Alice. ‘When I saw that photo of you two on holiday, well, I wanted to see a lot more of young Mignon. She doesn’t disappoint. She’s a sweetie, isn’t she Joan?’

‘That’s right,’ agreed Joan who had finished wiping a second glass and was placing both glasses on a kitchen bench.

Alice nodded. ‘From then on, I’ve had a fantasy that you became my unwilling clients. And here you are, not only laying on your kidnapping for me, but even presenting me with this remote country house. Don’t you think I have reason to gloat?’

Mignon looked desperately at Meg who was still looking fixedly up at Alice. There was no comfort in their situation.

‘Soo,’ said Alice meaningfully, ‘I’ve got the rest of the weekend to play with you both. There’s the money angle. In order to persuade you, you will each witness the other undergoing my treatment. To avoid any unpleasantness, I am sure you will each sign off a good proportion of your savings. You,’ she looked at Mignon, ‘can easily make it up by writing another of your trashy novels.’

‘Grrmmph!’ Mignon’s nostrils flared and she looked daggers at Alice.’

‘Ah, she has spirit, even better!’ Alice walked up and down in front of her two prisoners. ‘There’s something I think you should know. For you, it will be another bargaining chip. There is time at my disposal this weekend. It’s a long weekend, a bank holiday on Monday, did you know? It means that I can arrange buyers for you both. You may be more willing to sign off on things to avoid that fate, though I’m toying with the idea of selling you and keeping Mignon for myself.’