The Violinist

by Amy Flanagan

The small but packed auditorium reverberated with deafening applause and cheering. The applause grew still louder each time the young violinist took a deep bow, her long blonde hair tumbling around her head and her ample cleavage becoming still more visible over her low-cut evening dress.

Almost the only person in the room who was not applauding was my younger brother Richard, sitting between me and my sister Kate. He sat there with his head in his hands, muttering, “she's good, damn her, good, too good!’ We knew the cause of his distress. In a few weeks, both of them would be competing for the National Young Musician of the Year award. Richard wanted that award as if his life depended on it, and was firmly convinced that only Linda stood between him and his dream. Kate and I were worried. Since the deaths of our parents, we had taken on the responsibility of looking after Richard, and that meant helping him with his very promising career. His worries about Linda were damaging him.

“But Dicky, you know you're better than she is,’ said Kate, reassuringly. “You won that other competition against her.’

“That was months ago, Katie,’ sighed Richard as the applause died down. “She's got a lot better since then. I can tell. And you know,’ he continued with a smile on his face, “she told everyone she only lost to me because she'd been kidnapped and held in a cellar somewhere so she hadn't been able to practise. Nobody believed her, of course.’

He stopped as Linda launched into an encore. I had no idea what its name was, but recognised it as something that Richard had often played. He leaned forward intently to listen. Behind his back, I looked at Kate. She looked back at me and nodded. She had read my mind.


It was easy to find the location of Linda's next recital, and a combination of a little bribery and our feminine wiles helped us to discover which hotel she would be using afterwards. Neither Kate nor I had any wish to work as hotel chambermaids, but there are some things that just have to be done when duty calls. We would grit our teeth and bear it. It would only be for a few hours, though of course the hotel manager had no idea of that as he checked our forged references and wrote down our false names and addresses. He might have spotted the fakes if he´d spent more time looking at them and less at ogling our tight tops and exposed thighs. Linda wasn´t the only girl who knew how to flaunt her body for her advantage.

We couldn't be at the recital, because we were working hard in the hotel. Never mind; we had heard – and seen – quite enough of that brazen hussy already. By 2am, the hotel was quiet, and we went round collecting people´s orders for breakfast in their rooms. When we had delivered all the orders to the kitchen, we put on latex gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. Then we took a trolley and put it outside Linda´s room.

Quietly, I inserted my passkey into the door and opened it. Linda lay face down on the bed. I tiptoed in, followed by Kate with the trolley, and we closed the door behind us. We put on our masks – it was unlikely that Linda would see our faces, but we were not taking any chances.

I leapt onto the bed and sat on Linda. Grabbing a handful of her hair, I pulled it. Her mouth opened to yell, but I stuffed in a large rag. Kate passed me a silk scarf, and I wrapped it tightly round Linda´s head, making a very effective gag. She was trapped by my weight and the blankets, and could do nothing to resist. While I was doing that, Kate untucked the blankets at the end of the bed, grabbed Linda´s slender ankles and handcuffed them together.

Then Kate passed me some sticky tape, which I put over Linda´s mouth to reinforce the gag. Strips from one ear to the other, tight under the jaw, rendered her quite mute, and a few strips over her eyes blindfolded her. It was now safe for Kate to turn on the lights and for us to remove our masks.

Kate pulled back the blankets further, sat on Linda´s flailing legs and lifted her nightie to reveal her bottom. While I pressed Linda´s face into the pillow to make quite sure that she could not make any sound, Kate gave her bottom a good spanking with a hairbrush. All that escaped from Linda were a few muffled sounds that would not disturb anyone in the next room. “Now, you be a good little girl and we won´t have to hurt you too much more,’ I hissed into her ear, putting on a strong French accent to disguise my voice.

I climbed off her, leaving Kate on her legs. Pulling the blankets right off, I grabbed her wrists. Kate helped me to handcuff her wrists, then to fasten the two sets of handcuffs together to hogtie her. She was still struggling. I put a piece of sticky tape over her nostrils. She panicked as she began to suffocate. I took a knife and made slits in the tape so that she could breathe again. “Get it into your head that we´re not playing games here,’ I hissed in my fake accent. “This is your final chance to behave.’ She got the message, and lay still.

Swiftly, Kate and I took all of Linda´s things and packed them into her suitcases. We put them and her on the bottom shelf of the trolley, draped a tablecloth over the trolley to conceal them, and made the bed. There was no trace of our presence. Linda had already paid for the room, so nobody would worry about her early departure.

As fast as we could without creating a disturbance, we wheeled the trolley to the goods lift, and took it down to the underground car park. We stuffed Linda into the boot of our car, and put her luggage on the back seat. Kate returned the trolley, and we set off for home.

Richard was himself away giving a recital, so there was nobody to see us arrive home at 5am. Home was a large, detached Victorian house, separated from its neighbours by high fences. We put the car into the garage, opened the boot and rolled Linda through the connecting door into the house. Taking her down the narrow steps into the cellar was not easy, but we just about managed it between us.

The cellar was large and clean. Kate and I were often down there, but Richard never went, being terrified of the stairs. We dumped Linda on the floor, and cut off her nightie. Then we put on our masks again and went to work securing her for a long-term stay. We rolled her onto her back and peeled the tape off her eyes, but immediately put a blob of dough on each eye, forcing her to shut them before she could do more than glimpse her surroundings. We then added a leather blindfold reinforced with more sticky tape, wrapping several turns tightly round her head. No chink of light could possibly get through all that. I double-checked the blindfold, and then we removed our masks.

We removed the gag. She began to shout, but we ignored her – there was no way that she could be heard outside our house. I forced a dental spreader into her mouth, and opened her mouth so wide that her jaw was nearly dislocated. Kate pointed a hairdryer into her mouth and made sure that her mouth was thoroughly dried. In due course, we would allow her to drink, but we wanted to make things uncomfortable for her initially. Then we forced a large sponge into her mouth until it almost touched the back of her throat and both her cheeks bulged. Getting the whole sponge in was not easy, but we managed it. Releasing the spreader a notch allowed her mouth to close slightly. This trapped the sponge and meant that she could not possibly spit it out until we chose to open her mouth wider again and take it out. A tight strap round her head made this doubly sure.

Rolling her onto her front and removing the handcuffs from her wrists, I sat on her legs to restrain her. We folded her arms behind her back and secured each wrist to the opposite upper arm, just above the elbow. Her fingers fluttered helplessly, quite unable to reach any knots. I pressed her left hand flat against a piece of hardboard and wrapped sticky tape tightly around her hand and the hardboard. Kate did the same with the right hand. We had discussed using bondage mitts, but decided that what we had done would immobilise her fingers better, making it all the harder to play a violin after she had not used her fingers for a while. Also, we could hit her unprotected fingers with a hammer or something if we felt like it.

Next, we rolled her onto her back and removed the handcuffs from her ankles. We forced her legs into a lotus position, tying each ankle to the opposite knee. Her legs were spread wide, revealing her most intimate parts. Wriggle as she might, Linda could do very little to stop me forcing a large dildo in between her legs. It was not easy, but eventually the whole thing was inside her. I next took a balloon catheter and wriggled it in until the exit from her bladder was completely plugged. We would keep her bladder filled to bursting to add to her discomfort.

Turning her over onto her front, I used a large butt plug to complete the plugging of her orifices. Despite lots of lubrication, it was quite a struggle to get in such a huge object, and she didn´t enjoy it at all. Kate had to hold her down quite firmly. Unlike the dildo, which we expected to leave in place for the duration, the butt plug would need to go in and out quite a lot. We intended to remove it regularly, give her an enema, put it back in, leave it for a while, and then take it out again so she could expel the enema.

There was a lot more to do. We looped some rope tightly round her arms and body above and below her splendid breasts, pinning her arms immovably to her back. A few turns of rope wound tightly round each breast, fixed to these body ropes, made her breasts stand out spectacularly. I took great pleasure in putting a crocodile clip on each of her nipples. Despite the gag and the ropes, she managed to convey the impression that she didn´t share my enjoyment, but what could she do about it?

We put a wide belt around Linda´s waist, and used our combined strength to pull it to the very last hole. It was made of wet rawhide, and would shrink and get even tighter as it dried. I tied a rope to the front of the belt, and pulled it through Linda´s crotch, working it up inside her and pulling it tight. This would make doubly sure that the dildo and butt plug stayed put. I passed the rope through the back of the gag strap and the blindfold, then down through the loop of her lotus position legs. Kate helped me to bend Linda´s head back and we pulled the rope ever tighter. Linda moaned and arched her back as we tied off the rope. She was like a bow with a taut bowstring.

We put a pair of headphones on her head and wound loads and loads of sticky tape around them to ensure that she could not get them off. I switched on the hi-fi. Linda would hear an endless loop of me playing a violin excruciatingly badly. We could imagine nothing that would disturb Linda more. The track was punctuated by occasional loud noises to make doubly sure that she would not be able to sleep soundly.

Kate found the switch on the dildo and switched on the vibrator. Despite all of her secure bondage, Linda managed to twitch. The batteries were long-life; they should keep going until we returned in a few hours and replaced them.

Exhausted, we headed out of the cellar, turning off the light and locking the door behind us. We were too tired to enjoy each other, but we fell asleep with smiles on our faces. This was going to be a fun two weeks!

The End

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