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The Perils of Linda, part 3

Aragorn

TMF Regular
Joined
Apr 22, 2001
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Part 3
Linda didn't try to get loose for one simple reason: Her mother had untied her bikini top again, leaving Linda to hold it in place with her arms, which were still secured behind her back. In addition, her mother had gotten another length of rope and had wrapped around her middle, just below her dangerously loose bikini top, had ran it between her bound arms, and had attached Linda in a sitting position to a wooden column in the living room. They had then left the room, leaving her alone with Bobby.
Bobby was sitting on the couch watching a movie called Blood of Dracula's Castle, in which were several girls chained to walls with their arms over their heads. Every one of the girls wore a sleeveless dress or top, and Bobby sat attentively, leaning forward with his chin in his hand. The poor girl wearing the least was being menaced by a guy with a knife.

"Look, Linda," he said, "they're chained up with their underarms showing, just like you were."

"Yeah, you little creep," said the bound Linda, who mercifully was tied with her own bare arms behind her back, "but they don't have two little cretins tickling them."

"They should."

Linda thought the girls were lucky they didn't have Bobby and his creepy friend Eddie to deal with. Actually, she was grateful the movie kept him occupied. If he wasn't so absorbed with chained girls on the TV screen, he might find some way to torment his sister who was bound for real in the same room. And she was wearing a heck of a lot less than they were. But having a healthy ego, she also found it irritating. Kids, she thought. "Hey, squirt, how about untying me."

Bobby looked at her for a second, pondered her request, concluded that he liked her that way, and said, "Nah. Mom told me not to untie you." His gaze returned to the TV. "Since when do you listen to her?" Linda already knew the answer, that he obeyed their mother when it was something he wanted to do anyway. And what kid wouldn't want to leave his big sister tied up?

The inevitable commercial break came, and Bobby shifted his gaze to his sister, his eleven-year-old brain processing three bits of knowledge: a) That she was securely tied up. b) That she was damn near naked, and half of what she was wearing was precariously close to falling off. c) That on the mantle there was a decorative vase in which were several feathers.

This was almost as good as the movie. He got up and retrieved a particularly long feather, and idly twirled it between his fingers, then looked at his bound sister.

"Bobby, no." she said, trying to sound authoritative. With a mischievous smile, he slowly walked toward her. "Bobby, don't you dare!"

Stooping down beside her, careful to avoid her legs after seeing what she had done to Aunt Vivian, he slowly stroked the end of the feather along her collarbone, which caused her to twitch her shoulder.

"Bobby, don t do that."

But he did that again, and again she twitched, a simple movement that Bobby found he liked. He repeated it on her other bare shoulder, and that shoulder dutifully twitched.

"You stupid twerp."

Bobby thought about that for a second, then said, "Smarter than you."

"How do you figure?"

"You're the one who let Mom tie you up in a bikini. You're tied up, and I've got a feather. Who's stupid?"

He had a point, she conceded. If she were so smart, she wouldn't be tied to a column.

To emphasize his point, Bobby stroked the feather across her abdomen, between her bikini top and the rope securing her to the column. She giggled in response, squirming. The bikini top slipped slightly.

Next he drew the feather across her chest, causing more giggles, but this time she held still lest the top slip some more.

"You like torturing me, don't you?"

Bobby shrugged and circled her navel. "I suppose." He ran the feather in decreasing circles toward her navel, then stuck the tip inside it and twirled.

Linda gritted her teeth and looked up at the ceiling, conscious of two things: There was a feather inside her navel, and the rope holding her hands behind her back.

A very bad combination.

"Heeheeheehee."

"Does that tickle?"

"Yes heehee." Then she yelled, "Get away from me, you little shithead!"

"Linda! That s no way to speak to your little brother." Her mother, father, and Aunt Vivian had just passed through the doorway.

"The little moron is driving me crazy!"

Her mother came over and untied the rope holding her to the column, and Linda leaned forward. Then her mother tied her dangerously loose bikini strap. Expecting to have her hands untied, Linda remained leaning forward, but instead her mother tied the rope that had been holding her against the column to the rope between her wrists. Her aunt and mother each grabbed an arm and hefted her to her feet, her mother holding the stray rope like a leash.

"Enough is enough. Untie me."

"Not so fast, young lady. There's still the matter of you throwing your aunt on the floor."

"I couldn t help it! She was tickling me, and I lost control."

"Well, we ve found a way to solve that."

"Huh?"

They led the reluctant Linda out toward the backyard and down the path to the large garage which had been converted to a storehouse for the museum artifacts not currently on display. Her father opened the side door, and beckoned the three women in. Once inside, Linda gasped and tried to break free, but her mother and aunt had anticipated this and had tightened their grip.

Right in the middle of the room, directly under the fluorescent lights, was the torture rack from the dungeon.

to be continued
 
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