Wonderfully description update again [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]
We're all mad here (?FM+/?F+) [FINISHED]
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tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 491
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Well, if that's what a banker does then I might be putting in for a career change
Wonderfully description update again [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]
Wonderfully description update again [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]
008.
I'm in a study, a type of room I've never seen outside of movies set in posh old houses. The room is large, and square, with two walls given over to nothing except bookcases, all of which are- save for the occasional gap -covered in thick leather bound books with spines of every colour. The third wall has large French windows with a wide cushion covered sill, though the angle is all wrong for seeing anything of the view beyond. And on the forth, opposite, wall, is a closed wooden door.
The walls are hung with various artworks. Paintings. But it's that one, the couple stood half facing each other holding hands, that has my complete attention.
I couldn't even begin to guess at the man, but she, she looks just like me. The same skinny frame and raven black hair, the same pale blue eyes. Even her bust, though this is a painting not a photograph, but, even that looks of a type with mine. Both are dressed in the modern style, wearing jeans, above which he sports a black leather unzipped biker jacket, whilst she wears only a purple pull on hoodie.
I know it's not real, but, she looks happy. They both do.
From my place, bound to the Bankers table, something that feels like rope attached to each limb spreading and stretching me out into a tight X shape, I smile back up at them.
For awhile all is silent. Despite not being gagged I don't think to call out, until from beyond the closed door comes the sound of another door closing, and footsteps.
"Hello." Shouting, then laughing, feeling strange asking a stranger for help. But, it's either that or remain here where the Bankers sent me. I've already tried escaping, and my repeated squriming has earned me no slack, no freed limb. So, again. "Hello."
The door opens, and a male face appears, his half smile dropping to a scowl as our eyes meet.
"You." Stepping fully into the room, pointing. He's of an age with me, prehaps younger. He, quite clearly, eats all the food I've ever left on my plate, and then asks for seconds. Not huge, but he's growing quite a belly to match his plump arms and legs, whilst his chin is well on its way to vanishing inside his neck. Messy brown hair runs into a short but untrimmed beard. He's wearing blue jeans and dirty white Adidas, with a yellow Animal tee stretched over his belly.
"Me?" Squriming, feeling his gaze slide briefly over my nakedness, feeling my cheeks flush. "Um. Hi." I try on a smile. "My names Jude. And...."
"Melantha." Muttered almost, shaking his head. "How did you ever find your way home?"
"Home?" Looking around again. "What?"
But his back is to me, his phone pressed to his ear. "Yes." Voice, English posh, like mine I realise with a shock, is calm. "And a very good morning to you Sandra. Could you put me through to the warden. Please." Turning around, giving me a smile. "Won't be a moment sis."
"Sis?"
But he's facing the window again. "Ah. Warden." Still calm. "Yes." A pause. "I see. No news you say. Well." And now his voice rises. "Maybe that's because she's in my fucking house. So get over here and fucking well take care of things you useless waste of space." Holding the phone away from his face, screaming at it. "I pay you so I don't have to see her again." And he hangs up, not waiting for an answer.
"You look like her." His words cast across the room at me from the window sill. We've been in silence since he hung up, for my part I'm just not sure what to say, what to ask. Everytime I think I know a thing three more things appear. For him, sitting there pointedly not looking at me, yet apparently unwilling to abandon me. And now he wants to talk.
"Like," I nod at the painting, he hasn't untied me, and I haven't asked, "who are they?"
"Mother and Father." A small smile. "What a beast you must be for killing them both."
"I did what?"
But he's laughing. "Sorry. 'Jude.' But it's all just too perfect not to enjoy this moment to gloat."
"But." Shaking my head, telling the truth. "I don't remember." Is that the big reveal? I'm in Hidden Hills for the crime of killing my parents, and then somehow forgetting the fact?
Not quite.
"Of course." Still laughing. So happy to see our parents dead? "You aren't supposed to remember Melantha."
"Jude?"
"No." Getting himself under some kind of control, turning to face but still not looking at me. "Melantha's your name."
"Melantha." Tasting the word. Liking the exotic unusual sound of it.
"You don't remember because I made you not remember."
"So." Swallowing, how will I ever come to terms with this part of me just discovered? "I really killed them?"
"Oh. No." Laughing all over again. "Silly girl, haven't you been reading between the lines." Just then his phone rings. Standing, checking and cancelling the call, he grins down at me. "I," tapping his chest, "killed our parents. You." Jabbing at finger at me. "Thanks to my good friend the warden provided me the perfect scapegoat."
"But." Shaking my head, it's all just too much all at once. Finding out I have parents. A house. A brother. Losing two of the three people moments later, because of the third. He pauses in the doorway, turns to regard me. "Yes, sis?"
"Why?"
"Because." A shrug of indifference. "I was hardly going to wait to spend my inheritance."
My brother is crazy. Insane. The wrong sibling is locked away in the Madhouse. I have to do something. I have to put this right, avenge the parents I still have no memory of. I have to get free.
Struggling is no use, all of the knots are out of reach, all four of the ropes pulled too tightly to afford any movement of any limb. I am, it would seem, helpless.
Unless I'm not? I. Somehow. Opened a door to the three moon woodland before. Me. Not Coco. Can I do it again? How did I even do it once? Laying very still I try to relax, to feel around inside myself. Shouldn't there be something new, some muscle I've never stretched before, that I must learn to flex in order to open the way. Or maybe I just need to want to travel enough? Can I wish, for want of a better word, some hole to open up and swallow me, table and all?
I'm still puzzling over all these issues when my brother returns, warden in tow.
"Well," the warden smiles at me, "Jude...."
"Melantha."
"You told her?" Giving my brother a shocked look, tutting. Opening my mouth, before I'm able to speak the warden is jamming a balled up cloth between my jaws, quickly following this up with thick silver tape, which he wraps around my head a half dozen times. Gagging me.
"Mmmggppf fffpmm ffmppf." Struggling, all too late realising the position I'm in. Looming over me, the warden runs a finger across my birthmark.
"Mmmmmmfhhmmm." I squirm at his touch. He shakes his head, muttering. "We've still no clue where she got these."
"Who fucking cares." My brother, across the room leaning against a bookcase, sounding bored. "She escaped. She came back. She escaped again." He waves a hand at me. "Someone tied her up and bought her back."
"This wasn't you?"
"Mmffpp ffm ffpmmfp mmfppf."
"Fucks sake, Bob." Waving at me again. "She's my sister. Do you really think I'd strip her?"
"It really doesn't bother you," the warden again, poking and prodding at my tattoo's, at the stamp on my hand, "these marks?" Looking up at my brother. "You're not curious how she escaped? Twice. Where she goes?"
"Nope." Wandering over, grimacing as his eyes skate across me. My brother hands a thick envelope over. "Here." Smiling. "A little something to make all these questions go away." Fixing the warden with a look. "Just keep her secure from now on. No more fuck ups."
"You're the boss." Shrugging, smiling back as the envelope dissappears into a pocket of his lightweight rain jacket.
"Mmfp mmmpff fmmpff mfm fffff."
"Still can't believe you told her." Shaking his head, the warden pulls a small syringe from his other jacket pocket. Both of them are ignoring my struggles and protests, my repeated failed attempts at freedom. "She won't remember anyway." Shrugging, my brother gestures at the syringe. "Not so long as you keep dosing her up."
"True."
I feel the needles cold prick in my arm, a moment of spiked discomfort. And then the warden's retreating, they both are, wearing matching smiles, regarding me in silence now as darkness begins to drift in from the edges of my vision.
I'm too tired to fight, and the table feels nice and comfortable. Like the best bed ever. And even being naked doesn't seem like a bad thing, it's only my breasts after all.
And I am still wearing my shoes.
Though I find I can no longer recall why that should spark the small smile that ghosts across my face as I drift, and fall, down into the blackness of nothing.
"No more fuck ups." My brothers voice, sounding so very far away, is the last thing I hear.
I'm in a study, a type of room I've never seen outside of movies set in posh old houses. The room is large, and square, with two walls given over to nothing except bookcases, all of which are- save for the occasional gap -covered in thick leather bound books with spines of every colour. The third wall has large French windows with a wide cushion covered sill, though the angle is all wrong for seeing anything of the view beyond. And on the forth, opposite, wall, is a closed wooden door.
The walls are hung with various artworks. Paintings. But it's that one, the couple stood half facing each other holding hands, that has my complete attention.
I couldn't even begin to guess at the man, but she, she looks just like me. The same skinny frame and raven black hair, the same pale blue eyes. Even her bust, though this is a painting not a photograph, but, even that looks of a type with mine. Both are dressed in the modern style, wearing jeans, above which he sports a black leather unzipped biker jacket, whilst she wears only a purple pull on hoodie.
I know it's not real, but, she looks happy. They both do.
From my place, bound to the Bankers table, something that feels like rope attached to each limb spreading and stretching me out into a tight X shape, I smile back up at them.
For awhile all is silent. Despite not being gagged I don't think to call out, until from beyond the closed door comes the sound of another door closing, and footsteps.
"Hello." Shouting, then laughing, feeling strange asking a stranger for help. But, it's either that or remain here where the Bankers sent me. I've already tried escaping, and my repeated squriming has earned me no slack, no freed limb. So, again. "Hello."
The door opens, and a male face appears, his half smile dropping to a scowl as our eyes meet.
"You." Stepping fully into the room, pointing. He's of an age with me, prehaps younger. He, quite clearly, eats all the food I've ever left on my plate, and then asks for seconds. Not huge, but he's growing quite a belly to match his plump arms and legs, whilst his chin is well on its way to vanishing inside his neck. Messy brown hair runs into a short but untrimmed beard. He's wearing blue jeans and dirty white Adidas, with a yellow Animal tee stretched over his belly.
"Me?" Squriming, feeling his gaze slide briefly over my nakedness, feeling my cheeks flush. "Um. Hi." I try on a smile. "My names Jude. And...."
"Melantha." Muttered almost, shaking his head. "How did you ever find your way home?"
"Home?" Looking around again. "What?"
But his back is to me, his phone pressed to his ear. "Yes." Voice, English posh, like mine I realise with a shock, is calm. "And a very good morning to you Sandra. Could you put me through to the warden. Please." Turning around, giving me a smile. "Won't be a moment sis."
"Sis?"
But he's facing the window again. "Ah. Warden." Still calm. "Yes." A pause. "I see. No news you say. Well." And now his voice rises. "Maybe that's because she's in my fucking house. So get over here and fucking well take care of things you useless waste of space." Holding the phone away from his face, screaming at it. "I pay you so I don't have to see her again." And he hangs up, not waiting for an answer.
"You look like her." His words cast across the room at me from the window sill. We've been in silence since he hung up, for my part I'm just not sure what to say, what to ask. Everytime I think I know a thing three more things appear. For him, sitting there pointedly not looking at me, yet apparently unwilling to abandon me. And now he wants to talk.
"Like," I nod at the painting, he hasn't untied me, and I haven't asked, "who are they?"
"Mother and Father." A small smile. "What a beast you must be for killing them both."
"I did what?"
But he's laughing. "Sorry. 'Jude.' But it's all just too perfect not to enjoy this moment to gloat."
"But." Shaking my head, telling the truth. "I don't remember." Is that the big reveal? I'm in Hidden Hills for the crime of killing my parents, and then somehow forgetting the fact?
Not quite.
"Of course." Still laughing. So happy to see our parents dead? "You aren't supposed to remember Melantha."
"Jude?"
"No." Getting himself under some kind of control, turning to face but still not looking at me. "Melantha's your name."
"Melantha." Tasting the word. Liking the exotic unusual sound of it.
"You don't remember because I made you not remember."
"So." Swallowing, how will I ever come to terms with this part of me just discovered? "I really killed them?"
"Oh. No." Laughing all over again. "Silly girl, haven't you been reading between the lines." Just then his phone rings. Standing, checking and cancelling the call, he grins down at me. "I," tapping his chest, "killed our parents. You." Jabbing at finger at me. "Thanks to my good friend the warden provided me the perfect scapegoat."
"But." Shaking my head, it's all just too much all at once. Finding out I have parents. A house. A brother. Losing two of the three people moments later, because of the third. He pauses in the doorway, turns to regard me. "Yes, sis?"
"Why?"
"Because." A shrug of indifference. "I was hardly going to wait to spend my inheritance."
My brother is crazy. Insane. The wrong sibling is locked away in the Madhouse. I have to do something. I have to put this right, avenge the parents I still have no memory of. I have to get free.
Struggling is no use, all of the knots are out of reach, all four of the ropes pulled too tightly to afford any movement of any limb. I am, it would seem, helpless.
Unless I'm not? I. Somehow. Opened a door to the three moon woodland before. Me. Not Coco. Can I do it again? How did I even do it once? Laying very still I try to relax, to feel around inside myself. Shouldn't there be something new, some muscle I've never stretched before, that I must learn to flex in order to open the way. Or maybe I just need to want to travel enough? Can I wish, for want of a better word, some hole to open up and swallow me, table and all?
I'm still puzzling over all these issues when my brother returns, warden in tow.
"Well," the warden smiles at me, "Jude...."
"Melantha."
"You told her?" Giving my brother a shocked look, tutting. Opening my mouth, before I'm able to speak the warden is jamming a balled up cloth between my jaws, quickly following this up with thick silver tape, which he wraps around my head a half dozen times. Gagging me.
"Mmmggppf fffpmm ffmppf." Struggling, all too late realising the position I'm in. Looming over me, the warden runs a finger across my birthmark.
"Mmmmmmfhhmmm." I squirm at his touch. He shakes his head, muttering. "We've still no clue where she got these."
"Who fucking cares." My brother, across the room leaning against a bookcase, sounding bored. "She escaped. She came back. She escaped again." He waves a hand at me. "Someone tied her up and bought her back."
"This wasn't you?"
"Mmffpp ffm ffpmmfp mmfppf."
"Fucks sake, Bob." Waving at me again. "She's my sister. Do you really think I'd strip her?"
"It really doesn't bother you," the warden again, poking and prodding at my tattoo's, at the stamp on my hand, "these marks?" Looking up at my brother. "You're not curious how she escaped? Twice. Where she goes?"
"Nope." Wandering over, grimacing as his eyes skate across me. My brother hands a thick envelope over. "Here." Smiling. "A little something to make all these questions go away." Fixing the warden with a look. "Just keep her secure from now on. No more fuck ups."
"You're the boss." Shrugging, smiling back as the envelope dissappears into a pocket of his lightweight rain jacket.
"Mmfp mmmpff fmmpff mfm fffff."
"Still can't believe you told her." Shaking his head, the warden pulls a small syringe from his other jacket pocket. Both of them are ignoring my struggles and protests, my repeated failed attempts at freedom. "She won't remember anyway." Shrugging, my brother gestures at the syringe. "Not so long as you keep dosing her up."
"True."
I feel the needles cold prick in my arm, a moment of spiked discomfort. And then the warden's retreating, they both are, wearing matching smiles, regarding me in silence now as darkness begins to drift in from the edges of my vision.
I'm too tired to fight, and the table feels nice and comfortable. Like the best bed ever. And even being naked doesn't seem like a bad thing, it's only my breasts after all.
And I am still wearing my shoes.
Though I find I can no longer recall why that should spark the small smile that ghosts across my face as I drift, and fall, down into the blackness of nothing.
"No more fuck ups." My brothers voice, sounding so very far away, is the last thing I hear.
009.
Normally, like most people- I've always assumed -when I wake up I stretch. But. "Huh? Um?" I ponder, waking to find myself restrained to my simple metal framed bed, in my room, at Hidden Hills. It would seem I'm already locked mid stretch, so, what's the point?
Foam cuffs, but I can feel a rigidness to them that speaks of metal insides, have been strapped and belted tightly around each limb, then attached to straps that must secure under the bed somewhere. These straps have been tightened to stretch and splay my body out in an X shape, pinning me in place on my bed, preventing me from moving.
I'm sure I didn't need restraining two nights ago?
Once freed, eventually, by a bored orderly, I shrug on a baggy white tee, and pull on regulation Inmate joggers, over the simple grey underwear I'd been wearing whilst strapped to the bed, and go for breakfast.
Except. "Oh." Tapping a finger against the paper, where it sits tacked to the wall beside my door. "Um?" For the second time today, and it's still early, I'm confused.
We, all of us inmates, have a single sheet of paper beside our doors. On each one is written our name, followed by our date of birth. These things my patchy memory knows: Jude, followed by 31/10. The rest of the page though, I'd swear yesterday it was blank?
After breakfast, sometime later, I'm escorted to the on site doctors office.
Or at least, I'm lead down several corridors, then waved towards a distant door, and left to walk the final stretch myself.
I can hear shouting, from inside the room. Two voices raised in anger, words carrying clearly through the frosted glass and thin walls. "Just do as you're told Phoebe." A man's voice, followed by a ladies, no less angry. "But it's wrong, Bob."
"That's warden to you."
"I won't be a party to this." A brief pause, followed by. "I won't sign this off."
"Then you'll never work here," now the tone drops, becoming softer, yet more threatening, "or anywhere else. Again."
"You...."
"Yes." This time the man, the warden, pauses. "I can, Phoebe. And I will. So help me you'll fall in line on this or I'll have you committed right beside that crazy bitch."
The door opens, suddenly, causing me to jump back in surprise. Near storming out the warden spots me as he's turning the other way. "Ah." A sly, not friendly smile, spreads across his face. "Jude. And how are we feeling today?"
"Oh." Squriming slightly under his gaze, it feels as though he can see right through my clothes, as though I were naked. "Warden." Fumbling for words. "Um...."
"Please." Still smiling, still seemingly eying up my covered but uncovered breasts, the warden holds open the doctors door. "Go on in Jude."
Dr P McAvoy- is the P, Phoebe then -according to the wooden nameplate resting on her desk. The desk is tidy to the point of obsession, as is the room itself. Well sorted bookshelves, a sofa and armchair positioned so those laying down can gaze out and see a glimpse of, on the right day, clear blue sky. A half dozen pot plants, all healthy, dot the room, and a framed print on one wall shows the Aurora Borealis over North Pole ice.
The doctor herself. Slim legs and a skinny waist, her toned figure hugged by a white summer dress with thin shoulder straps and a plunging neckline, out of which a firm looking average bust peeks. The dress has a scattered pattern of red and yellow flowers. Atop this she wears a grey hoodie, Hidden Hills printed on the back. Her sensibly short blonde hair is tied into a loose tail.
Turning to face me she tries on a smile which looks more sad then welcoming. "Jude." A brief grimace as the door clicks shut behind me, I turn to see the ghost of the wardens shadow marching off behind the frosted glass. "Come in. Take a seat."
Sitting myself on the sofa, ready to lay down- because isn't that how this works -I find Dr McAvoy sitting herself down beside me. Very close beside me.
"Doctor?" Looking down, at our obvious proximity, at her tanned leg all but touching mine. This is how you'd sit beside someone you knew well, knew intimately. This is how you'd sit beside your girlfriend.
"Jude." Looking down too, then back up, her warm gaze meeting what I know must be my largely blank one. I've never had to visit this office before. "Right." A small nod, her smile losing it's edges, becoming something sadder, she rises, crosses to the armchair and sits down there.
"How are you today?"
"Oh." I grin at the expected doctor question. "Okay." I think. "Thank you. Not sleepy at all doctor."
"Why might you be sleepy, Jude?"
"Well." If I can't tell the doctor who can I tell? "I woke up strapped to my bed."
"You did?" Is that a blush? I'm sure her eyes just, quickly enough that I almost missed it, tracked down passed my breasts to my crotch, then back up.
"How did you feel?"
"Feel?"
"Being," a quick, guilty looking, glance at me, "strapped up? Being bound."
"Oh." I giggle, a nervous sound that raises a half smile on Dr McAvoy's face. I like it when she smiles I realise. She looks cute. "Well. Um." A shrug. "It was okay, I guess."
"Did being helpless upset you?"
"No." I think some more. "It was, actually, kind of fun."
"Being tied up is fun?"
"Yes." I blush, the doctor actually giggles.
"Well." Standing up. "I think maybe we should...."
"Should...?" I prompt, seeing the- cheeky it seemed -grin fall off her face, as she looks towards a stack of papers, placed and weighted down by a slim black tablet, on her desk.
"Never mind." Shaking her head, swiping up the papers, sitting back down.
"Doctor?"
"Yes? Jude."
"Um. Well." Because of my patchy head, because I need to ask someone. "The sheet outside my door, I don't remember it having things on it."
"No." Still looking glum, she huffs out a breath, signing the bottom most paper.
We remain in silence for what feels like forever. Dr McAvoy offers no further explanation to my question, nor does she ask me to clarify, to which I would've been happy to tell her about how my sheet now declares I'm to be restrained each night, plus I have prescribed medication each day. Neither of which, I'm sure, where there yesterday.
Or is this just another hole in my brain? Have I always been medicated?
For what must be the hundredth time I ask myself, why am I here? What did I do to wind up locked in Hidden Hills?
"Jude."
"Huh?" I'd been daydreaming. Lost inside myself and my thoughts. Brooding. Dr McAvoy is looking at me, a half smile back on her face. "Yes, doctor?"
"Would you mind if I asked you some questions?"
"Please," making an open handed gesture, "go ahead."
"Have we ever met," her eyes seem to be searching mine, "before today?"
"No."
"Do you know who," a small shake of her head, as though at something crazy sounding, "or what, Admiral Nay is?"
"Um." Is it a trick question? One of those where you go for the, obvious, right answer, only to fall foul of a trap? "Is he an Admiral?"
"He may well be." Nodding. "Have you ever met him, Jude?"
"No."
"Can you tell me anything about your three tattoo's?"
"My." How does she know? My gaze darts down to my crotch, where, for some reason, at some point, I'd had my old birthmark, an eight pointed star, turned into a black tattoo. The other two: a multicoloured swarm of butterflies on my left shoulder and upper arm, and, bizarrely, a stamped 'PENDING APPROVAL' in red on the back of my left hand, are visible. But how does she know about my third? "Um." Think girl. "No." Shaking my head. I don't even remember getting them, let alone why. "Sorry."
"I'm going to try and help you, Jude." Picking up her tablet, having crossed back to the desk to swap the papers out for it. "Set up a regular meeting," giving me a small, almost nervous, smile, as she taps away, "prehaps twice weekly."
"Okay." I nod, trying on a smile back. That's good. Isn't it? Doctors are supposed to help.
For the next three days I drift, as do all the inmates here, through the building. I walk from room to room. From meal to meal. From lining up for my twice daily pill dose to laying down in my bed each night, feeling a strange, almost happy, tingle as one or another of the female orderlies tightens and buckles my straps, pinning me in place.
On this third night, the temperature still high, the air muggy, I've stripped naked, and am strapped in place with no covering sheet, my skinny yet busty body exposed for all to see, were there anyone here.
Even with the window cracked halfway it's still hot. I'm still uncomfortable.
Unable to sleep, not due to the restraints- I've had no trouble sleeping soundly despite being pinned into an X shape each night -my mind is wandering as I stare at the ceiling of my room. Seeing yet not seeing.
My eyes track across the faded white paint, coming to rest on the black stain up in one corner. "Just you and me again." I tell the stain. And then. "Oh." I blink, closing my eyes, counting to ten. But, when I open them it's still there. A smile. In the middle of the darkness a patch of white. Teeth. The smile is wide and curved like a thin fresh moon.
There's something up there, in my room. Something smiling down on me like a grinning cat.
Normally, like most people- I've always assumed -when I wake up I stretch. But. "Huh? Um?" I ponder, waking to find myself restrained to my simple metal framed bed, in my room, at Hidden Hills. It would seem I'm already locked mid stretch, so, what's the point?
Foam cuffs, but I can feel a rigidness to them that speaks of metal insides, have been strapped and belted tightly around each limb, then attached to straps that must secure under the bed somewhere. These straps have been tightened to stretch and splay my body out in an X shape, pinning me in place on my bed, preventing me from moving.
I'm sure I didn't need restraining two nights ago?
Once freed, eventually, by a bored orderly, I shrug on a baggy white tee, and pull on regulation Inmate joggers, over the simple grey underwear I'd been wearing whilst strapped to the bed, and go for breakfast.
Except. "Oh." Tapping a finger against the paper, where it sits tacked to the wall beside my door. "Um?" For the second time today, and it's still early, I'm confused.
We, all of us inmates, have a single sheet of paper beside our doors. On each one is written our name, followed by our date of birth. These things my patchy memory knows: Jude, followed by 31/10. The rest of the page though, I'd swear yesterday it was blank?
After breakfast, sometime later, I'm escorted to the on site doctors office.
Or at least, I'm lead down several corridors, then waved towards a distant door, and left to walk the final stretch myself.
I can hear shouting, from inside the room. Two voices raised in anger, words carrying clearly through the frosted glass and thin walls. "Just do as you're told Phoebe." A man's voice, followed by a ladies, no less angry. "But it's wrong, Bob."
"That's warden to you."
"I won't be a party to this." A brief pause, followed by. "I won't sign this off."
"Then you'll never work here," now the tone drops, becoming softer, yet more threatening, "or anywhere else. Again."
"You...."
"Yes." This time the man, the warden, pauses. "I can, Phoebe. And I will. So help me you'll fall in line on this or I'll have you committed right beside that crazy bitch."
The door opens, suddenly, causing me to jump back in surprise. Near storming out the warden spots me as he's turning the other way. "Ah." A sly, not friendly smile, spreads across his face. "Jude. And how are we feeling today?"
"Oh." Squriming slightly under his gaze, it feels as though he can see right through my clothes, as though I were naked. "Warden." Fumbling for words. "Um...."
"Please." Still smiling, still seemingly eying up my covered but uncovered breasts, the warden holds open the doctors door. "Go on in Jude."
Dr P McAvoy- is the P, Phoebe then -according to the wooden nameplate resting on her desk. The desk is tidy to the point of obsession, as is the room itself. Well sorted bookshelves, a sofa and armchair positioned so those laying down can gaze out and see a glimpse of, on the right day, clear blue sky. A half dozen pot plants, all healthy, dot the room, and a framed print on one wall shows the Aurora Borealis over North Pole ice.
The doctor herself. Slim legs and a skinny waist, her toned figure hugged by a white summer dress with thin shoulder straps and a plunging neckline, out of which a firm looking average bust peeks. The dress has a scattered pattern of red and yellow flowers. Atop this she wears a grey hoodie, Hidden Hills printed on the back. Her sensibly short blonde hair is tied into a loose tail.
Turning to face me she tries on a smile which looks more sad then welcoming. "Jude." A brief grimace as the door clicks shut behind me, I turn to see the ghost of the wardens shadow marching off behind the frosted glass. "Come in. Take a seat."
Sitting myself on the sofa, ready to lay down- because isn't that how this works -I find Dr McAvoy sitting herself down beside me. Very close beside me.
"Doctor?" Looking down, at our obvious proximity, at her tanned leg all but touching mine. This is how you'd sit beside someone you knew well, knew intimately. This is how you'd sit beside your girlfriend.
"Jude." Looking down too, then back up, her warm gaze meeting what I know must be my largely blank one. I've never had to visit this office before. "Right." A small nod, her smile losing it's edges, becoming something sadder, she rises, crosses to the armchair and sits down there.
"How are you today?"
"Oh." I grin at the expected doctor question. "Okay." I think. "Thank you. Not sleepy at all doctor."
"Why might you be sleepy, Jude?"
"Well." If I can't tell the doctor who can I tell? "I woke up strapped to my bed."
"You did?" Is that a blush? I'm sure her eyes just, quickly enough that I almost missed it, tracked down passed my breasts to my crotch, then back up.
"How did you feel?"
"Feel?"
"Being," a quick, guilty looking, glance at me, "strapped up? Being bound."
"Oh." I giggle, a nervous sound that raises a half smile on Dr McAvoy's face. I like it when she smiles I realise. She looks cute. "Well. Um." A shrug. "It was okay, I guess."
"Did being helpless upset you?"
"No." I think some more. "It was, actually, kind of fun."
"Being tied up is fun?"
"Yes." I blush, the doctor actually giggles.
"Well." Standing up. "I think maybe we should...."
"Should...?" I prompt, seeing the- cheeky it seemed -grin fall off her face, as she looks towards a stack of papers, placed and weighted down by a slim black tablet, on her desk.
"Never mind." Shaking her head, swiping up the papers, sitting back down.
"Doctor?"
"Yes? Jude."
"Um. Well." Because of my patchy head, because I need to ask someone. "The sheet outside my door, I don't remember it having things on it."
"No." Still looking glum, she huffs out a breath, signing the bottom most paper.
We remain in silence for what feels like forever. Dr McAvoy offers no further explanation to my question, nor does she ask me to clarify, to which I would've been happy to tell her about how my sheet now declares I'm to be restrained each night, plus I have prescribed medication each day. Neither of which, I'm sure, where there yesterday.
Or is this just another hole in my brain? Have I always been medicated?
For what must be the hundredth time I ask myself, why am I here? What did I do to wind up locked in Hidden Hills?
"Jude."
"Huh?" I'd been daydreaming. Lost inside myself and my thoughts. Brooding. Dr McAvoy is looking at me, a half smile back on her face. "Yes, doctor?"
"Would you mind if I asked you some questions?"
"Please," making an open handed gesture, "go ahead."
"Have we ever met," her eyes seem to be searching mine, "before today?"
"No."
"Do you know who," a small shake of her head, as though at something crazy sounding, "or what, Admiral Nay is?"
"Um." Is it a trick question? One of those where you go for the, obvious, right answer, only to fall foul of a trap? "Is he an Admiral?"
"He may well be." Nodding. "Have you ever met him, Jude?"
"No."
"Can you tell me anything about your three tattoo's?"
"My." How does she know? My gaze darts down to my crotch, where, for some reason, at some point, I'd had my old birthmark, an eight pointed star, turned into a black tattoo. The other two: a multicoloured swarm of butterflies on my left shoulder and upper arm, and, bizarrely, a stamped 'PENDING APPROVAL' in red on the back of my left hand, are visible. But how does she know about my third? "Um." Think girl. "No." Shaking my head. I don't even remember getting them, let alone why. "Sorry."
"I'm going to try and help you, Jude." Picking up her tablet, having crossed back to the desk to swap the papers out for it. "Set up a regular meeting," giving me a small, almost nervous, smile, as she taps away, "prehaps twice weekly."
"Okay." I nod, trying on a smile back. That's good. Isn't it? Doctors are supposed to help.
For the next three days I drift, as do all the inmates here, through the building. I walk from room to room. From meal to meal. From lining up for my twice daily pill dose to laying down in my bed each night, feeling a strange, almost happy, tingle as one or another of the female orderlies tightens and buckles my straps, pinning me in place.
On this third night, the temperature still high, the air muggy, I've stripped naked, and am strapped in place with no covering sheet, my skinny yet busty body exposed for all to see, were there anyone here.
Even with the window cracked halfway it's still hot. I'm still uncomfortable.
Unable to sleep, not due to the restraints- I've had no trouble sleeping soundly despite being pinned into an X shape each night -my mind is wandering as I stare at the ceiling of my room. Seeing yet not seeing.
My eyes track across the faded white paint, coming to rest on the black stain up in one corner. "Just you and me again." I tell the stain. And then. "Oh." I blink, closing my eyes, counting to ten. But, when I open them it's still there. A smile. In the middle of the darkness a patch of white. Teeth. The smile is wide and curved like a thin fresh moon.
There's something up there, in my room. Something smiling down on me like a grinning cat.
Ookay, so obviously Hidden Hills is the 'real' reality, but apparently the two 'bleed' into each other... Whatever that ends up meaning.
For some reason, I keep thinking of the movie 'Shutter Island' when I read this, but that's just me.
For some reason, I keep thinking of the movie 'Shutter Island' when I read this, but that's just me.
-
tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 491
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
The mystery deepens - very intriguing! Who else is involved in this web...well apart from the Cat?
010.
The smile falls, gently, down out of the dark spot on my ceiling, bringing a dragon with it.
Not at first. At first there is only the smile, white and wide as a new crescent moon. Drifting closer.
And then, as though shaded in by an artist on speed, the smile gives birth to more.
It's a dragon of the Chinese style. Wingless. Body like a purple snake sprouting four equally purple limbs. The underside is the green of fresh grass, whilst darker green ridges and flaps surround the wide mouthed face, and march down its back.
Walking through the air towards me it appears, as I lay strapped naked in place, to be descending a flight of invisible stairs.
"Melantha." Landing gently on my belly, up close the dragon is cat sized. It nods at me, a formal greeting, before continuing in a voice deep but well spoken. Male. "Desp...."
"Is that your name?" I interrupt, more fascinated then afraid. Nothing like this has ever happened. "Melantha?"
"No." A shake of the head, a front foot pointed at me over the swell of my breasts. "You are Melantha."
"I'm quite sure that I'm not."
"No?"
"Well." Patchy memory. "At least," nodding since I can't point, "on my door it says Jude."
"And you would believe the words of liars and fools over those of Wu-Quikhf?"
"Wif quirkhum?"
"Ah." A shake of the head. "I can see now that Dakvishlcocodl, the four hundre...."
"Dingkovish...."
"I," a shake of the head, "am not finished."
"Sorry."
"Dakvishlcocodl, the four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name. Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver. Wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe. Friend to and eater of rabbits."
"Wow."
"Quite. Spiders do enjoy their titles so."
"That whole thing is a name?"
"Yes. And it would seem she had the truth of matters."
"This. Um. Drakingvishcodlco?"
"You are quite bad at this."
"Sorry."
"Let us begin again," padding forwards up onto my breasts, his claws tickling at my nipples, "shall we?"
"Once, there was a queen."
"And a prince?"
"No. This queen lived far from here, in a...."
"Was she American then?"
"Melantha."
"Jude."
"Hmm." Pointing towards the door. "Out there, where it tells all that you are to be thus bound each night. Does it say too that you are to be gagged?"
"Um. No."
"I see." Fixing me with a look. "A pity, yes?"
"I should let you talk," catching the point.
"So." Still standing, front feet on my breasts, looking down on me. "A queen. One who lived far away, in a land circled by many more moons then this world we now find ourselves on. This queen, like all before and after her, knew the ways of the doors. The secret ways of travel. And travel she did."
"She saw many things, in many places. But," a smile, "she always came home. Until one day she met a man."
"A prince."
"I will," placing a clawed foot on my mouth, "gag you myself. If I must."
"Mmmffppf."
"Hmm."
"This man, handsome as she was beautiful, was a good man. And in time the queen abandoned her old ways. She travelled no more, instead living as the man did, a normal life, a life tied to one world. They married, as was the custom of this place, and she bore him two children. The first, a girl, destined, as it has always been the case with first borns, to be queen. The second a son."
"But the son was not the good man his father and mother wished for, and one day he rose up and slew his parents. And, because the son was sly, it was the daughter who was found at fault. The queen in waiting, who did not know she was such as the time to be told had not yet come to pass."
"So the daughter was locked away in a house of madness." Wu-Quikhf grins. "Until today."
"What happens to her today?" I whisper, totally spellbound by this twisting tale. "Today." Still grinning. "Tonight. She will escape, and return to her true home. Her mothers castle. On the world of many moons."
"She will?"
"Yes." Stretching his neck out closer, bringing us eye to pale yellow eye. "Melantha. Jude. You are that daughter. And I am here to bring you home."
"But." Really? I mean, it is a real actual dragon. Which, because I can actually feel it's tiny claws on the soft skin of my C cups, aught to mean it's real. But. "Well." And my memory is patchy, who knows what secrets it hides. "Is my name really Melantha?"
"Yes."
"And that story, it's real?"
"It is. We have tried already. You were found. You were aided in crossing over. You have been gifted with those markings that were yours by birthright. But we were unprepared for the depths of your brothers evil."
"Markings?" Looking at my left shoulder. "Is that what these are?"
"Yes."
"From Admiral Nay." Touching my birthmark, making me squirm and giggle. "The ability to open doors, to walk at will between all worlds."
"From Dakvishlcocodl, the four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name. Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver. Wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe. Friend to and eater of rabbits." Touching my shoulder. "The woodlands blessing. Naming you as a friend to all trees."
"From the Bankers."
"Bankers?"
"Prehaps it is best you don't remember." Shaking his head, touching my left hand. "Approval."
"But it says pending?"
"Yes," a smirk, "it is their way to jest."
"Just approval though?"
"From such as powerful as them, two who ensure there are never clouds in the sky...."
"What?" I mean. "Someone does that?"
"Yes."
"But. How?"
"How does not matter. It is done. And we are grateful."
"We are?"
"Yes. And, from them, approval is enough."
"Oh."
"And. Lastly. From me." Wu-Quikhf breathes gently onto my left nipple from directly above. I gasp, his breath is hot, smoky. Then I see, and gasp again. Red and black flame, a tattooed circle, spreading out from my nipple, the outer edges licking at the flesh of my collar. The flame covers my breast. "A link to me. And the shared knowledge of fire. My weapon is now your weapon."
With little effort, hinting at far more strength then such a small frame should contain, Wu-Quikhf frees me, snapping the straps that tether my cuffs to the bed, allowing me to sit up and unbuckle my limbs.
"So." Still naked, sat on the edge of my bed, the dragon sat beside me. "This place. With many moons. I've been there?"
"Yes. Two times now."
"I don't remember."
"No. It is your brothers doing. It is hoped." Patting my leg. "We hope. That time away from this place, from whatever it is they are using to poison your mind, will restore your memory."
"So." Thinking, which isn't always easy for me. "I'm not actually sick?"
"No."
"And." Because, given this is a mad house, and I am, from some angles, a patient here, I have to ask. "You're really real?"
"I am."
"I can only prove these truths to you by showing." Jumping down off the bed, padding towards my door. "If you will just trust me?"
"Did I trust you before?" I'm still sat on my bed, Wu-Quikhf turns, looks back at me. "The other two times?"
"Those times were not me."
"Oh. I mean." Turning my hand over, seeing the words of my tattoo. "If this other place is where I belong, then, why am I back here not remembering it?"
"You wonder at why you didn't simply stay, knowing you were queen?"
"Yes." Shaking my head. "Queen." How am I a queen? "But. Yes. If you. Or." A shrug. "Whoever. Told me all this before, why didn't I stay?"
"That is a good question."
"And?" I prompt, because we've now been in silence, regarding each other, for several minutes. "Is it like a secret?"
"No." Shaking his small head. "Forgive me, Melantha. I will attempt to explain."
"There is a rule. One the Admiral especially is very firm on. It is that you can only be shown, prehaps at a push given subtle hints. You can not simply be told these things."
"But wouldn't just telling me I'm supposed to be queen make it all easier?"
"Prehaps. However had you been told, we felt the telling would influence your wanting or not to seek out that which is yours by birthright."
"So." Working my way around it. "You wanted me to want to be queen, to want to live in this other place, because I'd discovered all the fun things for myself?"
"Yes."
"But now you've told me."
"I have."
"So now you've gone and broken the rules."
"Yes." Wu-Quikhf smiles, I giggle. "That is because your brother is not playing fair."
"So. Um." Standing now, having slipped on grey pants and joggers, plus a white vest top and grey bra. Mud stained black Shoes. I've joined Wu-Quikhf at my door. "Are there fun things?"
"Yes." Walking up into the air, coming to perch on my shoulder, small claws digging in for purchase. "Trust in me, Melantha, and in those who came seeking you out before me. We wish you no harm. And," another wide mouthed grin, his whole body briefly disappearing, leaving just that white smile hanging above my shoulder, "there is, definitely, much fun to be had."
"Okay." I nod as Wu-Quikhf shades back into being. "Only." Pointing at my door. "You know they lock us in at night."
The smile falls, gently, down out of the dark spot on my ceiling, bringing a dragon with it.
Not at first. At first there is only the smile, white and wide as a new crescent moon. Drifting closer.
And then, as though shaded in by an artist on speed, the smile gives birth to more.
It's a dragon of the Chinese style. Wingless. Body like a purple snake sprouting four equally purple limbs. The underside is the green of fresh grass, whilst darker green ridges and flaps surround the wide mouthed face, and march down its back.
Walking through the air towards me it appears, as I lay strapped naked in place, to be descending a flight of invisible stairs.
"Melantha." Landing gently on my belly, up close the dragon is cat sized. It nods at me, a formal greeting, before continuing in a voice deep but well spoken. Male. "Desp...."
"Is that your name?" I interrupt, more fascinated then afraid. Nothing like this has ever happened. "Melantha?"
"No." A shake of the head, a front foot pointed at me over the swell of my breasts. "You are Melantha."
"I'm quite sure that I'm not."
"No?"
"Well." Patchy memory. "At least," nodding since I can't point, "on my door it says Jude."
"And you would believe the words of liars and fools over those of Wu-Quikhf?"
"Wif quirkhum?"
"Ah." A shake of the head. "I can see now that Dakvishlcocodl, the four hundre...."
"Dingkovish...."
"I," a shake of the head, "am not finished."
"Sorry."
"Dakvishlcocodl, the four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name. Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver. Wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe. Friend to and eater of rabbits."
"Wow."
"Quite. Spiders do enjoy their titles so."
"That whole thing is a name?"
"Yes. And it would seem she had the truth of matters."
"This. Um. Drakingvishcodlco?"
"You are quite bad at this."
"Sorry."
"Let us begin again," padding forwards up onto my breasts, his claws tickling at my nipples, "shall we?"
"Once, there was a queen."
"And a prince?"
"No. This queen lived far from here, in a...."
"Was she American then?"
"Melantha."
"Jude."
"Hmm." Pointing towards the door. "Out there, where it tells all that you are to be thus bound each night. Does it say too that you are to be gagged?"
"Um. No."
"I see." Fixing me with a look. "A pity, yes?"
"I should let you talk," catching the point.
"So." Still standing, front feet on my breasts, looking down on me. "A queen. One who lived far away, in a land circled by many more moons then this world we now find ourselves on. This queen, like all before and after her, knew the ways of the doors. The secret ways of travel. And travel she did."
"She saw many things, in many places. But," a smile, "she always came home. Until one day she met a man."
"A prince."
"I will," placing a clawed foot on my mouth, "gag you myself. If I must."
"Mmmffppf."
"Hmm."
"This man, handsome as she was beautiful, was a good man. And in time the queen abandoned her old ways. She travelled no more, instead living as the man did, a normal life, a life tied to one world. They married, as was the custom of this place, and she bore him two children. The first, a girl, destined, as it has always been the case with first borns, to be queen. The second a son."
"But the son was not the good man his father and mother wished for, and one day he rose up and slew his parents. And, because the son was sly, it was the daughter who was found at fault. The queen in waiting, who did not know she was such as the time to be told had not yet come to pass."
"So the daughter was locked away in a house of madness." Wu-Quikhf grins. "Until today."
"What happens to her today?" I whisper, totally spellbound by this twisting tale. "Today." Still grinning. "Tonight. She will escape, and return to her true home. Her mothers castle. On the world of many moons."
"She will?"
"Yes." Stretching his neck out closer, bringing us eye to pale yellow eye. "Melantha. Jude. You are that daughter. And I am here to bring you home."
"But." Really? I mean, it is a real actual dragon. Which, because I can actually feel it's tiny claws on the soft skin of my C cups, aught to mean it's real. But. "Well." And my memory is patchy, who knows what secrets it hides. "Is my name really Melantha?"
"Yes."
"And that story, it's real?"
"It is. We have tried already. You were found. You were aided in crossing over. You have been gifted with those markings that were yours by birthright. But we were unprepared for the depths of your brothers evil."
"Markings?" Looking at my left shoulder. "Is that what these are?"
"Yes."
"From Admiral Nay." Touching my birthmark, making me squirm and giggle. "The ability to open doors, to walk at will between all worlds."
"From Dakvishlcocodl, the four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name. Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver. Wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe. Friend to and eater of rabbits." Touching my shoulder. "The woodlands blessing. Naming you as a friend to all trees."
"From the Bankers."
"Bankers?"
"Prehaps it is best you don't remember." Shaking his head, touching my left hand. "Approval."
"But it says pending?"
"Yes," a smirk, "it is their way to jest."
"Just approval though?"
"From such as powerful as them, two who ensure there are never clouds in the sky...."
"What?" I mean. "Someone does that?"
"Yes."
"But. How?"
"How does not matter. It is done. And we are grateful."
"We are?"
"Yes. And, from them, approval is enough."
"Oh."
"And. Lastly. From me." Wu-Quikhf breathes gently onto my left nipple from directly above. I gasp, his breath is hot, smoky. Then I see, and gasp again. Red and black flame, a tattooed circle, spreading out from my nipple, the outer edges licking at the flesh of my collar. The flame covers my breast. "A link to me. And the shared knowledge of fire. My weapon is now your weapon."
With little effort, hinting at far more strength then such a small frame should contain, Wu-Quikhf frees me, snapping the straps that tether my cuffs to the bed, allowing me to sit up and unbuckle my limbs.
"So." Still naked, sat on the edge of my bed, the dragon sat beside me. "This place. With many moons. I've been there?"
"Yes. Two times now."
"I don't remember."
"No. It is your brothers doing. It is hoped." Patting my leg. "We hope. That time away from this place, from whatever it is they are using to poison your mind, will restore your memory."
"So." Thinking, which isn't always easy for me. "I'm not actually sick?"
"No."
"And." Because, given this is a mad house, and I am, from some angles, a patient here, I have to ask. "You're really real?"
"I am."
"I can only prove these truths to you by showing." Jumping down off the bed, padding towards my door. "If you will just trust me?"
"Did I trust you before?" I'm still sat on my bed, Wu-Quikhf turns, looks back at me. "The other two times?"
"Those times were not me."
"Oh. I mean." Turning my hand over, seeing the words of my tattoo. "If this other place is where I belong, then, why am I back here not remembering it?"
"You wonder at why you didn't simply stay, knowing you were queen?"
"Yes." Shaking my head. "Queen." How am I a queen? "But. Yes. If you. Or." A shrug. "Whoever. Told me all this before, why didn't I stay?"
"That is a good question."
"And?" I prompt, because we've now been in silence, regarding each other, for several minutes. "Is it like a secret?"
"No." Shaking his small head. "Forgive me, Melantha. I will attempt to explain."
"There is a rule. One the Admiral especially is very firm on. It is that you can only be shown, prehaps at a push given subtle hints. You can not simply be told these things."
"But wouldn't just telling me I'm supposed to be queen make it all easier?"
"Prehaps. However had you been told, we felt the telling would influence your wanting or not to seek out that which is yours by birthright."
"So." Working my way around it. "You wanted me to want to be queen, to want to live in this other place, because I'd discovered all the fun things for myself?"
"Yes."
"But now you've told me."
"I have."
"So now you've gone and broken the rules."
"Yes." Wu-Quikhf smiles, I giggle. "That is because your brother is not playing fair."
"So. Um." Standing now, having slipped on grey pants and joggers, plus a white vest top and grey bra. Mud stained black Shoes. I've joined Wu-Quikhf at my door. "Are there fun things?"
"Yes." Walking up into the air, coming to perch on my shoulder, small claws digging in for purchase. "Trust in me, Melantha, and in those who came seeking you out before me. We wish you no harm. And," another wide mouthed grin, his whole body briefly disappearing, leaving just that white smile hanging above my shoulder, "there is, definitely, much fun to be had."
"Okay." I nod as Wu-Quikhf shades back into being. "Only." Pointing at my door. "You know they lock us in at night."
-
tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 491
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Ooh, nice twist to the tale....even if it is difficult to keep track of what everyone is called
You are telling a marvelous story. I an really looking forward to reading it further. So many possibilities.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
011.
The door to my room. Solid wood. Thick. Enough to protect against fire, and to contain even the most determined of would be escapees.
I don't even need to try the handle, of course it's locked.
There's a small window, toughened glass no doubt, set at eye level. Through this I can see a small section of corridor, mostly in shadow.
On my shoulder the dragon, Wu-Quikhf, actually real would you believe it, despite the fact of my being a patient in a real madhouse lending much weight to his being all in the mind, stretches. Walks from my left shoulder across behind my neck to my right. I'm pretty sure if he were made up I wouldn't be able to feel his claws.
"So. Um." Looking at the door, then at the dragon. "In the story, how did I escape?"
"Well." A pause. Thinking? "I do not suppose you recall, or otherwise simply know, how to open doors yet?"
"It's locked." I point. "It's always locked."
"Yes. Quite. I was referring however to those doors used to travel further then simply into the next room."
"Oh."
"No." I shake my head. "You told me I could, that the mark on my leg makes it so?"
"Yes. The ability is," Wu-Quikhf tuts, puffs a small wad of grey smoke out of one nostril, "should be, second nature to you. However your mind is currently not your own, Melantha."
"Because of my brother," all this I've only just learned, so it feels as though I keep needing to check, "right?"
"Indeed. It will take time to put yourself back in order. Until then." Another puff of smoke, aimed at the door. "A door is simply a door."
"So." Because I'm drawing blanks. "How are we escaping?"
"Do not fear." Something in his tone has me looking. Wu-Quikhf smiles back at me. "Something," waving at the door, at the glass panel set in the door, "some opportunity, always presents itself."
"Some...?" Still looking at the dragon, fascinated to see his small purple body shade out to invisibility, leaving only a grinning crescent mouth.
"Huh?" Confused, but only for a moment, then I catch sight of movement, and turn. There's an orderly outside my room. Her face, all curly dyed blue hair and thick rimmed black glasses, is pressed up against the window, eyes wide at what she no doubt just saw vanish from my shoulder.
With a clunk my door opens. "Inmate," putting a foot into my room, brief glance at the wall beside my door, "Jude. Why aren't yo...."
"Actually," I try on a smile, glancing to the side myself, finding no smile, or dragon, on my shoulder, "it's Melantha."
"What?"
"My name." I giggle. "Only. The sheet is wrong you see. A dragon came and told me everything."
"A dragon?"
Oops.
I like to be helpful. But prehaps telling the truth, even though she almost certainly saw the dragon too, isn't useful this time. Because now I sound crazy.
Ha.
"Jude."
"Melantha."
"Jude."
"No. Really." Shaking my head. Helpful. "I'm Melantha."
"Look." Shaking her head back at me. "Jude."
"Mel...."
"No." Holding up a hand. "Listen. Ju...." She huffs. "Melantha then." A giggle, sounding half crazy herself. "Whatever. Got an inmate over in twelve who wants to be called fucking Casey Junior, so why not. Thing is. I've got another six of these damn night shifts. And this place is spooky enough, without." Waving a hand at my shoulder. "Whatever that was."
"You mean Wihf-Quicker?"
"Huh?"
"Oh. Um." I almost, I'm sure I do, hear a tut from somewhere in the room. "Sorry. Um. The dragon?"
"Yes. Now. Here's what's going to happen." Pointing at herself. "I'm going to pretend I didn't see a dragon. And." Pointing at me. "You. Jude. Are going to climb back into bed and I'll strap you back in."
"Actually, had you been listening, her name is Melantha."
Wu-Quikhf shades back in, and he's, somehow, grown huge. Tail no doubt somewhere behind me, long serpentine body curving around the room, hugging the wall, to my right. His head, large now, has just appeared over the orderlies right shoulder, pushed far enough forward that she can't help but see all those large sharp teeth.
Poor girl.
"Ohshit." Slurred together, made into one word, and then she's off.
She runs left, away from that grinning mouth, and would've run straight into Wu-Quikhf's scaly body, save that he shrinks, becoming smaller before my wondering eyes, becoming cat like again. Without his body to cushion her headlong blind charge the orderly strikes the brick wall of my room at full speed, fast enough to bounce off. "Oouuff." She goes, all the wind being knocked from her lungs, and then she crumples, landing as an unconscious heap on the floor.
"Oops." I giggle. "Yes. Well." Grinning too, wandering over to prod at the orderly with a clawed foot. She doesn't move, only groans, but softly. "As I was saying," Wu-Quikhf gestures at the still open doorway, "something will present itself."
"So, now we leave?"
"Yes." Nodding. "I should think so."
"But. Um." Prodding the orderly myself. "What about her though?"
"What about her?"
"Well." I think. "Shouldn't we," a shrug, "you know."
"I do not. Know." Walking up into the air, bringing his small face level with mine. "What is it we should be doing with this lady?"
"Well." Grinning, unable to help a small giggle escaping. "Usually, when people escape, they tie up the guards."
"Do they now?" A raised eyebrow, but he's grinning too. "Very well."
"Tell me, Melantha."
"Yes, Wifhl-Quirkr?"
"Hmmm."
"Sorry."
"Yes, we will simply have to conceive of something easier for you."
"Okay." Nodding. "I'll think of something."
"Very well. But, anyway," sat on my shoulder again, as I stand in the doorway, Wu-Quikhf points back into the room, at my bed, "tell me. Was it necessary to strip her?"
With my straps all snapped and broken I couldn't bind the orderly- Jemma, according to her name tag -exactly as I'd been. But I got her close enough. The ratchet mechanism under the bed, which allows each strap to be lengthened or shortened as need dictates, was easy to find. So with Jemma on my bed it was simply a matter of lengthening each strap to fit. Each is wrapped and knotted around a seperate limb, and each then cranked back to a tightness that will deny her an easy escape. And throughout it all, the moving her, binding her, even using strips of my tee- handily torn up by Wu-Quikhf once I removed it -plus her bright pink thong, to gag her. Even stripping her. Throughout all this she's done no more then groan, with the occasional shift of limbs like someone asleep, dreaming.
"Well." I point, smiling at what I can see. Unlike me Jemma has some meat on her. A curvy twelve if I had to guess, muscled arms and legs. B cups though, looking more like small bee stings now she's laid down. A single tattoo, a snake, curls around her right leg. She isn't struggling, isn't yet awake, but I can imagine that snake writhing and flexing as her body strains and twists against my handiwork.
I'd really like to see that snake flex.
"Tell me then," Wu-Quikhf, words shaking me from a pleasant daydream, "why is it she must be naked?"
"She isn't naked." I point. "I left her shoes on."
As we leave I'm giggling, smiling, though I couldn't say why.
We see nobody else, the dragon riding my shoulder and I. Nobody until we're outside.
"Jude?" Dr McAvoy, a puzzled frown on her pretty face, climbs from the drivers seat of a sporty black BMW coupe I'd been about to walk past. "What are you doing outside here after lights out?"
"Well. Um." She's sweating, I notice, bottle of water in hand. Grey black sports bra and small dark blue short shorts are patchy with proof of her recent workout. They cling to her trim frame. Has she been running? "Doctor...."
"Were you," a smile leaks into the frown, turning her mouth up at the edges, "were you off to see the Admiral?"
"Oh." What Admiral? Both she and Wu-Quikhf have mentioned an Admiral to me. Do I come from a long line of seamen? "No. I was." At which point I remember there's a dragon on my shoulder, and close my mouth, darting my head to look.
But my shoulder is empty.
"Jude?" Prompting me, taking a step closer, the scent of her wafts across the gap, stirring something inside. "I was," I try on a grin of my own, "I was escaping. Actually."
"Really?" Not scowling. Not reaching for her phone to 'call this in'. Not even shouting for help to apprehend me. Instead Dr McAvoy grins, steps closer again, close enough that we could, with only a slight lean in on both sides, hug. Should we want.
I kind of do. Want to.
"Another tattoo?"
"Oh." Which, her noticing the outer edges of the flame on my left breast, as I glance down, seeing it too, reminds me that I'm not wearing a top over my bra. Jemma is, sort of. "Yes." I nod, tracing a finger over the outermost flame tip. "Um. I think it means I can breathe fire?"
"Is that right?" Nodding, her tone a mixture of serious and teasing. Dr McAvoy reaches out, her right hand bridging the gap as she too traces the visible parts of my flames. "Do you think, Jude," looking me in the eye, licking her lips, "that you could show me?"
"Um." Trying not to look, trying to keep my gaze on Dr McAvoy's. Trying to not give away the fact I've just seen a wide mouth, full of sharp teeth, appear behind her, above her head. The mouth easily as wide as the good doctor is tall. "I'm not sure," I have to pause to swallow, because her hand, tracing idle patterns around the edges of my breast and cleavage, feels really good, "I don't think I know how yet."
"Well." Retrieving her hand, but keeping her smile. "I imagine breathing fire is a skill that takes time to master."
"Yes." Even as I hear a deep chuckle from behind Dr McAvoy, loud enough to make her frown briefly. Luckily she doesn't turn, doesn't see the mouth, or the puff of dirty grey smoke that appears just above it, pluming off to one side.
"I offered to help you, before."
"Yes." I nod. "Does that mean you'll let me leave, Doctor?"
"I could drive you?" Pointing behind her, to her still idling car, the drivers door still open and parking lights on. "Um." I'm not even sure where it is I'm going. "Well...."
"Or maybe," a cheeky grin has surfaced, full of promised mischief, "you could always tie me up, and just steal it."
Behind her a head, almost the same size as the BMW it towers over, shades in behind that curving slash of mouth. Wu-Quikhf nods. Winks. It seems the dragon has a plan.
"Okay." My small nervous smile is dwarfed by Dr McAvoy's happy grin. "But. Oh."
"What?"
"Well. Um." Feeling almost embarrassed. "I don't have anything to tie you up with."
"Ah." Turning, and I flinch, but Wu-Quikhf has already vanished. Or moved. Or shrunk. And so all that's behind Dr McAvoy is her car. She walks back to the trunk, me trailing behind. "I. Um." Gesturing into her now open boot, looking slightly embarrassed herself, but also excited. "I actually do. Have things for tying that is."
And she does. Enough 'things' to tie up a whole class of pretty blonde doctors.
She insists on being naked. "It's really not necessary." I reply, shaking my head to stop it from nodding instead. Because yes, I would love for her to be naked. Right now. Please.
"It's no trouble." Already peeling off her sports bra, tossing it with abandon onto the ground, which I don't see. The bounce of her firm C cups, as they come free of the tight but sweaty spandex, has me mesmerised. Dr McAvoy giggles. "After all, Jude. Fair's fair."
Huh? Does that mean she's already seen my...? My birthmark yes, since she commented before. But. More?
"No." Shaking my head, Dr McAvoy pauses, kneeling, hands working on the laces of her left running shoe. "You can," I giggle, though am still clueless why, "leave your shoes on. Please Doctor."
"Really?" Eyebrow quirked, as is her mouth. But she complies, standing up, leaving shoes on but shimmying shorts and a thong down off her rounded butt, down toned legs and off. These too are kicked away with no apparent thought they might ever be needed again.
"Its Phoebe." Stood with hands on hips, facing me, smiling most likely at how wide my eyes have gone at the sight of all her toned and trimmed flesh. Her all over save for three small white triangles tan. "My name."
"Oh." I must look her in the eyes. I must not stare. "Um." Her nipples are pierced, a silver ring in each. "Phoebe." I nod. "I'm Melantha."
"Melantha." Tasting the name, nodding, approving. We stand there smiling at each other like two idiots. It never occurs to me that, as kidnapper, this is my show to move along.
"Well, Melantha." Turning, clasping hands together behind her, palm to palm. "Prehaps you'd better tie me up now?"
"Yes. Oh. Um." There's a tattoo, on her back, skeletal wings in black stretching from shoulder to shoulder, connected in the middle by a busty girl, who the wings grow out of. The girl, done in black, has her wrists bound before her, her ankles bound together, and is ballgagged. The ball is red. "Of course. Um." Struggling to focus. "Phoebe." Shaking my head, wondering if Wu-Quikhf is even still here since I've now not seen nor heard him for what feels like a half hour, I set about the task at hand.
I don't use rope, though there's plenty, but I've no knowledge of knots. How do you bind wrists together in a way that won't simply loosen and fall apart at the first instance of a captives struggle?
Instead, since there's a ready supply of them too, along with some varying length leather belts, I use cable ties. Because they're simple, and easy to tighten.
And. Clearly. Phoebe is very into this. Into being tied. By me? Into being a victim enough to offer up suggestions along the way.
I secure her wrists first. "Tighter." Called out over her shoulder, with a grin I can hear but not see. So, having found what I presumed was the limit, I yank the tie, managing to close the loop by at least six more clicks. It looks awfully uncomfortable, very pinchy, but Phoebe nods. Happy. "Elbows next."
"And just who here is tying who?"
"Well," turning to face me, her tied wrists pushing her chest out at me ever so slightly, she grins, "you're tying me of course." A wink. "This time."
"This time?" Half confusion at something I don't remember, half excitement. Is she promising something more? "I don't...."
"Elbows." Cutting me off, turning back around. I hear Wu-Quikhf, finally making himself known, chuckle from off in the shadows, which makes me smile.
Back to work.
After the elbows, because clearly she's calling the shots, Phoebe lays herself down on the cool tarmac of the carpark, and has me bind her into what is, she informs me, a hogtie. Ankles. Knees. Thighs. All are pinched very tightly by cables, with a final one to pull ankles and elbows together. At this her body is forced into a tight C shape, one that lifts her chest and head up off the floor. She's held there by everything I've done.
"A gag?" She offers, grinning up at me, having fun despite her obvious discomfort, her grunts whenever she tries to move. "Gag?"
"There's a red ballgag," nodding, unable to point, "somewhere in there."
"Hold on, I'll...." I'm peering into the boot, and there's Wu-Quikhf, tiny as a cat, and out of sight of Phoebe. He's holding the ballgag out to me, smiling. He winks, prehaps knowing more then a dragon should. I blush, but take the gag, and return to a helpless Phoebe.
"Could I ask." Licking her lips, I'm hunkered down beside her, gag poised before her mouth. She looks up at me. "If I could ask?"
"Yes?" This proximity, to her. Naked. Helpless. It's doing things to my insides. Making me into one big tingle. All I can do is whisper. "Yes?"
"I thought." She swallows, whispering too. "Maybe. A kiss?"
"A kiss."
"Yes." She nods, our faces, our mouths, are close enough anyway, and I can still smell the sweet scent of her, of her sweat, and maybe something more, filling the air. "Before you abandon me." She tries to smile, to make it a joke, but instead has to swallow again. "I'd like to kiss you. First. Ju...." A small shake of her head. "Melantha. I'd like a kiss." Looking me in the eyes, our gazes locked up as a spark, a jolt of arousal, passes between us. "Please."
It's a good kiss. As patchy as my memory is, I don't think I've ever had better.
After which Phoebe willingly allows herself to be gagged, tightly. And I leave her there, rolling around in the middle of designated parking bay 9F, looking like about the cutest thing I ever saw.
"You like her."
Shading into being on the passenger seat, still cat sized, grinning as usual, Wu-Quikhf startles me to the point I stall Phoebe's fancy sports car.
"Well." Going red. "Um."
"Do not be embarrassed Melantha. Everyone needs to have someone."
"Well. I."
"And she is an attractive female."
"Um. Well."
"Human though." Said with a shake of the head, dismissive. I giggle. Shrug. And tell the truth. "Yes. I do like her." I think. "I think. But...."
"But?"
"But." I huff out a breath. "We need to leave."
"Yes."
"So I won't see her again?"
"Who can say?"
"Oh." Was that a question. Who can say, really?
"Can you operate this?"
"Um." I manage to restart the engine, finally locating the key nestled on, I feel, the wrong side. Honestly, I've never driven, that I remember anyway. "I'm not sure." Turning to regard Wu-Quikhf. "I don't suppose you...?"
"No." Shaking his head. "But," a grin, "I can fly. And. I will carry you Melantha."
"You will?"
"Yes."
Climbing from the car, I give Phoebe a quick wave. Her answering moan carries faintly to me across the distance as she wriggles and squirms her bound body on the tarmac. She doesn't look mad, I think. Prehaps I'm not the only person who enjoys being bound?
Off into the darkness, towards the back fence, away from people. Away from prying eyes. And then, suddenly, Wu-Quikhf's bulk is beside me, his purple serpentine body easily the size you'd expect of a fully grown dragon.
I climb up, am helped up, to sit at the base of his neck, arms wrapped around.
I feel muscles bunch, flex, and then we're airborne, walking up into the night sky.
"You can. Um." Looking around, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of wind buffeting me. "How do we travel?"
"Like this."
The darkness rushes in, making the stars wink out, vanish. Together Wu-Quikhf and I are swallowed by an entirely different kind of rabbit hole.
The door to my room. Solid wood. Thick. Enough to protect against fire, and to contain even the most determined of would be escapees.
I don't even need to try the handle, of course it's locked.
There's a small window, toughened glass no doubt, set at eye level. Through this I can see a small section of corridor, mostly in shadow.
On my shoulder the dragon, Wu-Quikhf, actually real would you believe it, despite the fact of my being a patient in a real madhouse lending much weight to his being all in the mind, stretches. Walks from my left shoulder across behind my neck to my right. I'm pretty sure if he were made up I wouldn't be able to feel his claws.
"So. Um." Looking at the door, then at the dragon. "In the story, how did I escape?"
"Well." A pause. Thinking? "I do not suppose you recall, or otherwise simply know, how to open doors yet?"
"It's locked." I point. "It's always locked."
"Yes. Quite. I was referring however to those doors used to travel further then simply into the next room."
"Oh."
"No." I shake my head. "You told me I could, that the mark on my leg makes it so?"
"Yes. The ability is," Wu-Quikhf tuts, puffs a small wad of grey smoke out of one nostril, "should be, second nature to you. However your mind is currently not your own, Melantha."
"Because of my brother," all this I've only just learned, so it feels as though I keep needing to check, "right?"
"Indeed. It will take time to put yourself back in order. Until then." Another puff of smoke, aimed at the door. "A door is simply a door."
"So." Because I'm drawing blanks. "How are we escaping?"
"Do not fear." Something in his tone has me looking. Wu-Quikhf smiles back at me. "Something," waving at the door, at the glass panel set in the door, "some opportunity, always presents itself."
"Some...?" Still looking at the dragon, fascinated to see his small purple body shade out to invisibility, leaving only a grinning crescent mouth.
"Huh?" Confused, but only for a moment, then I catch sight of movement, and turn. There's an orderly outside my room. Her face, all curly dyed blue hair and thick rimmed black glasses, is pressed up against the window, eyes wide at what she no doubt just saw vanish from my shoulder.
With a clunk my door opens. "Inmate," putting a foot into my room, brief glance at the wall beside my door, "Jude. Why aren't yo...."
"Actually," I try on a smile, glancing to the side myself, finding no smile, or dragon, on my shoulder, "it's Melantha."
"What?"
"My name." I giggle. "Only. The sheet is wrong you see. A dragon came and told me everything."
"A dragon?"
Oops.
I like to be helpful. But prehaps telling the truth, even though she almost certainly saw the dragon too, isn't useful this time. Because now I sound crazy.
Ha.
"Jude."
"Melantha."
"Jude."
"No. Really." Shaking my head. Helpful. "I'm Melantha."
"Look." Shaking her head back at me. "Jude."
"Mel...."
"No." Holding up a hand. "Listen. Ju...." She huffs. "Melantha then." A giggle, sounding half crazy herself. "Whatever. Got an inmate over in twelve who wants to be called fucking Casey Junior, so why not. Thing is. I've got another six of these damn night shifts. And this place is spooky enough, without." Waving a hand at my shoulder. "Whatever that was."
"You mean Wihf-Quicker?"
"Huh?"
"Oh. Um." I almost, I'm sure I do, hear a tut from somewhere in the room. "Sorry. Um. The dragon?"
"Yes. Now. Here's what's going to happen." Pointing at herself. "I'm going to pretend I didn't see a dragon. And." Pointing at me. "You. Jude. Are going to climb back into bed and I'll strap you back in."
"Actually, had you been listening, her name is Melantha."
Wu-Quikhf shades back in, and he's, somehow, grown huge. Tail no doubt somewhere behind me, long serpentine body curving around the room, hugging the wall, to my right. His head, large now, has just appeared over the orderlies right shoulder, pushed far enough forward that she can't help but see all those large sharp teeth.
Poor girl.
"Ohshit." Slurred together, made into one word, and then she's off.
She runs left, away from that grinning mouth, and would've run straight into Wu-Quikhf's scaly body, save that he shrinks, becoming smaller before my wondering eyes, becoming cat like again. Without his body to cushion her headlong blind charge the orderly strikes the brick wall of my room at full speed, fast enough to bounce off. "Oouuff." She goes, all the wind being knocked from her lungs, and then she crumples, landing as an unconscious heap on the floor.
"Oops." I giggle. "Yes. Well." Grinning too, wandering over to prod at the orderly with a clawed foot. She doesn't move, only groans, but softly. "As I was saying," Wu-Quikhf gestures at the still open doorway, "something will present itself."
"So, now we leave?"
"Yes." Nodding. "I should think so."
"But. Um." Prodding the orderly myself. "What about her though?"
"What about her?"
"Well." I think. "Shouldn't we," a shrug, "you know."
"I do not. Know." Walking up into the air, bringing his small face level with mine. "What is it we should be doing with this lady?"
"Well." Grinning, unable to help a small giggle escaping. "Usually, when people escape, they tie up the guards."
"Do they now?" A raised eyebrow, but he's grinning too. "Very well."
"Tell me, Melantha."
"Yes, Wifhl-Quirkr?"
"Hmmm."
"Sorry."
"Yes, we will simply have to conceive of something easier for you."
"Okay." Nodding. "I'll think of something."
"Very well. But, anyway," sat on my shoulder again, as I stand in the doorway, Wu-Quikhf points back into the room, at my bed, "tell me. Was it necessary to strip her?"
With my straps all snapped and broken I couldn't bind the orderly- Jemma, according to her name tag -exactly as I'd been. But I got her close enough. The ratchet mechanism under the bed, which allows each strap to be lengthened or shortened as need dictates, was easy to find. So with Jemma on my bed it was simply a matter of lengthening each strap to fit. Each is wrapped and knotted around a seperate limb, and each then cranked back to a tightness that will deny her an easy escape. And throughout it all, the moving her, binding her, even using strips of my tee- handily torn up by Wu-Quikhf once I removed it -plus her bright pink thong, to gag her. Even stripping her. Throughout all this she's done no more then groan, with the occasional shift of limbs like someone asleep, dreaming.
"Well." I point, smiling at what I can see. Unlike me Jemma has some meat on her. A curvy twelve if I had to guess, muscled arms and legs. B cups though, looking more like small bee stings now she's laid down. A single tattoo, a snake, curls around her right leg. She isn't struggling, isn't yet awake, but I can imagine that snake writhing and flexing as her body strains and twists against my handiwork.
I'd really like to see that snake flex.
"Tell me then," Wu-Quikhf, words shaking me from a pleasant daydream, "why is it she must be naked?"
"She isn't naked." I point. "I left her shoes on."
As we leave I'm giggling, smiling, though I couldn't say why.
We see nobody else, the dragon riding my shoulder and I. Nobody until we're outside.
"Jude?" Dr McAvoy, a puzzled frown on her pretty face, climbs from the drivers seat of a sporty black BMW coupe I'd been about to walk past. "What are you doing outside here after lights out?"
"Well. Um." She's sweating, I notice, bottle of water in hand. Grey black sports bra and small dark blue short shorts are patchy with proof of her recent workout. They cling to her trim frame. Has she been running? "Doctor...."
"Were you," a smile leaks into the frown, turning her mouth up at the edges, "were you off to see the Admiral?"
"Oh." What Admiral? Both she and Wu-Quikhf have mentioned an Admiral to me. Do I come from a long line of seamen? "No. I was." At which point I remember there's a dragon on my shoulder, and close my mouth, darting my head to look.
But my shoulder is empty.
"Jude?" Prompting me, taking a step closer, the scent of her wafts across the gap, stirring something inside. "I was," I try on a grin of my own, "I was escaping. Actually."
"Really?" Not scowling. Not reaching for her phone to 'call this in'. Not even shouting for help to apprehend me. Instead Dr McAvoy grins, steps closer again, close enough that we could, with only a slight lean in on both sides, hug. Should we want.
I kind of do. Want to.
"Another tattoo?"
"Oh." Which, her noticing the outer edges of the flame on my left breast, as I glance down, seeing it too, reminds me that I'm not wearing a top over my bra. Jemma is, sort of. "Yes." I nod, tracing a finger over the outermost flame tip. "Um. I think it means I can breathe fire?"
"Is that right?" Nodding, her tone a mixture of serious and teasing. Dr McAvoy reaches out, her right hand bridging the gap as she too traces the visible parts of my flames. "Do you think, Jude," looking me in the eye, licking her lips, "that you could show me?"
"Um." Trying not to look, trying to keep my gaze on Dr McAvoy's. Trying to not give away the fact I've just seen a wide mouth, full of sharp teeth, appear behind her, above her head. The mouth easily as wide as the good doctor is tall. "I'm not sure," I have to pause to swallow, because her hand, tracing idle patterns around the edges of my breast and cleavage, feels really good, "I don't think I know how yet."
"Well." Retrieving her hand, but keeping her smile. "I imagine breathing fire is a skill that takes time to master."
"Yes." Even as I hear a deep chuckle from behind Dr McAvoy, loud enough to make her frown briefly. Luckily she doesn't turn, doesn't see the mouth, or the puff of dirty grey smoke that appears just above it, pluming off to one side.
"I offered to help you, before."
"Yes." I nod. "Does that mean you'll let me leave, Doctor?"
"I could drive you?" Pointing behind her, to her still idling car, the drivers door still open and parking lights on. "Um." I'm not even sure where it is I'm going. "Well...."
"Or maybe," a cheeky grin has surfaced, full of promised mischief, "you could always tie me up, and just steal it."
Behind her a head, almost the same size as the BMW it towers over, shades in behind that curving slash of mouth. Wu-Quikhf nods. Winks. It seems the dragon has a plan.
"Okay." My small nervous smile is dwarfed by Dr McAvoy's happy grin. "But. Oh."
"What?"
"Well. Um." Feeling almost embarrassed. "I don't have anything to tie you up with."
"Ah." Turning, and I flinch, but Wu-Quikhf has already vanished. Or moved. Or shrunk. And so all that's behind Dr McAvoy is her car. She walks back to the trunk, me trailing behind. "I. Um." Gesturing into her now open boot, looking slightly embarrassed herself, but also excited. "I actually do. Have things for tying that is."
And she does. Enough 'things' to tie up a whole class of pretty blonde doctors.
She insists on being naked. "It's really not necessary." I reply, shaking my head to stop it from nodding instead. Because yes, I would love for her to be naked. Right now. Please.
"It's no trouble." Already peeling off her sports bra, tossing it with abandon onto the ground, which I don't see. The bounce of her firm C cups, as they come free of the tight but sweaty spandex, has me mesmerised. Dr McAvoy giggles. "After all, Jude. Fair's fair."
Huh? Does that mean she's already seen my...? My birthmark yes, since she commented before. But. More?
"No." Shaking my head, Dr McAvoy pauses, kneeling, hands working on the laces of her left running shoe. "You can," I giggle, though am still clueless why, "leave your shoes on. Please Doctor."
"Really?" Eyebrow quirked, as is her mouth. But she complies, standing up, leaving shoes on but shimmying shorts and a thong down off her rounded butt, down toned legs and off. These too are kicked away with no apparent thought they might ever be needed again.
"Its Phoebe." Stood with hands on hips, facing me, smiling most likely at how wide my eyes have gone at the sight of all her toned and trimmed flesh. Her all over save for three small white triangles tan. "My name."
"Oh." I must look her in the eyes. I must not stare. "Um." Her nipples are pierced, a silver ring in each. "Phoebe." I nod. "I'm Melantha."
"Melantha." Tasting the name, nodding, approving. We stand there smiling at each other like two idiots. It never occurs to me that, as kidnapper, this is my show to move along.
"Well, Melantha." Turning, clasping hands together behind her, palm to palm. "Prehaps you'd better tie me up now?"
"Yes. Oh. Um." There's a tattoo, on her back, skeletal wings in black stretching from shoulder to shoulder, connected in the middle by a busty girl, who the wings grow out of. The girl, done in black, has her wrists bound before her, her ankles bound together, and is ballgagged. The ball is red. "Of course. Um." Struggling to focus. "Phoebe." Shaking my head, wondering if Wu-Quikhf is even still here since I've now not seen nor heard him for what feels like a half hour, I set about the task at hand.
I don't use rope, though there's plenty, but I've no knowledge of knots. How do you bind wrists together in a way that won't simply loosen and fall apart at the first instance of a captives struggle?
Instead, since there's a ready supply of them too, along with some varying length leather belts, I use cable ties. Because they're simple, and easy to tighten.
And. Clearly. Phoebe is very into this. Into being tied. By me? Into being a victim enough to offer up suggestions along the way.
I secure her wrists first. "Tighter." Called out over her shoulder, with a grin I can hear but not see. So, having found what I presumed was the limit, I yank the tie, managing to close the loop by at least six more clicks. It looks awfully uncomfortable, very pinchy, but Phoebe nods. Happy. "Elbows next."
"And just who here is tying who?"
"Well," turning to face me, her tied wrists pushing her chest out at me ever so slightly, she grins, "you're tying me of course." A wink. "This time."
"This time?" Half confusion at something I don't remember, half excitement. Is she promising something more? "I don't...."
"Elbows." Cutting me off, turning back around. I hear Wu-Quikhf, finally making himself known, chuckle from off in the shadows, which makes me smile.
Back to work.
After the elbows, because clearly she's calling the shots, Phoebe lays herself down on the cool tarmac of the carpark, and has me bind her into what is, she informs me, a hogtie. Ankles. Knees. Thighs. All are pinched very tightly by cables, with a final one to pull ankles and elbows together. At this her body is forced into a tight C shape, one that lifts her chest and head up off the floor. She's held there by everything I've done.
"A gag?" She offers, grinning up at me, having fun despite her obvious discomfort, her grunts whenever she tries to move. "Gag?"
"There's a red ballgag," nodding, unable to point, "somewhere in there."
"Hold on, I'll...." I'm peering into the boot, and there's Wu-Quikhf, tiny as a cat, and out of sight of Phoebe. He's holding the ballgag out to me, smiling. He winks, prehaps knowing more then a dragon should. I blush, but take the gag, and return to a helpless Phoebe.
"Could I ask." Licking her lips, I'm hunkered down beside her, gag poised before her mouth. She looks up at me. "If I could ask?"
"Yes?" This proximity, to her. Naked. Helpless. It's doing things to my insides. Making me into one big tingle. All I can do is whisper. "Yes?"
"I thought." She swallows, whispering too. "Maybe. A kiss?"
"A kiss."
"Yes." She nods, our faces, our mouths, are close enough anyway, and I can still smell the sweet scent of her, of her sweat, and maybe something more, filling the air. "Before you abandon me." She tries to smile, to make it a joke, but instead has to swallow again. "I'd like to kiss you. First. Ju...." A small shake of her head. "Melantha. I'd like a kiss." Looking me in the eyes, our gazes locked up as a spark, a jolt of arousal, passes between us. "Please."
It's a good kiss. As patchy as my memory is, I don't think I've ever had better.
After which Phoebe willingly allows herself to be gagged, tightly. And I leave her there, rolling around in the middle of designated parking bay 9F, looking like about the cutest thing I ever saw.
"You like her."
Shading into being on the passenger seat, still cat sized, grinning as usual, Wu-Quikhf startles me to the point I stall Phoebe's fancy sports car.
"Well." Going red. "Um."
"Do not be embarrassed Melantha. Everyone needs to have someone."
"Well. I."
"And she is an attractive female."
"Um. Well."
"Human though." Said with a shake of the head, dismissive. I giggle. Shrug. And tell the truth. "Yes. I do like her." I think. "I think. But...."
"But?"
"But." I huff out a breath. "We need to leave."
"Yes."
"So I won't see her again?"
"Who can say?"
"Oh." Was that a question. Who can say, really?
"Can you operate this?"
"Um." I manage to restart the engine, finally locating the key nestled on, I feel, the wrong side. Honestly, I've never driven, that I remember anyway. "I'm not sure." Turning to regard Wu-Quikhf. "I don't suppose you...?"
"No." Shaking his head. "But," a grin, "I can fly. And. I will carry you Melantha."
"You will?"
"Yes."
Climbing from the car, I give Phoebe a quick wave. Her answering moan carries faintly to me across the distance as she wriggles and squirms her bound body on the tarmac. She doesn't look mad, I think. Prehaps I'm not the only person who enjoys being bound?
Off into the darkness, towards the back fence, away from people. Away from prying eyes. And then, suddenly, Wu-Quikhf's bulk is beside me, his purple serpentine body easily the size you'd expect of a fully grown dragon.
I climb up, am helped up, to sit at the base of his neck, arms wrapped around.
I feel muscles bunch, flex, and then we're airborne, walking up into the night sky.
"You can. Um." Looking around, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of wind buffeting me. "How do we travel?"
"Like this."
The darkness rushes in, making the stars wink out, vanish. Together Wu-Quikhf and I are swallowed by an entirely different kind of rabbit hole.
This is much more fun than Lewis Carroll. Please do continue.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Oh, it'd be so nice if Phoebe could find her way to 'Wonderland' as well... after all, Melantha would probably enjoy having someone to play with, right? I guess we'll see.
-
tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 491
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Mysterious, references to great works, entertaining, funny, well written and a string of tied up girls.....wonderful!
[mention]GreyLord[/mention] good to see you on the board, thanks for checking out my story.
Thanks too to everyone else for viewing/commenting so far
Thanks too to everyone else for viewing/commenting so far
012.
"I'm going back." I tell my three companions, breaking the comfortable silence we've been relaxing in for the past half hour. "Back? What?" Admiral Nay shakes his head, lifts up his tricorn and scratches underneath before replacing the hat.
He really is an Admiral you know. How strange.
I've been here for almost three weeks now. Resting. Exploring. Learning. My brain, whilst still patchy in places, now at least feels whole. For the first time in what could be years- that part, the time frame of my brothers treachery, is still lost to me -I feel like myself.
What I don't feel like though is a queen.
Which is fine. Because I'm not queen in any sense that you'd expect. My only subjects are the trees, and the various animals that live within this vast woodland. A woodland which, I'm told, encompasses the entire planet. Or realm. From boundary to boundary anyway. All is trees. I'm the only person here, the only human. Though, and again this is something I've been told but not yet seen, occasionally a hiker, or someone otherwise lost, will manage to stumble across the borders and into this woodland.
Being queen mostly means that, if there is an issue: like someone lost, it's on me to make things right.
I can do that. Now that I know how to open the other kinds of door, I can wander freely between worlds. Just like Mum.
Which point brings me back to.
"I'm going back." Repeating myself, almost like a challenge.
We're sat on my balcony, or roof terrace is prehaps a better description. My home, my castle, is like a large grey stone tower in the medieval style. It rises up out of the surrounding woodland like something reaching towards the never present sun. There's light here, everywhere, but no actual sun to provide such. Inside the castle, tower, I have a bed, an open fire for cooking, and a wardrobe full of clothes that, luckily, fit. I chose not to ask how they were acquired. A staircase spirals its way up the towers inside, hugging the wall, all the way to the top. There a trapdoor lets out onto the roof. A roof with actual battlements. And several comfortable chairs.
Sat across from me, the four of us forming a loose circle, are my friends. A dragon. A squirrel. And a spider.
Wu-Quikhf, the dragon, is asleep. But I see his eyelid flicker- faker -at my words. He heard me, but chooses not to answer. For now.
The spider, Dakvishlcocodl, four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name, Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver, wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe, friend to and eater of rabbits. Turns to regard me with eight unblinking eyes. But she too remains silent, for now.
No such luck with the squirrel. Admiral Nay shakes his head again. "Not a good plan young lady. What. Shouldn't ever go backwards."
"Even boats have a reverse gear." I tease, smiling. Wu-Quikhf chuckles, quietly, but loud enough for the Admiral to hear. "Yes. Well." He doesn't like being caught out, poor Admiral, makes him flustered. "Not the point, Melantha."
"Then what is the point, Admiral?"
"The point." Dakvishlcocodl, four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name, Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver, wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe, friend to and eater of rabbits. Her soft Russian sounding voice a welcome counterpart to the Admiral's more gruff old English. "Is that no good can come from you returning to that world."
"Exactly." Admiral Nay points at her, then at me. "Sense, you see. From a spider." Which earns him a glare, which he ignores. I giggle.
"I just." Spreading my arms wide, feeling my way through my thoughts. "My brother did all this. I just can't let it lie."
"Justice is it?" The Admiral nods. "Got to put things right do you?"
"Admiral." Shrugging. "I've got to try."
"Well then," looking around the circle, receiving a nod from Dakvishlcocodl, four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name, Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver, wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe, friend to and eater of rabbits. But not from Wu-Quikhf, still feigning sleep. "Well. Melantha." The Admiral regards me. "When do we leave?"
"Not we." Pointing at my chest. "Me."
"No no no." Vigorous shaking of the head, so much so his little hat almost falls off. "Bad form. What. No solo missions."
"Yes."
"Melantha."
"Admiral." I smile, at all of them. "I know you would help." Pitching my voice louder. "All of you." Wu-Quikhf smirks, but doesn't stir. "But. This. This is on me. This is something I want to do."
"But." Staring at the floor, then up at me. "Alone?"
"Yes. Admiral. Just me, and," a small shiver goes through me at the thought, for all I remember nearly nothing of him, he, clearly, isn't a good man, "and my brother."
And. Decision made. Why not now?
Back downstairs, my companions gone, I stand before a door. To most it's a nonsense door, opening only onto the towers inner wall, going nowhere. But to me, this door can take me, amongst other destinations, back to a place I used to call home.
"No." Shaking my head, looking at a patch of empty air beside me. "I said alone."
"But you are alone, Melantha." Wu-Quikhf's deep male voice drifts out of the empty air. "I, certainly, do not see any others with you."
"Being invisible doesn't hide you from me," I tap at the edges of my flame tattoo as it climbs tendrils off my left breast, reaching towards my neck, "we are joined now. Wu-Quikhf. Remember."
"Yes." A smile shades into being up in the air, and I adjust my line of vision higher. I had thought him on the floor. "Your pronunciation is improving."
"Thank you." I grin. In the beginning I struggled with the strange sounding names. But repetition makes most things easier.
"Still though. You can't come."
"But someone must accompany you."
"No."
"Yes." Now the body shades in behind that cheshire smile, cat sized, luckily. At full size, if the biggest I've seen even is full sized, he'd fill the towers ground floor. "You need not be alone in this quest, Melantha."
"It isn't a quest." But my lips do quirk in a smile. Briefly. "Just. I'm only going to talk with him."
"Then I shall remain silent."
"You shall remain here." I point, at the floor, on this side of the still closed door. For emphasis.
"But."
"No." Shaking my head, reaching out to, gently, pat and stroke down that long serpentine neck. "This is just something I need to do by myself."
"You want to see her again," giving me an amused and knowing smile, "don't you?"
"Well." I know I'm blushing, remembering the last time I saw Dr McAvoy. Phoebe. Naked save for her running shoes, hogtied- by me -and squriming around on the floor.
And thinking that I remember the kiss. The promise it had held of more, if only I'd been able to stay.
"Yes." Smiling back at Wu-Quikhf, nodding. "I want to see her again. But." Holding up a finger. "That isn't why you can't come."
"I am sworn to protect you though." Stating facts at me now. Because, apparently, dragons have protected queens, my bloodline stretching back, for some time. That's why I'm linked to Wu-Quikhf. He's like part bodyguard part faithful steed part friend. But. "Not this time my friend."
"Hmm." We lock eyes for a moment, then he nods. "Very well, Melantha, please be careful though."
"I shall."
"And." One hand on the door, the voice startles me. I thought he'd gone. But, no, feeling for him now, turning to look, and there's that ever present grin halfway up my stairs. "And." I make a gesture. "And what?"
"I was only going to say," the tone is teasing, "prehaps this time you'll actually get to touch her breasts. Instead of just staring at them like a small girl child at a sweet shop on pocket money day."
"Out." I point, but can't help a giggle escaping. Wu-Quikhf chuckles back, grin fading out even as I sense him ascending to the roof.
The door opens out onto a corridor, one my patched up memory tells me is, definitely, on the first floor of the home I grew up in. The home my brother now owns. Thick red carpet with yellow trim is matched with walls that are dark polished wood up to roughly waist height, then painted white up to an equally white ceiling. Paintings and framed photo images scatter the walls, and close by is a bookcase which, instead of books, holds just over a dozen expensive looking anime statues. Every one is female, and every female is skinny, with an impossibly large chest and not enough clothes. Most of the characters are armed, with swords being the weapon of choice. The only one I recognise is Supergirl, but only due to the blue uniform with the red and yellow symbol. I'm pretty sure Supergirl isn't a double F cup though, nor is her skirt short enough to expose a skimpy white thong.
I've managed to smash over half of them, flinging them against walls, or at, then through, windows, before I've made enough noise to summon my brother.
"Abbey. Babe." I hear the voice before I see the man. "You awake," an overweight mans snort of laughter, "at last?" A pause, I can almost picture him stopping to breathe, and shake my head. "Hey." Calling out, but getting closer. Just for fun I throw another anime girl, a red head, who bounces down the corridor, off the wall and around the corner. "Babe!" A mixture of surprise and anger. "Seriously! What the fuck did Rias ever do to you? Are you really th...."
At which point, coming around the corner- finally -he spots me. Both his voice, and his forward motion, drying up as he does.
"Who?" He hasn't changed, my bigger little brother. His tee, white Vans today, still stretches across a large belly. His beard is longer I think? "Hello brother." I grin, seeing comprehension hit his face, mixed with disbelief. "You?" The question made into an accusation, as is the next. "How?" I giggle, giving him a twirl, then a bow. "I decided grey wasn't really my colour."
When did I last see him? My brain tells me it's been years, but there are still some holes, as I've said. Most of these holes concern recent events. So. I've always been skinny to the point of appearing underfed. Always had the same long curling raven hair. But the tattoo's are new, to him surely? Plus my clothes of course.
I've a vague notion that last time I saw him I was dressed in Hidden Hills grey, whenever that was. Maybe he came to visit me, to peer into my room? To gloat? What I'm wearing now though is definitely me. I think? Tight black leggings, shiny due to a wet look style, hug my legs, sitting low to allow the waist band of my white thong to ride up visibly. The leggings are tucked into chunky brown loosely laced work boots. Up top, over a white push up bra, I'm wearing a pale almost sky blue vest top. Plenty of cleavage.
Okay. I'll admit it. I'm dressing up for Phoebe.
"Jude." Shaking his head. I shake mine back. "No brother. No false names. No more lies."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning let's cut the crap," I swipe a hand, dismissive, "starting with my name."
"Okay then." A small smile, there and then gone. But he nods. "Melantha."
"Better." I nod back.
"Why are you here?"
"For you." I point. "For justice."
"Justice." He laughs. "Good luck with that." A smirk. "There isn't a cop or lawyer in a hundred miles that I don't own."
"Who said I needed any help," giving him back his smirk, "to take you down?"
"Huh?"
Fire. Wu-Quikhf's gift. My forth tattoo. A dragons weapon in my hands. Literally. With the right focus, and a gesture somewhat like passing a basketball two handed, the ball of flame I've created spins off down the corridor, striking poor Rias as she dangles from my brothers plump hand. With a shocked yelp he drops her, jumping back, staring as the resin burns, turning the surrounding carpet black.
"What the actual fuck?" Eyes flicking from me, looking pretty pleased with myself, to what's now a very expensive model of a puddle. The carpet is just beginning, in a couple of places, to smoulder. "I told you, brother." Shaking the tension out of my arms. "I don't need any help to deal with you."
"You're going to burn me?" Mouth open, shock. I laugh. "No." Though I did consider simply ending him, by fire or some other means. But, I found myself lacking the killer instinct. A good thing, right? "Nobody dies, brother."
"Then what?"
"I came here for your confession."
"Fat lot of fucking good that'll do you." A laugh. "All the lawyers are m...."
"All of the lawyers are yours." I parrot him, enjoying the scowl he gives me for attempting to copy his smug little bastard tone. I wave a hand again, dismissive. "Let me worry about what I do with it. But. I want the truth, from you." I point. "Now."
There really isn't any plan, for what I might do with his confession, written, or recorded, or just verbal. Just me and him as it were. Might be that the truth will be enough. I'll leave, return to my tower, and he can keep all this money he so obviously craved. Craves still I imagine. Or, maybe I will take him down. He deserves no less. For my parents sakes I should see justice done. I should see the evil wanker locked away, preferably somewhere far worse then Hidden Hills.
He's still smiling. Which, really, if I was completely whole, and paying attention, not letting thoughts of a happy reunion with Dr Phoebe drift into my thoughts, should've been enough to clue me in.
But. Instead. I don't realise I'm being outflanked. Not until, all at once, I feel a strangers breath against the back of my neck, at the same time as both wrists are snared by loops of rope, tugged suddenly tight, bringing my arms together behind my back.
"Fucks sake babe." Shaking his head, my brother runs a sweaty hand back through his hair. "Took your time."
"Sorry babe." A girls voice, soft, not as posh as mine or his, sounds in my ear. "Got her though."
"Yes you did." Nodding. Laughing, they both are. "Good work."
"I'm going back." I tell my three companions, breaking the comfortable silence we've been relaxing in for the past half hour. "Back? What?" Admiral Nay shakes his head, lifts up his tricorn and scratches underneath before replacing the hat.
He really is an Admiral you know. How strange.
I've been here for almost three weeks now. Resting. Exploring. Learning. My brain, whilst still patchy in places, now at least feels whole. For the first time in what could be years- that part, the time frame of my brothers treachery, is still lost to me -I feel like myself.
What I don't feel like though is a queen.
Which is fine. Because I'm not queen in any sense that you'd expect. My only subjects are the trees, and the various animals that live within this vast woodland. A woodland which, I'm told, encompasses the entire planet. Or realm. From boundary to boundary anyway. All is trees. I'm the only person here, the only human. Though, and again this is something I've been told but not yet seen, occasionally a hiker, or someone otherwise lost, will manage to stumble across the borders and into this woodland.
Being queen mostly means that, if there is an issue: like someone lost, it's on me to make things right.
I can do that. Now that I know how to open the other kinds of door, I can wander freely between worlds. Just like Mum.
Which point brings me back to.
"I'm going back." Repeating myself, almost like a challenge.
We're sat on my balcony, or roof terrace is prehaps a better description. My home, my castle, is like a large grey stone tower in the medieval style. It rises up out of the surrounding woodland like something reaching towards the never present sun. There's light here, everywhere, but no actual sun to provide such. Inside the castle, tower, I have a bed, an open fire for cooking, and a wardrobe full of clothes that, luckily, fit. I chose not to ask how they were acquired. A staircase spirals its way up the towers inside, hugging the wall, all the way to the top. There a trapdoor lets out onto the roof. A roof with actual battlements. And several comfortable chairs.
Sat across from me, the four of us forming a loose circle, are my friends. A dragon. A squirrel. And a spider.
Wu-Quikhf, the dragon, is asleep. But I see his eyelid flicker- faker -at my words. He heard me, but chooses not to answer. For now.
The spider, Dakvishlcocodl, four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name, Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver, wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe, friend to and eater of rabbits. Turns to regard me with eight unblinking eyes. But she too remains silent, for now.
No such luck with the squirrel. Admiral Nay shakes his head again. "Not a good plan young lady. What. Shouldn't ever go backwards."
"Even boats have a reverse gear." I tease, smiling. Wu-Quikhf chuckles, quietly, but loud enough for the Admiral to hear. "Yes. Well." He doesn't like being caught out, poor Admiral, makes him flustered. "Not the point, Melantha."
"Then what is the point, Admiral?"
"The point." Dakvishlcocodl, four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name, Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver, wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe, friend to and eater of rabbits. Her soft Russian sounding voice a welcome counterpart to the Admiral's more gruff old English. "Is that no good can come from you returning to that world."
"Exactly." Admiral Nay points at her, then at me. "Sense, you see. From a spider." Which earns him a glare, which he ignores. I giggle.
"I just." Spreading my arms wide, feeling my way through my thoughts. "My brother did all this. I just can't let it lie."
"Justice is it?" The Admiral nods. "Got to put things right do you?"
"Admiral." Shrugging. "I've got to try."
"Well then," looking around the circle, receiving a nod from Dakvishlcocodl, four hundred twenty-fourth to bare that name, Shadow Spinner and Hole Diver, wraith spider of the Whispering woods tribe, friend to and eater of rabbits. But not from Wu-Quikhf, still feigning sleep. "Well. Melantha." The Admiral regards me. "When do we leave?"
"Not we." Pointing at my chest. "Me."
"No no no." Vigorous shaking of the head, so much so his little hat almost falls off. "Bad form. What. No solo missions."
"Yes."
"Melantha."
"Admiral." I smile, at all of them. "I know you would help." Pitching my voice louder. "All of you." Wu-Quikhf smirks, but doesn't stir. "But. This. This is on me. This is something I want to do."
"But." Staring at the floor, then up at me. "Alone?"
"Yes. Admiral. Just me, and," a small shiver goes through me at the thought, for all I remember nearly nothing of him, he, clearly, isn't a good man, "and my brother."
And. Decision made. Why not now?
Back downstairs, my companions gone, I stand before a door. To most it's a nonsense door, opening only onto the towers inner wall, going nowhere. But to me, this door can take me, amongst other destinations, back to a place I used to call home.
"No." Shaking my head, looking at a patch of empty air beside me. "I said alone."
"But you are alone, Melantha." Wu-Quikhf's deep male voice drifts out of the empty air. "I, certainly, do not see any others with you."
"Being invisible doesn't hide you from me," I tap at the edges of my flame tattoo as it climbs tendrils off my left breast, reaching towards my neck, "we are joined now. Wu-Quikhf. Remember."
"Yes." A smile shades into being up in the air, and I adjust my line of vision higher. I had thought him on the floor. "Your pronunciation is improving."
"Thank you." I grin. In the beginning I struggled with the strange sounding names. But repetition makes most things easier.
"Still though. You can't come."
"But someone must accompany you."
"No."
"Yes." Now the body shades in behind that cheshire smile, cat sized, luckily. At full size, if the biggest I've seen even is full sized, he'd fill the towers ground floor. "You need not be alone in this quest, Melantha."
"It isn't a quest." But my lips do quirk in a smile. Briefly. "Just. I'm only going to talk with him."
"Then I shall remain silent."
"You shall remain here." I point, at the floor, on this side of the still closed door. For emphasis.
"But."
"No." Shaking my head, reaching out to, gently, pat and stroke down that long serpentine neck. "This is just something I need to do by myself."
"You want to see her again," giving me an amused and knowing smile, "don't you?"
"Well." I know I'm blushing, remembering the last time I saw Dr McAvoy. Phoebe. Naked save for her running shoes, hogtied- by me -and squriming around on the floor.
And thinking that I remember the kiss. The promise it had held of more, if only I'd been able to stay.
"Yes." Smiling back at Wu-Quikhf, nodding. "I want to see her again. But." Holding up a finger. "That isn't why you can't come."
"I am sworn to protect you though." Stating facts at me now. Because, apparently, dragons have protected queens, my bloodline stretching back, for some time. That's why I'm linked to Wu-Quikhf. He's like part bodyguard part faithful steed part friend. But. "Not this time my friend."
"Hmm." We lock eyes for a moment, then he nods. "Very well, Melantha, please be careful though."
"I shall."
"And." One hand on the door, the voice startles me. I thought he'd gone. But, no, feeling for him now, turning to look, and there's that ever present grin halfway up my stairs. "And." I make a gesture. "And what?"
"I was only going to say," the tone is teasing, "prehaps this time you'll actually get to touch her breasts. Instead of just staring at them like a small girl child at a sweet shop on pocket money day."
"Out." I point, but can't help a giggle escaping. Wu-Quikhf chuckles back, grin fading out even as I sense him ascending to the roof.
The door opens out onto a corridor, one my patched up memory tells me is, definitely, on the first floor of the home I grew up in. The home my brother now owns. Thick red carpet with yellow trim is matched with walls that are dark polished wood up to roughly waist height, then painted white up to an equally white ceiling. Paintings and framed photo images scatter the walls, and close by is a bookcase which, instead of books, holds just over a dozen expensive looking anime statues. Every one is female, and every female is skinny, with an impossibly large chest and not enough clothes. Most of the characters are armed, with swords being the weapon of choice. The only one I recognise is Supergirl, but only due to the blue uniform with the red and yellow symbol. I'm pretty sure Supergirl isn't a double F cup though, nor is her skirt short enough to expose a skimpy white thong.
I've managed to smash over half of them, flinging them against walls, or at, then through, windows, before I've made enough noise to summon my brother.
"Abbey. Babe." I hear the voice before I see the man. "You awake," an overweight mans snort of laughter, "at last?" A pause, I can almost picture him stopping to breathe, and shake my head. "Hey." Calling out, but getting closer. Just for fun I throw another anime girl, a red head, who bounces down the corridor, off the wall and around the corner. "Babe!" A mixture of surprise and anger. "Seriously! What the fuck did Rias ever do to you? Are you really th...."
At which point, coming around the corner- finally -he spots me. Both his voice, and his forward motion, drying up as he does.
"Who?" He hasn't changed, my bigger little brother. His tee, white Vans today, still stretches across a large belly. His beard is longer I think? "Hello brother." I grin, seeing comprehension hit his face, mixed with disbelief. "You?" The question made into an accusation, as is the next. "How?" I giggle, giving him a twirl, then a bow. "I decided grey wasn't really my colour."
When did I last see him? My brain tells me it's been years, but there are still some holes, as I've said. Most of these holes concern recent events. So. I've always been skinny to the point of appearing underfed. Always had the same long curling raven hair. But the tattoo's are new, to him surely? Plus my clothes of course.
I've a vague notion that last time I saw him I was dressed in Hidden Hills grey, whenever that was. Maybe he came to visit me, to peer into my room? To gloat? What I'm wearing now though is definitely me. I think? Tight black leggings, shiny due to a wet look style, hug my legs, sitting low to allow the waist band of my white thong to ride up visibly. The leggings are tucked into chunky brown loosely laced work boots. Up top, over a white push up bra, I'm wearing a pale almost sky blue vest top. Plenty of cleavage.
Okay. I'll admit it. I'm dressing up for Phoebe.
"Jude." Shaking his head. I shake mine back. "No brother. No false names. No more lies."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning let's cut the crap," I swipe a hand, dismissive, "starting with my name."
"Okay then." A small smile, there and then gone. But he nods. "Melantha."
"Better." I nod back.
"Why are you here?"
"For you." I point. "For justice."
"Justice." He laughs. "Good luck with that." A smirk. "There isn't a cop or lawyer in a hundred miles that I don't own."
"Who said I needed any help," giving him back his smirk, "to take you down?"
"Huh?"
Fire. Wu-Quikhf's gift. My forth tattoo. A dragons weapon in my hands. Literally. With the right focus, and a gesture somewhat like passing a basketball two handed, the ball of flame I've created spins off down the corridor, striking poor Rias as she dangles from my brothers plump hand. With a shocked yelp he drops her, jumping back, staring as the resin burns, turning the surrounding carpet black.
"What the actual fuck?" Eyes flicking from me, looking pretty pleased with myself, to what's now a very expensive model of a puddle. The carpet is just beginning, in a couple of places, to smoulder. "I told you, brother." Shaking the tension out of my arms. "I don't need any help to deal with you."
"You're going to burn me?" Mouth open, shock. I laugh. "No." Though I did consider simply ending him, by fire or some other means. But, I found myself lacking the killer instinct. A good thing, right? "Nobody dies, brother."
"Then what?"
"I came here for your confession."
"Fat lot of fucking good that'll do you." A laugh. "All the lawyers are m...."
"All of the lawyers are yours." I parrot him, enjoying the scowl he gives me for attempting to copy his smug little bastard tone. I wave a hand again, dismissive. "Let me worry about what I do with it. But. I want the truth, from you." I point. "Now."
There really isn't any plan, for what I might do with his confession, written, or recorded, or just verbal. Just me and him as it were. Might be that the truth will be enough. I'll leave, return to my tower, and he can keep all this money he so obviously craved. Craves still I imagine. Or, maybe I will take him down. He deserves no less. For my parents sakes I should see justice done. I should see the evil wanker locked away, preferably somewhere far worse then Hidden Hills.
He's still smiling. Which, really, if I was completely whole, and paying attention, not letting thoughts of a happy reunion with Dr Phoebe drift into my thoughts, should've been enough to clue me in.
But. Instead. I don't realise I'm being outflanked. Not until, all at once, I feel a strangers breath against the back of my neck, at the same time as both wrists are snared by loops of rope, tugged suddenly tight, bringing my arms together behind my back.
"Fucks sake babe." Shaking his head, my brother runs a sweaty hand back through his hair. "Took your time."
"Sorry babe." A girls voice, soft, not as posh as mine or his, sounds in my ear. "Got her though."
"Yes you did." Nodding. Laughing, they both are. "Good work."
Will she get justice? You are doing so well with this. As always, I'm looking forward to the next installment.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
-
tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 491
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Oh no, is Melantha getting tied again....just when it looked like she'd earned her freedom and her confession from her brother.
Another excellent update - looking forward to the next instalment.
Another excellent update - looking forward to the next instalment.
013.
Abbey. Who else could it be? Surely my brother, despite being richer then most- Dad came from old money, stocks and land -would only have one 'babe'?
Was that why he smiled, earlier, seeing her sneaking, ninja swift and quiet, up behind me?
And now. Now it's all come apart. All my half formed plans at justice.
Unless.
I make a sudden break, pitching my body forwards, from a standing start to running in an instant. Straight at my brother, who yelps and stumbles backwards, hands up as though to ward me off.
I make it five paces.
My wrists, still bound behind me, are jerked from horizontal to near vertical as the rope that binds them together pulls taught, forcing me to either stop and remain standing, or be dragged backwards to fall onto my butt. I choose to stop, twisting my body to look back over my shoulder, seeing.
Rope, trailing back from my bound wrists, bridging the small gap between me and.
I shake my head. Of course he's dating one of his anime statues made real.
A skinny six, but on her what pale flesh I can see looks toned. She's wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, though it's only loosely belted across the front. For my brothers benefit prehaps. A pair of huge rounded breasts, clearly fake, at least F's, are all but spilling from the robes wide parting. She has tattoo's: some kind of script on her lower right leg, a large staring eye, surrounded by thorny branches that stretch in all directions, sits perched between her breasts, whilst a black silhouetted shark swims on the right side of her neck. To match these she has snakebites, twin silver hoops in her lip. Curling ginger hair cascades down around her head, falling over shoulders. It's still shower damp.
The girl, Abbey, grins at me, gives a cheeky wave.
"Do you mind," I give my bound arms a shake, "only. It's Abbey, right?"
"Not when I'm on stage." She winks, giving her chest a shake, making me smile. "Well. Abbey." She seems nice, fun would be a good word. "Here's the thing." I nod down the corridor. "I've got a brother sister thing going on a...."
"Sister?" Looking from me to my brother. "Babe, you never told me you had family?"
"Ha." Shaking my head. "Anyway, Abbey. What I'm saying is I really need to have some words. Private words. With my brother. Do you think prehaps you could untie me?"
"Well...." She's giving it some thought, whilst down the corridor my brother is all head shakes and no no no arm gestures. "Just, like." I think. "Five minutes. Go and find some clothes."
"Five minutes huh?"
"Maybe seven." I conceed, with a shrug. Abbey smiles, I smile back. "He can be quite stubborn sometimes."
"Can't he just." Nodding, like we're two girls together. "Babe." My brother, clearly not liking what he's seeing, stepping closer. "You can't." Gesturing at me. "I mean. She's fucking nuts."
"Really." The smile becomes one of amusement. "Are you?"
"Am I...?"
"Nuts." She does the crazy gesture beside her head, one finger twirling. "Is it fun?"
"Yes." Thinking of my friends, the squirrel the spider and the dragon. "Quite possibly the most fun I've ever had."
"Well...?"
"Oh. Um." I grin. "Jude."
"Well. Jude." I hear, off to the other side, my brother bark out a single laugh at my humour. "Sorry." A shrug and a grimace, as though she really is. "But. If my babe says no, then you stay tied."
"I see." Thinking, weighing up options, angles. I look at Abbey, still smiling. "Not open to negotiation?" I drop my voice to a whisper, give her a private wink. "Bribes?"
"What's going on babe?" My brother, clearly not liking all the giggling, as Abbey giggles again, that we're doing. Not liking his no longer locked up but possibly still crazy sister cosying up with his, whatever Abbey actually is to him. "Um." Abbey, looking from me to my brother, and she really does look like she's thinking about switching sides. I smile, to hide the fact I'm not actually sure what bribe I could possibly offer.
My brother beats me to it anyway.
"Babe." Called out across the space between him and us. "Just. Fucks sake and take her away would you."
"To play?" Her tone is hopeful, my brother grins. Nods. "Sure."
"Hey." Feeling the tide go suddenly against me. "Don't I get a...."
"No. 'Jude.'" Using my pretend name, the name he invented, mockingly. "You don't. Right babe."
Not even a question. And, looking at Abbey, I can see only an eagerness to play with her newly acquired toy. Me.
She must've had the ballgag in her pocket, how else could it wind up on my face so quickly. And, though she lets go of my wrist rope in order to strap the gag in place, running away never occurs to me. By this point my mind is far too distracted by sudden thoughts of more ropes, and memories of how much fun being helpless can be. Stupid of me really, but, by the time the gag is secured, I'm actually happy to play along, following willingly as I'm led away from my brother.
Who has his phone out as we leave.
We wind up in a bedroom. Not, from memory, mine, nor my brothers or parents. A guest room then. Basic furniture: a wooden double bed, a wardrobe, a comfy two seater sofa angled for a view of the bed.
Shutting the door behind us Abbey retrieves a sports bag from the wardrobe, which, once opened, reveals itself to be full of rope.
I really should've run.
There's no way I'm even going to try and escape, not when doing so would mean missing out on a nice tight tie up.
"He likes to watch me struggle." Abbey tells me with a grin, seeing my gaze on the sofa, answering what she perceives is the question I'm unable to ask. "Is he really your brother?"
"Mmf." I nod. She giggles again, sorting rope into piles. Lots of rope. Enough to give me butterflies because, just where on me is it all supposed to go? "Well." Finally taking a length in hand, walking around behind me, I catch Abbey's smile as she dissappears from view. "It'll be nice to be the one watching for a change," giving my butt a pat, "don't you think Jude?"
"Mmffpf." Nodding. Abbey laughs. Mutters. "Fuck me, you really are crazy girl."
She's very good at this, I realise, about halfway through.
My elbows are tied first, the yanked rope forcing them together, jerking my chest forwards as Abbey tugs at the knots, tightening everything she's doing to me. Making sure.
Staying behind, out of sight, my legs are bound next. Rope at ankles and knees, actually two different lengths bracketing my skinny knees, all three combining to pin my legs together, making me very unstable. A point Abbey proves moments later as, coming around in front and back into view, she gives me a cheeky smile, then pushes me backwards.
"Mmmpphggffgfff." I scream, falling, arms flailing uselessly behind me as I do, unable to cushion or catch. In the next instant I tense, awaiting the crash of hard wooden floor.
But, as Abbey laughs, instead I land on the bed, my trussed body bouncing slightly on the springy mattress.
"Sit up then." Covering her mouth, getting herself back under control. "Mmf mfppfg."
"Well." Almost laughing again at the sight I clearly make, attempting to lever my upper body off the bed by way of bouncing and squirming. "You've got to at least try."
"Mmf fffpggf." I bounce some more, showing her. "Ffpphff mmffpff fmffmgp." I am trying. "Mmfmmmmm."
"Okay." Shaking her head. "Okay. I've got you."
Rope around my chest. Above and below my still clothed breasts, which are squeezed by the rope, and then popped free of my top and bra by Abbey. "Wow." Fingering my left breast, one hand rolling the nipple between thumb and finger whilst the other traces the pattern of my flames. "Mmmffppffmfg." Eyes closed, head tilted back, dampness between my legs at her touch. How long is it since I last had sex? "Amazing work." Still tracing. "And." I gasp as my breast is squeezed. "Nice tits too Jude."
"Ffmmpf."
More rope on my chest. My now exposed breasts are wrapped up in a figure eight style, after which, pushing me down and rolling me over, Abbey completes the hogtie.
My ankles are tied off to my elbows, forcing my body into a curve. And my hair, somehow, is tied off to my ankles too, holding my head up off the mattress.
As a finishing touch Abbey manhandles my bound body until I'm laid side on to the sofa, then jams a wand shaped vibrator down my trousers, set to a low buzzing that has me instantly moaning and squirming as the head nestles up against my pussy. Forcing myself to focus, which is hard- because I don't think I've had an orgasm of any kind in years and I can feel one approaching at speed -I see Abbey settle herself down on the sofa opposite me, a smile on her face and a wand similar to the one currently working me over in her hand.
With a flourish she unknots the cord on her bathrobe, allowing the front to fall open as she spreads her long toned legs wide, completely exposing her nakedness to me.
"Well then Jude," a wink, a lick of her lips, "aren't you going to struggle for me?"
Eventually Abbey moves from the sofa to the bed, her own vibrator discarded, all of her focus on me. Laying down beside me she pulls my trousers and thong down, replacing my vibrator with her hands, and later her mouth.
I don't even notice when she climbs off me, leaves. I'm too lost in the glow of satisfaction, even the ropes aren't painful now, though by this point I've probably been tied into this strict hogtie over an hour.
But that voice, that brings me back. With a nasty bump.
"Good afternoon Melantha."
"Mmfmp." Eyes springing open, finding the warden of Hidden Hills stood before me, dressed in a dark blue suit. He smiles down at me, and I see that, in his hand is a syringe.
Fuck.
And this tight tie, all this time spent restrained and bent into an uncomfortable shape, has robbed me of any energy I might otherwise have for struggling. I can't even attempt to struggle.
Nor can I escape. Yes, I can walk between worlds, I have the skill. But. I need a door. That's how I travel: through doors. Somewhere, maybe, is someone or something lucky enough to open portals at will. But I need a door to open a door.
"It's good to have you back." The warden nods, bends down, injects me.
Darkness rushes in from all sides, pulling me under.
Abbey. Who else could it be? Surely my brother, despite being richer then most- Dad came from old money, stocks and land -would only have one 'babe'?
Was that why he smiled, earlier, seeing her sneaking, ninja swift and quiet, up behind me?
And now. Now it's all come apart. All my half formed plans at justice.
Unless.
I make a sudden break, pitching my body forwards, from a standing start to running in an instant. Straight at my brother, who yelps and stumbles backwards, hands up as though to ward me off.
I make it five paces.
My wrists, still bound behind me, are jerked from horizontal to near vertical as the rope that binds them together pulls taught, forcing me to either stop and remain standing, or be dragged backwards to fall onto my butt. I choose to stop, twisting my body to look back over my shoulder, seeing.
Rope, trailing back from my bound wrists, bridging the small gap between me and.
I shake my head. Of course he's dating one of his anime statues made real.
A skinny six, but on her what pale flesh I can see looks toned. She's wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, though it's only loosely belted across the front. For my brothers benefit prehaps. A pair of huge rounded breasts, clearly fake, at least F's, are all but spilling from the robes wide parting. She has tattoo's: some kind of script on her lower right leg, a large staring eye, surrounded by thorny branches that stretch in all directions, sits perched between her breasts, whilst a black silhouetted shark swims on the right side of her neck. To match these she has snakebites, twin silver hoops in her lip. Curling ginger hair cascades down around her head, falling over shoulders. It's still shower damp.
The girl, Abbey, grins at me, gives a cheeky wave.
"Do you mind," I give my bound arms a shake, "only. It's Abbey, right?"
"Not when I'm on stage." She winks, giving her chest a shake, making me smile. "Well. Abbey." She seems nice, fun would be a good word. "Here's the thing." I nod down the corridor. "I've got a brother sister thing going on a...."
"Sister?" Looking from me to my brother. "Babe, you never told me you had family?"
"Ha." Shaking my head. "Anyway, Abbey. What I'm saying is I really need to have some words. Private words. With my brother. Do you think prehaps you could untie me?"
"Well...." She's giving it some thought, whilst down the corridor my brother is all head shakes and no no no arm gestures. "Just, like." I think. "Five minutes. Go and find some clothes."
"Five minutes huh?"
"Maybe seven." I conceed, with a shrug. Abbey smiles, I smile back. "He can be quite stubborn sometimes."
"Can't he just." Nodding, like we're two girls together. "Babe." My brother, clearly not liking what he's seeing, stepping closer. "You can't." Gesturing at me. "I mean. She's fucking nuts."
"Really." The smile becomes one of amusement. "Are you?"
"Am I...?"
"Nuts." She does the crazy gesture beside her head, one finger twirling. "Is it fun?"
"Yes." Thinking of my friends, the squirrel the spider and the dragon. "Quite possibly the most fun I've ever had."
"Well...?"
"Oh. Um." I grin. "Jude."
"Well. Jude." I hear, off to the other side, my brother bark out a single laugh at my humour. "Sorry." A shrug and a grimace, as though she really is. "But. If my babe says no, then you stay tied."
"I see." Thinking, weighing up options, angles. I look at Abbey, still smiling. "Not open to negotiation?" I drop my voice to a whisper, give her a private wink. "Bribes?"
"What's going on babe?" My brother, clearly not liking all the giggling, as Abbey giggles again, that we're doing. Not liking his no longer locked up but possibly still crazy sister cosying up with his, whatever Abbey actually is to him. "Um." Abbey, looking from me to my brother, and she really does look like she's thinking about switching sides. I smile, to hide the fact I'm not actually sure what bribe I could possibly offer.
My brother beats me to it anyway.
"Babe." Called out across the space between him and us. "Just. Fucks sake and take her away would you."
"To play?" Her tone is hopeful, my brother grins. Nods. "Sure."
"Hey." Feeling the tide go suddenly against me. "Don't I get a...."
"No. 'Jude.'" Using my pretend name, the name he invented, mockingly. "You don't. Right babe."
Not even a question. And, looking at Abbey, I can see only an eagerness to play with her newly acquired toy. Me.
She must've had the ballgag in her pocket, how else could it wind up on my face so quickly. And, though she lets go of my wrist rope in order to strap the gag in place, running away never occurs to me. By this point my mind is far too distracted by sudden thoughts of more ropes, and memories of how much fun being helpless can be. Stupid of me really, but, by the time the gag is secured, I'm actually happy to play along, following willingly as I'm led away from my brother.
Who has his phone out as we leave.
We wind up in a bedroom. Not, from memory, mine, nor my brothers or parents. A guest room then. Basic furniture: a wooden double bed, a wardrobe, a comfy two seater sofa angled for a view of the bed.
Shutting the door behind us Abbey retrieves a sports bag from the wardrobe, which, once opened, reveals itself to be full of rope.
I really should've run.
There's no way I'm even going to try and escape, not when doing so would mean missing out on a nice tight tie up.
"He likes to watch me struggle." Abbey tells me with a grin, seeing my gaze on the sofa, answering what she perceives is the question I'm unable to ask. "Is he really your brother?"
"Mmf." I nod. She giggles again, sorting rope into piles. Lots of rope. Enough to give me butterflies because, just where on me is it all supposed to go? "Well." Finally taking a length in hand, walking around behind me, I catch Abbey's smile as she dissappears from view. "It'll be nice to be the one watching for a change," giving my butt a pat, "don't you think Jude?"
"Mmffpf." Nodding. Abbey laughs. Mutters. "Fuck me, you really are crazy girl."
She's very good at this, I realise, about halfway through.
My elbows are tied first, the yanked rope forcing them together, jerking my chest forwards as Abbey tugs at the knots, tightening everything she's doing to me. Making sure.
Staying behind, out of sight, my legs are bound next. Rope at ankles and knees, actually two different lengths bracketing my skinny knees, all three combining to pin my legs together, making me very unstable. A point Abbey proves moments later as, coming around in front and back into view, she gives me a cheeky smile, then pushes me backwards.
"Mmmpphggffgfff." I scream, falling, arms flailing uselessly behind me as I do, unable to cushion or catch. In the next instant I tense, awaiting the crash of hard wooden floor.
But, as Abbey laughs, instead I land on the bed, my trussed body bouncing slightly on the springy mattress.
"Sit up then." Covering her mouth, getting herself back under control. "Mmf mfppfg."
"Well." Almost laughing again at the sight I clearly make, attempting to lever my upper body off the bed by way of bouncing and squirming. "You've got to at least try."
"Mmf fffpggf." I bounce some more, showing her. "Ffpphff mmffpff fmffmgp." I am trying. "Mmfmmmmm."
"Okay." Shaking her head. "Okay. I've got you."
Rope around my chest. Above and below my still clothed breasts, which are squeezed by the rope, and then popped free of my top and bra by Abbey. "Wow." Fingering my left breast, one hand rolling the nipple between thumb and finger whilst the other traces the pattern of my flames. "Mmmffppffmfg." Eyes closed, head tilted back, dampness between my legs at her touch. How long is it since I last had sex? "Amazing work." Still tracing. "And." I gasp as my breast is squeezed. "Nice tits too Jude."
"Ffmmpf."
More rope on my chest. My now exposed breasts are wrapped up in a figure eight style, after which, pushing me down and rolling me over, Abbey completes the hogtie.
My ankles are tied off to my elbows, forcing my body into a curve. And my hair, somehow, is tied off to my ankles too, holding my head up off the mattress.
As a finishing touch Abbey manhandles my bound body until I'm laid side on to the sofa, then jams a wand shaped vibrator down my trousers, set to a low buzzing that has me instantly moaning and squirming as the head nestles up against my pussy. Forcing myself to focus, which is hard- because I don't think I've had an orgasm of any kind in years and I can feel one approaching at speed -I see Abbey settle herself down on the sofa opposite me, a smile on her face and a wand similar to the one currently working me over in her hand.
With a flourish she unknots the cord on her bathrobe, allowing the front to fall open as she spreads her long toned legs wide, completely exposing her nakedness to me.
"Well then Jude," a wink, a lick of her lips, "aren't you going to struggle for me?"
Eventually Abbey moves from the sofa to the bed, her own vibrator discarded, all of her focus on me. Laying down beside me she pulls my trousers and thong down, replacing my vibrator with her hands, and later her mouth.
I don't even notice when she climbs off me, leaves. I'm too lost in the glow of satisfaction, even the ropes aren't painful now, though by this point I've probably been tied into this strict hogtie over an hour.
But that voice, that brings me back. With a nasty bump.
"Good afternoon Melantha."
"Mmfmp." Eyes springing open, finding the warden of Hidden Hills stood before me, dressed in a dark blue suit. He smiles down at me, and I see that, in his hand is a syringe.
Fuck.
And this tight tie, all this time spent restrained and bent into an uncomfortable shape, has robbed me of any energy I might otherwise have for struggling. I can't even attempt to struggle.
Nor can I escape. Yes, I can walk between worlds, I have the skill. But. I need a door. That's how I travel: through doors. Somewhere, maybe, is someone or something lucky enough to open portals at will. But I need a door to open a door.
"It's good to have you back." The warden nods, bends down, injects me.
Darkness rushes in from all sides, pulling me under.
Fantastic writing, RopeBunny. Poor Melantha, she just hasn't learned that there is a time for play and a time for business. Now she is deep in the kimchi once again. But with more skills now.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
I still hope for a happy ending for poor Jude.
-
tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 491
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Outstanding. Twists, turns, knots and more
014.
My head hurts. And, also, I can't move.
Laid on my back, eyes closed, my limbs feel stretched out. Something around each ankle and wrist, something soft yet solid, holding me in an X shape.
I risk opening my eyes, needing to see.
The light is dim, sunlight coming through a small window high up on one wall, where wall meets ceiling. The window, far to high to reach, is crisscrossed with thick metal bars anyway. Not even a small creature, a rat or squirrel say, could get through.
Squirrel? What a strange creature to pick from the list.
The rest of the room is bare. There's a door, heavy dull grey metal with a small window set at face height, and the simple metal framed thin mattress fitted bed I'm laid on. Nothing else.
And I have been strapped down. White cuffs are secured- belted and padlocked -around each limb, off of each a strap leads, each of the four vanishing under the bed. I give each limb an experimental tug, finding no slack. Bizarrely, the lack of any freedom, my helplessness, sets a tingling off deep in my belly, and lower down too. Why? Probing my mind, gently because my head hurts like someone spent an hour hitting me with a hammer, I'm shocked to discover how little I can remember.
I don't know where I am.
I don't know who I am.
I don't remember anything, save for some ghost like images that I find it hard to grasp onto for any length of time.
I do remember trees, a woodland that went on forever.
I remember the moon, smiling down on me.
"Hello." I call out, trying to pitch my voice at calm despite the worry of so much I don't know already eating away at me. "Um." Looking down at myself. Tattoo's? I'm dressed in a simple grey white bra and grey boy pants. "Hello." Louder, there must be a world outside the room. People. Someone put me here, surely that same someone is coming to let me out.
"Um. Hello." Did I always sound so posh? "Good morning." Surely someone will come.
"Hello." Right?
A bolt gets thrown, a key turns, the door opens.
A man walks in, strides in, like he owns the place. A trim figure wrapped in a black suit and pale yellow shirt, no tie. Grey hair slicked back, trimmed beard too. He smiles at me, stuffs hands into trouser pockets. "Good morning Jude."
"Jude?"
"Yes." A nod, tapping his head. "Don't worry about the memory loss."
"My name is Jude?"
"Yes."
"Oh." It just doesn't feel like my name though.
"Excuse me, but," I have to ask, "am I in prison?"
"Well." That smile again, his hand seesaws. "Yes and no."
"Oh. Um." My brain is, just, a total failure. "Why?"
"This is Hidden Hills."
"Okay." I nod, but, that wasn't an answer. "But...."
"Here we keep people safe." Gesturing around at my overly- in my opinion -secure circumstances. Still not answering my questions directly. "Here we will take the very best care of you Jude."
"But." He's turned to leave, is stopped by my not quite but almost shouted last word. "Yes?" Turning on the spot, one hand gripping the open door. "Jude."
"I just." Feeling really helpless. Confused. Why aren't I being unstrapped from the bed? "Is this is prison? Did I?" I swallow, not liking the idea but needing to know. "Did I do something bad?"
"Someone will be along to feed you shortly."
"But...." But he's gone, the door swinging closed to self lock with a very final sounding clunk. He doesn't look back.
My life becomes one of routine. A routine in which I get no say.
I'm unstrapped from the bed and bought food. Twice a day I'm bought food, mostly stew with crusty bread or a sandwich and fruit. All day I must stay in my room, only allowed outside its bland four walls for three things.
Every morning I'm taken to the showers, where I wash alone.
When I need the bathroom, there's always a guard within earshot if I bang loudly enough, and long enough, on my door.
And, lastly, once each day I'm taken outside, always under escort, to spend an unknown length of time walking the grounds of this maybe prison that I'm locked away inside.
Nobody I see, and I only ever see guards, will talk to me about anything relevant. I could, and do, have longwinded conversations regarding the weather, but about my circumstances: why I'm here, who exactly I am, will I ever be leaving? I hit brick wall after brick wall of silence.
And, each night without fail, I'm strapped back into bed, always wearing nothing more then a bra and pants.
Why does it say 'Pending Approval' on my left hand? What kind of tattoo even is that?
Today the sun is out. Today is a hot day.
Aside from my underwear, I get to wear grey joggers. Very stylish grey joggers I might add, with writing on the leg. There are hoodies too, but, because it's hot I'm just in joggers and a white vest top.
"Can I. Um" I point at the small copse of trees, sat on a slight rise that we sometimes walk past but never through. "What's that inmate?" Todays guard, looking bored. I point again. "Can I go in there?"
"What." Eying up the treeline with suspicion, as though enemy soldiers lurk just beyond. She looks back at me, I offer up my best hopeful smile. "Please."
"Well," and, as if on cue, her phone buzzes. Taking it out, from one of numerous pockets on her tight fitting black combat trousers, she smiles at the screen. "Sure." Waving me off. "Just, don't make me come in looking for you."
Inside the copse it's cooler, though not by much. Quieter too. I could, almost, pretend to be somewhere else. If I could think of anywhere else that is. Content to just stand, and breathe, I close my eyes. Enjoying the moment.
"Quueeeeeeeen."
"Huh?" Eyes snapping open, looking left, right. But I'm alone. It's just me here, and the trees. "Hello?"
"Quueeeeeeen." Barely above a whisper, whilst at the same time a slight breeze gusts against my face. "Yoooouuuuuuu."
"Hello?" I turn a slow circle. Nope, still alone. "Excuse me. Um. Sorry. But. Only. Who is that?"
"Trreeeeeeee." By luck, maybe, I happen to be looking at a tree with prehaps two dozen orange leaves, and even a half dozen pink, nestled in amongst the green. Despite it not being Autumn yet. I think? As I look two of the orange, and one pink, leaf, tumbles from the tree, gusting right in my face where they proceed to tumble circles around me. "Yoooouuuuuu. Quueeeeen. Frieeeennnnd."
"I'm talking to." Really? "A. Tree?"
"Yeeeesssssss."
"Oh. Um." What do you say, to a tree? "How are you today?"
"Miiisssss. Hoooommme."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Yoouuuuuur. Hooommme toooooo. Quueeeeen."
"Me?" Bollocks. Did the tree, is the tree really calling me a. "Queen?"
"Yeeessssss."
"Really?"
"Quueeeeen. Frieeennnnd."
"I'm a." Prehaps this is some sort of breakdown? I really am crazy. "I'm a friend, to trees?"
"Yeeessssss."
Well. And what is it that friends do? "Can I help you? Um. Mr tree."
"Taaaaaaake. Seeeeeeeed." Something golf ball sized, and brown, bounces down onto the ground, almost tossed at my feet. "Hoooooomme."
"Okay." Bending, I pick the seed up. It's surface is ribbed, cut with a swirling pattern. "Only. Where is home?"
"Uussssssse. Dooooooor."
"But." I shrug. "Which door? Please."
"Quueeeeen. Usssssssess. Dooooor."
"I do?" She does? Am I really a queen? Of what? "I'm sorry. Mr tree. Only." Shaking my head. "I don't remember being a queen. And, I'm not allowed to open any doors here at Hidden Hills."
For so long there's silence. So long that I'm beginning to feel as though the whole thing, were it not for the seed tucked into my bra, was just my imagination. And then. "Eeaaaaaat." Something else drops, is tossed, at my feet, something red like an apple. "And. Reeeeemmember."
Tentatively, I pick it up. It smells delicious.
What do I have to lose? I eat.
"What is it this ti...." Dr McAvoy's voice dries up, her face shifting from surprise to shock to a kind of hunger. Lastly to a nervous smile. As she looks up, finding me stood in her very organised office at Hidden Hills, the closed door at my back. "Well." She half stands, dressed in a white shirt with rolled up sleeves and faded blue jeans, then sits back down behind her desk. "I wasn't aware we had a scheduled appointment. Um. Ju...."
"Pheobe." The smile on my face feels too wide as I look across the room at her, at the closest I've had to someone who loved me- because Abbey doesn't count -in forever.
I remember. Everything.
"Melantha?" Now she does stand, coming around the desk, head cocked to stare at me, her own nervous smile growing slightly. "Is it you? Really you?"
"Yes." I step forwards, taking her hands in mine. "No more Jude. No more patches."
And then I kiss her, stepping in close, sealing her lips with mine even as she opens them to say. I've no idea. And, after a moment, she kisses me back. And the moment is perfect.
"How did you...?" We're sat on her sofa, side by side, close enough our legs are pressed together. My hand on her leg, her hand on mine. I stare into her eyes, steal another kiss. "I'm wondering," I frown slightly, "how much of what I could say you'd actually believe?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well." I shrug. "What if I was to say that, for starters, I walked from my cell to your office, but I didn't use a single corridor."
"Huh?"
"Or." I smile, it's almost like a game in some ways: how silly can I sound whilst actually telling the truth? "What if I told you a tree sacrificed all that it was to return my memory."
"A." A small smile ghosts her pretty face, but, she looks confused. Bless her. "Tree?"
"Or." I sit up that little bit straighter. "I could tell you that, amongst those I name friend, I'm, actually, a queen."
"Are you playing with me?" Still sat close, but looking puzzled, but not letting go of my hand. Phoebe gives me a kiss. "Is this some sort of game?"
"No." Reaching up to stroke her face, she leans into my hand, smiling. "No game pretty lady. Just my crazy life."
"So." Leaning back, giving me a look up and down. "You're saying that," I can see her brain working, like she wants to believe, but her doctorate won't allow it, "all of that stuff. Admiral Nay. Everything. It's all true?"
"Yes." I grin, catching a flash of colour falling from Phoebe's open window down behind her desk, and pitch my voice louder. "Took your time."
"What? Time." Admiral Nay, emerging from behind Phoebe's desk, brushing off his tricorn. "Punctual I am. Always on time."
"Admiral." I nod, feeling Phoebe stiffen beside me, seeing her mouth dropping open. "Melantha." Returning my nod, looking next to Phoebe. "Doctor."
"He's," looking from me to the Admiral, "real?"
"Yes." I grin, giving her a kiss. "I was trying to say. It's all real."
"But it's a squirrel."
"Squirrel? What." Tapping his chest. "No no madam. I, am Admiral Nay."
"But." Phoebe looks at me, I can see she's having trouble. "Is he really an Admiral?"
"He is." I laugh. "He even has a real boat."
"Oh."
"Admiral." I tip him a salute, which he returns smartly, making Phoebe giggle. I smile, and stand, walking over to sit down on the floor beside him. "Why are you here?"
"Came to check on you. Yes."
"Even though I said not to."
"No no." Wagging a finger. "Told not to come. What. Nothing about not following at a safe distance."
"Reinforcements was it Admiral?"
"Exactly." Sounding pleased at my use of military terms, as he always is whenever I play along. "Good thing too. Right." Gesturing at my grey joggers. "See you found trouble Melantha."
"I did." Nodding. "But a tree helped me to remember who I was."
"Tree." Scratching his chin. "Here?"
"Yes."
"Dead now. Yes?"
"Yes." I nod. I hadn't understood, at the time, that in helping me remember the tree was dooming itself. But, as I ate, the leaves turned to dust, and the bark withered. "I have its seed though."
"Really?" I hold up the brown ball. Admiral Nay nods. "Jolly good. We'll see it's returned to the woodland."
"Yes." I hand the seed over. "Can you see to that, please?" I look back over my shoulder. Phoebe, still sat on the sofa, gives me a hopeful smile. "I've got something to take care of here."
"You're leaving." Holding my hands in hers, I'm back on the sofa, side by side. Phoebe looks me in the eyes. "Aren't you?"
"Yes."
"But."
"I can't stay here." Looking around me, then down, I pull a hand free, plucking at the writing on my joggers. "I don't belong here."
"Can I see you again?"
"I'd like that." I smile, we share a kiss. "I'd like you to come with me really."
"Come with you?"
"Yes." I squeeze her hands. "I." Swallowing. "I'm not sure I want to be apart from you. But," shaking my head, "I can't stay here."
"Why though?"
"My brother." I huff. "I just can't."
"He." A pause, thinking, maybe joining the dots. "He put you here?"
"Yes." Shaking my head. "And I can't fight him."
"So he wins?"
"Sometimes the bad guy does."
"But." Kissing me. "Melantha. I don't want you to leave."
"Then come. Be with me. Please."
"I...." Her desk phone rings. With a grimace, Phoebe rises, goes to answer.
"They know you're missing."
"Do they know I'm here?"
"No." A head shake, a grimace. "But I'm supposed to keep an eye out. Ring the warden if I see you."
"Then." I stand. Sigh. "It's time to go."
"But." Phoebe steps towards me, even whilst I move to the door. "You can't go out there."
"I know." I can't help but grin, putting my hand on the door, working my own particular set of special skills. "I wasn't planning on it."
"What the." Phoebe gasps, her hand tightening its grip on mine as she stares through the open doorway. "Actual. Fuck?"
"This." I nod. "This is home."
"It's so green. So." Staring in wonder through the small gap, taking in the woodland beyond. "So alive."
"Come with me." I can, though they're muted, just about hear people beyond her office, coming closer. If they reach the door on their side, touch it, my doorway will close. I'll be caught. "Please."
"I." She wants to. I can see it in her face. Her need to have me approaching, if not already level, to my own need to maintain her in my newly discovered life. "I."
"Please." One foot on the threshold now. At some point we've let go of each other. I reach back out for her. "Come with me. I." Fighting back a tear, forcing a smile. "I need you."
"I." I can see the war going on behind her eyes. Want versus fact. What she feels versus what her brain is, probably, screaming at her can't possibly be an actual portal between worlds.
Phoebe takes a step towards me. Then another. A small smile growing on her face as she reaches out towards me. I smile back.
And then someone bangs on the window, so close to the door. Too close.
"Phoebe." Almost a plea, but she's frozen to the spot, has, if anything, stepped away from me. That bang jarring her back into reality. "I." Shaking her head. "I can't."
Another bang on glass. A muffled shout. I'm out of time. Blowing her a kiss, the sadness on my face echoed by hers, I step through the door, into my woodland.
"Wa...." I hear, as the door closes behind me, shutting my world, me, off from her.
My head hurts. And, also, I can't move.
Laid on my back, eyes closed, my limbs feel stretched out. Something around each ankle and wrist, something soft yet solid, holding me in an X shape.
I risk opening my eyes, needing to see.
The light is dim, sunlight coming through a small window high up on one wall, where wall meets ceiling. The window, far to high to reach, is crisscrossed with thick metal bars anyway. Not even a small creature, a rat or squirrel say, could get through.
Squirrel? What a strange creature to pick from the list.
The rest of the room is bare. There's a door, heavy dull grey metal with a small window set at face height, and the simple metal framed thin mattress fitted bed I'm laid on. Nothing else.
And I have been strapped down. White cuffs are secured- belted and padlocked -around each limb, off of each a strap leads, each of the four vanishing under the bed. I give each limb an experimental tug, finding no slack. Bizarrely, the lack of any freedom, my helplessness, sets a tingling off deep in my belly, and lower down too. Why? Probing my mind, gently because my head hurts like someone spent an hour hitting me with a hammer, I'm shocked to discover how little I can remember.
I don't know where I am.
I don't know who I am.
I don't remember anything, save for some ghost like images that I find it hard to grasp onto for any length of time.
I do remember trees, a woodland that went on forever.
I remember the moon, smiling down on me.
"Hello." I call out, trying to pitch my voice at calm despite the worry of so much I don't know already eating away at me. "Um." Looking down at myself. Tattoo's? I'm dressed in a simple grey white bra and grey boy pants. "Hello." Louder, there must be a world outside the room. People. Someone put me here, surely that same someone is coming to let me out.
"Um. Hello." Did I always sound so posh? "Good morning." Surely someone will come.
"Hello." Right?
A bolt gets thrown, a key turns, the door opens.
A man walks in, strides in, like he owns the place. A trim figure wrapped in a black suit and pale yellow shirt, no tie. Grey hair slicked back, trimmed beard too. He smiles at me, stuffs hands into trouser pockets. "Good morning Jude."
"Jude?"
"Yes." A nod, tapping his head. "Don't worry about the memory loss."
"My name is Jude?"
"Yes."
"Oh." It just doesn't feel like my name though.
"Excuse me, but," I have to ask, "am I in prison?"
"Well." That smile again, his hand seesaws. "Yes and no."
"Oh. Um." My brain is, just, a total failure. "Why?"
"This is Hidden Hills."
"Okay." I nod, but, that wasn't an answer. "But...."
"Here we keep people safe." Gesturing around at my overly- in my opinion -secure circumstances. Still not answering my questions directly. "Here we will take the very best care of you Jude."
"But." He's turned to leave, is stopped by my not quite but almost shouted last word. "Yes?" Turning on the spot, one hand gripping the open door. "Jude."
"I just." Feeling really helpless. Confused. Why aren't I being unstrapped from the bed? "Is this is prison? Did I?" I swallow, not liking the idea but needing to know. "Did I do something bad?"
"Someone will be along to feed you shortly."
"But...." But he's gone, the door swinging closed to self lock with a very final sounding clunk. He doesn't look back.
My life becomes one of routine. A routine in which I get no say.
I'm unstrapped from the bed and bought food. Twice a day I'm bought food, mostly stew with crusty bread or a sandwich and fruit. All day I must stay in my room, only allowed outside its bland four walls for three things.
Every morning I'm taken to the showers, where I wash alone.
When I need the bathroom, there's always a guard within earshot if I bang loudly enough, and long enough, on my door.
And, lastly, once each day I'm taken outside, always under escort, to spend an unknown length of time walking the grounds of this maybe prison that I'm locked away inside.
Nobody I see, and I only ever see guards, will talk to me about anything relevant. I could, and do, have longwinded conversations regarding the weather, but about my circumstances: why I'm here, who exactly I am, will I ever be leaving? I hit brick wall after brick wall of silence.
And, each night without fail, I'm strapped back into bed, always wearing nothing more then a bra and pants.
Why does it say 'Pending Approval' on my left hand? What kind of tattoo even is that?
Today the sun is out. Today is a hot day.
Aside from my underwear, I get to wear grey joggers. Very stylish grey joggers I might add, with writing on the leg. There are hoodies too, but, because it's hot I'm just in joggers and a white vest top.
"Can I. Um" I point at the small copse of trees, sat on a slight rise that we sometimes walk past but never through. "What's that inmate?" Todays guard, looking bored. I point again. "Can I go in there?"
"What." Eying up the treeline with suspicion, as though enemy soldiers lurk just beyond. She looks back at me, I offer up my best hopeful smile. "Please."
"Well," and, as if on cue, her phone buzzes. Taking it out, from one of numerous pockets on her tight fitting black combat trousers, she smiles at the screen. "Sure." Waving me off. "Just, don't make me come in looking for you."
Inside the copse it's cooler, though not by much. Quieter too. I could, almost, pretend to be somewhere else. If I could think of anywhere else that is. Content to just stand, and breathe, I close my eyes. Enjoying the moment.
"Quueeeeeeeen."
"Huh?" Eyes snapping open, looking left, right. But I'm alone. It's just me here, and the trees. "Hello?"
"Quueeeeeeen." Barely above a whisper, whilst at the same time a slight breeze gusts against my face. "Yoooouuuuuuu."
"Hello?" I turn a slow circle. Nope, still alone. "Excuse me. Um. Sorry. But. Only. Who is that?"
"Trreeeeeeee." By luck, maybe, I happen to be looking at a tree with prehaps two dozen orange leaves, and even a half dozen pink, nestled in amongst the green. Despite it not being Autumn yet. I think? As I look two of the orange, and one pink, leaf, tumbles from the tree, gusting right in my face where they proceed to tumble circles around me. "Yoooouuuuuu. Quueeeeen. Frieeeennnnd."
"I'm talking to." Really? "A. Tree?"
"Yeeeesssssss."
"Oh. Um." What do you say, to a tree? "How are you today?"
"Miiisssss. Hoooommme."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Yoouuuuuur. Hooommme toooooo. Quueeeeen."
"Me?" Bollocks. Did the tree, is the tree really calling me a. "Queen?"
"Yeeessssss."
"Really?"
"Quueeeeen. Frieeennnnd."
"I'm a." Prehaps this is some sort of breakdown? I really am crazy. "I'm a friend, to trees?"
"Yeeessssss."
Well. And what is it that friends do? "Can I help you? Um. Mr tree."
"Taaaaaaake. Seeeeeeeed." Something golf ball sized, and brown, bounces down onto the ground, almost tossed at my feet. "Hoooooomme."
"Okay." Bending, I pick the seed up. It's surface is ribbed, cut with a swirling pattern. "Only. Where is home?"
"Uussssssse. Dooooooor."
"But." I shrug. "Which door? Please."
"Quueeeeen. Usssssssess. Dooooor."
"I do?" She does? Am I really a queen? Of what? "I'm sorry. Mr tree. Only." Shaking my head. "I don't remember being a queen. And, I'm not allowed to open any doors here at Hidden Hills."
For so long there's silence. So long that I'm beginning to feel as though the whole thing, were it not for the seed tucked into my bra, was just my imagination. And then. "Eeaaaaaat." Something else drops, is tossed, at my feet, something red like an apple. "And. Reeeeemmember."
Tentatively, I pick it up. It smells delicious.
What do I have to lose? I eat.
"What is it this ti...." Dr McAvoy's voice dries up, her face shifting from surprise to shock to a kind of hunger. Lastly to a nervous smile. As she looks up, finding me stood in her very organised office at Hidden Hills, the closed door at my back. "Well." She half stands, dressed in a white shirt with rolled up sleeves and faded blue jeans, then sits back down behind her desk. "I wasn't aware we had a scheduled appointment. Um. Ju...."
"Pheobe." The smile on my face feels too wide as I look across the room at her, at the closest I've had to someone who loved me- because Abbey doesn't count -in forever.
I remember. Everything.
"Melantha?" Now she does stand, coming around the desk, head cocked to stare at me, her own nervous smile growing slightly. "Is it you? Really you?"
"Yes." I step forwards, taking her hands in mine. "No more Jude. No more patches."
And then I kiss her, stepping in close, sealing her lips with mine even as she opens them to say. I've no idea. And, after a moment, she kisses me back. And the moment is perfect.
"How did you...?" We're sat on her sofa, side by side, close enough our legs are pressed together. My hand on her leg, her hand on mine. I stare into her eyes, steal another kiss. "I'm wondering," I frown slightly, "how much of what I could say you'd actually believe?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well." I shrug. "What if I was to say that, for starters, I walked from my cell to your office, but I didn't use a single corridor."
"Huh?"
"Or." I smile, it's almost like a game in some ways: how silly can I sound whilst actually telling the truth? "What if I told you a tree sacrificed all that it was to return my memory."
"A." A small smile ghosts her pretty face, but, she looks confused. Bless her. "Tree?"
"Or." I sit up that little bit straighter. "I could tell you that, amongst those I name friend, I'm, actually, a queen."
"Are you playing with me?" Still sat close, but looking puzzled, but not letting go of my hand. Phoebe gives me a kiss. "Is this some sort of game?"
"No." Reaching up to stroke her face, she leans into my hand, smiling. "No game pretty lady. Just my crazy life."
"So." Leaning back, giving me a look up and down. "You're saying that," I can see her brain working, like she wants to believe, but her doctorate won't allow it, "all of that stuff. Admiral Nay. Everything. It's all true?"
"Yes." I grin, catching a flash of colour falling from Phoebe's open window down behind her desk, and pitch my voice louder. "Took your time."
"What? Time." Admiral Nay, emerging from behind Phoebe's desk, brushing off his tricorn. "Punctual I am. Always on time."
"Admiral." I nod, feeling Phoebe stiffen beside me, seeing her mouth dropping open. "Melantha." Returning my nod, looking next to Phoebe. "Doctor."
"He's," looking from me to the Admiral, "real?"
"Yes." I grin, giving her a kiss. "I was trying to say. It's all real."
"But it's a squirrel."
"Squirrel? What." Tapping his chest. "No no madam. I, am Admiral Nay."
"But." Phoebe looks at me, I can see she's having trouble. "Is he really an Admiral?"
"He is." I laugh. "He even has a real boat."
"Oh."
"Admiral." I tip him a salute, which he returns smartly, making Phoebe giggle. I smile, and stand, walking over to sit down on the floor beside him. "Why are you here?"
"Came to check on you. Yes."
"Even though I said not to."
"No no." Wagging a finger. "Told not to come. What. Nothing about not following at a safe distance."
"Reinforcements was it Admiral?"
"Exactly." Sounding pleased at my use of military terms, as he always is whenever I play along. "Good thing too. Right." Gesturing at my grey joggers. "See you found trouble Melantha."
"I did." Nodding. "But a tree helped me to remember who I was."
"Tree." Scratching his chin. "Here?"
"Yes."
"Dead now. Yes?"
"Yes." I nod. I hadn't understood, at the time, that in helping me remember the tree was dooming itself. But, as I ate, the leaves turned to dust, and the bark withered. "I have its seed though."
"Really?" I hold up the brown ball. Admiral Nay nods. "Jolly good. We'll see it's returned to the woodland."
"Yes." I hand the seed over. "Can you see to that, please?" I look back over my shoulder. Phoebe, still sat on the sofa, gives me a hopeful smile. "I've got something to take care of here."
"You're leaving." Holding my hands in hers, I'm back on the sofa, side by side. Phoebe looks me in the eyes. "Aren't you?"
"Yes."
"But."
"I can't stay here." Looking around me, then down, I pull a hand free, plucking at the writing on my joggers. "I don't belong here."
"Can I see you again?"
"I'd like that." I smile, we share a kiss. "I'd like you to come with me really."
"Come with you?"
"Yes." I squeeze her hands. "I." Swallowing. "I'm not sure I want to be apart from you. But," shaking my head, "I can't stay here."
"Why though?"
"My brother." I huff. "I just can't."
"He." A pause, thinking, maybe joining the dots. "He put you here?"
"Yes." Shaking my head. "And I can't fight him."
"So he wins?"
"Sometimes the bad guy does."
"But." Kissing me. "Melantha. I don't want you to leave."
"Then come. Be with me. Please."
"I...." Her desk phone rings. With a grimace, Phoebe rises, goes to answer.
"They know you're missing."
"Do they know I'm here?"
"No." A head shake, a grimace. "But I'm supposed to keep an eye out. Ring the warden if I see you."
"Then." I stand. Sigh. "It's time to go."
"But." Phoebe steps towards me, even whilst I move to the door. "You can't go out there."
"I know." I can't help but grin, putting my hand on the door, working my own particular set of special skills. "I wasn't planning on it."
"What the." Phoebe gasps, her hand tightening its grip on mine as she stares through the open doorway. "Actual. Fuck?"
"This." I nod. "This is home."
"It's so green. So." Staring in wonder through the small gap, taking in the woodland beyond. "So alive."
"Come with me." I can, though they're muted, just about hear people beyond her office, coming closer. If they reach the door on their side, touch it, my doorway will close. I'll be caught. "Please."
"I." She wants to. I can see it in her face. Her need to have me approaching, if not already level, to my own need to maintain her in my newly discovered life. "I."
"Please." One foot on the threshold now. At some point we've let go of each other. I reach back out for her. "Come with me. I." Fighting back a tear, forcing a smile. "I need you."
"I." I can see the war going on behind her eyes. Want versus fact. What she feels versus what her brain is, probably, screaming at her can't possibly be an actual portal between worlds.
Phoebe takes a step towards me. Then another. A small smile growing on her face as she reaches out towards me. I smile back.
And then someone bangs on the window, so close to the door. Too close.
"Phoebe." Almost a plea, but she's frozen to the spot, has, if anything, stepped away from me. That bang jarring her back into reality. "I." Shaking her head. "I can't."
Another bang on glass. A muffled shout. I'm out of time. Blowing her a kiss, the sadness on my face echoed by hers, I step through the door, into my woodland.
"Wa...." I hear, as the door closes behind me, shutting my world, me, off from her.
I do hope that it won't be long before they get together.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Me too
Wonderful chapter. Melantha regaining her senses, the memory loss. Then the Meeting with the tree, which changed all.