#for 2 I am thinking of just tying a short rope to the bottle for her to hold on to

[x22817]

I'm thinking about teaching Hek to bring me a pre-made bottle of AT but I have some concerns

1. This would be just when I am dizzy + light headed without low BP so it would be up to me to tell her I need it. I don't want it tied to an alert

2. I only have metal water bottles, so I need to figure out how she can bring it to me without hurting herself

3. Hek doesn't really enjoy carrying stuff. She'll do it. But I don't want to make her do something she doesn't enjoy doing.

None of these are really that problematic. I'm just trying to think of new things we can do

[trashyswitch]

The Tickle Community’s Secret Members

Chapter 2: Their First Tickle Session

After discovering each other’s secret, they decide to show each other everything they know about being a part of the community! Most importantly, the physical aspects...

Roman, being the Ler he was, pulled out a big box from under his bed.

"What is it?" Patton asked.

Roman put a finger over his own mouth, before taking the lid off to reveal the inside. Patton just about died from what was inside...

The box was filled with a large variety of tickle tools that he could use on people! From feathers to toothbrushes, fake nails to makeup brushes, and feather dusters to paintbrushes! Patton also eyed up a bottle of baby oil in the box, a bundle of rope, a ball of yarn and a couple sparkly pens with no ink left. So that’s why he never threw away his sparkle pens...

“What do you think?” Roman asked. Patton stuttered. He felt targeted, excited, but also nervous...

“That’s a lot of tools...” Patton reacted, wiping a tear of sweat off his forehead.

“I know...you wanna try them out?” Roman asked with a playful glint in his eyes. Patton looked up and couldn’t help but notice the playful look. With no seconds to spare, Patton nodded.

“So...from your profile, I heard you like very little bondage. So, would you like no bondage? Or just your arms tied? Or just your feet tied?” Roman asked. Patton thought about it. He really wanted to go all out, but he didn’t know how skilled Roman was with his tools and he may wanna move his hands a bit.

“Just my feet.” Patton replied. Roman nodded and reached his hand under his bed. He pulled a couple scarves out from under his bed, and placed them by Patton’s feet.

Next, he started removing Patton’s socks. He made sure to make each and every action slow and delicate, to get Patton to relax. Then, he started tying one scarf around his right foot.

“How do you feel?” Roman asked. Patton bit his lip as he watched the prince work on his feet very carefully.

“A little nervous, but mostly excited.” Patton replied.

“Can I just mention just how beautiful your feet are? I mean, they’re really well cared for! They feel so soft as well.” Roman pointed out as he massaged Patton’s feet. Patton’s cheeks grew a little darker at the odd compliment, as he relaxed himself and gave into the massage.

Soon, short spouts of tickles were mixed into the massages. Those short spouts got longer, and longer, and longer, until finally...Roman had Patton’s foot displayed on his left hand, and his right hand was skittering and scratching many of the dips and inflations on his feet.

Patton’s giggling had taken over his body as he laid his shaking body onto the ground. Roman’s smile started to increase as he scratched the dipped line on the inner arch. A squeal left Patton’s mouth as his giggles continued a little louder than before. Roman continued to scratch there for a bit, before giving Patton a break. He placed Patton’s foot down, and pulled his box of tickle tools closer to him for better access.

“Patton, do you prefer light tickles? Heavy tickles? Or a bit of both?” Roman asked.

Patton took a break from his deep breathing to give him an answer. “A bit of both, but I wanna be losing my mind with tickles by the end.” Patton replied. Roman’s eyebrows widened in surprise.

“Why of course, my lee!” Roman reacted. Patton giggled at the nickname and covered up his face slightly with his hand, to cover up his darkening blush.

Roman grabbed a feather from his box, and fluttered it back and forth onto Patton’s foot.

“EEEhehehehehe! Yahahahay! Feheheheather!” Patton reacted, clapping his hands as he giggled.

“You like that?” Roman asked rhetorically, fluttering the feather against Patton’s inner arch.

“Yehehehehes!” He replied, nodding frantically as he giggled happily. Roman giggled at the reply and moved the feather under his toes. Patton guffawed, before his giggling turned into joyful laughter.

“It would be easier to tickle you if your toes weren’t curling up so much.” Roman commented with a smirk.

“Ihihi cahahahan’t HEHEHELP IHIHIT!” Patton argued through his laughter. Roman chuckled and shook his head.

“Here: I’ll help you.” Roman offered, before using his thumb to lightly push back Patton’s toes. Once the toes were ready, Roman fluttered his feather against the underside of his toes. This time, he made sure to touch all the spots that were available now.

“GAAhahahaha! WAIT- AHAHAHAHahaha!” Patton reacted, his eyes widening at the sudden new spot. Confused, he moved his feather back and forth. Very soon, Roman was able to pinpoint the really bad tickle spot: the underside of his pinky toe! Apparently, Patton’s pinky toe is more ticklish than the rest!

“Why, I can’t believe it! Looks like I have to pay some special attention to the smallest one!” Roman declared. He let go of Patton’s toes, and used his thumb to only lift the last one. Then, he fluttered the feather wildly under that special toe.

“AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEEEHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Patton reacted happily.

“Who know that the tiniest piggy would be the most ticklish piggy? Perhaps the piggy went ‘WEE WEE WEE WEE’ all the way home, for some TIC-TIC-TIC-TIC-TICKLES?” Roman teased.

“YOHOHOU’RE SOHOHOHO GOOD AHAT THAHAHAHAT!” Patton yelled through his laughter. And, he was telling the truth! Roman was really good at coming up with teasing tactics on the fly!

“I’m so good at what? You have to specify, my special, little lee. Am I good at fluttering the feather? Am I good at teasing you to oblivion? Or am I good at ticky-ticky-tickling you?” Roman asked. Patton’s cheeks grew a little more darker, into a shade of scarlet.

“THEHEHE TEHEHEHEHEASING!” Patton replied.

“OOOOOHH! The TEASING! You mean like this?” Roman asked, before putting the feather aside and skittering all 10 fingers on both of Patton’s feet. “Goochy goochy goo! Goochy goochy goochy goochy goochy goochy goo!” Roman teased as he tickled.

“HAHAHAHAHA! ROHOHOHOHOMAHAHAHAN!” Patton yelled through his hysterical laughter.

“Whaaaat?” Roman replied, making fun of Patton’s yelling.

“CHOHOHOHOOSE A DIFFERENT SPOHOHOT PLEHEHEHEASE!” Patton begged.

“Ooooh! Good idea!” Roman decided. He removed his hands, and got up onto his feet. He picked up the feather, put it into his box of tools and dragged it closer to Patton’s upper body.

“Thank you...Roman...” Patton said.

“I have a suggestion, that we should’ve thought about before now...” Roman started, as he removed the scarf from Patton’s feet. “We should choose a safe word.” Roman suggested.

Patton’s lips morphed onto a smile. “Good idea. How about...Puppies?” Patton suggested.

Roman nodded and smiled. “Puppies it is then.” Roman agreed.

Roman swung his leg over and sat onto Patton’s torso. He slightly wiggles himself to get comfortable, and looked Patton right in the eyes with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Patton’s smile grew wider as he looked at Roman, and watched as Roman slowly lifted up Patton’s shirt.

Patton had started giggling just from the shirt texture alone. Roman smiled at Patton’s contagious giggling as he reached for a specific tool: the metal claws. He put the pair of metal claws onto his fingers, and wiggled them in a teasing manner.

Patton’s giggling got a little more frantic, as his hands pulled his shirt collar up, muffling his giggles and covering his scarlet-coloured blush.

Roman wiggled his fingers playfully, and slooooowwwwly lowered his hands down...

To add suspense, Roman teased him.

“IIIIIII’m gonna getcha! IIIII’m gooooonna...” Finally, the metal claws touched down...onto Patton’s bare tummy! Roman resumes his teasing.

“I gotcha! I’ve gotcha-gotcha-gotcha! You can’t escape the WRATH of the TICKLE MONSTER NOW! MWAHAHAHAHA!” Roman teased. The metal fingers were skittering, wiggling and scratching at Patton’s bare belly, taking advantage of the different angles he was exposed to.

“Eeeeek! Hahahahahaha! Rohohohoman! Nahahahat the tuhuhuhummy!” Patton exclaimed though his fit of laughter.

“YES the tummy! It’s my favourite spot to tickle on a person! Do you know how often a person’s shirt rises up, and how tempting it is to tickle it? It’s incredibly difficult to ignore a bare tummy! ESPECIALLY THIS SQUISHY TUMMY!” Roman replied, as he tweaked and squeezed the squishy tummy.

Next, Roman leaned his lips down to Patton’s tummy...and started nibbling on Patton’s tummy! He even added nom-nomming noises to make the tickling worse!

“NOHOHOHOHO! DOHOHOHON’T EHEHEHEAT MEEEHEHEHE!” Patton begged.

Roman lowered his voice down to a bellowing voice. “Why, what’s wrong with a few nibbles before dinner? OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM! OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM! That is a DELICIOUS tummy, I must say!” Roman playfully teased in his bellowing voice, dabbing his lips with his hand like a princess dabbing her face with a napkin.

“Do you wanna know my favourite part about the tummy, Patton?” Roman asked, returning to his ordinary voice.

Patton nodded as his face remained covered with his hands.

“It’s...” Roman said, drifting off suspensfully. He reached for a fairly narrow, but long brown feather. Feather in hand, he showed Patton the feather before dipping the end of the feather into Patton’s belly button. “...The BELLY BUTTON!” Roman declared eagerly, swirling the narrow feather around in Patton’s belly button.

Patton threw his head back as his laughter grew louder and higher. After a couple more minutes of feather tickling, Roman placed the feather aside, removed the index finger claw from his right hand, and dipped his bare index finger into the belly button.

“YYAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! EEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA!” The lee reacted.

Patton was in absolute paradise! He always loved laughing, but he rarely laughed as hard as this! He was getting close to going insane from laughter alone, and boy, was he ecstatic about that! For a long time, he had been worried about telling people about his ticklish fantasies. Though Virgil had made a few of his fantasies come true, they weren’t as professional and lengthy as this! This was a whole new level of ticklish laughter! Roman must’ve been collecting his tickle tools and practicing his strategies for years now! In Patton’s mind, that was the only possible way to get THIS good at tickling people! Either way, his strategies and tools were DEFINITELY working!

Meanwhile, Roman was thoroughly enjoying this as well! He loved being able to make someone happy so easily! Especially when the person happened to be a certified lee! When Roman found out Patton was part of the tickle community, he just about fainted! How could a fellow side be living under the same roof as him, and only find out about this NOW?! He could’ve been tickling Patton for months, if he’d known sooner! But, whatever. You can’t change the past. All you can do, is focus on the present. And today’s gift? A long, wondrous tickle fight with a fellow citizen of the tickle community!

Roman decided to give Patton a break. He removed his finger, and laid beside the exhausted man. Roman rested his body for a while beside him, and let his little lee have a well deserved rest.

“I...didn’t...say the...safe word...” Patton mentioned.

“I know.” Roman said, turning his head towards Patton’s head. “You seemed to have forgotten to use that word when it gets to be too much.” Roman explained.

“But...I was enjoying it. You didn’t...need to stop...” Patton argued.

“You looked like you needed it. I’m not a sadist...I’m not gonna let my lee laugh beyond their limits...” Roman explained.

Patton smiled. “Thank you.” he said.

Roman turned his body towards Patton. “No problem, my adorably ticklish boy!” Roman teased, giving Patton’s tummy a short tickle.

Patton’s giggling returned for a few seconds, before he turned his body towards his ler and tickled his sides in retaliation.

“Aaahahahahaha! Pahahatton!” Roman bursted out suddenly, kicking his legs out of instinct.

“What are you laughing at, Roman?” Patton asked with a crooked smile.

“Yohohohou’re tihihihickling mehehe!” Roman replied through his laughter.

“Really? A Ler can be ticklish?! Who would’ve thought?” Patton teased, skittering his fingers from his sides to his stomach.

“Yahahahaha! Nahahat the tuhuhummy! Ihihit’s tohohohoo ticklish! Hahahahahaha!” Roman reacted. His body curled away from the hands, as Patton scooted himself closer to make up for the widening space.

“Oh come on, Roman! It’s not that bad. You did A LOT worse than I’m doing to you right now!” Patton mentioned.

“Buhuhuhut You lihihihike ihihit!” Roman argued.

Patton pulled his hands back. “And you don’t?” Patton asked, his smile falling.

Roman took a few moments to take a few breaths in.

“I do, but nohohot as much as yohohou...But, I’ll be ohokay with you retaliating sometimes.” Roman explained.

“Okay.” Patton agreed.

Patton laid his body back down.

Roman bit his lip, as he thought about what he was gonna say. “Uh...Patton?” Roman started. Patton turned his head to Roman. “Once in a while, I fall into lee moods. Maybe one day, if you’re okay with it, I could go to you when I’m in my next lee mood?” Roman asked.

“YES!” Patton shouted, pulling Roman into a big hug and a squeeze. Suddenly, he pulled away, and scratched the back of his head. “I mean...ya! I’d love to make you happy during lee moods!” Patton replied properly.

Roman smiled. “Okay.” He agreed happily, calmly pulling Patton into another hug.

And so, the tickle community’s secret members, were no longer secret. They had tickle fights often, especially when one of them was in a lee/ler mood. Through their encounters, they’ve discovered many things about each other! Which spots trigger which laughs, what other household items could be used for tools, and, believe it or not, what it’s like to be tickled by 2 people! Patton learned that the fun way! And it turns out, Roman and Virgil make a really good tickle team! Who knew!

In the end, they were both happy to talk to someone else about their love for tickling, and one day, they hoped to meet other citizens of the tickle community!

[boysknottysummer-blog]

Discovered!

The following is the first chapter of Nicolas H’s saga called The Boys’ Knotty Summer. His stories hold a special place in my heart, as they helped me to find who I really was as I was growing up. I hope you, the dear reader, will find them as delightful as I do.

To begin with my story, I should introduce myself at the time as a 14 year old male, athlete-slim, just as tall as any normal kid, with short brown hair and green eyes. While I look like the average Latin boy, at the same time I don’t (mom is a foreigner with German ancestry).

During one of my many summer vacation’s afternoons, I was invited by my cousin to sleep over. Tyler (13) is a little bit different; he is shorter than me, has darker skin, black eyes and hair. We had already played tie-up games together but this was a special occasion I’ll never forget.

Around 3 pm, my mom dropped me off at my uncle’s house, a two-story building where there’s nothing much to do than play soccer, cards or watch TV (no computer though), but we managed to have fun anyway. Tyler had only one brother, who was 10 years older than him, so he never got into - neither knew about - our games. Tyler answered the door, said hello and I followed him right into the kitchen where he was washing some dishes.  

“My mom’s working late. She asked me to do some stuff and then we’ll have the whole day to play,” Tyler said, as I started to help him.

“What about Marcus?”

“I have no idea. He’s always wandering in his car, but don’t worry, he won’t be back till 10,” he replied and I relished the idea of being all by ourselves in that big house.

I really enjoyed spending time with Tyler because he was open to try anything and wouldn’t say shit like you were weird or something. Right after we finished all of his chores, the doorbell rang and several friends from the neighborhood invited us to play soccer. They always showed up when they knew I was around and we often agreed to dispute a match with them if we, ehem, weren’t doing something else.

We went upstairs to get the ball, changed from our normal clothes into blue satin shorts and a light t-shirt, with a pair of worn out sneakers. I remember it turned out to be a particularly tough game, despite the fact I was a fine soccer player. My teammates were Adrian (13) and Phil (12), the “blond brothers”; against Tyler’s team: Adam (13) and Chris (14). While we disputed the match, the relentless sun punished us severely; it must have been the hottest day of the season, for I was soaked in sweat only 15 minutes after we started. It went on excitingly, until there was an incident I ought to tell due to its relevance in the story. Tyler tried one last time to score before the game ended. He had already left Phil behind and had dribbled Adrian, the goalkeeper, running at full speed towards our goal. I was the last barrier to go through before scoring, and if that happened, we would lose. I must admit I don’t like losing, especially in my own game, so I decided Tyler wouldn’t score this goal and started running in the opposite direction, like I was going to collide with him. When I was pretty close, I threw myself to the ground, stretching my right leg at my cousin; and I tackled him. Back then I didn’t think it was going to hurt him THAT bad, but he recovered from it, so let’s just call it a minor soccer injury. When I got up, I saw Tyler on the ground clutching and rubbing his right ankle and screaming like hell.

“Sorry Tyler, I had to protect my team you know. No hard feelings right?” I said, expecting a little understanding. I reached down, inspected his wound and helped him to his feet.  

“Yeah sure, you stupid cheater,” he replied and pushed me. A sudden chill ran through my body. I tried to apologize again but he wouldn’t accept it. If there ever was an outstanding characteristic in Tyler, that was vengeance. The decision was left for penalty kicks and we won 3 – 2. Tyler didn’t seem to be angry, but I knew him, he was furious. The game over, the loser team bought us a big bottle of Coke, which we drank greedily, and then Tyler and I headed back to the house. It was around 5pm. We trotted up to the second floor, where all bedrooms were. We were filthy and in desperate need of a shower. I had already taken my sweaty t-shirt off and as I was entering his room, Tyler on impulse kicked my ankle and I tripped and fell down hard.  

“AHHH! That hurt goddammit! What was that for?” I cried out loud, astonished, massaging my foot. He immediately reached into his top drawer and took a long coil of elastic bandage, the ones you use to use for boxing.

“Nothing,” he replied while he pushed me rather roughly on my stomach, “just lay down still, because you’re going to be my prisoner for the whole afternoon.” I couldn’t believe his words and laughed. At that time, I wasn’t worried about getting out, because Tyler couldn’t even tie his freaking shoelaces - whenever he had tied me up I had always managed to free myself within seconds. I tried getting up but he jumped and sat on my butt, pulling my wrists back. I squirmed and wiggled trying to escape, but Tyler’s grip held -although younger, Tyler was quite strong, strong enough to hold me.  

“Calm down,” he said, “you’re just making it harder for yourself.” I laughed again, but soon that smile disappeared from my face. It was then Tyler finally got the chance to turn the tables on me and prove a point or two to me regarding tying up skills. He grabbed my wrists and I felt the loops around them while he wrapped vertically, and then horizontally; he finally knotted it beyond the reach of my fingers. I struggled somewhat worried and, surprise, I couldn’t get out! It was nothing like the crappy ties he used to do; there was no slack and all loops had a part in strictly securing my hands to each other. I had no logical explanation to how he had suddenly become an expert tier, but what really mattered at that instant – and worst of all - was that I realized any attempt of escape without help would be futile.  

“HELLLPMPPPPPPPHHHH….!!!” My scream was muffled when Tyler clamped his sweaty warm hand over my mouth. I groaned, squirmed and mmmpppphhhhed but Tyler had pressed the back of my head using his other hand and had effectively hand-gagged me.  

“There’s no point in screaming for help now, Nick. Nobody is home and you’re going to pay for what you did this afternoon.” I think, however, he would have tied me either way, but then he had a good excuse to do it. At that tender age, I was not familiarized with the term “bondage” – we just referred it as “tie up game”. It’s obvious that at that age most people start their love for tying up, as it happened to me. Looking back with hindsight, I think it is very likely that Ty (that’s how I call him, ironic isn’t it?) also enjoyed bondage more than he was letting on at the time.  

“Are you sorry?’ Tyler asked with his hand still tightly clamped over my mouth. I tried desperately to reply, “I am!”, but it all came out as “MMP MPPPHHHH” through his hand.  

“This is your last chance Nick. Are you sorry?” He asked again and ignored my following “MMP MPHHHHHHHHH!!!”  

“Well Nick, you leave no me choice but to punish you,” Tyler said in a sober tone. Then he removed his hand and I said, “I’m sormmppphhhh…” but was cut off again as he shoved a sock in my mouth and sealed it with a convenient roll of duct tape under the bed, wrapping it around my head.  

“Get up now!” he commanded. Tyler helped me to my feet and then marched me to his bed where I was laid on, still with bound arms. He proceeded to take off my shoes and socks, and then he repeated the tying technique with my ankles and secured them together to a rope that hung from the ceiling. There I lay shirtless, tape-gagged, hands bound behind my back, and my restrained feet lifted a meter up, making it impossible for me to get up. My cousin just laughed at me; he would be getting fun at my expense. I soon would know what he was up to.  

“Nick, I really should get a shower. You won’t mind if I leave you alone for a while, will you?” Ty mocked but got no answer.

“Haha.” He went on admiring his handiwork, patted on my cheek, said, “Don't go anywhere!”, and closed the bathroom door after him.

I tried to free myself, but to no avail. I mightily struggled against the ropes, twisting my shoulders up and down, pulling and pushing my arms against the ropes. Ty returned after 15 minutes to find me the same way he had left me, only sweatier. I was breathing heavily as he reached to my feet and wiggled his fingers. He was aware that I was extremely ticklish and he had always taken advantage on that; he was really, really evil in that way.  

“Mmmpphhhhhh!!!” I screamed through my gag, hoping compassion. Nevertheless, he started the dreadful tickling. He tickled me with increased intensity and I burst out laughing under my gag. He kept on tickling me, under my armpits, my sides, but specially my bare feet, a smile of pleasure on his face. I was totally helpless and laughed my head out as he continued. I screamed, wriggled and squirmed all the way until he stopped for a minute or two so I could recover from it. By then, tears were already rolling down my cheeks. I was exhausted. I thought it was better if I just remained quiet and stood still to regain strength, for I knew the relief would be temporary.  

“Do you like that Nick?” I shook my head with pleading eyes.

“Well, I sure don’t like having a bruise on my leg you jerk!” He punched me on the arm. Then Tyler approached again wiggling his fingers, but like a miracle, we heard steps coming up the stairs. He froze and looked at me.

“OH, SHIT!!!”

“Mphhhhhhhh !!!” I begged through the tape; I wanted him to untie me before it was too late! We truly didn’t want to be seen playing tie up games; we thought it would be too embarrassing, particularly for me in that position. I should have looked stupid tied that way and tortured by a 13 year old boy. I suppose he thought it was impossible to untie me before I was discovered and he just hid behind the closet, the coward little rat. The steps came nearer and nearer, until they reached the closed door which was shortly knocked and then opened….

[your-kpopmama]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

AN: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE

—-Jimin watched the snow fall down in heavy waves through the window panes of the coffee shop he was currently residing in. He had come in a few hours ago to work on a marketing report for his boss who insisted it get done as quickly as possible. It’s not like he had any plans or anyone to spend the holidays with, so he didn’t mind so much. He smiled at the waitress as she dropped another cup of coffee on his table while he typed out an expense report. He tried not to think about his family back in Busan, a family that had disowned him last Christmas when he came to visit with his boyfriend, Yoongi, successfully coming out to them. Needless to say they weren’t thrilled.

His relationship didn’t last much longer either, the two of them being engrossed in their own jobs and realizing they didn’t have much in common though the two remained food friends.

Placing the mug against his lips, Jimin took a small sip of coffee that warmed his body instantly- even if it was short lived.

The front door opened to the cafe letting a gust of winter air blaze through the establishment causing Jimin to shiver from the sudden shock.

A man about his age walked in shaking the heavy snowflakes from his brown hair while he pulled his heavy black scarf off from around his neck. Needless to say the man was attractive. Big doe eyes that glanced around the cafe quickly while he rubbed his gloveless hands together to bring heat to them.

Jimin watched as he walked to the counter and placed an order before taking a seat at a table a few feet from where Jimin currently sat.

The stranger looked up and caught Jimin staring at him. A big friendly grin graced his lips and he waved at Jimin. Heat sprung to his cheeks in embarrassment before Jimin turned back to his laptop and began tying, successfully getting lost back into his work.

After another hour into his report, Jimin finally finished. Quickly saving his progress he attached it to an email to his boss and sent it along it’s way, glad that he was able to finish it so quickly. Jimin reached his arms above his head in a stretch with a satisfied smile on his face. Glancing up through the windows Jimin’s smile faded and a frown replaced it.

The snow had began to fall heavier to the point it was hardly visible outside.

“Weatherman said it’s gonna get worse before it gets better. A blizzard is working it’s way to Seoul.” A voice called from his right.

Jimin turned his head to look only to lock eyes with the beautiful stranger who had walked in an hour earlier. His frown deepened while he put his laptop away in its case. “So much for going home. Looks like we are stuck for a while.” Jimin mused.

“Actually we are closing down early.” The waitress said as she came to retrieve the used coffee mugs from Jimin and the strangers tables.

“Seriously?” Jimin whined. “I live so far away. I walked here.” His voice trailed off as his eyes traveled back to the fat snowflakes falling from the sky.

“This is going to sound really strange and don’t feel pressured, but my apartment is just a couple buildings down. You’re more than welcome to wait the storm out.” The stranger piped up, suddenly beside you with a friendly smile.

“B-but I don’t even know you?” Jimin said warily.

“Jeon Jungkook.” He stuck his hand out for Jimin to shake, “if it helps my next door neighbor is a police chief so you can always scream if you feel in immediate danger.” Jungkook winked at a blushing Jimin.

Jimin thought about it, he really thought about it. For all of 2 seconds. He had nothing else to do. No plans. No one to text or call to see if they were available to come over. He smiled and reached his hand and placed it in Jungkook’s and gave it a light shake, “Park Jimin.” He said with a bright smile.

Jungkook’s grin got even wider, and he seemed so childlike in that moment, Jimin’s heart felt soft.

The two men wrapped their scarves around their necks and pulled on their coats before grabbing their belongings and getting ready to face the blizzard that awaited them outside.

Instant regret is the feeling that flowed through both of their minds as soon as they stepped outside. The wind whipped across their faces harshly and the snow flying into their eyes caused momentary blindness while they tried to blink the cold from their eyes.

Luckily Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said he was only a couple buildings down. He lived in an expensive looking complex, much different from Jimin’s own modest looking apartment. The two hurried through the glass front doors and stamped their feet on the rug inside the doors to rid their shoes of excess snow.

Jimin followed Jungkook to the elevator, eyes wide when he hit the penthouse button. He let out a low whistle which caused Jungkook to chuckle, “I promise it’s not much. I don’t even pay for it. My dad owns a cosmetic company and I work for him.” Jungkook explained.

Jimin’s eyebrows raised up under his hair, “Oh? What company?” He inquired.

“Uh, BST Cosmetics.” Jungkook said softly.

Jimin’s eyes went wide, “shut up!” He shouted.

Jungkook seemed taken aback for a split second before an easy grin made its way to his face, “I have never had that reaction before.”

“Sorry! It’s just, I work for BSR Cosmetics here in Seoul. In the marketing department.” Jimin explained.

It was Jungkook’s turn for wide eyes, “Really? Huh. Small world.” He mused.

The elevator ride was shorter than what Jimin expected it to be. Once at the penthouse level the doors opened up to a lavish looking apartment.

‘So much for its not much.’ Jimin thought to himself.

Jungkook smiled and walked out of the elevator, removing his shoes and putting them on a rack, Jimin followed suit allowing Jungkook to take his coat and scarf and watched as he hung them up on a hook by the door.

Eyeing the apartment, Jimin couldn’t help but feel a tad envious of Jungkook. Marbled flooring and soft grey walls lined through the whole area. Floor to ceiling windows adorned with black curtains. All the furniture was black too, and very luxurious looking.

Compared to Jimin’s thrown together apartment of mix matched dishes and old furniture he pulled in from his neighbors apartment when they were moving,, Jimin couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” Jungkook said.

Jimin shook his head and scoffed, “Not much? I think your couch costs about a years worth of my rent.” He teased.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and laughed. “My dad gets a bit carried away sometimes.” He explained.

“I never see you around the building, do you come in often?” Jimin asked as he took a seat on the couch that Jungkook offered.

“I mostly travel and check out other branches. I’m not at the main one much. My dad said he wanted me to learn the ropes now though so I suppose I’ll be around a tad bit more.” Jungkook stated.

Jimin felt himself smile a bit. Jungkook seemed nice enough. It also didn’t hurt that he owned the company he worked for, so he relaxed a bit and allowed himself to release some of the tension he held in his shoulders.

“So how come you were at the coffee shoppe? Don’t you have family to spend Christmas Eve with?” Jungkook questioned as he pulled his feet up on the couch.

Jimin shrugged and picked at the bottom of his grey knit sweater, “I uh, don’t see my family much since last Christmas.” He explained.

Jungkook frowned and got up quickly. Jimin watched as he shuffled to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of what looked like liquor before he retreated back to his position on the couch. “I have a feeling we might need a drink or two.” Jungkook winked in Jimin’s direction before pouring two glasses of an amber colored liquid.

Jimin accepted it graciously and knocked back his drink quickly, enjoying the burn in the back of his throat.

Jungkook followed Jimin’s actions and winced causing Jimin to laugh loudly.

“So. Now that we are slightly liquored up, tell me. Who are you, Park Jimin?” Jungkook questioned, getting comfortable on the couch.

Jimin bit his bottom lip for a moment before answering, “Well, I’m 24. I work for BST Cosmetics as you know.” He smiled, “I live alone in am apartment clear across the city. Hm,” he pondered a moment “I love to dance and well that’s really about it. I keep to myself mostly, I’m kind of s workaholic.” Jimin finished, frowning when he saw Jungkook’s small frown.

“Sounds like a very lonely way to live.” Junkook mumbled.

Jimin puffed his cheeks out before nodding solemnly in agreement, “you’re right.” He held his glass out for Jungkook to fill it back up with more liquor and took the shot eagerly.

“So if you don’t mind me asking,” Jungkook said slowly, “how come you aren’t with family? What happened?”

Eyes downcast Jimin sighed, “I came out to my family last year. I brought my boyfriend home with me and they weren’t pleased needless to say.”

Jungkook made a disgusted face before taking a shot of his own beverage. Jimin fidgeted slightly wondering if it was smart coming out to Jungkook like that. It’s not something you just tell someone straight away, but if worse came to worse he could always pin it on the alcohol.

“That’s just messed up.” Jungkook finally said. “I mean when I came out to my family everyone was so supportive, especially my parents. I’m not trying to brag or anything but I guess it just seems weird to me to not have that kind of support from family.” He explained.

Jimin was at a loss for words. He hadn’t expected Jungkook to respond like that, let alone come out to him too. Despite the shock, Jimin smiled and leaned his head back against the couch.

“What about you, Jeon Jungkook? What’s your life story?” Jimin asked gently.

Jungkook smiled, “I’m 23. I play a lot of video games in my free time. I too am a workaholic. And I am a hopeless romantic.” He laughed.

“Hopeless romantic, huh?” Jimin teased.

“Oh yeah. I love cliche love stories. I eat that shit up.” Jungkook smiled as he took another shot.

The two sat in silence for a while just drinking and spilling little details of their everyday lives while the blizzard outside raged on. Jimin learned that on weekends, Jungkook spent his afternoons teaching business classes for free to adults who were looking for work - when he was in town of course. Jungkook learned that Jimin was also quite the accomplished baker.

Between the liquor and the spilling of secrets, the two started to fall asleep on the couch. A strong gust of wind whipped past the windows causing the two to jolt awake.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie?” Jungkook offered.

Jimin nodded his head sleepily, “that sounds great.”

Jungkook busied himself with turning on a film before settling back onto the couch closer to Jimin than before. The alcohol burning confidence into his body.

“Love Actually?” Jimin questioned.

“It’s the greatest!” Jungkook said wistfully.

“I wasn’t gonna disagree.” Jimin winked towards Jungkook before he scoot a tad closer so he could lean his head on his shoulder.

Jungkook stiffened at the contact but relaxed before Jimin even noticed. The two sat quietly enjoying the movie before they fell asleep.

——Waking up with a shiver, Jungkook looked around his apartment noticing the lights were out and he was absolutely freezing. He looked down and noticed Jimin curled up into a ball on his side in an attempt to keep warm in his sleep. Getting up he walked to the windows to look outside, a small gasp leaving his lips as the world around him was solid white and dark. Realizing the storm knocked the power out, Jungkook hurried back to Jimin and shook him awake gently. “Jimin. Hey.” He whispered.

Jimin woke with a start, eyes wide as he was trying to take in his surroundings, “huh?” He asked lamely.

“Jimin, it’s Jungkook. You’re at my apartment.” Jungkook gently explained. He could feel Jimin relax before he stretched and began shaking.

“Holy crap it’s cold.” Jimin whined.

“The storm knocked the power out. Come with me.” Jungkook instructed before slipping Jimin’s tiny hand in his and leading him to his bedroom before he could ask questions.

“Sorry about this, but I only have the one bed. We can both share it and hopefully our body heat can keep us warm.” Jungkook explained as he lead Jimin to the bed.

“Wait I don’t have to get naked do I?” Jimin asked concerned causing Jungkook to burst in laughter.

“What! No why would you?”

“Well in those survival shows they get naked to keep warm.” Jimin explained.

“This isn’t one of those situations. Us keeping our clothes on would be more beneficial.” Jungkook laughed.

Jimin nodded too tired to argue and climbed into the bed, immediately curling up into the plush blanket. Jungkook walked around and climbed in, facing Jimin and closing his eyes for sleep.

——When Jimin woke in the morning he noticed two things; 1: he was really really hot and 2: there was a heavy weight around his stomach.

He cracked his eyes open and saw a mess of brown hair and a man with his face squished into the pillow beside Jimin’s head. Confused he started to get out of the bed until he remembered yesterday. The blizzard and the power going out. Jimin laid there and studied Jungkook’s face intently. Memorizing the small scar and little moles that adorned his face.

“Do I look that ugly?” Jungkook mumbled earning a surprise squeak from Jimin.

“N-no!” Jimin replied.

Jungkook cracked an eye open to see Jimin’s fave turning red and smiling.

“Cmon, Let’s get some food.” Jungkook offered.

The two went into the kitchen and thanked their lucky stars the power had been turned back on in the early morning hours. The world outside still white, but busy with people seeing as how they cleared the roads and the snow stopped falling. They enjoyed their breakfast in small witty banter and they cleaned the apartment up together rather quickly. By time noon rolled around Jungkook had received a call from his father, requesting him to be at dinner in an hour. Jimin didn’t want to admit he was a tad bit sad when Jungkook announced this, but he had his own family obligations and Jimin couldn’t expect Jungkook to ignore that for him.

“I can drop you off at your apartment.” Jungkook offered.

Jimin shook his head, “it’s okay. I can walk.”

“Nonsense. Let me go change and we can go.” Jungkook said smiling.

Jimin waited around for another twenty minutes before Jungkook reappeared in a nice three piece suit and his hair slicked back off his forehead. Jimin didn’t want to admit the strong attraction he felt. Jungkook lead Jimin to the adjacent parking garage to the complex and got inside his car before driving in silence across the city. Jimin instructed Jungkook on how to get to his apartment and once there, Jungkook insisted on walking Jimin to his door.

Fiddling for his keys, Jimin’s hands shook slightly from his sudden nerves. Once the key was inside the lock and twisted, he turned to Jungkook to say goodbye.

However Jungkook was leaning in close to Jimin, a small smile played on his face before he planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

Jimin felt the heat rushing to his face.

“Jimin, I know we just met and all but I would really like to tale you on a date this week.” Jungkook confessed.

Jimin grinned so big his eyes turned into tiny crescents, “I’d really like that.”

“Awesome.” Jungkook breathed, his own cheeks flushed. “Well I have to get going. I’ll call you?”

Jimin nodded and kissed Jungkook on his cheek, “Merry Christmas, Jungkook.”

“Merry Christmas, Jimim.”

[ladyofmind]

July... Oh, July

Where did you go?

Seems like it was just the other day that I got home from that weekend trip and tried to find my routine again. Yes, I didn’t post much about my Nano camping or victory, but that editing work got done. The book itself isn’t finished, but I need a break!

Where else did July disappear to? Some good things came with my minor query attempt... I am waiting for more answers and managed to find myself an AMAZING editor to help me get this massive series into some shape. (Seriously, message me about her, I will be glad to share!) So yeah, that’s where I’ve been, plus or minus a sugar coma birthday weekend... 32 years old now, and that was way too much food. Well loved and over fed for sure.

As with any of my month end wrap-ups, I do like to keep those hashtag games in one place... For the above-mentioned reasons, I didn’t finish all my games this month so I will try my best next month...

More after the jump...

#wipwordsearch

1- Woods started tuning and testing his guitar before finally deciding on the one he wanted, a wicked little smile of his own forming. Two could play this game.

2- Pulling into the parking lot of Woods' building, Remmy stayed silent again, about what was ahead for Tweet.

3- Malta went in bounding search of Remmy, flying at the man for the second time that day.

4- Unfortunately, Malta took his compliment, despite his eyes traveling Tweet's form as discreetly as he could.

5- "He's certainly got my attention, cute little fishy he is." When both girls gave Tweety a look, she shrugged "You know like plenty of fish in the sea?

6- Tweety wanted to be Woods' muse, his sexy little siren, the thing he didn't take his eyes off of and drew inspiration from.

7- NO TURQUOISE

8- Rounding, she held the giggle at Brandon's confusion, even as the show went on. She felt a bit like those streakers that ran through sporting events, the way she was disrupting things. Though this time it wasn't her fault, but if you're already making a spectacle of yourself, might as well go full on.

9- Grabbing his music player and speakers, she continued on, shirt starting to climb up her back as she walked to the bathroom, tossing it just inside the doorway.

10- Woods wasn’t helping the cause, leaning against the door he held open, a mix of dented pride and cat with the canary.

11- NO BLOSSOM

12- She started to move again, softly swaying to the song.

13- He could tell Bebe was the type to do as Tweety wrote, and now Sly wondered if that was the reason miss Tweety sponged down that particular table so.

14- In Frost's mind, this was what a successful operating business looked like; something he'd been trying to have happen in the years he'd been the manager.

15- He had to think a moment to make sure he hadn't said anything other than a comment on food. He couldn't help but smirk, she looked as if he just said the smartest thing ever, and he knew himself well enough to know that couldn't happen.

16- That left Malta and Tweety to finish attempting to send the men on their way. Of course they were not being forced out, but the party had wound down nicely, and those boys needed to be up early to ship out, so they were trying to be mindful of this.

17- It could be called pretty, even if it sorely needed some updating. She looked past him, down the row of empty spaces, her own history easily meshing here too.

18- NO CHISEL

19- She somehow had bags of stuff again but knew the last stop she needed to make before getting to work; ordering two boxes of assorted cupcakes from her bakery boys, who seemed a bit surprised (she) came back.

20- Tweet just felt it more, the enormous mistake this would be.

21- That didn't quite help because he gripped the edge, and sunk down a little. "Maybe you should take ten first? You don't look so good."

22- Returning her attention to the drinkers, who had abandoned all the empty bottles, moving instead to the couch, swigging from some dented flask.

23- NO ZOOM

24- She'd lost count of them all now, and that probably wasn't a good thing to admit to. Just because she chased after one man, didn't mean she wasn't being tailed by more than enough of her own.

25- "Maybe if I could get another drink? I guess I can't drink through my skin." Deej gave the stink eye to Roger, before shrugging and rubbing the back of his head with a chuckle. "Anyone got an extra shirt?"

26- Woods laughed with a nod to the rest of the group, stepping a little closer to the microphone "I do believe the naughty nurse Trouble just issued another challenge, one we intend to take on."

27- Malta started to sway to the music, causing Tweet to do the same, and then they covered an ear each when the club could hear the way Frost boomed "Lass!"

28- Making a face as he downed the drink, Collar figured partying too hard wasn’t as bad as alliteration. "Good luck sir." He saluted and then wandered off, finding a nice table of random people to bother.

29- She could write a book about how to divert attention from yourself.

30- NO HAPHAZARD

31- Her back ached as if she had jumped into a pool and met with the solid wall of water, stinging her all over.

#CharactersTell

1/7- "Ballentine Rajneesh Siyamak, but you can call me Sly for short." In an old school fashion, Sly bent at the waist. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, and welcome to Soulful. Are you here to see Tweety about the Red Letters series?"

2/7- Sly- "Back in the old country, I slept under the stars, or in a tent a time or two. Now? I suppose one might consider me a hotel camper, if one sees the club's bedrooms as a hotel, even if I hardly use it…"

3/7- Sly- "I know my way around a few things, been around a while. I once managed a spider infestation with a loo brush and pail."

4/7- Sly- "I love the outdoors, big fan of walking around at night, contemplating life in the darkest time of day."

5/7- Sly- "I don't get scared, so I must be telling them? I am not aware I am telling scary stories though, given that I am already often told how terrible I am at noticing flirtatious behavior aimed at me."

6/7- Sly- "Cooking? I am more of a concocter. I make a mean milkshake, and have been known to mix up some drinks and make something new."

7/7- Sly- "I like music, I do, but I don't sing. Not unless it will lighten the mood, and that is a last resort option."

8/7- "Oh? I've never been to camp! Hey fellow campers, I'm Raven, and I'm in a cabin all by my lonesome, stop by for a visit won't you?"

9/7- Raven- "Stargazing? I mean there was this one time, in an outdoor hot tub," *blushes* "We were under the stars but I didn't notice them much…"

10/7- Raven- "Why do we talk about me so much? I want to know about you. What's your favorite activity? I'll try anything once, twice if it's a good time…"

11/7- Raven- "Why ask me something like that? Do you want me to follow you? Because I totally would."

12/7- Raven- "Depends on if I'm taking that dip alone or not. Will you be joining me? I'd do it with you."

13/7- Raven- "Of course I am, anything you want, I'm willing to do, even change for you, so long as you love me."

14/7- Raven- "The bar that was home changed, so that sense of home is gone for a while now. But if you're offering to have me move in with you, of course I will!"

15/7- "Cop" Collar- "Hm, the Intel said that scumbag was here. Better let Nira know Tim's still out there." *texts back and forth* "What do you mean go camping for a while? I wasn't prepared to camp here…."

16/7- "Cop" Collar- *chuckles while unloading car* "Depends on the mountains… More of a poolside camper lately, but apparently I'm stuck in this forest for a few days."

17/7- "Cop" Collar- *finishing pop up tent* "I flirt all the time, ladies love the man thong, men too. Unless you mean a different kind of tent?" *pulls half deflated blowup doll from trunk into tent* "Leftover from a prank, but a good mattress you pervs."

18/7- "Cop" Collar- "I really shouldn't because alcohol starts the party… but I am off duty for a few days before the big bash…" *Chugs a large high proof bottle*

19/7- "Cop" Collar- *bleary eyed* "Always… Where's my thong? WHO TOOK MY THONG?" *spies a guy lost on the path* "You! You must have taken it!" *gives chase to poor guy* (this author spares some details for PG purposes)

20/7- "Cop" Collar- "Oh, great with knots, not so great with shelters."

*finishes hog tying guy with only man thong as rope*

"Collar, dude, it's Nathan Winners. Chef Nathan, you know, your buddy? I never stole your thong! You gotta stop that. Man, Deej owes me for this mess."

21/7-"Cop" Collar-"Usually I'm great at weathering a storm, but in this case, I gotta head back, someone has to help with club security. The big bash is a big deal. If you can get free & bring my man thong, you can get home Wieners." *pats hog tied man & leaves.*

22/7- Chef Nathan Winners- *struggles to get free* "It was a cute joke or pet name the first time. Haha, Chef Wieners. I am never helping Deej by delivering a meal to the woods again. Never stole the stupid thing!"

23/7- Chef Nathan- "I like walking thru the parks and taking the scenic route on my 4am supply runs. It's calm and quiet, plus who doesn't love getting the freshest food to cook with?"

24/7- Chef Nathan- "Did… did you not see what happened this time? That's the worst it's ever been for me. I prefer going alone and wandering the farmer's markets. No danger there, just me and the ingredients."

25/7- Chef Nathan- "I am not adventurous beyond my food. Unless you count navigating the strange people that are my friends, like Collar and Deej."

26/7- Chef Nathan- "I wander and take the long way home on nice days, but never get lost. Probably why a certain cat man calls me whenever he's hungry or lost but not lost."

27/7- Chef Nathan- "Urban legends? Not that I know of. I know a lot of food legends, and there are myths about some of the wilder things that happen in the bar's front of house."

28/7- Chef Nathan- "Is anything weirder than getting hog tied with Collar's man thong? Like seriously… I better get it back to him before he comes back to torture me more."

29/7- Antag Raven- "OMG I SING!!"

MC Sly- "… I suppose that means I shall be forced to play music?"

30/7- Yes! NO!!

SC Collar- "What do you mean no?"

BG Nathan- "You are not someone I want to turn my back on, let alone close my eyes around…" *returns the rope thong*

31/7- Sly- "Tell stories?"

Raven- "Karaoke!!!"

Collar- "Can't we just drink instead…?"

Nathan- "Time to pack, definitely time to leave camp."

#WIPJoy

2- Quick pitch? A women's journey through a life that is 'Cheers' crossed with 'Animaniacs' and surviving mostly sane. That's the Red Letters series!

3- Tweety took a breath before a gorgeously wicked smile spread her face. "Wouldn’t you like to know deary?" Shoulder lifting in a halfhearted shrug, "Probably will have to stick around to find out."

Song- Trouble for me/Britney Spears https://youtu.be/DQNm-P_1VVY

4- Woods started tuning and testing his guitar before finally deciding on the one he wanted, a wicked little smile of his own forming. Two could play this game. #RedLettersTeasers

5- Side char love?

-Malta the Cockney with a bold streak.

-Bebe that crazy friend who makes you do things.

-Roger the lynx cat with an attitude and cupcake addiction.

6- #1randomques Tweet's sorta done this before. But she'd say "It's just a woman's life, full of love, friends, and some legendary stories. It's up to you to believe me or not."

7/8- Tweet's care package includes:

-purple and red pens

-fun notebooks

-new music for her player

-cupcakes

9- Tweet likes pancakes and bacon or chicken fingers with french fries.

10- Tweet's got some food issues, being a picky eater… But Woods, another MC is allergic to cherries.

11- …close enough lol���

"He's certainly got my attention, cute little fishy he is." When both girls gave Tweety a look, she shrugged "You know like plenty of fish in the sea?" #RedLettersTeasers

12- Cupcakes. Thank goodness there is a temperamental cook or two that can make real food too…

13- #1randommques I'm a Gordon Ramsey fan. So, one char would be in trouble for the "herbs" in his brownies. Another might have a distance contest about flinging food, while a third would just be trying to figure out how to frost the chef…

14/15- Tweet has a chef to cook, but left to her own devices, it's candy. Or basics learned as a kid- cereal, quick processed foods, the no cook, doesn't expire for 5 years types of things. So, might be going to the diner to eat.

16- Tweety- "Things were rough growing up, but I always enjoyed chances to be near the water. Pools, oceans, it always called to me.

17- Antag- Brandon- "That's simple. Get off the stage, drink until that night's groupie is ready to play, and pass out around dawn."

18- Collar stepped up to the sink, like he would wash out his shirt, careful to slur his speech as well. "Swell party, til your drink ends up on your gut, not in it." #RedLettersTeasers

19- Tweety- "I can't tell you that. I have a few regrets in my life, but I also try to be a private person, even in the middle of a crowded nightclub."

20- #1randomques - Let's see… My chars are glad that I have managed to overcome bouts of depression, and that I am progressively working on the crippling anxiety. But they are still concerned about what part of the brain "Tim" comes from, and the things he does…

21- Antag- Lady S- "I hired her."

22- Most tech savy- Nira, considering he runs and watching the security system

Least- Deej fries his fur on the jukebox regularly.

[jessknightintrouble-blog]

Captives Of The Cartel (2)

Chapter Two: The Interrogation of Hannah Masters

  Despite the dreadful predicament her latest assignment had found her in, Hannah had managed to doze off in her bondage and did not hear the door to the study open again. The young captive jerked into life when she felt hands start to unravel the tape over her eyes and blinked in the onset of sudden, blinding light. Sophia Elliot – bodyguard and butler of Lady Clara McCrystal -  had ventured to the windows and pulled back the curtains fully. Broad daylight streamed into the room and Hannah’s exposed eyes streamed in the brilliance of it. She looked frantically to the window to see if any passers by were looking in but then remembered that she was being held on the first floor; overlooking McCrystal Park. No-one would possibly be able to see her.

Her thoughts came thumping back to the here and now as she felt Sophia undo the ropes binding her to the chair. The overbearing figure of the bodyguard pulled Hannah sharply to her feet, and then swiftly undid her leg ropes.

  Hannah’s legs were almost dead; incredibly unsteady with all the time she had been tied up and she knew that if she tried to attack her kidnapper or break free in any way she’d have no chance. In any case, her arms and hands remained tightly bound.

  Sophia sneered at her captive and stood Hannah up straight, took her by the shoulder and pushed her towards the door of the extensive study. Hannah had little choice in the course of the journey as Elliott shoved her out further; through the doorway and down a short flight of stairs to the main hall of McCrystal’s Mansion.

  It seemed to Hannah like an eternity since she had broke into the mansion grounds; crept in through the window in the utility room by the back woods and up these very same stairs. In actuality, it was merely a few hours. Still, it was surely long enough for someone at the agency to make a move to get her back?

  Elliott was determined to keep Hannah moving. She pushed her on, down a yet narrower back stairwell to the basement pausing to pick up a riding crop from a hook on the way. The basement was huge; cavernous and centuries old, with brash, white emulsion on the walls and a high vaulted ceiling.

  On one side of the basement was an enormous wine rack about half-full of dusty bottles, but facing it, and more ominously, was her Ladyship; standing on a wooden step ladder in the dead centre of the room looping a rope pulley over an old butchers hook in the timber joist. Lady Clara was immaculate; clad in jodphurs and long leather riding boots with a white satin blouse and her dark hair swept back from her face. As she was hauled into the room, Hannah screamed uncontrollably into the gag and her body shuddered at the thought of what horrors lay in wait for her.

  “Ah, my dear Hannah. How nice to see you again. You slept well I trust?” The Lady gave her a smile that would have been quite alluring under other circumstances. “Now, we must continue from last night. You’ll understand that I need to know what you were looking for in my study and moreover, what that blasted Ms. Woods knows – or thinks she knows - about me.” The Lady took a slight step closer and grinned again. “So, the question is: are you going to tell us what we need to know, or are myself and Sophia here going to have to get a little bit rough with you?”

 Hannah’s mouth was still held captive under several layers of tape. The young girl shook her head rapidly and mumbled something along the lines of “No, no, no... never” into the thick gag. The Lady evidently could not decipher the muffled words but took them to be a negative response; just as she expected. Lady Clara stared hard at her young captive, and was forming opinions in her head; this Hannah Masters character was obviously a tough kid and presumably well trained, if the grapevine tales of the ‘Woods Detective Agency’ had any substance.

  “Untie her arms Ms. Elliott, then place her hands in front of her, if you would be so kind.”

  Soon enough, Hannah was cruelly and tautly strung up with her hands high above her head; stretched right to the pulley so her booted toes just touched the ground. Already, the strain was like fire in her arms. She squealed and whimpered into the gag as she tried to deal with the pain and the perilous predicament.

  Hannah’s mind slipped into a place it always did when she was up against it. Really up against it. She wondered: ‘What would Jenny do?”

  The ‘Jenny’ in question was Jenny Masters; Hannah’s older sister. She was Megan Woods’ first recruit at the Agency, and was now such a part of the organization she was more akin to a partner to Woods than an employee. To Hannah, Jenny was always as much a guardian as a sister, their parents had died tragically when Hannah was very young. More than that, Jenny was her role model: she was tough and super-cool and had always looked after her, even going to the extent of getting her a job in her office, before pushing her forward for promotion to detective. If Jenny was here, she’d know exactly what to do to get her out of the clutches of these fiends.

  Still, in her extreme peril and desperation, the thought of Jenny was of little consolation to her. Her sister was in the midst of a well-earned vacation, and wouldn’t be able to save her from this one. But maybe Megan still would.

  As Elliott finished tying her up again; legs at ankles and thighs with coils of the same white, rough rope, Lady Clara cut through Hannah’s gag and unwound it form her head and hair, then pulled it harshly from her mouth. Hannah gasped hard, licked her lips in apprehension and tried to regain her breath and the control of her voice.

  “Now, like I said: we will continue immediately from last night and I didn’t sleep well, so you will understand my temper is short. I wish to know most of all why you were looking through my file on Emiliano Ortega and his business associates. Why is Ms. Woods so concerned about my lifestyle and my business contacts all of a sudden? And, more pertinently, what you think we ought to do with your captive, lovely young body now...”

  Hannah glared at her aristocratic captor, kept her mouth shut and tried to think quickly. She was now in this well over her head and needed to come up with something really spectacular. Her dilemma was: even if she broke her vows to Megan and told the Lady and her Tramp everything she knew, Hannah didn’t believe for one second that she would then get in touch with the Police, or much less let her go.

  “I am waiting, rather more patiently than you deserve, Miss Masters.” Lady Clara gave a thin smile: she could see the turmoil building on the gorgeous face of the captive Hannah.

  “Here. Let me help make up your mind.” The Lady grabbed the riding crop from Sophia’s grasp, and, borne of years of practice, flicked it across her smooth bottom, which was poured into the skinny jeans. The denim succeeded in absorbing some of the blow. Hannah yelped in fear-filled pain, and tried to jerk away from her aggressor.

  “Pull her jeans down, Miss Elliott.”

 “No!”

  Hannah shook her head and tried to evade her but Sophia gripped her in place, unbuckled her belt and pulled her tight jeans down to her knees, exposing her pert young ass cheeks divided by a black thong.

  Elliott stepped back, and her Lady took in the sight for a moment, before raising the crop once again.

  This whipping continued for some time; after some ten or fifteen minutes the Lady grew fed up with Hannah’s screams and gagged her once again, this time with a large, red ball gag - very tightly buckled around her head.

 The Lady placed the crop aside, and began moving her hands over other parts of Hannah’s body, most fervently over her breasts. There was a further half an hour of teasing and molestation of her prisoner before Hannah hung sobbing in her ropes; utterly defeated.

  “Do I need to whip you again? Or do you realise how far I can go...” Lady McCrystal growled, very close to Hannah’s face. She pulled the drool-soaked ball from Hannah’s mouth, allowing it to fall around her neck.

  “Stop it, please stop it… I’ll tell you what I know...” Hannah choked, spluttered and pleaded.

  “Tough, but not quite tough enough.” Elliott sneered, circling the trembling Hannah.

  Lady McCrystal grinned wildly, and sat back on a wine crate beside Elliott to listen with mounting interest at the story that poured from the lips of her hostage.

  It seemed that Megan Woods had been tracking Lady Clara McCrystal for over two years.

  The saga had begun when the Lady had messed up one of Woods’ own personal bodyguard protection jobs on a politician’s wife by demeaning her; using her power with the press to issue widespread reports about the gross misuse of public funds. In the elapsing time since this ‘Hammond Incident’, Woods had been keeping a close eye on the Lady’s public and private business deals; publicly, she acted as a so-called ‘fixer’ for companies wishing to do business globally but particularly in South America, due to her extensive list of contacts for which the Lady took enormous commissions.

 Privately, Woods was also certain that the Lady also had a more sinister racket. Woods believed McCrystal and her allies provided girls for the omnipotent crime lord Emiliano Ortega; girls who disappeared south of the border into his Columbian cartels and beyond, and were never seen or heard of again. ‘White Slavery’, some quarters of the media deemed it, whenever they dared to go anywhere near Ortega’s fear-inducing name. The girls in question were not the usual showgirls and hookers but more well to do, educated career girls who catered to a different clientele of ‘Masters’. McCrystal always chose cunningly; preying on girls who had announced an intention to travel abroad; so they were not missed for months and by which time the trail was very cold.

  Woods had a dossier; documents containing sparse details of some eleven women over a four or five year period, but with not enough evidence to hold up in court against McCrystal’s crack team of lawyers, and the sleuth knew it. However, it seemed the conniving Lady Clara had for once chosen poorly for the last girl. Emilia Ford was the daughter of one of her best friends; for whom Megan was Godmother.

  Thus, the trail had now became personal for Woods and she had vigorously stepped up her work to find concrete proof. Now, it seemed McCrystal and Elliott were quite up to date with the tale: Woods had sent Hannah Masters; her finest young agent, into the mansion to uncover something in the files to satisfy the Police. Alas, her plan had not gone too swimmingly.

  At the end of Hannah’s long, sobbing litany, Lady McCrystal nodded slowly and sagely.

  “She’s getting very good you know; but I’m still five steps ahead of this meddling little bitch. Now, her next move. Presumably she will send another one of her young harlots round to check if you got in or not. I perhaps would do the same, in her position. We need to be ready for that, Elliott. And you, my dear Miss Masters, also need to be cleaned up and kept tucked away, nicely out of sight.”

  Lady Clara sighed heavily.

   “Take her away, Ms. Elliott.”

  Sophia Elliott knelt to untie Hannah’s legs then loosened the rope around her wrists. The young detective sagged and almost collapsed directly to the ground with fatigue.

  The tough bodyguard loomed over Hannah, using her towering frame to menacing, degrading effect.

   “Stand up bitch, and get up those stairs. Keep your hands up so I can see them all the time. And don’t you dare try anything stupid.” She looked at him bleakly but saw even less sympathy in her eyes than her voice as she turned and staggered – almost drunkenly - to the stairs.

  “Hands up, Missy. NOW!” Sophia roared. Hannah had forgotten her order and quickly raised her hands up, wincing with the pain as she did so. It was difficult climbing the stairs with her hands held high; especially as her legs were still somewhat dead and unresponsive but somehow, slowly, the intrepid young detective managed it. How she was going to manage to get out of this ordeal was altogether another matter for Hannah Masters now.