nymphlee211
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written by Relent< see if you can figure out which "Kristin" this is...enjoy!
Heather clipped along at a quick pace, carrying an armful of papers in one hand and a cardboard Starbuck’s cup-carrier in the other, balancing the two coffees as she braced the papers to her chest.
She made it from the bus stop to the theater gate, without dropping a single sheet before she ran into a security guard at the back entrance. Without a free hand to show him her backstage pass, she had to get him to remember her face from all of the other rehearsals she’d attended in the last week--granted those rehearsals were done without the rewritten script, and she was of course assuming that it had been the same security guard every time. But somehow she got him to finally believe her and wave her through, and in the process of brushing past his bulky contour she lost one of the coffees to the floor, his shirt, and his lap. She didn’t have time to apologize, and blurted something mildly empathetic as she dropped the cardboard carrier and took the remaining cup in her hand, shifting her elbow tighter into her diaphragm to hold onto a few loosened sheets slipping slowly from the packet. Through some manner of miracle, she managed to arrive on time to the stage, but found it confoundingly empty. The sets were still in mid-construction, the same as the day before, and there was no coach or director anywhere to be seen, only their empty chairs and an overturned megaphone. She put the coffee on the stage floor and in stooping, she dropped her payload of scripts. She blew out an exasperated breath, looking around he stage one last time before deciding she’d misread a schedule or something.
Heather looked out into the empty seats and felt unnerved at how many people it was possible to fit in this single room. The thought of performing in so full a house made her nauseous, and just as her head was beginning to swim she felt two simultaneous pokes just above either of her hips.
“MEEEP!” she squealed in surprise, barely side-stepping the coffee cup in front of her as she turned around to greet her assailant.
Kristin smiled from behind her clipboard, stifling a satisfied giggle at her successful ambush.
“Where is everyone?” Heather finally gasped between exhausted pants. She’d just barely been able to stay in her skin.
“Everyone? We’re everyone.” Kristen replied cutely, gesturing to the whole of the stage as if the two of them were so grand.
Heather couldn’t help but return her enthusiasm, though she did it in fewer words. She’d been invited to this private rehearsal by Kristin herself, and though that in itself was such an honor, she hadn’t expected the engagement to be nearly this exclusive. Afterall, she was just an intern. Granted, the play was of relatively low production value, and only in its early stages of casting, there should have been at least one other person--a personal assistant, or gopher--someone with whom Heather could hold some sort of familiarity of station in this big empty place. But she felt misplaced alone with the actress, despite her friendly mannerisms and playful smile.
“So as you know,” Kristin began, folding her hands in one another with her index fingers extended in front of her lips. “We have yet to cast an understudy for me, or an actress to play Dona, but I’m not the kind of woman who will let shortcomings of production hinder my preparation for a role.” she spoke almost severely, behind her excited eyes and faintly smiling lips.
“So.” she said quickly, interrupting her own stillness “I need you to help me rehearse the role of Madam Belle. I’m not nearly comfortable enough playing such a villainous role for the first time to show up at the official rehearsal dates with my current level of preparation. So I’ve arranged for your schedule to include my private rehearsals here after close. I can’t act as well alone; I’ll step all over the other actor’s lines if I don’t practice my pauses. You know how that is?”
Heather stared at her with a slackened jaw, awe-struck by the opportunity. She was--at least for the time being--the understudy of an award-winning actress. She hadn’t even graduated from the Academy of Performing Arts in her local community college yet.
What made her even more excited was Kristin’s own evident nervousness: She, a seasoned professional, made weak-kneed by some bad-guy-part because she’d never played one before. She was human.
“I..I--uh…” she mumbled, smoothing her hair behind her ears, and looking at the coffee on the floor.
“Don’t be so nervous. If you screw up, only I’ll know.” she laughed, giving Heather a good-natured shove. “Besides, all you have to do is read the lines marked ‘[Dona]’, and the narrative commands in red brackets.”
Heather looked along the floor at the scattered papers, and began carefully picking up each stack as not to dislodge their binder clips. She quickly stuffed them together with their pages in order, and set two of them on the floor, while holding two for Kristen and herself.
“I don’t have very much experience with this sort of thing.” she hesitated, looking for the highlighted ‘[Dona]’ s. After reaching the character sheet listed in the front, she was horrified to learn that Dona was the lead.
“Don’t sweat it; I’m as green as you when it comes to playing mean people. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to do this with you. This piece is so low budget, that we’ll probably get maybe one or two other professionals, and a bunch of greenhorns to fill the cast; if that’s the case, I can’t risk not having my lines together. They’ll need me to have my head on straight. The life of a starlet is so fatiguing.” she said with an emphatic sigh, as she brought her wrist to her forehead like a soap-actress struck with grief. She looked under her arm and smiled to see that Heather was being persuaded, and that a relieved and excited smile had formed on her lips.
“So you’ll help me?”
“I--yes.” she stammered, though she didn’t really feel as if she had a choice.
Kristin pulled her hair back into a ponytail and did a number of vocal warm-ups while looking through the scene synopses to find which would provide the best feel for her character. She came upon several scenes in which she revealed her true identity to the male antagonist, Mr. Jim Murray on whom she had an obvious crush, but she needed to draw jealously upon that passion, as he was intrigued by her employee Dona. She pondered this a moment and considered the realistic elements she could incorporate into the role between herself and Heather. There was the obvious superiority of station, but she couldn’t conjure the slightest bit of animosity or envy from previous experience or otherwise. She was just too sweet a person, and her personability was working against her. She didn’t even look villainous: her less than intimidating 4’11’’ 90 lb frame commanded no particular authority. Her sunny, curly blonde hair made her look more girlish than her actual age, which worked well in playing characters younger than herself. But Madam Belle was an older woman than Dona, which could be made more apparent with make-up, but why should she try to stifle her sunny assets? “By day” she could be her typical cheerful typecast, and “by night” the wicked prostitute disciplinarian. But that was the rub; she hadn’t any practice being mean to anyone on stage or otherwise. She had to find someway of embracing her inner sadist, but how?
Heather on the other hand had the opposite problem. Young, naïve, and shaking like a leaf even before an empty theater, she had no experiences either impeding on her repertoire, nor bolstering her to the mental and emotional position to inspire such a role. She knew that Dona was engaged to a guy named Phillip, and worked as a manicurist, so she tried desperately to seize at the lines between her and Belle. However, the only conversation she could find between them was typical “do this, do that” and “I’m sorry” banter. She’d been making the copies earlier that day, and highlighting the appropriate character cues, but she hadn’t done a lot of reading. She was horrified of embarrassing herself in front of Kristin.
Then she heard something that was both dismaying and relieving; Kristin let out an exasperated groan that escalated into an aimless scream, before throwing her script somewhere into the darkness outside of the spotlight’s field of illumination. Then she started to laugh.
“This is haaaard.” she giggled, with a furrowed brow. Even when she was frustrated she smiled. She stamped her little foot and began to rub small circles into her temples with the tips of her index fingers. “what do mean people sound like, Heather?”
Heather thought a moment, and shouted “Hey wide ass!” she said in a raspy voice to sound like a construction worker she recalled near her apartment, but before she could continue Kristin had began to laugh hysterically. It was an infectious, musical little tune that squeaked out of her tiny body that soon induced Heather to follow suit. She watched her tiny form shake with laughter, and was truly jealous of her immaculate figure, but not jealous in an indemnifying way; more like how one could look upon the sculpture of a human figure and feel enlightened, however inferior to it. Though her own figure was nothing to be scoffed at, her youth insured her insecurity. She was a little taller than Kristin at a petite 5’4’’ and about 107 lbs, but somehow had smaller breast than her. Kristin’s breasts were probably the greatest contributor to her total weights, and probably one of the few things that kept her walking on earth rather than hovering across it. Her feet certainly played no role in her earthly contact; so small and delicate looking even inside her size 5 reebok sneakers, Heather felt like Frankenstein’s monster in her comparatively larger size 8 ballet flats. Even though she’d dressed to impress Kristen in a knee length white dress with large delicate black flowers printed on its bust and hem, she still felt outdone by Kristin in her white tank top and pink Ed Hardy sweat pants. There was just something angelic glowing within her; something that couldn’t have been human.
Kristin was finally able to catch her breath after her brief intermission of hysterics, wiping a tear from the corner of one eye.
“Oh my god, that SO caught me off guard,” she giggled, turning to Heather in dismayed laughter. “I’m so off track now.” she pouted, stamping her little foot playfully.
“Sorry…” Heather said stifling a smile.
Kristin made another high-pitched grunt, and tapped her knuckles on either side of her crown. “We have to try something else. There was an exercise we used to have to do in a camp I went to once, called ‘Physical Circumstancing.’ It’s specifically for defining the relationships between characters, but it’s a little extreme. Are you in?”
Heather couldn’t say no.
The actress looked around for something they could use while she retrieved her script from somewhere in the darkness. “We haven’t had our props delivered yet, so we’ll have to improv based on what the builders left.” Another stage light came on, illuminating the piles of fabric and curtain wire left on the half built bedroom set. A few lights out in the theater flashed on and off as she muttered “Oops” and “not that one” until the third segment of stage was lit, on which there were some segments of barricade fencing and orange plastic netting. Otherwise they had taken the tools home, and put anything that hadn’t been nailed down in some off-location storage unit.
“I think..” Kristen began, chewing on her thumb. “I have an idea. But it may be a bit radical for you.”
“I’m fine with anything.” Heather said bravely, walking toward where Kristen stood.
“You’re sure?’ Kristin said, with an apprehensive smile.
“It’s not like anybody will know how badly we goof up here today. And if it’ll help you, I’ll do it.”
Kristin hesitated a moment, before walking across the stage to the PVC coated curtain wire. It was surprisingly flexible, almost like dock rope, but with no friction.
“I think…I need to tie you up.”
Heather’s eyes went wide, and she tried to contain her first immediate response and feign confusion or fear. Secretly she’d had many bondage fantasies in the past, but had never had an opportunity to really act on them.
“Okay..” she said coyly, trying to seem nervous, though she was really quite eager.
“Don’t worry, its for the exercise.” Kristin reassured her, holding the wire behind her as she walked backward to the barricade fences. She said it almost maniacally, with a strange smile Heather had never seen on her before. She looked like a cat with a new toy.
Heather followed her across the stage, and stopped just short of the barricade fence.
“Well? Now what?” Heather said with a wide smile, visibly excited now that she was within Kristin’s reach.
Kristin walked slowly, almost pedantically around her, making four complete circuits before stopping at her rear. When Heather attempted to turn around, she felt her tiny hands on her arm, keeping her still.
Next she felt the wire around her wrists, each being pulled to the middle of the arch in her back. She then proceeded to wrap the long coil of heavy wire around Heather’s torso and biceps, pinning her arms to her body, and keeping her wrists still.
Heather’s genuine concern was that she would start having certain “reactions” to the tying, and embarrass herself in front of this woman she so strongly admired, but other than her pinned arms, she still felt surprisingly free. It seemed more like something in a Johnny Quest cartoon than out of one of the various BDSM videos stored on her computer at home.
But then to her surprise, another length of wire came from over her shoulder, sliding from beneath the loose coil around her. The end, almost as if sentient, slid through the bars of the first barricade, before Kristin’s small firm hand appeared on the other side to guide it back through and inside the coil again, coming over her other shoulder so that a “V” had been formed underneath the “Johnny Quest” coil.
“So what does this do exactly?..” Heather couldn’t help but ask.
“Hold on, it’s not finished. I have to concentrate or I’ll mess it up.” Kristin replied in a less than direct murmur, engrossed in her task.
She continued to pull on the wire even after it had passed Heather’s shoulder, and Heather began to realize she was being pulled down. She awkwardly resisted the pull, and stumbled forward toward the barricade until the cold metal rail stopped both her progression and her descent. If Kristin had been any other actor, she would fear that she had walked into some sort of rapist’s trap. She laughed to herself at the very notion.
But bent over and helpless as she was, she was certainly feeling a connection to the production’s title.
Kristin finished the tie by wrapping the loose ends of wire around either side of Heather’s torso, just beside her biceps, inside the barricade. This technique caused a subtly tightening vice-like effect on Heather’s upper body and before long she realized she was completely paralyzed from the waist up, stooped over like a catholic school girl in punition. It certainly didn’t help that she was wearing a skirt.
Kristin gave Heather a quick swat on the butt, making her squeak and jump a little, before she inquired,
“I’m sorry, you were saying before?”
“Oh, just…what does this do other than leave the wrong impression to some onlooker?” she giggled.
“Don’t worry about onlookers; the set’s completely closed. Even the security guard won’t see you.”
Heather had a fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she couldn’t place why.
“As for reason, it’s a physical embodiment of our characters’ personal circumstances. I’m drawing off of the energy that you and I already have as actress and intern. You have to do ALMOST anything I say, right?”
“Right..?”
“Same as Belle and Dona; employee, employer. But then there’s the next step toward master and commander as Dona gets swept in to this behind the scenes stuff.”
“This is very much behind the scenes…” Heather mused, receiving another playful swat.
“Well, it’s a lot like what I’ve done here. You’ve gone from being able to deny me in some regards to being unable to resist me at all. Do you feel that transition of emotion?” Kristen began to bump her pelvis suggestively into Heather’s backside as she swung her hand playfully above her bottom.
“Pish! Pish! Get it?” she giggled.
Heather did understand it, and was grasping the rhyme and reason of the exercise, but was still distracted by something else.
“I think so,” she laughed. “can I get untied yet?”
“Hm…no. Not yet.” Kristin replied, as she wandered back to the center stage to get her coffee.
“What do we have left to do?” Heather asked temperately. She hadn’t seen or heard Kristen walk away. “Kristin?” she tried to look over her shoulder but couldn’t turn. She was feeling genuine apprehension.
The first thing she felt upon Kristin’s return was a surprising cold jolt on her butt as she lay a clipboard there. She tried to shake it off, but couldn’t get enough momentum in her hips bound as she was.
“There’s also the trust issue between the two characters. Dona believes that her employer has her best interest at heart, but that all changes toward the end when she realizes the business she’s in and the situation she’s allowed herself to fall into.” she held the script against the clipboard on Heather’s butt with one hand, while sipping her coffee with the other.
“I already trust you, but do you want to do that stupid falling-exercise or something?” Heather asked, still trying to get the clipboard off.
“No, I have to find a way to make you question your trust of me. You get it?”
“Not at all.” she laughed nervously.
“I’m not going to hit you.” she heard her say as the weight was lifted off of her back.
“What?”
A gust of air passed over her behind that made her jump.
“Kristin, what the hell??” she laughed, though she began visibly struggling.
Another torrent of air was propelled by the clipboard as Kristin carefully aimed just above Heather’s ass.
This transpired several times until Heather finally stopped moving, confident that Kristin really wasn’t going to hit her. And then…
WHACK!!
“Kristin!!” Heather screamed in surprise, but not in any real pain.
“See? That’s the lack of confidence you have to draw on. You okay?”
“I don’t get this. Could you untie me?”
“Please, not right now. I’m just now starting to feel it. Another 15 min or so, ok?” Kristin pleaded, folding her hands in a begging posture, though Heather couldn’t see them.
“Ugh, fine…” she conceded.
“Good girl.” Kristin said, patting Heather’s cheeks like a stabled mare.
The truth of the matter was that Heather was becoming far too aroused to proceed comfortably into this unmarked territory. Several more hits like that and she’d be soaking.
Two fakes, and a hit.
One fake, and two hits.
Three solid hits.
She was squirming where she stood, her cheeks turning a flushed pink beneath her dress.
Two hits, one fake, and another hit.
One hit.
One hit.
Three hits.
Three fakes.
One hit.
Her groin was beginning to ache, her cheeks beginning to glow with a slow-burning sting.
One hit.
One hit.
One hit.
One hit.
One hit.
She was beginning to groan softly, clamping her thighs together.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom? Have I whipped the piss outta ya?” Kristin teased, patting her thigh.
“Yes, actually.” Heather grunted, curling her fingers against her bonds.
“Oh, well alright. One last thing though.”
“God, whaaat?” she shimmied her knees back and forth.
“Just another apparent quirk of Madame Belle’s.” she put the edge of the clipboard under Heather’s skirt and lifted the hem just slightly.
“Kristen-n!!” Heather moaned in protest.
“Wow, I really lit you up!” she giggled.
“I’m gonna burst, Kristin-n!” she was shaking.
“Alright, just a sec.” Kristin said gently as she leaned over Heather to reach her knots. Heather’s skirt, in Kristin’s haste, had been left to fall to either side of her hips leaving her bottom bare against Kristin’s waist.
She started at either of Heather’s arms, snaking her own tiny appendages on either side of her bound torso, sliding her fingers along the coils to find the knots she’d done. Heather began squirming against her, biting her lip as some undeniable force began to manifest in her diaphragm.
“hee…heeheehee…”
“What’s so funny?” Kristin asked, more than a little confused as she continued probing into Heather’s sides for the knots.
“it’s notheeheeng. You’re just tickling me-HEE!!” she was interrupted by an accidental prod just above her hip.
“Sorry about that. I can’t figure out where my knots went.” she replied apologetically. “Maybe they’re down here…” she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around Heather’s torso. Poking aimlessly at he unseen, she searched for the knots on Heather’s ventral side. Despite Heather’s upper body being almost completely consumed by wires, Kristin’s hands moved quite freely inside them, tickling like mad.
She began to kick and twist, crossing her legs and standing on one foot, trying to keep herself from squealing.
“You’ve got to hold still or I’ll lose my place.” Kristin said with both amusement and exasperation.
“I cahahaannnt!” she replied squeamishly, jerking away as her hands found a spot on her obliques right beneath her ribs. “Oh-GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAWD!!” she began stomping her feet, trying to shake the small actress off of her captured form.
“Jeezus! You’re impossible!” Kristin laughed, continuing her search. “You’d better not pee on me!”
“I don’t hahahave to gohoho aneehehehehenmohohorrrrr!” Heather screamed as her hands began to prod around her hips.
“You don’t? I thought you were going to burst before?” Kristen paused with a quizzical expression, her distinguished brow wrinkling slightly.
Heather tossed her hair over one shoulder in an attempt to look behind her, but could only see the straps of her dress.
“Were you just trying to sneak out, then?” Kristin teased as she began to playfully poke inside Heather’s thighs.
“NOHO! I wasn’t, I swear. I just do-hohohohohohont!!!” Kristin was using two fingers now in the pit of each thigh to make alternating little scratches. Heather’s words were lost in a fit of laughter as she kicked and writhed against the wire.
“PLEEHEHEHEHEZ STAHAHAHAHAP!!!!”
“You threw off my whole groove; now I have to start being mean aaaall over again.” Kristin sang, as she cupped her hands and began to put little resonations of pressure on her femoral tendons and groin muscles. Her knees went weak, it tickled so much.
Her laughter became a strained wheezing punctuated by long periods of silent shivering.
“You’re REALLY ticklish.” Kristin observed, as she slowly brought her hands from within the ropes to rest her arms against Heather’s back. She was one hop away from sitting on her back like a derby jockey.
Heather only panted in reply.
As she let her intern catch her breath, she smoothed her long dark hair to one side, as if comforting some wounded animal. She had a pensive stare upon her otherwise sunny countenance, and finally asked,
“So why were you trying so desperately to get out before? You didn’t have to lie to me.”
“It was…It was nothing” Heather breathed.
“Do you have some history of abuse? Or some sort of phobia? You were really about to have a fit before.”
“It’s nothing like that…” she tried to tilt her head away from her stroking fingers.
“Well then what is it like? If you’ve got anything stored up there--” she tapped Heather’s scalp-- “that could help you with your character, now’s the time to let it out. Nobody has to know; just tell me so I can help you use it.”
“It doesn’t have to do with anything, I promise. Can we try another technique?”
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“Not in a physical way, no…”
“Then not a chance. This is the first time I’ve gotten you to feel something for your role, and the first time I’ve felt something for mine. Tough it out, sister.”
Heather kicked one leg backward as if she had any hope of hitting Kristin’s knee, and let out a long grunt.
“…fine.” she said puffed. But she wasn’t really annoyed.
“You’ve got to let me know what’s going on with you, though.” Kristin commanded empathetically. “If you’re going to keep being stubborn, I’ll just tickle it outta yas!” she teased.
She couldn’t help but notice Heather immediately stiffen at her threat.
“Aaaahhhh, I think I found your kryptonite little missy. You better start talking.”
She spidered her fingers along Heather’s thighs, making her kick but she didn’t reply.
But she wasn’t quiet for very long. Kristin dug in with both hands on either side of Heather’s pelvis, not relenting until she conceded.
“OKAYHAHAHAY-YYY!!!” she squealed at length, her eyes damp with perspiration and humor.
Kristin waited patiently with her hands still on either side of her hips.
“I may…have been a little more into it than I expected…” she said timidly.
“Into it? What, the spanking?” she tapped Heather’s bare cheeks with either hand.
“Mhm…”
There was a long pause.
Then Heather’s skirts began to move upward.
“Kristin?” she asked shyly, “what are you going to do?”
After a quick inspection of her captive intern’s wetness, she replied, “I think the only logical thing to do is to finish you. You’ll be too distracted otherwise.”
Heather nearly fainted.
“Finish me??”
“Or let you do it yourself. You’ve got to get it out of your system or else it’ll keep bugging you. That’s how it works.”
“I..I couldn’t..!!”
“I think it’ll help you relax.”
“I’m not doing it!” Heather protested.
“Are you going to make me do it for you?” Kristin replied with a serious grin, something in her demeanor shifting.
“I’ll scream like bloody murder.” Heather threatened emptily, highly aroused by these circumstances but terrified of the effect it would have on their professional relationship.
“It’s a theater. People are supposed to scream here; not that there’s anyone to hear you.”
She could feel her underwear sliding down her thighs, despite her best effort to contain them between her knees. Another hard swat, this time with her hand.
“Oh fuck…” Heather panted.
There was another indeterminably long silence, in which Heather shivered and anticipated her employer’s next move. Then something long, hard and flat struck her across her buttocks. Hardly the sensation she was expecting.
“I found a yardstick.” Kristin explained simply. “I wasn’t sure how best to proceed, so I figured I’d just keep whacking you til you were all through.”
“You can’t be serious…”
“Well I’m not sure how professional it would be for us to finger-bang each other at work. So I figured if this--” she gave her another hard smack with the yardstick-- “Can make you wet, then maybe it can make you climax. Or, it’ll get you motivated enough to finish it yourself. So it’s really a win-win.”
“It’s a lose-lose for me!” Heather whined, arching her hips against another swing. “It’s so embarrassing!”
“I already told you not to worry about embarrassing yourself,” she said calmly from behind another swing. “I’ve seen everything by now: boners…”
Whack!
“…auto-ejaculation…”
Whack!
“…everyone reacts to the stress of the stage differently when they‘re nervous.”
Whack!
“The key to success is getting all that under control.”
Whack!
“Once you can control it, you can even use it.”
SMACK!
Heather really felt that last one. Her eyes were watering, and her cheeks were smoldering in a hot red blaze of rectangular marks.
“At least you’re learning this from somebody like me. You’d be surprised how many coaches and directors take advantage of their actors when they get like this.”
Whack!
“But I’m not an actress! I’m an intern!”
Kristin paused.
“Well don’t say that! Right now you’re supposed to be Dona; don’t break the fourth wall.”
Whack!
“How am I supposed to be Dona??” she cried, her clit throbbing.
Kristin changed techniques, positioning the end of the yard stick between Heather’s knees and making a series of quick upward strikes.
TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP--
“FUCK!!!”
“Think of it this way; this is your kryptonite, right? Instead of ‘kryptonite’, let’s call it ‘Phillip.’” she began, continuing her whipping. “Now let’s say Phillip is in a bit of trouble, through no fault of your own, and you’re enduring this to help him.”
“This isn’t helping ‘him!’”
“Okay, think of it this way: If you don’t do what I say, the entire staff will hear about ‘Phillip’ and for the rest of the production your ass will be an open target?”
“You’re blackmailing me??” Heather cried, her voice shaking in time to the conduction of the yardstick against her sensitive womanhood.
“If that’s what you want to call it, yes. I have Phillip under my complete control…” she turned the ruler on its side and rubbed the edge between her captive’s labia. “…and if you want to see him safe, you have to succumb to my will.”
Heather let out a long, loud moan, her knees going weak, as the ruler continued its sinister course forward and back.
“Okay….okay…” she said barely above a whisper. “Whatever you say….”
“Good.”
Whack! She’d returned to her back-swing, shocking Heather in this most pleasant of ways.
She was full-to-bursting.
Then Kristin stopped.
“Now I’m going to try to untie you, and you can go to the rest room and take care of yourself: no running off. When you get back, we can get back to work with this new ground we’ve broken. You’re doing great.”
Though she’d started to sound like her cheery old self again, Heather still felt something like fear toward her; who had that been before? It was like a totally different person.
Before she’d had much time to ponder it, she was overwhelmed by tickling sensations as Kristin reached between the wires to attempt again to untie Heather, but in the process had inadvertently prodding and poking her in her hyper-sensitized areas. Even around her breasts had become sensitive, which is to be expected of someone in her condition, but it was impossible to touch her anywhere without a squealing response.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!! I said I’d do what you wahahahahant!! No mohohohohoaaaar!!!”
“I’m not trying to torture you, I’m trying to untie you…and you’re not going to like what I just figured out…”
“What?..” Heather sobbed half-heartedly.
“I think the knots are under your arms…”
Heather stared wide-eyed into the empty space ahead of her, unable to make sympathy-inducing expressions in Kristin’s direction.
“I really need you to hold still. This should only take a second…”
“no no…noo-NONONONONOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”
With the way she was tied, there was just enough space between her torso and either arm for Kristin to slip each of her hands through to access her armpits, but the knots were tied so closely that it was impossible for her to unfurl them without a bit of inadvertent tickling.
Heather kicked and screamed and shook the railing of the barricade until she’d thoroughly exhausted herself; unable now to muster even enough energy to twitch, Kristin could untie the knots unimpeded. When Heather was free she sank to the floor like a rag doll.
Kristin scooped up as much of Heather as she could lift, and positioned herself underneath her. She was still panting from fatigue, but with her head in Kristin’s lap she felt suddenly safe.
“I don’t normally do this…so don’t go telling anyone.” Kristin whispered into her ear.
She reached down and pulled Heather’s underwear back up around he waist, before slowly and gently stroking her through the satin garment. Heather couldn’t have resisted if she’d wanted to. Gradually, through a pushing and grinding of her feet and thighs against the floor, she’d writher her hips into Kristin’s lap, giving her full reach and vantage. In the process, her skirts had tangled around her abdomen, tightening the bust of her dress so that her erect nipples were visible even beneath her brassiere. To have not been accustomed to it, Kristin’s small, delicate fingers were surprisingly talented; stroking ad flicking all the right places, without any guidance of sight. To speed things along, she ultimately slipped one hand down the waistband of the garment, and one had up the leg, using a two-pronged attack that even Heather couldn’t fully explain, though she thoroughly enjoyed it. At length, she climaxed several times before Kristin had determined that she’d “gotten it all out of her.”
“Aren’t you glad no one else is here?” she giggled as Heather shivered out her last ounce of strength. “I think now would be a good time to take a 30 min. break, don’t you?”
Heather nodded weakly behind fluttering eyelids.
Heather clipped along at a quick pace, carrying an armful of papers in one hand and a cardboard Starbuck’s cup-carrier in the other, balancing the two coffees as she braced the papers to her chest.
She made it from the bus stop to the theater gate, without dropping a single sheet before she ran into a security guard at the back entrance. Without a free hand to show him her backstage pass, she had to get him to remember her face from all of the other rehearsals she’d attended in the last week--granted those rehearsals were done without the rewritten script, and she was of course assuming that it had been the same security guard every time. But somehow she got him to finally believe her and wave her through, and in the process of brushing past his bulky contour she lost one of the coffees to the floor, his shirt, and his lap. She didn’t have time to apologize, and blurted something mildly empathetic as she dropped the cardboard carrier and took the remaining cup in her hand, shifting her elbow tighter into her diaphragm to hold onto a few loosened sheets slipping slowly from the packet. Through some manner of miracle, she managed to arrive on time to the stage, but found it confoundingly empty. The sets were still in mid-construction, the same as the day before, and there was no coach or director anywhere to be seen, only their empty chairs and an overturned megaphone. She put the coffee on the stage floor and in stooping, she dropped her payload of scripts. She blew out an exasperated breath, looking around he stage one last time before deciding she’d misread a schedule or something.
Heather looked out into the empty seats and felt unnerved at how many people it was possible to fit in this single room. The thought of performing in so full a house made her nauseous, and just as her head was beginning to swim she felt two simultaneous pokes just above either of her hips.
“MEEEP!” she squealed in surprise, barely side-stepping the coffee cup in front of her as she turned around to greet her assailant.
Kristin smiled from behind her clipboard, stifling a satisfied giggle at her successful ambush.
“Where is everyone?” Heather finally gasped between exhausted pants. She’d just barely been able to stay in her skin.
“Everyone? We’re everyone.” Kristen replied cutely, gesturing to the whole of the stage as if the two of them were so grand.
Heather couldn’t help but return her enthusiasm, though she did it in fewer words. She’d been invited to this private rehearsal by Kristin herself, and though that in itself was such an honor, she hadn’t expected the engagement to be nearly this exclusive. Afterall, she was just an intern. Granted, the play was of relatively low production value, and only in its early stages of casting, there should have been at least one other person--a personal assistant, or gopher--someone with whom Heather could hold some sort of familiarity of station in this big empty place. But she felt misplaced alone with the actress, despite her friendly mannerisms and playful smile.
“So as you know,” Kristin began, folding her hands in one another with her index fingers extended in front of her lips. “We have yet to cast an understudy for me, or an actress to play Dona, but I’m not the kind of woman who will let shortcomings of production hinder my preparation for a role.” she spoke almost severely, behind her excited eyes and faintly smiling lips.
“So.” she said quickly, interrupting her own stillness “I need you to help me rehearse the role of Madam Belle. I’m not nearly comfortable enough playing such a villainous role for the first time to show up at the official rehearsal dates with my current level of preparation. So I’ve arranged for your schedule to include my private rehearsals here after close. I can’t act as well alone; I’ll step all over the other actor’s lines if I don’t practice my pauses. You know how that is?”
Heather stared at her with a slackened jaw, awe-struck by the opportunity. She was--at least for the time being--the understudy of an award-winning actress. She hadn’t even graduated from the Academy of Performing Arts in her local community college yet.
What made her even more excited was Kristin’s own evident nervousness: She, a seasoned professional, made weak-kneed by some bad-guy-part because she’d never played one before. She was human.
“I..I--uh…” she mumbled, smoothing her hair behind her ears, and looking at the coffee on the floor.
“Don’t be so nervous. If you screw up, only I’ll know.” she laughed, giving Heather a good-natured shove. “Besides, all you have to do is read the lines marked ‘[Dona]’, and the narrative commands in red brackets.”
Heather looked along the floor at the scattered papers, and began carefully picking up each stack as not to dislodge their binder clips. She quickly stuffed them together with their pages in order, and set two of them on the floor, while holding two for Kristen and herself.
“I don’t have very much experience with this sort of thing.” she hesitated, looking for the highlighted ‘[Dona]’ s. After reaching the character sheet listed in the front, she was horrified to learn that Dona was the lead.
“Don’t sweat it; I’m as green as you when it comes to playing mean people. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to do this with you. This piece is so low budget, that we’ll probably get maybe one or two other professionals, and a bunch of greenhorns to fill the cast; if that’s the case, I can’t risk not having my lines together. They’ll need me to have my head on straight. The life of a starlet is so fatiguing.” she said with an emphatic sigh, as she brought her wrist to her forehead like a soap-actress struck with grief. She looked under her arm and smiled to see that Heather was being persuaded, and that a relieved and excited smile had formed on her lips.
“So you’ll help me?”
“I--yes.” she stammered, though she didn’t really feel as if she had a choice.
Kristin pulled her hair back into a ponytail and did a number of vocal warm-ups while looking through the scene synopses to find which would provide the best feel for her character. She came upon several scenes in which she revealed her true identity to the male antagonist, Mr. Jim Murray on whom she had an obvious crush, but she needed to draw jealously upon that passion, as he was intrigued by her employee Dona. She pondered this a moment and considered the realistic elements she could incorporate into the role between herself and Heather. There was the obvious superiority of station, but she couldn’t conjure the slightest bit of animosity or envy from previous experience or otherwise. She was just too sweet a person, and her personability was working against her. She didn’t even look villainous: her less than intimidating 4’11’’ 90 lb frame commanded no particular authority. Her sunny, curly blonde hair made her look more girlish than her actual age, which worked well in playing characters younger than herself. But Madam Belle was an older woman than Dona, which could be made more apparent with make-up, but why should she try to stifle her sunny assets? “By day” she could be her typical cheerful typecast, and “by night” the wicked prostitute disciplinarian. But that was the rub; she hadn’t any practice being mean to anyone on stage or otherwise. She had to find someway of embracing her inner sadist, but how?
Heather on the other hand had the opposite problem. Young, naïve, and shaking like a leaf even before an empty theater, she had no experiences either impeding on her repertoire, nor bolstering her to the mental and emotional position to inspire such a role. She knew that Dona was engaged to a guy named Phillip, and worked as a manicurist, so she tried desperately to seize at the lines between her and Belle. However, the only conversation she could find between them was typical “do this, do that” and “I’m sorry” banter. She’d been making the copies earlier that day, and highlighting the appropriate character cues, but she hadn’t done a lot of reading. She was horrified of embarrassing herself in front of Kristin.
Then she heard something that was both dismaying and relieving; Kristin let out an exasperated groan that escalated into an aimless scream, before throwing her script somewhere into the darkness outside of the spotlight’s field of illumination. Then she started to laugh.
“This is haaaard.” she giggled, with a furrowed brow. Even when she was frustrated she smiled. She stamped her little foot and began to rub small circles into her temples with the tips of her index fingers. “what do mean people sound like, Heather?”
Heather thought a moment, and shouted “Hey wide ass!” she said in a raspy voice to sound like a construction worker she recalled near her apartment, but before she could continue Kristin had began to laugh hysterically. It was an infectious, musical little tune that squeaked out of her tiny body that soon induced Heather to follow suit. She watched her tiny form shake with laughter, and was truly jealous of her immaculate figure, but not jealous in an indemnifying way; more like how one could look upon the sculpture of a human figure and feel enlightened, however inferior to it. Though her own figure was nothing to be scoffed at, her youth insured her insecurity. She was a little taller than Kristin at a petite 5’4’’ and about 107 lbs, but somehow had smaller breast than her. Kristin’s breasts were probably the greatest contributor to her total weights, and probably one of the few things that kept her walking on earth rather than hovering across it. Her feet certainly played no role in her earthly contact; so small and delicate looking even inside her size 5 reebok sneakers, Heather felt like Frankenstein’s monster in her comparatively larger size 8 ballet flats. Even though she’d dressed to impress Kristen in a knee length white dress with large delicate black flowers printed on its bust and hem, she still felt outdone by Kristin in her white tank top and pink Ed Hardy sweat pants. There was just something angelic glowing within her; something that couldn’t have been human.
Kristin was finally able to catch her breath after her brief intermission of hysterics, wiping a tear from the corner of one eye.
“Oh my god, that SO caught me off guard,” she giggled, turning to Heather in dismayed laughter. “I’m so off track now.” she pouted, stamping her little foot playfully.
“Sorry…” Heather said stifling a smile.
Kristin made another high-pitched grunt, and tapped her knuckles on either side of her crown. “We have to try something else. There was an exercise we used to have to do in a camp I went to once, called ‘Physical Circumstancing.’ It’s specifically for defining the relationships between characters, but it’s a little extreme. Are you in?”
Heather couldn’t say no.
The actress looked around for something they could use while she retrieved her script from somewhere in the darkness. “We haven’t had our props delivered yet, so we’ll have to improv based on what the builders left.” Another stage light came on, illuminating the piles of fabric and curtain wire left on the half built bedroom set. A few lights out in the theater flashed on and off as she muttered “Oops” and “not that one” until the third segment of stage was lit, on which there were some segments of barricade fencing and orange plastic netting. Otherwise they had taken the tools home, and put anything that hadn’t been nailed down in some off-location storage unit.
“I think..” Kristen began, chewing on her thumb. “I have an idea. But it may be a bit radical for you.”
“I’m fine with anything.” Heather said bravely, walking toward where Kristen stood.
“You’re sure?’ Kristin said, with an apprehensive smile.
“It’s not like anybody will know how badly we goof up here today. And if it’ll help you, I’ll do it.”
Kristin hesitated a moment, before walking across the stage to the PVC coated curtain wire. It was surprisingly flexible, almost like dock rope, but with no friction.
“I think…I need to tie you up.”
Heather’s eyes went wide, and she tried to contain her first immediate response and feign confusion or fear. Secretly she’d had many bondage fantasies in the past, but had never had an opportunity to really act on them.
“Okay..” she said coyly, trying to seem nervous, though she was really quite eager.
“Don’t worry, its for the exercise.” Kristin reassured her, holding the wire behind her as she walked backward to the barricade fences. She said it almost maniacally, with a strange smile Heather had never seen on her before. She looked like a cat with a new toy.
Heather followed her across the stage, and stopped just short of the barricade fence.
“Well? Now what?” Heather said with a wide smile, visibly excited now that she was within Kristin’s reach.
Kristin walked slowly, almost pedantically around her, making four complete circuits before stopping at her rear. When Heather attempted to turn around, she felt her tiny hands on her arm, keeping her still.
Next she felt the wire around her wrists, each being pulled to the middle of the arch in her back. She then proceeded to wrap the long coil of heavy wire around Heather’s torso and biceps, pinning her arms to her body, and keeping her wrists still.
Heather’s genuine concern was that she would start having certain “reactions” to the tying, and embarrass herself in front of this woman she so strongly admired, but other than her pinned arms, she still felt surprisingly free. It seemed more like something in a Johnny Quest cartoon than out of one of the various BDSM videos stored on her computer at home.
But then to her surprise, another length of wire came from over her shoulder, sliding from beneath the loose coil around her. The end, almost as if sentient, slid through the bars of the first barricade, before Kristin’s small firm hand appeared on the other side to guide it back through and inside the coil again, coming over her other shoulder so that a “V” had been formed underneath the “Johnny Quest” coil.
“So what does this do exactly?..” Heather couldn’t help but ask.
“Hold on, it’s not finished. I have to concentrate or I’ll mess it up.” Kristin replied in a less than direct murmur, engrossed in her task.
She continued to pull on the wire even after it had passed Heather’s shoulder, and Heather began to realize she was being pulled down. She awkwardly resisted the pull, and stumbled forward toward the barricade until the cold metal rail stopped both her progression and her descent. If Kristin had been any other actor, she would fear that she had walked into some sort of rapist’s trap. She laughed to herself at the very notion.
But bent over and helpless as she was, she was certainly feeling a connection to the production’s title.
Kristin finished the tie by wrapping the loose ends of wire around either side of Heather’s torso, just beside her biceps, inside the barricade. This technique caused a subtly tightening vice-like effect on Heather’s upper body and before long she realized she was completely paralyzed from the waist up, stooped over like a catholic school girl in punition. It certainly didn’t help that she was wearing a skirt.
Kristin gave Heather a quick swat on the butt, making her squeak and jump a little, before she inquired,
“I’m sorry, you were saying before?”
“Oh, just…what does this do other than leave the wrong impression to some onlooker?” she giggled.
“Don’t worry about onlookers; the set’s completely closed. Even the security guard won’t see you.”
Heather had a fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she couldn’t place why.
“As for reason, it’s a physical embodiment of our characters’ personal circumstances. I’m drawing off of the energy that you and I already have as actress and intern. You have to do ALMOST anything I say, right?”
“Right..?”
“Same as Belle and Dona; employee, employer. But then there’s the next step toward master and commander as Dona gets swept in to this behind the scenes stuff.”
“This is very much behind the scenes…” Heather mused, receiving another playful swat.
“Well, it’s a lot like what I’ve done here. You’ve gone from being able to deny me in some regards to being unable to resist me at all. Do you feel that transition of emotion?” Kristen began to bump her pelvis suggestively into Heather’s backside as she swung her hand playfully above her bottom.
“Pish! Pish! Get it?” she giggled.
Heather did understand it, and was grasping the rhyme and reason of the exercise, but was still distracted by something else.
“I think so,” she laughed. “can I get untied yet?”
“Hm…no. Not yet.” Kristin replied, as she wandered back to the center stage to get her coffee.
“What do we have left to do?” Heather asked temperately. She hadn’t seen or heard Kristen walk away. “Kristin?” she tried to look over her shoulder but couldn’t turn. She was feeling genuine apprehension.
The first thing she felt upon Kristin’s return was a surprising cold jolt on her butt as she lay a clipboard there. She tried to shake it off, but couldn’t get enough momentum in her hips bound as she was.
“There’s also the trust issue between the two characters. Dona believes that her employer has her best interest at heart, but that all changes toward the end when she realizes the business she’s in and the situation she’s allowed herself to fall into.” she held the script against the clipboard on Heather’s butt with one hand, while sipping her coffee with the other.
“I already trust you, but do you want to do that stupid falling-exercise or something?” Heather asked, still trying to get the clipboard off.
“No, I have to find a way to make you question your trust of me. You get it?”
“Not at all.” she laughed nervously.
“I’m not going to hit you.” she heard her say as the weight was lifted off of her back.
“What?”
A gust of air passed over her behind that made her jump.
“Kristin, what the hell??” she laughed, though she began visibly struggling.
Another torrent of air was propelled by the clipboard as Kristin carefully aimed just above Heather’s ass.
This transpired several times until Heather finally stopped moving, confident that Kristin really wasn’t going to hit her. And then…
WHACK!!
“Kristin!!” Heather screamed in surprise, but not in any real pain.
“See? That’s the lack of confidence you have to draw on. You okay?”
“I don’t get this. Could you untie me?”
“Please, not right now. I’m just now starting to feel it. Another 15 min or so, ok?” Kristin pleaded, folding her hands in a begging posture, though Heather couldn’t see them.
“Ugh, fine…” she conceded.
“Good girl.” Kristin said, patting Heather’s cheeks like a stabled mare.
The truth of the matter was that Heather was becoming far too aroused to proceed comfortably into this unmarked territory. Several more hits like that and she’d be soaking.
Two fakes, and a hit.
One fake, and two hits.
Three solid hits.
She was squirming where she stood, her cheeks turning a flushed pink beneath her dress.
Two hits, one fake, and another hit.
One hit.
One hit.
Three hits.
Three fakes.
One hit.
Her groin was beginning to ache, her cheeks beginning to glow with a slow-burning sting.
One hit.
One hit.
One hit.
One hit.
One hit.
She was beginning to groan softly, clamping her thighs together.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom? Have I whipped the piss outta ya?” Kristin teased, patting her thigh.
“Yes, actually.” Heather grunted, curling her fingers against her bonds.
“Oh, well alright. One last thing though.”
“God, whaaat?” she shimmied her knees back and forth.
“Just another apparent quirk of Madame Belle’s.” she put the edge of the clipboard under Heather’s skirt and lifted the hem just slightly.
“Kristen-n!!” Heather moaned in protest.
“Wow, I really lit you up!” she giggled.
“I’m gonna burst, Kristin-n!” she was shaking.
“Alright, just a sec.” Kristin said gently as she leaned over Heather to reach her knots. Heather’s skirt, in Kristin’s haste, had been left to fall to either side of her hips leaving her bottom bare against Kristin’s waist.
She started at either of Heather’s arms, snaking her own tiny appendages on either side of her bound torso, sliding her fingers along the coils to find the knots she’d done. Heather began squirming against her, biting her lip as some undeniable force began to manifest in her diaphragm.
“hee…heeheehee…”
“What’s so funny?” Kristin asked, more than a little confused as she continued probing into Heather’s sides for the knots.
“it’s notheeheeng. You’re just tickling me-HEE!!” she was interrupted by an accidental prod just above her hip.
“Sorry about that. I can’t figure out where my knots went.” she replied apologetically. “Maybe they’re down here…” she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around Heather’s torso. Poking aimlessly at he unseen, she searched for the knots on Heather’s ventral side. Despite Heather’s upper body being almost completely consumed by wires, Kristin’s hands moved quite freely inside them, tickling like mad.
She began to kick and twist, crossing her legs and standing on one foot, trying to keep herself from squealing.
“You’ve got to hold still or I’ll lose my place.” Kristin said with both amusement and exasperation.
“I cahahaannnt!” she replied squeamishly, jerking away as her hands found a spot on her obliques right beneath her ribs. “Oh-GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAWD!!” she began stomping her feet, trying to shake the small actress off of her captured form.
“Jeezus! You’re impossible!” Kristin laughed, continuing her search. “You’d better not pee on me!”
“I don’t hahahave to gohoho aneehehehehenmohohorrrrr!” Heather screamed as her hands began to prod around her hips.
“You don’t? I thought you were going to burst before?” Kristen paused with a quizzical expression, her distinguished brow wrinkling slightly.
Heather tossed her hair over one shoulder in an attempt to look behind her, but could only see the straps of her dress.
“Were you just trying to sneak out, then?” Kristin teased as she began to playfully poke inside Heather’s thighs.
“NOHO! I wasn’t, I swear. I just do-hohohohohohont!!!” Kristin was using two fingers now in the pit of each thigh to make alternating little scratches. Heather’s words were lost in a fit of laughter as she kicked and writhed against the wire.
“PLEEHEHEHEHEZ STAHAHAHAHAP!!!!”
“You threw off my whole groove; now I have to start being mean aaaall over again.” Kristin sang, as she cupped her hands and began to put little resonations of pressure on her femoral tendons and groin muscles. Her knees went weak, it tickled so much.
Her laughter became a strained wheezing punctuated by long periods of silent shivering.
“You’re REALLY ticklish.” Kristin observed, as she slowly brought her hands from within the ropes to rest her arms against Heather’s back. She was one hop away from sitting on her back like a derby jockey.
Heather only panted in reply.
As she let her intern catch her breath, she smoothed her long dark hair to one side, as if comforting some wounded animal. She had a pensive stare upon her otherwise sunny countenance, and finally asked,
“So why were you trying so desperately to get out before? You didn’t have to lie to me.”
“It was…It was nothing” Heather breathed.
“Do you have some history of abuse? Or some sort of phobia? You were really about to have a fit before.”
“It’s nothing like that…” she tried to tilt her head away from her stroking fingers.
“Well then what is it like? If you’ve got anything stored up there--” she tapped Heather’s scalp-- “that could help you with your character, now’s the time to let it out. Nobody has to know; just tell me so I can help you use it.”
“It doesn’t have to do with anything, I promise. Can we try another technique?”
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“Not in a physical way, no…”
“Then not a chance. This is the first time I’ve gotten you to feel something for your role, and the first time I’ve felt something for mine. Tough it out, sister.”
Heather kicked one leg backward as if she had any hope of hitting Kristin’s knee, and let out a long grunt.
“…fine.” she said puffed. But she wasn’t really annoyed.
“You’ve got to let me know what’s going on with you, though.” Kristin commanded empathetically. “If you’re going to keep being stubborn, I’ll just tickle it outta yas!” she teased.
She couldn’t help but notice Heather immediately stiffen at her threat.
“Aaaahhhh, I think I found your kryptonite little missy. You better start talking.”
She spidered her fingers along Heather’s thighs, making her kick but she didn’t reply.
But she wasn’t quiet for very long. Kristin dug in with both hands on either side of Heather’s pelvis, not relenting until she conceded.
“OKAYHAHAHAY-YYY!!!” she squealed at length, her eyes damp with perspiration and humor.
Kristin waited patiently with her hands still on either side of her hips.
“I may…have been a little more into it than I expected…” she said timidly.
“Into it? What, the spanking?” she tapped Heather’s bare cheeks with either hand.
“Mhm…”
There was a long pause.
Then Heather’s skirts began to move upward.
“Kristin?” she asked shyly, “what are you going to do?”
After a quick inspection of her captive intern’s wetness, she replied, “I think the only logical thing to do is to finish you. You’ll be too distracted otherwise.”
Heather nearly fainted.
“Finish me??”
“Or let you do it yourself. You’ve got to get it out of your system or else it’ll keep bugging you. That’s how it works.”
“I..I couldn’t..!!”
“I think it’ll help you relax.”
“I’m not doing it!” Heather protested.
“Are you going to make me do it for you?” Kristin replied with a serious grin, something in her demeanor shifting.
“I’ll scream like bloody murder.” Heather threatened emptily, highly aroused by these circumstances but terrified of the effect it would have on their professional relationship.
“It’s a theater. People are supposed to scream here; not that there’s anyone to hear you.”
She could feel her underwear sliding down her thighs, despite her best effort to contain them between her knees. Another hard swat, this time with her hand.
“Oh fuck…” Heather panted.
There was another indeterminably long silence, in which Heather shivered and anticipated her employer’s next move. Then something long, hard and flat struck her across her buttocks. Hardly the sensation she was expecting.
“I found a yardstick.” Kristin explained simply. “I wasn’t sure how best to proceed, so I figured I’d just keep whacking you til you were all through.”
“You can’t be serious…”
“Well I’m not sure how professional it would be for us to finger-bang each other at work. So I figured if this--” she gave her another hard smack with the yardstick-- “Can make you wet, then maybe it can make you climax. Or, it’ll get you motivated enough to finish it yourself. So it’s really a win-win.”
“It’s a lose-lose for me!” Heather whined, arching her hips against another swing. “It’s so embarrassing!”
“I already told you not to worry about embarrassing yourself,” she said calmly from behind another swing. “I’ve seen everything by now: boners…”
Whack!
“…auto-ejaculation…”
Whack!
“…everyone reacts to the stress of the stage differently when they‘re nervous.”
Whack!
“The key to success is getting all that under control.”
Whack!
“Once you can control it, you can even use it.”
SMACK!
Heather really felt that last one. Her eyes were watering, and her cheeks were smoldering in a hot red blaze of rectangular marks.
“At least you’re learning this from somebody like me. You’d be surprised how many coaches and directors take advantage of their actors when they get like this.”
Whack!
“But I’m not an actress! I’m an intern!”
Kristin paused.
“Well don’t say that! Right now you’re supposed to be Dona; don’t break the fourth wall.”
Whack!
“How am I supposed to be Dona??” she cried, her clit throbbing.
Kristin changed techniques, positioning the end of the yard stick between Heather’s knees and making a series of quick upward strikes.
TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP--
“FUCK!!!”
“Think of it this way; this is your kryptonite, right? Instead of ‘kryptonite’, let’s call it ‘Phillip.’” she began, continuing her whipping. “Now let’s say Phillip is in a bit of trouble, through no fault of your own, and you’re enduring this to help him.”
“This isn’t helping ‘him!’”
“Okay, think of it this way: If you don’t do what I say, the entire staff will hear about ‘Phillip’ and for the rest of the production your ass will be an open target?”
“You’re blackmailing me??” Heather cried, her voice shaking in time to the conduction of the yardstick against her sensitive womanhood.
“If that’s what you want to call it, yes. I have Phillip under my complete control…” she turned the ruler on its side and rubbed the edge between her captive’s labia. “…and if you want to see him safe, you have to succumb to my will.”
Heather let out a long, loud moan, her knees going weak, as the ruler continued its sinister course forward and back.
“Okay….okay…” she said barely above a whisper. “Whatever you say….”
“Good.”
Whack! She’d returned to her back-swing, shocking Heather in this most pleasant of ways.
She was full-to-bursting.
Then Kristin stopped.
“Now I’m going to try to untie you, and you can go to the rest room and take care of yourself: no running off. When you get back, we can get back to work with this new ground we’ve broken. You’re doing great.”
Though she’d started to sound like her cheery old self again, Heather still felt something like fear toward her; who had that been before? It was like a totally different person.
Before she’d had much time to ponder it, she was overwhelmed by tickling sensations as Kristin reached between the wires to attempt again to untie Heather, but in the process had inadvertently prodding and poking her in her hyper-sensitized areas. Even around her breasts had become sensitive, which is to be expected of someone in her condition, but it was impossible to touch her anywhere without a squealing response.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!! I said I’d do what you wahahahahant!! No mohohohohoaaaar!!!”
“I’m not trying to torture you, I’m trying to untie you…and you’re not going to like what I just figured out…”
“What?..” Heather sobbed half-heartedly.
“I think the knots are under your arms…”
Heather stared wide-eyed into the empty space ahead of her, unable to make sympathy-inducing expressions in Kristin’s direction.
“I really need you to hold still. This should only take a second…”
“no no…noo-NONONONONOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”
With the way she was tied, there was just enough space between her torso and either arm for Kristin to slip each of her hands through to access her armpits, but the knots were tied so closely that it was impossible for her to unfurl them without a bit of inadvertent tickling.
Heather kicked and screamed and shook the railing of the barricade until she’d thoroughly exhausted herself; unable now to muster even enough energy to twitch, Kristin could untie the knots unimpeded. When Heather was free she sank to the floor like a rag doll.
Kristin scooped up as much of Heather as she could lift, and positioned herself underneath her. She was still panting from fatigue, but with her head in Kristin’s lap she felt suddenly safe.
“I don’t normally do this…so don’t go telling anyone.” Kristin whispered into her ear.
She reached down and pulled Heather’s underwear back up around he waist, before slowly and gently stroking her through the satin garment. Heather couldn’t have resisted if she’d wanted to. Gradually, through a pushing and grinding of her feet and thighs against the floor, she’d writher her hips into Kristin’s lap, giving her full reach and vantage. In the process, her skirts had tangled around her abdomen, tightening the bust of her dress so that her erect nipples were visible even beneath her brassiere. To have not been accustomed to it, Kristin’s small, delicate fingers were surprisingly talented; stroking ad flicking all the right places, without any guidance of sight. To speed things along, she ultimately slipped one hand down the waistband of the garment, and one had up the leg, using a two-pronged attack that even Heather couldn’t fully explain, though she thoroughly enjoyed it. At length, she climaxed several times before Kristin had determined that she’d “gotten it all out of her.”
“Aren’t you glad no one else is here?” she giggled as Heather shivered out her last ounce of strength. “I think now would be a good time to take a 30 min. break, don’t you?”
Heather nodded weakly behind fluttering eyelids.
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