Stories of Tie Up Games

Royal Secrets: Part 1
Princess Seraphina of the small kingdom of Valoria was notorious for her unpleasant demeanor and overwhelming sense of entitlement. Her sharp tongue and cold eyes belied her delicate, regal appearance. She treated her subjects with disdain, expecting unwavering obedience and lavish gifts at her slightest whim. Her tantrums were legendary, echoing through the castle halls whenever something failed to meet her exacting standards, making life in Valoria a constant effort to avoid her ire.

Being hired and flown in from abroad from my humble lifestyle to work for Princess Seraphina felt like stepping into a world of luxury and constant demands. The princess, with her haughty demeanor and air of entitlement, expected nothing less than perfection. Each day was a test of patience, navigating her whims and exacting standards, as she treated everyone around her with a blend of indifference and superiority. The ornate palace, while stunning, became a gilded cage where pleasing the imperious princess was the only way to survive.

When I was hired to investigate the threats of kidnappings against Princess Seraphina of Valoria, I knew it wouldn’t be an ordinary case. The small country’s political tensions and the princess’s notorious reputation for being unpleasant and entitled only complicated matters. As I delved into the shadows of the opulent palace, questioning wary servants and scanning for hidden dangers, the weight of the task grew heavier. Protecting a princess who seemed to scorn everyone around her added an unexpected challenge to the already daunting mission.

I was making my early afternoon rounds with Mr. Huxley, Head of Security for Valoria Palace, checking for compromises and possible entry points for the anticipated attempted abduction of Princess Seraphina. We moved methodically through the grand halls of the palace, our footsteps echoing against the marble floors. Our eyes constantly scanned their surroundings, taking in the intricate tapestries and opulent decor with practiced vigilance. We communicated in low, concise whispers, ensuring every corner and shadow was checked. The light pouring in from the large windows cast shifting shadows, adding an air of suspense to our routine patrol, as they remained ever alert for any sign of threat within the royal residence.

The stillness of the palace was soon disturbed by the berating clamor of Princess Seraphina scolding her two personal assistants, Charlotte and Abigail. Mr. Huxley and I paused as she came steamrolling down the hallway, blending into our surroundings, while Princess Seraphina chastised the pair.

The sound of Princess Seraphina’s heels click clacking on the marble floor echoed throughout the lavishly decorated chamber, her eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. “How many times must I repeat myself?” she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. Charlotte and Abigail her, heads bowed, their faces flushed with a mix of embarrassment and fear. “This is unacceptable! I expect perfection, not this… incompetence.” She waved a hand dismissively at a decorative floral arrangements that failed to meet her exacting standards. “Do it again, and this time, get it right,” she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument as she turned sharply on her heel, her frustration palpable in the tense silence that followed.

She paused, seemingly taking notice of myself and Mr. Huxley’s presence in the room. She turned towards us, addressing us sternly. “You two! The ones my mother hired as an overreaction to the very unsubstantiated threats of my kidnapping. I assure you that I am in no danger - and I expect you stay out of my way!”
Princess Seraphina turned and quickly exited the chamber through a set of double doors at the far end, each door an imposing slab of carved wood with brass handles shaped like mythical creatures. Charlotte and Abigail were in tow.

“That was interesting,” I muttered, unimpressed.

“The interesting thing would be the results of the background investigations I ordered for her assistants, Charlotte and Abigail. It is possible they may not be who they seem,” he replied.
“What are you alluding to?” I asked.

“It seems they both have very lengthy, very criminal histories. Charlotte London - specialized in high-stakes identity theft and elaborate financial scams, using her charm and intelligence to defraud wealthy individuals and corporations alike. Abigail Paris - quickly rose through the ranks of a notorious gang. Her record included armed robbery, assault, and - - kidnapping.”

My eyebrows raised in interest. “One would wonder how they were able to secure jobs working for the royal palace, and so close to the princess. They must be good at what they do. It would probably be a good idea to keep an eye on those two,” I suggested.

“My thoughts exactly,” said Mr. Huxley, as he walked away, his eyes fixated on the set of double doors.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To keep an eye on those two.”


Part 2:
I moved methodically through the chamber, finishing my assessment. As I approached a set of ornate double doors, I paused, studying the intricate carvings and listening to the muffled sounds beyond. Suddenly, a loud crash reverberated from the other side, shattering the silence. My heart raced as I instinctively reached for my gun, which I realized was banned in the Kingdom of Valoria, the unexpected noise sending a surge of adrenaline through my veins. I pushed the doors open, ready for whatever lay in wait.

Charlotte and Abigail lay on the stomachs, hogtied with soft cotton rope wound around their wrists and ankles. Their bodies were bent in an unnatural arc, limbs pulled tight behind their backs, forcing them into a helpless, contorted position. The ropes were expertly knotted, leaving no slack, ensuring their every struggle only made the bindings tighter. Shiny silver bands of duct tape had been wrapped around their mouths, reducing their pleas to a muffled whimper.

“Mmmpph! Mmpphh!” they groaned in unison as their eyes, filled with fear, met mine.

Princess Seraphina and Mr. Huxley stood a short distance away, their eyes widened in fear over rubber gloved hands clamped over their mouths, silencing their cries for help. Two female assailants, clad in military-style clothing, exuded a menacing presence as they held their captives. Each woman had a firm grip on her target, one restraining Mr. Huxley with a forearm across his throat, the other pinning the princess with an arm twisted painfully behind her back. Their camouflage uniforms blended with the dim surroundings, but their cold, steely eyes and disciplined postures were unmistakable. Their hair was pulled up into a military-style cap. The captives struggled futilely, the assailants’ strength and training evident in the unyielding hold that kept them immobilized.

Before I could react, I felt a strong arm reach around my waist, pulling me back violently. “Mmmpph!” was all I could manage as a rubber gloved hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my hopeless attempts to call out for help. Suddenly, we were flanked by several more assailants, all dressed similarly to those that held us.
Our muffled pleas and protests came to a grinding halt as the presumed leader strolled confidently before us. She had a commanding presence, her tall, athletic frame clad in fitted fatigues that spoke of both discipline and authority. Her sharp, angular features were accentuated by high cheekbones and a strong jawline, giving her a formidable look. Intense, piercing green eyes scanned her surroundings with a calculated precision, exuding an air of unwavering confidence. Her dark hair, pulled back into a tight, no-nonsense bun, added to her stern demeanor, while a few scars etched across her tanned skin hinted at a life of hardened experience and countless battles.

She stood tall and imposing, her stern gaze fixed on the three captives held before her. She exuded authority and menace, her voice sharp and unwavering as she addressed us. “You have one chance to cooperate,” she declared, pacing slowly in front of us. “Refuse, and you will regret it.” Her cold, calculating eyes bore into each of us, leaving no doubt about the seriousness of her threat.

“Mmmpph!” grunted Princess Seraphina defiantly, her protest muffled by the palm of the rubber gloved hand pressed firmly to her lips.

Her defiance brought the leader to a stop in her tracks.
“You, Princess Seraphina, are our prisoner,” she announced triumphantly. “I would suggest that you behave yourself.”

“Mmmpph! Mmmpphh!” Her stubbornness indicative that she would not make her captivity easy for her hostage takers.

“Gag her!” commanded the leader with authority. Instantly, the hand was removed from her mouth, and a small wadded up handkerchief was forced into the princess’s mouth followed by a neatly folded black cloth that was pulled under her nose and over her chin, tightly tied around her mouth.

“Mmm… Mmmpph!” she protested into her gag.

“Gag these two also,” the leader commanded as small handkerchiefs were stuffed into the mouths of Mr. Huxley and I, with black cloths tied around our mouths preventing us from spitting out our gags to boot. “They’re coming with.”

One by one, zip ties had been looped around our wrists pulling them snugly together. Under the guise of a quiet day in the palace, we were expeditiously ushered out the back and placed into an unmarked van with no windows. The sound of gravel crunching under the tires quelled the noises of the outside world as we quickly sped off.

To be continued….

A truly excellent story, atmospheric and interesting background profiles in the characters.

Janbound wrote: 9 months ago A truly excellent story, atmospheric and interesting background profiles in the characters.

Ahhh! Thank you!
I will post more shortly.
I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it thus far, and certain hope I don’t disappoint!

Part 3:
The warehouse was a cavernous, dimly lit space filled with the musty scent of neglect and disuse. Rusted metal beams crisscrossed above, supporting a high ceiling from which a few bare bulbs dangled, casting weak pools of light. Stacks of forgotten crates and dusty, cobwebbed machinery lined the walls, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. In the center of the room, the three captives were placed on their knees, their faces illuminated by the flickering light from a single, sputtering bulb. The cold concrete floor beneath them echoed with their shifting movements, and the distant sound of dripping water added to the eerie silence of their isolation.

The leader stood before us, arms folded in front of her as she gazed at us with unwavering authority, while her band of militants circled the princess like vultures. Her eyes remained defiant above the gag tied tightly around her mouth.

Two of the assailants, donning rubber gloves, helped her to her feet, slipping the gag down off of her mouth and pulling the saliva soaked, wadded up handkerchief out.

“Your highness,” said the leader, bowing her head. “Everything went as planned.”

Mr. Huxley and I looked on in utter surprise as the zip ties that bound her wrists were swiftly cut away.

Princess Seraphina, with her usual air of imperiousness replaced by a cunning smile, stood alongside the assumed leader. Her once pristine gown was now deliberately torn and dirtied, blending her into the surroundings. Bound before her, Mr. Huxley and I, stared at her in shock, our expressions a mix of confusion and disbelief. “You actually thought they took me?” Seraphina scoffed, her voice dripping with amusement. “This was my plan all along.” Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, enjoying the revelation as the reality of our situation slowly sank in for Mr. Huxley and I.

She began to divulge her plan: “Once word of my kidnapping spreads, my mother - Queen Jezebel of Valoria, will be forced to hand herself over in exchange for my freedom. While in captivity, I will assume the throne in her place. The Kingdom of Valoria will bend its knee to the new crown. All hail Queen Seraphina!”
The room erupted into a chorus of cheers. Mr. Huxley and I exchanged stunned glances, our eyes wide with disbelief as the princess’s plan to assume the throne unfolded before us. We felt a mix of fear and anger, realizing they were pawns in a grand scheme far more sinister than we had ever imagined.

Princess Seraphina gazed upon us, helplessly kneeling before her. “Remove their gags,” she commanded. I spit the wadded up handkerchief out as the black cloth was pulled down from my lips, hanging loosely around my neck. Mr. Huxley gasped for air as is gag was removed.

“What makes you think you will get away with this?” I asked.
“It’s simple,” replied the princess. “My kidnapping was to be expected, given the political climate of the kingdom, it should come as no surprise. My mother’s reign is over. The people are growing restless of her shortcomings and will welcome change. As her only daughter, her legacy and heir to the throne, she will have no choice but to exchange her freedom for mine.”

“The obvious question here,” Mr. Huxley interjected, “is witnesses. Now that we know your plan, what do you intend to do with us?”

“I knew that the only men with your reputations could foil my plans. Therefore, you had to be taken as well. Once my mother is in captivity and I have secured the throne, you will be released unarmed. You will return to your home country,” she said pointing at me. Then, pointing at Mr. Huxley, continued, “You will take an early retirement. No pension, of course. And neither of you will ever speak a word about the truth — or we will leak the video footage.”

Mr. Huxley looked puzzle. “What video footage?”


Part 4:
The group of female militants stood in a tight circle around Mr. Huxley and I, their faces hard and expressionless under the harsh, flickering light of the warehouse. They exuded an air of disciplined menace, rifles slung across their shoulders.

Mr. Huxley and I exchanged nervous glances, our fear palpable, as we had been stripped of our clothing and each forced into a black latex thongs that hugged our hips and cradled our cocks. We had been bound face to face, our arms wrapped around each other’s waists, each with our hands bound in the small of the other’s back. Our eyes widened over two strips of wide duct tape that had been stretched out tightly over our mouths, pressed down firmly to our lips in the shapes of “X”s.

In the corner of the room, a camera on a tripod was positioned to capture the scene, its red recording light blinking ominously. The militants occasionally glanced toward the camera, their postures straightening and clearing the way to ensure that Mr. Huxley and I were visible. The air was thick with tension, the low hum of the warehouse’s electrical system buzzed beneath our muffled groans and moans under our gags, the only sound punctuating the heavy silence.

The princess paced slowly around the two bound captives, her heels echoing ominously on the cold concrete floor. Her piercing green eyes flicked between us , a cruel smile playing on her lips. “Look at you,” she sneered, stopping to stand in front of them, her hands resting confidently on her hips. “All bound and gagged.” Her voice dripped with mockery as she leaned down, bringing her face close to ours. “Pathetic.”

Mr. Huxley flinched as she reached out to lift his chin with a gloved hand, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Ironic that you were in charge of my safety, isn’t it?” She straightened up, laughing softly, the sound echoing through the cavernous warehouse. Our eyes darted nervously, our fear evident, as she continued her cruel taunts, relishing our helplessness.

We struggled in the ropes, each time one of us tugged at the bindings, our sweaty bodies would be pulled in closely together, rubbing against each other. I could feel my cock growing harder as Mr. Huxley’s brushed up against it. His cheeks bulged under the tape plastered over his mouth as his breaths became deeper and more abbreviated.

“Mmmpphh! Mmmppph!” We grunted in unison into our gags as our cocks did battle, bulged in the front of the latex thongs that held them, as we flexed our hips into one another. The camera continued to record, as our bodies grinded against each other, our hips bucking as we pushed our cocks into one another through the sleek latex. “Mmm… Mmmppph…” we moaned, humiliated and defeated, my eyes glancing over at the red blinking recording light, a stark reminder that the camera was rolling.

Standing before us, the princess exuded a sinister confidence, her eyes glinting with malicious amusement. “You want to get out of this?” she taunted, her voice laced with mockery. “Then you’ll do exactly as I say.”

She leaned in closer, her smirk widening as she savored our discomfort. “I hope you are ready,” she muttered softly, cueing several of our assailants to cut through the ropes that bound our hands. “I, for one, am really going to enjoy this.”

Mr. Huxley swallowed hard under the tape that stung his lips, his cheeks flushing with humiliation, while I clenched his jaw beneath the tape stretched over my mouth, struggling to maintain my composure. The princess giggled softly, the sound chilling in the otherwise silent warehouse. “Go on,” she urged, her voice dripping with condescension. “Show me how much you’re willing to degrade and humiliate yourselves.” We exchanged a hopeless glance, knowing we had no choice but to comply with her degrading demands.

“This is the end of Act One,” she said, pausing deviously. “Now on to Act Two.”

To be continued…

Part 5:
Mr. Huxley and I knelt on the cold concrete floor, their faces a mix of fear and defiance, wondering what was the next part of the plan and how long the torment would continue. Our gags had been removed, but we were still instructed not to speak. Our heads were bowed and breaths shallow, as the sound of measured footsteps echoed behind us. Each step grew louder, the pacing figure’s presence a constant, oppressive reminder of our dire situation.

Suddenly, my jaw opened as my head was yanked backwards by one of our assailants, and a black silicone rubber bit gag was placed into my mouth. “Mmmpph!” I grunted as my teeth sunk into the silicone rubber, the leather straps connected to the silver rings on the sides of the bit tightly buckled behind my head.

I was violently shoved forwards, collapsing onto all fours as I broke my fall. “Mmmpph!” I groaned as the palms of my hands hit the ground with a clap.

The group of militant women stood in a tense circle around us, their expressions hard and unyielding. Mr. Huxley stood beside me as I remained on hands and knees, glancing nervously at our captors, their faces etched with fear and resignation. Princess Seraphina stepped forward, her commanding presence and piercing gaze sending a shiver down the our spines as we prepared ourselves for the worst.

At a subtle signal from the princess , they parted with military precision, creating a clear path. Two women stepped forward, their movements confident and purposeful, the gap closing behind them as the circle reformed. One woman moved with deliberate efficiency, her boots echoing softly on the warehouse floor as she carried the tripod and camera. She found a suitable spot and carefully spread the tripod’s legs, ensuring its stability on the uneven surface. With practiced hands, she mounted the camera, adjusting its angle and focus to capture the scene perfectly. The other woman stepped behind Mr. Huxley, pulling a neatly folded black cloth in between his lips and knotting it off behind his head.

She handed him a pair of yellow rubber gloves. He looked at her bewildered as he took them from her, his lips pressed together tightly over his gag.

Princess Seraphina stood before her hostages, her eyes sharp and unwavering as she surveyed the frightened faces before her. “Listen closely,” she commanded, her voice cold and authoritative. “You will do exactly as I say and follow my plan, or there will be consequences.” She pause, glancing at one of her henchwomen. The woman stood with a menacing air, tapping a sleek riding crop rhythmically against her palm. Each sharp snap of the leather against her glove punctuated the tense silence, sending a clear message of authority and control. Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and intimidation.

“You will do as instructed, keep quiet, and don’t even think about trying anything stupid,” she continued, her gaze hardened as she moved closer, emphasizing her words. “Follow my instructions, and you might make it out of here alive.” Mr. Huxley and I exchanged nervous glances, our fear palpable as we obeyed, too terrified to do anything but comply.

Mr. Huxley stretched his wrist into one of the yellow rubber gloves. I grunted into my gag as he slipped his other hand into the other glove, his fingers dancing into the finger holes as he tugged on the cuff, letting it snap back against his wrist.

“Mmm… Mmppph,” he murmured softly, muffled by the gag tied around his mouth, as he was moved and positioned behind my feet. The red recording light on the camera blinked ominously.

“The only way for you to escape this little ordeal is to play along with my game,” she began, her voice cold and precise. “We are going to humiliate you, debase and degrade you. The camera will record the entire sequence. Only then can we ensure you that you will not speak about the details of my plan to take the throne. Mr. Huxley, you may begin.”

Mr. Huxley reluctantly crouched down, placing his hands on my hips. I felt his cock brushing up against me through the latex thong.

“I want to hear the sounds of latex snapping, groaning and moaning into your gags,” she continued.

He grabbed onto my waistband on the sides, and I could feel him pushing his hard cock into me, through the latex thong that cradled it, from behind. He grunted as he slowly flexed his hips, pulling me into him.

“Mmmpphh!” The silicone rubber bit sunk into the corners of my mouth as I pressed my lips together over it. I felt his cock growing harder as he pulled me into him with each thrust of his hips.

“Mmm…Mmmpphh…” he groaned softly as I felt his arm reach around my waist and up underneath me as I knelt on all fours. His rubber gloved hand slip inside the sleek black latex thong I wore, and wrap around the shaft of my cock.

“Mmmpphh!” I moaned aloud, feeling my cock grow harder as he grasped it, enclosing his hand around it.

“Mmmpph!” he grunted, thrusting his hard latex clad cock into me from behind.

The back of my thong was swallowed up by my cheeks. The thong pulled against my cock as he yanked on the waistband with each flex of his hips. I glanced over my shoulder. Mr. Huxley’s lips were pressed together tightly over his gag as he grunted. My heart raced, my mind full of worry as I dreaded the thought of Mr. Huxley taking his cock out, sliding the thong over from between my cheeks, and stuffing his cock inside of me.

I felt humiliated and defeated, yet yearning for more. The sensation of latex rubbing against my body, the taste of rubber in my mouth, the stimulation as his fingers and the contour of his cock through his thong teased my ass. The eyes upon us.

“Mmmph! Mmppphh!” We moaned in unison, our muffled pleas and protests mixed with a chorus of pleasures whimpers. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as she sent small tingles radiating through my body.

The palm of his rubber gloved hand slid up and down my cock, fully erect. My cock was pulsing as he alternated between stroking it and massaging my balls. Occasionally, his finger tips would provide anal stimulation as his hand wandered up further between my legs. My cheeks clenched around the thong slipped between them as his fingertips penetrated me, tracing along my anus; then, returning to massage my balls.

Minutes had elapsed. I hardly noticed him pushing the bulge protruding in the front of the latex thong into me. We traded moans as I felt my cock pulsing about to explode, until suddenly, we heard Princess Seraphina’s voice, “And…. Cut!” The video camera was turned off. “This is the end of Act Two.”


Part 6:
My arms were stretched overhead, wrists bound to a sturdy beam in the ceiling. My hands were clenched into fists, my muscles tensed in a futile effort to break free. My body hung limp, feet planted firmly on the cold concrete floor, as if rooted to the spot. My jaw ached behind the large red rubber ball that had been forced in between my lips and buckled tightly into place by the black leather straps behind my head.

My cock was throbbing inside the latex thong panties that held it as it bulged in the front. Mr. Huxley stood in front of me. A ballgag had been strapped into his mouth, but his hands were not tied. A pair of latex rubber gloves fit snug around his hands. I noticed a large bulge in the front of the black latex thong as his cock was still palpitating.

We watched dreadfully as Princess Seraphina’s henchwoman carried the tripod and camera began to set it up. With practiced ease, she extended the tripod’s legs, securing each one firmly into the ground. She mounted the camera atop it, adjusting the angle and focus with meticulous care, her fingers moving deftly over the controls. Princess Seraphina stood before us , her presence commanding and unyielding. Her eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanned their faces with an intensity that brooked no defiance.

“Listen closely,” she began, her voice low but firm, each word slicing through the silence like a blade. “This is your final set of instructions. Fail to follow them to the letter, and there will be consequences.”

She took a step closer, her gaze never wavering. “First,” she instructed Mr. Huxley, “remove your gag.” He happily complied, pinching the rubber ball and pulling it from his mouth, letting it hang by the leather straps around his neck.

Her tone left no room for doubt or hesitation. “This is the Third and final Act!” she declared. With that, she straightened, her eyes boring into theirs one last time. “Remember, any deviation, any mistake, and we do this all over again. You have one chance. Do not squander it.”

Mr. Huxley and I nodded, absorbing each word with the desperation of those who knew our freedom and perhaps our very lives depended on it.

As the camera rolled, Mr. Huxley stood before me, placing his hands on the waistband of the black latex thong that hugged my hips. He slipped his fingertips inside and slowly began to slide them down off of my hips. He pulled them down past my thighs; then, past my knees, until they were in a twisted heap on the floor around my ankles. My cock stood protruding.

“Mmmpph!” I grunted as Mr. Huxley enclosed his latex gloved hand around my cock, my moans muffled by the rubber ball filling my mouth. He slowly started to massage my cock, cupping my balls with his other hand.

“Mmm.. Mmpphh! I moaned as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as he sent small tingles radiating through my body. He gently massaged my balls as he continued to run his hand up and down the shaft of my cock. I twisted in the ropes that bound my wrists, pressing my lips together over the ballgag that filled my mouth, muffling my gentle moans. I felt my cock throbbing at his latex touch as he gripped it.

I closed my eyes in anticipation as he crouched down and parted his lips slightly, tilting his chin up as his mouth opened gradually.
“Mmmppph!” I moaned aloud as I felt him take my cock into his hot, wet mouth. I flexed my hips as his lips enclosed around it, taking me deep into his mouth.

I bellowed out a chorus of muffled moans, breathing hard and rhythmically as his wet lips slid up and down the shaft of my cock. He gagged on my cock with each thrust of my hips. I could feel his slippery tongue gently massaging it. A rush of euphoria radiated throughout my body.

My cock was craving his touch. The friction from the latex was euphoric as blissful and exhilarating as his hand stroked the lower part of my cock while his hot lips wrapped around the top.
I tugged at the ropes that bound my hands. My struggles were fruitless, but it made me feel submissive. I moaned exaggeratedly and enthusiastically into my gag.

I flexed my hips. Mr. Huxley gagged on my cock as he took it deeper into his mouth, his head bobbing more rapidly. I could feel my cock pulsing as I was ready to cum, but resisting as Princess Seraphina watched intently without giving any cues.

My teeth sunk into the rubber ball in my mouth as Mr. Huxley reached his arm around me, his latex gloved fingertips, slipping in between my cheeks. I moaned aloud as he meticulously pleasured me with anal stimulation in conjunction with teasing my cock.

“Mmm.. Mmpph..” I whimpered as the tingly feeling stimulating my body rocketed into a sudden burst of intense pleasure.

“Mmmmppph!” I screamed into my gag as I exploded into his mouth.

A silence fell over the room. Only our panting and heavy breathing could be heard. Without saying a word, two of the henchwomen quickly folded up the camera and tripod and ejected a small memory card, handing it to Princess Seraphina. She enclosed her hand around it as another part of her plan had fallen into place - a valuable piece of insurance. She smiled with satisfaction.


To be continued….

Part 7:
In the cold dampness of the warehouse, Princess Seraphina stood before her two captives, her presence commanding and unyielding. The flickering light from a single bulb cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the stark contrast between her poised composure and the uncertainty etched on the faces of Mr. Huxley and I, bound on our knees. I could feel my saliva pooled beneath the large red rubber ball that had been strapped in my mouth.

“You both need to understand something very clearly,” she said, her voice carrying a quiet, terrifying intensity. “If a single word about this ordeal or my plan to take over the throne reaches anyone’s ears, if I hear even a whisper, I will release the footage.”

She took a step back, her eyes never leaving their faces. “I have eyes and ears everywhere. You won’t be able to hide. So keep your mouths shut, and maybe - just maybe, it never sees the light of day.”

We nodded.

“Put these two in the van, and make sure they are bound and gagged!” Princess Seraphina instructed.

But when she finished, the silence was deafening. Her sharp eyes scanned her team who remained standing still. She sensed unease, an unspoken rebellion. Ignoring the warning signs, she repeated with her usual confidence. “Put these two in the van, and make sure they are bound and gagged!”

Suddenly, Princess Seraphina was circled as her most trusted henchwoman, the leader, spoke: “Enough, Seraphina. We’re done being your pawns.”

The Princess’s eyes narrowed, but before she could react, the others closed in. In a swift, well-coordinated move, they overpowered her, binding her hands with zip ties.

She struggled, fury burning in her eyes. “What is the meaning of this?” she hissed. From his knees, Mr. Huxley smiled, his expression cold and resolute.

“We’ve struck a deal, Princess,” he announced proudly. “One far more enticing than what you have to offer. I have offered you, Princess Seraphina of Valoria — and full access for her inevitable kidnapping to your mother, Queen Jezebel of Valoria. With both you and your mother in captivity, the throne will be empty, creating a power vacuum-.”

“-Which I will fill,” said the leader, finishing Mr. Huxley’s sentence.

“And, I, will be rewarded handsomely; and, offered retirement - with full pension, of course,” added Mr. Huxley. “Any last words, Princess?” Two of the women circled around her, one of which with a ballgag dangling from her hand.

“You’re never going to get away with this,” cried Princess Seraphina as the larger rubber ball was forced into her mouth and strapped into place behind her head.

“Mmmpph! Mmpph!” she pleaded as her lips enclosed around the rubber ball that filled her mouth, wondering how her air tight plan had fallen apart so quickly. Pondering how she had been outsmarted by her chief head of security.

Mr. Huxley turned to me, still kneeling, bound and gagged in the floor, and processing what I had just witnessed unfold. “What do you say?” he asked as he hooked a finger around the leather strap, the rubber ball plopping out of my mouth. “Are you with us?”

“Respectfully,” I replied, “I think I will return home.”



I had returned home. Months later, I had turned on the television to the footage of Queen Jezebel and Princess Seraphina boarding an airplane, heading into exile. I wondered to myself: what happened to Princess Seraphina during our captivity? What was holding her back from coming forward with the truth? Perhaps we would never find out.

THE END