Continually Increasing Bondage

by Steve Spandex

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© Copyright 2019 - Steve Spandex - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f+; Solo-M; spandex; jail; cell; captives; fight; FF; MF; overpower; bond; handcuffs; rope; gag; rescue; cons/nc; X

story continues from part 11

Chapter 12

What it was that caused Hazel to become momentarily distracted wasn’t clear to Steve at the time. Maybe it was a sound that alerted her to the presence of someone else in the doorway; the sound of feet on floor, a gasp of surprise, or even simply the act of someone breathing. Or perhaps she’d noticed something move out of the corner of her eye. It could have been a silhouette briefly crossing the path of one of the now casually positioned torches that caught her attention. Or possibly it was none of the above, but simply a ‘sixth sense’; the feeling of being watched that you have when you know that there’s someone present, although none of your five regular senses seem to have been the receptor to this knowledge.

Whatever the case, Steve took full advantage of this momentary lapse in his opponent’s concentration. As she hesitated to glance towards the open doorway, Hazel’s grip on his arms loosened ever so slightly. Steve needed no further prompting. Finding a strength that had until now remained untapped, he managed to buck his body upwards with great force, sending the briefly sidetracked female hurtling backwards in a blur of latex towards the general direction of the door. But if he thought that Lady Hazel Paine would now be easy to subdue, he was mistaken, as even before he’d found his feet again, she was throwing herself towards him, swinging the handcuffs around at his face. The sight of these metal bracelets whirling ever closer made him take an involuntary step backwards, and his hands automatically came up to protect himself. It wasn’t his face that felt the force of the next blow, however, but his ribs, as one of Hazel’s trademark karate kicks hit home. Crumpling to the floor, momentarily winded, he expected to at any moment feel the pressure of Hazel’s body on top of his once more. He heard the rattle of the cuffs close at hand, and in his temporarily vulnerable state he feared the worst.

But all of a sudden, from out of the blue, Hazel screamed. This was not a cry of triumph brought about by a sense of impending victory over her defeated prey, however. Instead this was a shriek that owed its existence to pain, not pleasure. At the precise moment that this howl reverberated around the confines of the tiny cell, Steve heard the sound of what he guessed was someone hitting the floor with some force, as if they’d fallen or been pushed. But what had caused this sudden shift in the balance of power? For despite his delight at not being pinned down by this dervish-woman, he had no perception of having done anything that might have brought about this unexpected reversal of fortunes. Looking towards the fallen woman, Steve could just make out, in a shadow-filled section of the room where the light from the torches barely touched, the figure of Hazel, stretched out motionlessly on the floor. But there was something on top of her. Or more correctly, someone. And this person, in attire as black as Hazel’s, soon took shape as the figure of another woman. But despite her intervention on his behalf, it was clear to Steve straightaway that the female who had come to his aid was bound both hand and foot. The initial assumption that he made was that this mystery woman was Amber. But a quick glance at the coffin told him that she was still in her box; gazing wide-eyed at the unfolding drama before her.

Hazel let out a low groan, and it was clear that she was only semi-conscious, having presumably banged her head on the concrete as the unknown woman attacked her. But who could his unidentified saviour be?


A stifled gasp made its way through Jade’s gag as she viewed the conflict going on in this small cell. For there, rolling about on the floor was Hazel, and she was in the throes of a bitterly contested state of combat with a man in an outfit that looked remarkably like her own. It was only after a few seconds, however, once this ever writhing mass of arms and legs had shifted sufficiently so that the facial features of Hazel’s antagonist became clear, that she recognised Lauren’s boyfriend Steve. He, it appeared, was fighting a losing battle at present.

But it was at this very moment that Hazel seemed to realise that she was being observed, and with a look of surprise etched on her face, she turned to gaze directly into the eyes of a woman who, she would have had every right to assume, couldn’t possibly be standing there, given the severe state of bondage that she’d been left in. And it was at this point that Steve, obviously sensing Hazel’s fleetingly distracted attention, grabbed the opportunity to rid himself of the oppressive weight that had him trapped against the stone floor.

But if Jade thought that her work here was done, she was soon shown to be mistaken. For Hazel must have seen that the interloper was still encumbered by the majority of her restraints, and would have presumed that she was a much lesser threat than Steve right now. It was an error of judgment that was to cost her dearly.

As Hazel turned her back on the shadowy figure in the doorway and once more gave her full, undivided attention to subduing her male adversary, Jade knew she needed to act. Quickly taking two jumping strides further into the cell, she threw herself at the unsuspecting latex-clad figure’s back with as much force as she could muster; not caring a jot whether she injured herself in the process. A piercing scream rent the air as she smashed into Hazel’s body just below the shoulder blades. Not expecting this assault from the rear, Hazel went down like she’d been pole-axed; the handcuffs slipping from her grasp and spiralling through the air, while a second or two later, a sickening crack signified that her head and the hard floor had made violent contact.

Jade lay unmoving on Hazel’s now motionless torso, both because she wanted to give Steve the chance to get the cuffs and ensure Hazel was no longer a danger to either of them, but also because, in her restricted state, she would have found it difficult to regain her feet.


Grabbing one of the torches, Steve stood up gingerly and shone the beam on the crumpled heap of females before him. As he did so, the bound woman lifted her head to the light, and a pair of green eyes stared back at him. Immediately he recognised his rescuer as one of the twins - although he’d never got it straight in his mind whether Jasmine had the green eyes and Jade the blue, or vice versa. But precise verification of this point could wait for the time being. Covered in what seemed like dust and grime, and with a cut above her eye, despite being bound, whichever member of the identical duo this might turn out to be was doing a sterling job of keeping Hazel pinned to the ground. But it was obvious that the latter was beginning to come to, and the muffled sound from the twin’s mouth had an urgent tone to it, which Steve interpreted as a call for hasty action, in order to keep their despised foe from regaining the initiative.

Wasting no time, Steve picked the fallen handcuffs from the floor and pulled his bound ally gently aside, before manipulating Hazel’s limp, unresponsive arms up behind her and swiftly shackling her wrists in the cuffs that she had been so eager to encumber his with. Still groggy, Hazel initially offered very little resistance. But no sooner had the sound of the ratchet on the second bracelet faded away, than she seemed to regain some insight into what was happening, and her legs began to thrash wildly at her rigger, even though he was by now sitting astride her, pinioning her body to the ground.

Steve glanced around the room, but could see no spare ropes or other suitable ligatures with which to bind Hazels’ legs, and it was again left to the still bound twin to solve the problem for him. Shuffling on her bottom across the floor until she was right beside him, she held her legs out and mumbled something into her gag, which Steve interpreted as an invitation to use the ropes that she was tied with to further restrain Hazel.

Still in his position atop the frantically struggling female, Steve reached out and began to release the knot that held Jasmine or Jade’s ankles in such close proximity. In the dim light, and with a bucking, rearing woman-possessed beneath him, this took a minute or two. But finally he managed to uncinch and release the bond, then re-apply it in exactly the same fashion around the downed dominatrix’s ankles; notwithstanding the fact that her struggles made this a chore of Herculean proportions. With her lower legs now inseparable, however, his work began to get easier, and the removal of the twin’s other leg bonds and their subsequent placement on either side of Hazel’s knee joints became, if not a straightforward operation, then at least a little less stressful. The noise that his captive made however, whilst this reallocation of bonds was in progress, remained undiminished. In fact, if anything, the more restrained her limbs, the greater Hazel’s tirade and threats of future revenge became.


Steve decided that something needed to be done about this constant assault on his ears. But where could he find a suitable gag? He soon had the answer to this question: recycle an existing one.

Reaching over, Steve began unpicking the tape that covered the lower half of his collaborator’s face, and gradually started to unwind the reluctantly yielding strips. His primary purpose for this ungagging process was so that he could reuse whatever happened to be inserted in her oral cavity, in order to silence the still vocally active banshee who continued to spit fury and malice at him ceaselessly. And to this end, the tights that were gratefully spat from the lips of the green eyed twin soon found their way into the mouth of the still resisting Hazel. But how was he to keep this saliva soaked hosiery in place? Although not ideal, Steve found that the discarded ribbon of duct tape, which was several feet in length, still retained some of its adhesive properties and would do as a makeshift lip sealant until such time as a more efficient means of silencing his still vocalising prisoner could be found.

With his foe now restrained and gagged, Steve lifted his weight off the still struggling woman; confident that she was secure and no longer a threat. Taking hold of one arm, he helped the twin gently up onto her feet. A secondary consideration for the removal of her gag, of course, had been for the purpose of questioning her about Lauren.

“It’s Jasmine, isn’t it?... What’s going on exactly?... Is Lauren here?”

Steve’s enquiries came out in a rush. But the final enquiry was the one he most desired the answer to.

“It’s Jade, actually. It’s a long story, but these two are responsible for this whole kidnapping plot, as you’ve probably guessed.”

The husky voiced damsel nodded first towards Hazel, still writhing on the floor, then to Amber, lying face down in her metal coffin. Steve was becoming impatient to hear news of his woman, however.

“Yes, but where’s Lauren? What have they done to her?”

Jade assured Steve that Lauren, as well as her own sister, were only a few yards away down the corridor.

“Come on, I’ll take you there. But you’ll need to find some keys if you want to release her. She’s handcuffed... just like me.”

Jade turned and held her wrists out for Steve to see. It seemed, in his eagerness to find his girl, that he’d forgotten that Jade was still manacled, and this was a timely reminder that she wouldn’t mind being set free too. But where were these elusive keys? Steve shone the torch around the room but could see no evidence of any bag or other possible place that they could be concealed. Did Hazel still have them on her person? That seemed unlikely, considering the skin-tight, pocket-less nature of her outfit. So where could they possibly be?

Steve bent down close to Hazel’s face, which despite her helplessness, still flashed with fury at the treatment that had been meted out to her.

“Where are the keys to the cuffs, Hazel? It would be in your best interests to tell us.”

It was clear straight away, from the obscenities and curses that made their way through her gag, that Hazel didn’t share this view, and that she had no intention of cooperating in any way, shape or form. A second attempt to elicit this information also drew a blank, with the instruction to “rot in hell” being mumbled through the used tights and tape.

Steve was in two minds about exactly what to do. On the one hand, he wanted to get to Lauren as soon as he could in order to make sure she was alright and to comfort and reassure her. But on the other side of the coin, without the keys he knew that releasing her would be impossible. In the end, the need to set eyes on his soulmate outweighed all other considerations, and with Jade as his guide, the pair headed out into the corridor. If necessary, he mused as they left Hazel still writhing and shrieking, they could always return and interrogate her again concerning the keys’ whereabouts later. After all, he was now confident that she would be going nowhere.


Hazel watched as the gap between door and frame narrowed. Steve had picked up his own torch but, in his haste to find Lauren, he’d omitted to remove the other source of illumination, which still cast its beam across the floor in the direction of the far wall, creating a ghostly, twilight effect in the confined space. As the footsteps and voices of the retreating pair faded, Hazel was relieved to note that the heavy door had not closed completely, and stood ajar, leaving a gap of maybe nine or ten inches. This was another sign that Steve’s focus had been single-minded, and his attention to the finer details of ensuring that his newly acquired prisoners couldn’t exit the room had been forsaken in the name of love. And this was something that Hazel could – and would - use to her advantage.

When she’d arrived back at the old prison that evening, she’d become aware of the fact that things were not quite as she’d left them, and that there was now an unwanted visitor in the building, as she’d made her way up the stairs that led up to the cells. At first she’d thought she was hearing things. But as she crept closer, she realised that someone - a male – was interrogating the woman she’d so recently left bound and entombed inside the metal coffin. But who was this intruder? It didn’t take her long to form a definitive answer to this question. For as she stealthily approached the cell in which this encounter was taking place, the fact that this man was quizzing Amber on the whereabouts of Lauren gave her a vital clue. How he’d found his way here, then got into the building, she had no idea. That, however, was irrelevant to her now. But far from being angry or dismayed at this unexpected visitation, Hazel’s delight knew no bounds. For up to now, it had been Lauren on whom she had been intent on wreaking her revenge, with Steve’s suffering being of a second-hand nature, insofar as he would never know what had become of his woman, but would forever despairingly seek for her in vain. Now, with the other half of the duo only a few feet away and – better still - oblivious to her presence, she would take great pleasure in ensuring that neither would ever be seen again.

So, as quietly as she could, Hazel had hidden the bag that held the ropes, handcuffs and all the other essential tools of the bondage trade, as well as the keys to the various manacles and padlocks, in a cell two doors along from the one in which Steve and Amber were currently arguing the merits of setting the latter free. Her reasoning for jettisoning this excess baggage was so that she had her hands free to overpower her adversary. From this stash she’d taken merely one set of handcuffs; the intention being to come back for the other ropes and bonds once she’d subdued her opponent in the metal shackles.

Now, however, with the tables turned on her, she needed to get back to that bag, in order to free herself from those same handcuffs that she’d confidently predicted would by now be adorning Steve’s wrists. Her leg bonds would be a great hindrance to getting back along the corridor again, of course, and for a minute or two she’d stretched and strained at the tight ropes around her latex-clad legs, in a battle to make them slip to such an extent that she could shake her limbs free. This proved a frustrating time, as no amount of wriggling and contorting seemed to have any effect whatsoever on the securely tied knots. So, reluctantly, Hazel came to the conclusion that she would have to set out on her quest whilst still restrained at the knees and ankles. She needed to work fast, she realised, as Steve could return at any moment, and his inability to release Lauren from her moorings might mean that he wasn’t in the best of moods, which could in turn see him resort to violent means to obtain the information as to where the keys were concealed.

Hazel dragged her bound frame across the floor until she was sitting with her back to the wall. As she awkwardly used the brickwork as leverage to get to her feet, she simultaneously worked her facial muscles until the second-hand tape came loose from her cheeks, and with some difficulty she was able to spit out her gag. But how was she to find her way in total darkness? She gazed at the torch lying on the floor, with its beam spotlighting Amber. She too was trying to stand up, but being surrounded on all four sides by the walls of the coffin, she had fared less well than her deadly rival, and had by this point only succeeded in getting into a kneeling position, still within her confining box. Hazel wasn’t sure what Amber’s plans were, but had no time to ponder on such trivial matters right now. Recognising that retrieving then carrying the torch was not viable, she decided that she would have to make do without a light source; a difficult yet not impossible proposition. After all, she was confident that she knew exactly where the bag had been placed, and could, see was certain, retrieve what she sought without visual guidance.

Turning her attention from the other woman in the room, Hazel hopped clumsily in her high heeled boots towards the exit, mindful that she could slip and twist an ankle –or worse – at any moment. The door had closed to a degree where, although it was a tight fit, she found that she could just about squeeze her slender frame through the gap, even with the added burden of her hands being trapped behind her back.

Once in the corridor, the view in both directions was one of pitch blackness, save for a dim light that filtered ineffectively through dirt encrusted skylights high above. Away to her left, several cells along, Steve and Lauren would by now have been reunited, and Hazel’s hope was that this reunion would be of sufficient duration for her to locate the tiny but vital metal implement that would unlock the cuffs. Without further ado, she turned to her right and began her perilous trek in near blindness.

Every jumping motion that Hazel made, however nimble on her feet she tried to be, caused a loud thumping sound to vibrate around the cathedral-like space above and the seemingly bottomless abyss below. Convinced that Steve would, at any second, appear with torch in hand on the landing only a few yards away, Hazel glanced over her shoulder with trepidation between each hop she made. But it wasn’t Steve that her gaze fell on, but another shadowy figure. And although this person was no more than a black silhouette in the dim light of the doorway from which she herself had just emerged, Hazel knew immediately the identity of her pursuer. It was Amber, and it appeared that not only had she decided to follow her hated rival, but that she had also found a way of carrying the torch whilst bound, which, Hazel had to admit, showed a remarkable degree of ingenuity.


Seeing Hazel make her exit from the cell, Amber knew that she had to act if she was to in any way redeem herself. She was fully aware that escape was unlikely, but if Hazel did manage to get clean away, then in her absence it would be she who would be the one to bear the full brunt of the fallout from this whole saga. Whether her cousins, along with Steve and Lauren, would take matters into their own hands and dispense retribution in the form of a lengthy spell of tortuous bondage, she didn’t know; although she was certain that Jasmine and Jade would be chomping at the bit to mete out such punishment. Or maybe they’d call the police and let them decide what criminal proceedings to follow. And that, Amber was only too aware, would result in a long stretch inside, as the authorities took a dim view on kidnapping, extortion and such like.

So what could she do to mitigate these two equally unenviable end results? Well, she could maybe atone for her actions somewhat by stopping Hazel from leaving the building. She knew that complete absolution was never on the cards. But at least if she could do something to put matters right, then perhaps any judge and jury, be they official or self-appointed, might just be a little bit more predisposed to leniency than would otherwise have been the case.

But how was she to achieve this transition from villain to hero in her severely bound state? Ok, Hazel was shackled and tied too, but her bonds were marginally less severe than Amber’s, and she wasn’t laying face down in a metal box. And this meant that her nemesis already had a head start on her.

With an effort bordering on the super-human, Amber attempted to lift herself out of her confining coffin. Getting into a kneeling position was the relatively easy part, but then she had to negotiate the foot high wall of the casket, which proved a tricky operation given her level of bondage. As Hazel’s form disappeared into the gloomy corridor, Amber decided that easing herself over the low parapet head first onto the floor was her best bet. The result was that she landed in an undignified heap on the concrete. Now all she had to do was follow Hazel and somehow prevent her from leaving the scene of a crime that she herself had instigated, but for which she now needed to make some form of amends.

But would she be able to catch up with her now departed foe? Amber quickly decided that, if she could utilise the abandoned torch, then maybe that would give her an advantage. But how, with her hands bound behind her, was she to pick up and carry this giver of light, whilst also ensuring that the beam remained focused in the direction she was travelling? Suddenly an innovative notion came to her.

Slithering over to the source of the light, Amber awkwardly grasped the slender metal cylinder, before shuffling back to the wall. Using this for support, she manoeuvred herself into an upright position. Being careful not to drop the torch, she prodded the illuminated end with as much force as she could muster between her thighs from back to front. With her knees bound so stringently, it was a tight squeeze, but after a few seconds of straining, a circle of radiance on the wall opposite informed her that she’d succeeded in giving herself a source of light to use as a guide on her journey.

Hopping to the doorway, Amber squirmed through the tight gap and arrived on the landing outside. From the sounds of footsteps on the metal walkway, she knew straightaway which route Hazel had taken, and therefore turned to begin her own jaunt in that same direction.

And sure enough, there, only a few yards away, could be seen the cat-suited and bound figure of Hazel staring back at her; the light cast by the thigh-held spotlight obviously having warned her bitter enemy as to her own approach. There was no time to lose. Somehow or other she had to stop Hazel from leaving the building. And unlike her rival, she didn’t care how much noise her feet made in the process.


Steve and Lauren’s reunion was, to the watching Jade, a heart-warming experience. The journey to the cell in which both Lauren and Jasmine still languished in their strappado bound helplessness took only a few seconds, and Steve had been so intent on laying eyes on his beloved, that Jade wasn’t given time to explain the finer details of the deception and double-crossing antics that had been going on for the past few days. She hadn’t even yet had a chance to apprise Steve of her sister’s duplicity in this whole sordid affair.

Upon entering the room, of course, Steve only had eyes for Lauren, and after a quick appraisal of her bonds, he was left in no doubt that keys were indeed needed if he was to release her from the handcuffs and the chain that kept her arms in thrall to the ceiling. Briefly encouraged by the plaster and concrete debris left by Jade’s daring escape, it soon became apparent that the hook that Lauren’s chain had been threaded through was of far greater resilience, and refused to budge from its anchorage, no matter how much weight he applied to the task. He could, and did, release the tape from her face and the tights from her mouth, of course, as well as untying the tight ropes that kept her legs welded as one.

With the reunited lovers so engrossed in their own world, Jasmine, who had watched this partial release with envious eyes, decided that it was time to give Steve a gentle reminder that Lauren wasn’t the only prisoner here. And for a few seconds after her mumbled attempt at attention seeking, Steve did briefly prise his gaze away from his girlfriend towards the spot where Jasmine hung in her bonds. That was until Jade intervened however.

“No Steve, don’t touch Jasmine’s bonds. Leave her just as she is. It’s all her fault that we got drawn into this whole mess. If it wasn’t for her connivance and treachery, none of us would be here right now. She trusted Amber and went along with this plot to kidnap Lauren, only to realise far too late that our cousin only cares about herself. So the very least she deserves is to be left here for the night, to teach her a lesson.”

Steve listened in bewilderment as Jade gave a brief overview of the events leading to the current state of affairs. Jasmine tried to protest her innocence through her gag, but with Lauren backing up Jade’s account, it soon became apparent to Steve that the blue-eyed twin was indeed partially culpable for Lauren’s abduction. He therefore went along with Jade’s wishes to leave Jasmine in her bound predicament. This, of course, still left the dilemma of how to free Lauren.

The discussion on where to begin searching for the keys was rudely interrupted, however, as a commotion from somewhere in the corridor outside informed them that at least one of the two bound women from the other cell was on the move. Giving Lauren a quick kiss and promising to return as soon as he could, Steve hurried from the cell, with the handcuffed Jade following hot on his heels.


Hazel was in a quandary. Should she head for the place where the keys to the handcuffs were stashed, letting Amber into the secret hiding place of all the spare bondage equipment in the process? Or should she try to confront Amber right here on the landing? Assessing her own bonds in comparison to her rival’s, she figured that she was less restricted overall than Amber, and therefore decided to attempt to dissuade her enemy from following by a show of aggression. As Amber hopped two steps closer to where her hated foe stood, Hazel moved into the centre of the passageway, thus impeding the other’s onward progress.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? The only person leaving here is me. Now get back in your box, or I’ll make life really uncomfortable for you.”

Hazel knew that this was all just a bluff, and that in her handcuffed and bound state she could do very little except block the corridor. But with Amber bound too, and also incapable of making any coherent counter-threats, she felt that she had the upper hand in this standoff. And sure enough, for a few seconds Amber seemed to stop and back away, as if intimidated by Hazel’s bluster. She found out too late, however, that she’d misread the situation. And this failure on her part to accurately gauge Amber’s strategy was to cost her dearly.

All of a sudden, as Hazel was beginning to think that her belligerent stand had caused Amber to shy away from her, the light from the torch seemed to rush at great speed towards her. Hazel made as quick a sideways movement as her trussed up limbs allowed, but by this time Amber’s lunge had already found its target. As Amber’s head and shoulders collided with some velocity into the unprepared torso of her adversary, Hazel fell to her right. If this quick-as-a-flash activity had produced a collapse to the other side, i.e. the left, then both women would have slammed into the wall, and probably ended up in a crumpled heap of useless limbs and latex; battered, bruised and disorientated, yet still on terra-firma. As it was, to Hazel’s right was the drop into the vast central abyss of the cellblock, with nothing standing between them and the floor a good thirty feet below, save for a guardrail that had seen better days.

Whether the entire length of this barrier was in a state unfit to serve its intended purpose of preventing prisoners falling - or being pushed - over the edge was a moot point. Or it could have been that the two severely restrained women were unfortunate in choosing the weakest section of railing against which to have their little not-so-free-for-all wrestling bout. Whatever the case, the force of two women suddenly smashing at full speed into this obstruction, caused the metal balustrade to instantly buckle under their weight, and without hands to even try to grasp at any solid object they encountered, the two plummeted like lead weights off the walkway and into the dark void beneath, each letting out a scream as they did so; Hazel’s loud and piercing, with Amber’s more muffled, yet also betraying the fear of certain death.

Did I say only the railing between them and the abyss? Well no, there was one other line of defence that stopped the tied up twosome nose-diving headlong to their fate. For strung out across the gap between landings was a safety net that had been placed there by the prison authorities to prevent death by suicide or violent assault. And although old, sagging, and in places torn, this web of stretched yet semi-yielding criss-cross threads saved both Hazel and Amber from an early grave, and instead of tumbling like stones onto the rock-hard floor below, the mesh took the force of their fall and propelled them upwards again. Three or four times, the two bound woman bounced on their makeshift trampoline, their momentum gradually waning until they lay motionless on the flexible surface; both wide-eyed with fright yet relieved to still be alive.

Remarkably, the torch hadn’t budged from between Amber’s thighs - in fact, if anything it had risen higher into her crotch - and threw its beam upward to illuminate the skylights high above. Beside her, only a few feet away, Amber felt the netting rise and fall in a wavelike motion. She flopped awkwardly onto her side, and the redirected light showed her that Hazel was making a desperate attempt to reach the edge of the netting. For what purpose, she had no idea, for without the use of her limbs, climbing back onto the gangway was never an option. But what worried Amber was not the fact that her despised enemy was trying to flee the scene, but that, with every lurch that Hazel made, a slight ripping sound could be perceived, and she realised that the strain on their reinforced yet supple resting place, triggered by even the slightest movement, was slowly but surely causing the net to split asunder.

As her stifled warning for Hazel to remain stationary echoed around the black space above them however, another beam of light suddenly split the gloom. Moving as little as she possibly could, the fearful Amber raised her eyes to the walkway where she’d been standing only moments ago. And although she knew that Steve had probably now been brought up to speed on her part in Lauren’s kidnapping and subsequent incarceration, she felt a huge sense of relief at the sight of the spandex cat-suited male who had by now reached the point where the railing had been breached. Behind him, Jade could also be seen. As she let out a pathetic plea for help, however, a violent ripping sound corresponded with the net suddenly jolting an inch or two in a downward direction. Beside her, Hazel screamed.

“Well, well, it looks as if the two of you have got yourselves into a rather precarious situation here, doesn’t it? I suppose you’re expecting me to help you out of the net before it gives way completely, aren’t you?”

Steve let these questions hang in the air for a few seconds, before continuing.

“But from what I’ve just been told, I don’t owe either of you any favours.”

He waited for the echo from the pitiful shrieks of dismay which this announcement engendered to die away, before offering the two frightened females an olive branch.

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you let me know where the keys to Lauren’s handcuffs and chains are, I’ll be willing to help you out of your predicament. Do we have a deal?”

For a second, Hazel hesitated, and Amber had the sick feeling that she wasn’t going to co-operate. But just at that second, the net gave another sharp jerk in the direction of the floor. This seemed to do the trick, for as soon as the realisation hit her that the next time this occurred it might coincide with her final moments on Earth, Hazel’s response informing Steve of the keys whereabouts came out in a hurried, fear-laden screech, the vibration from which rattled the metal stairways and landings.

“They’re in the cell just behind you. NOW PLEASE SAVE ME!!”

If she’d hoped that this beseeching appeal would spur Steve into urgent action, however, she was to be gravely disappointed. Instead, he followed Hazel’s gaze to a door that stood slightly open, behind him and a little to his right. Casually, he turned and ambled in that direction, as if he had all the time in the world on his hands. For what seemed like minutes to the two wide-eyed women-in-peril, but was in reality no more than thirty seconds, Steve disappeared from view into the cell; the removal of his torch beam plunging them back into semi-darkness. When he returned, however, he triumphantly held a bunch of keys in his left hand. Still in leisurely fashion, he came back to the edge of the drop and held them up for Hazel and Amber to see.

“Are these the ones?”

Both Amber and Hazel confirmed that they were; the former with a nod of her head, the latter with a despairingly squealed “yes”, followed by another call for assistance before it was too late. Still Steve wasn’t quite ready to acquiesce.

“Good, in that case I’m going to let Lauren and Jade out of their cuffs. Then, if you’re telling the truth, I’ll be back to rescue the pair of you... not that either of you really deserve it.”

He beckoned at Jade to turn around, and swiftly let her out of her shackles.

“Stay here and watch these two while I release Lauren.”

He strolled off towards the cell in which his sweetheart and Jasmine were still imprisoned. As he did so, he looked back over his shoulder and grinned at the two helpless women on their less than stable net mattress.

“We’ll decide what to do with you two when we get back. In the meantime, I wouldn’t move around too much if I were you.”

Story continued in part thirteen

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