After awhile, hunting after rabbits gets old. There's no risk besides disappointment. No reward other than success, and only the kind of success you get from ordering a soda - not winning a slot machine.

Plus, you can only 'win' so much Pepsi before you start needing more quarters.

Her tongue starts over her thumb, and I know that means something. It has to. She's dressed like a bellhop, but her little hat is sitting on a small table next to her. She thinks no one's watching her, or that if they are, that they're too busy to think twice about a bellhop who's only a step away from fellatiating her own hand.

Her tongue slides over the tip of her pointer finger. She thinks no one knows why she's here, but she wouldn't be afraid if she did. She would be a little more cautious though. Dark brown hair goes so well with the way her tight red uniform clings to her firm body.

Knowing what she usually wears adds a special kick to this, but no more than knowing I'll be seeing everything under it. The way her tongue keeps tracing from finger to finger, it's like masturbating in public or just fidgeting. Some people chew on their lips, she just licks her fingers. I'm not sure which is the better habit, I just know that this will be a very valuable piece of information should I ever need to deal with her again; though if I do this right, I shouldn't have nearly as much trouble after.

There are any number of people she could be here to nab. That doesn't matter. All that matters, is she'll be nabbed before any of those people even know she's after them.

Staying under the public radar must really help her little team out a lot. She looks a little bit interesting and out of the ordinary, but she looks nothing like a predator. I can't afford to jump in too soon or I'd be taking the place of her intended victim. I wonder if I would sell as well with peach skin . . .

I just have to wait for the right opening, and avoid being taken in too much by the thoughts of revenge. This has to be for justice. There is personal satisfaction, but that can't be the why.

She doesn't stop flicking her tongue at her fingertips, until some bags are put on the luggage cart she's beside, and she grins. "I'm going to take the stairs for the exercise, take my things up to the fifth floor, okay?" She nods, and as soon as the man disappears up the stairs, my bellhop's lips move.

"I'll be there soon honey . . ." The way she says it, she's not even looking at the man as he leaves. He's not her target, which is just as well. She finishes licking her fingers before adjusting her uniform, sliding on the hat . . . and I have to wonder, are those little flicks to her fingers the way she makes her powers work the way they do, or . . .?

No, it has to be more than that. She starts to move for the elevator and I wait. I have to wait just a little longer. She's more alert than I'd give her credit for, I'm sure of it.

Silently I take out the small flask, and pour it over the cloth only the size of a napkin. It only needs a little to be effective. I can hear her clicking the button . . . and just when the doors are about to close, just enough time . . .

I dash out of my hiding place and thrust my left hand in-between the doors. This elevator was renovated not too long ago, so it doesn't even squish my hand for a moment. It clicks against my hand and then pries itself apart. As soon as it opens enough, I shove my right hand forward to thrust the damp cloth right over her nose and mouth.

As soon as I feel it secure over her mouth I push more, to move her back against the wall of the elevator. The doors close behind us, and she's already made the only mistake she needs to. It is a shock, so I don't really blame her when she gasps sharply, but that makes her eyes shudder and twitch.

She gets a nice deep whiff of that pure dizzy sensation, and I'm not sure if she even feels it when I curve my arm slowly around her even while holding her against the wall.

My bellhop tries to hold her breath, I can tell, but she already took that first deep breath. She can't resist the scent of pure dizzying bliss. It's all she can take in right now, besides the feel of my own warmth twisting and rubbing against her in a slow and sensuous pattern. She might not be able to tell that I'm even here, but that's even better.

It takes a little effort to adjust to holding her up, but I was prepared for that. Her eyes start to flutter, and she takes another deep breath as her lungs and the dizzy part of her mind wins over her logic. She looks so beautiful as the muscles in her face start to relax and her body starts to melt against me.

Faint sounds come out from the cloth, but not enough to be heard, only enough to delight in. It's just a faint little whisper muffled by the weight of her lips and the imposing cloth.

Her eyes slide the rest of the way closed, and I smile, rocking her pretty comatose body before reaching behind us to click the floor seven's button down. No need to keep the baggage away from its owner any longer than necessary. Only in Midas could a girl in a leotard and a mask hide out in a somewhat busy hotel.

The door clicks open, and I set my sweet little bellhop down before pressing the baggage cart outside of the elevator, and then clicking on the first floor. We have a little business back at a more familiar hotel . . .

It's truly a shame my fellow Mrs Dopplesnop can't join us.

Practice in ropes is something I was going to need eventually, so frankly getting some now is good in more ways than the obvious. Handling these particular ropes was a little more tricky, but it worked out. The blindfold over her eyes makes her look mysterious, but there's not much mystery left to a woman tied down to a bed in a mess of knots.

They criss-cross just so over her body, boosting her breasts, keeping her immobile, and would give a lovely view of her sweetly trimmed pussy with how spread her legs are if not for the knot positioned right at her lips. Her arms are behind her back, but ropes tie around the nook of her elbows to the higher bedposts and from her ankles to the lower pair.

I thought learning how to perfectly bind and trap a woman on a bed would be harder to learn, but the reading material is everywhere. Now, if I could just learn how to pronounce it.

She groans, just a little, and starts to squirm her head back and forth. I can't tell if it's to get the blindfold off or just to try and shrug off the nausea and dizziness. I was careful not to use too much but there are so many factors with drugs like that. Height and weight are only the beginning, and when dealing with dangerous women risking making them a little dizzier than you'd like is a lot better than too little.

I can only imagine what's on her mind, but I know how she's feeling. Limp, even though she's bound, and heavier than she's ever felt before. It'll take another couple of moments at least before her mind lets it click that she's tied down.

At least she's waking up on the bed and not a cement floor. That must make it a little harder to wake up, being in a nicely heated room over nice soft sheets. Even the ropes are soft, I made sure of that. "Aah . . . Wakey, wakey, my little sleepyhead . . ." I have to wonder how familiar my voice sounds to her, or if it really does sound different when I talk like this, think like this, feel like this . . .

Of course, she doesn't look like she remembers, but I don't blame her. She's probably more frustrated that being asked a question makes her realize the gag in her mouth.

She tries mumbling around it, and even tries to bite around it. She starts to try and get up, arch up, move, anything. It's so adorably futile. "Mrrmmphr!"

The gag though, is not something her mouth can get around by itself. It's tied tight enough to stay in place, but not tight enough to choke her. She would have woken up sooner if I'd done that. She's not about to get up, but watching her struggle is so adorable. I slide my fingertip slowly across her face, along one cheek and then the other. Grinning to myself I shift positions to whisper right into her ear. "Cute . . . You look even more attractive when you're helpless . . ."

"Mrmmh . . ." She mumbles again, and I'm sure by now she's awake enough to both feel my finger, and taste the faintest edge of fruit on the rope. Her body starts to shake, not squirm but actually shake. Poor thing, mine as well get on with it. Her breasts do look so sizzling shaking like that, the flesh nearly rippling.

She's so well toned, I just want to run my hands over her entire body, but that has to wait. That's the reward, not the purpose.

I'm almost disappointed she's not latched to the gag, sucking on it and licking for all of the taste she can get, but if she was that easy then this would be over kill. "Do you want me to take the gag out . . . Or would you prefer if I let you suck all of the sweet taste off of it first? I can wait, if you'd like."

"Mrph!" It's as loud as she can get, and her head shakes back and forth violently. Even I can tell she wants me to take it out and well, I can be generous when I want to be. Reaching down I pull it up, even as she starts to struggle. I would call it thrashing, but she can't move enough to pull off thrashing. She looks so desperate, even with her eyes hidden under the dark black blindfold.

You'd think a woman who is more or less a professional kidnapper would deal with being kidnapped a lot better.

She doesn't look like she's sure exactly what's keeping her down yet, but that's no doubt a combination of inexperience with the tables turned and a little bit of a hangover. I know how it feels to go from the victim to the predator, but it must be very disarming to go the other way. "All right . . . but you be good now . . . Scream, and the gag goes back in . . . Oh what am I saying, you must know the drill by now . . ."

Her tongue runs around the inside of her mouth, and even though that might feel nice it does just lace her with a little more of that sweet fruity feeling. She whimpers, and the shaking subsides just a little as her voice whispers out. "What . . . I . . . I can't see . . . Where am I . . .? What did you do to me . . .?"

"Blindfold, for effect . . . Where? In a hotel . . . Not the one you were playing little miss bellhop, but that's all right. You weren't very good at that anyway." Smiling I stroke along her cheek again with a soft sigh. The fruity taste won't do much more than add a slight glaze to how she's feeling, but this experience isn't about any one feeling, it's about all of them compounding and pinning her deep under a sea of submission. "What? Nothing worse than you've done to many . . . What's more important, Caress, is what I'm going to do."

" . . . I can't see . . ." Her voice is a soft whine, and her tongue keeps on tracing around with her lips parted just enough to look so adorable. Even still, she doesn't stop trying to sit up, even bound as she must know she is by now. "Please let me go . . ."

"Begging . . .?" I have to admit I'm a little disappointed. "Come on, Caress . . . Not so tough when you're all nice and tied, huh?" She struggles just a little at that, and that's right when the last of the slack is used up, and that knot at her lips grinds, and pulls tight against her. If she hasn't felt how naked she is now, then this sensation should drive that home, as well as some sweet tingling pleasure.

She gasps, and whimpers as her body already betrays her and arches down against the knot. She looks so delicious, exposed, trapped, and it takes so much willpower not to wrap my lips around her soft pink nipples. They look so tempting there, still quivering as she continues to shake, but they'll be mine as soon as her mind is.

"Stop it . . ." Caress whispers, having to put far too much visible effort into enunciating. "Stop it . . . Don't do this . . . don't want to be all . . . all . . ."

"Tell me what you were getting ready to do , Caress . . ." She wasn't in her Slut Squat uniform when I captured her. I would give so much to know what's going through her head, and I will know soon enough already. So exposed, arched up in just the perfect ways to tempt me to touch her, but at least my eyes can touch her without her even knowing. "I won't lie to you, I'm not going to stop . . . but if you cooperate . . ."

"If you're not going to stop . . . Why should I do anything . . ." Her voice is actually convincingly brace. She doesn't know if I can make it better or worse, but the sooner she starts overestimating me, the better.

Her face tenses up, and I can tell she's trying to make her body stop subtly pressing into that knot. The ropes are slick, and that makes them feel a lot better than they should. Most of it is nothing at all, but if even a part of her mind believes there's more to it then it's a victory. I slide my hand over her cheek again, long and slow. "Because . . . You can leave these ropes able to be upset with me, or begging to be bound again, forever. It's your choice. If you don't believe me, just try to escape."

She does - desperately. Her whole body shakes as she quivers and struggles. Her toes curl as she tries to wrench her feet free. Her neck twists and shakes enough for her to give herself a concussion . . .

The way her hands are tied, her fingers can't even reach near any rope that could do anything but tighten its hold. Arching and twisting her torso or arms only makes her breasts held tighter and higher, and everything from her hips and below only pulls and grinds that knot harder against her sex, and it won't loosen even when she stops struggling, just giving her more of a sweet, hot, tingly need the more it grinds, the more it rubs at her clit, and grinds away at her mind.

"Oh god . . ." She moans but doesn't stop, she must know her struggling made it feel better - and worse - but she doesn't stop. The more her hips buck the harder it tightens, pulls, grinds, and the louder she moans. It's already held so tight, pressing into her so hard, and her body can't stay still. When she tries she simply ends up letting out a pitiful whine and shuddering more into the rope with her failure.

Every criss-cross of rope, every place on her body it slides over, wraps around, was chosen carefully just for this. As taut as the ropes get, they don't burn or pull too tight. How slick they are helps, and the slicking rope at her cunt is only getting more. As her hips shake the rope pulls tight against her slit, still keeping the knot right against her pearl. It won't loosen even if she does relax, which hasn't worked so far. Every effort to struggle or slacken only pulls the ropes tighter around her mind. "Goddess would be more appropriate . . . Do you just want more of the rope, or do you want to talk . . .?"

"Talk . . . talk . . . make it stoooop . . .!" Even as she pleads she squirms . . . She can't help it, and I can feel the need radiating off of her body even more than the heat as she keeps rubbing and melting herself into that sweet slick rope.

I know how nice it feels though . . . I tested it on myself first, just to make sure it would work. It's possible to want it to stop, but it is so hard, hardly worth it compared to how good it feels, but she's no ordinary woman. A normal woman, or one with a weakness for being tied down in her own mind, they would keep struggling and only pretend it was to resist and not for how good it felt, that slick rope slicking her up with something much stronger than her own juices. . .

Still . . . if she'll talk, this will be easier. Justice before vengance, after all. Carefully I reach down along her thigh, and tug at just the right place . . . and the rope loosens only enough for the rope along her lips to rest along her thigh instead. Once it's there I stroke over those sweetly flushed lips in a soothing gesture before pulling back to look over her whole body glistening. "Then tell me, what you were going to do . . . and to whom . . ."

"A lingerie model . . . Leslie Steam . . . I was going to touch her . . . just right, at a high price . . ." Her voice is through gritted teeth, but with how slick the rope is just from her alone, and all of the slick lines still between her and its threads . . .

"Sell her . . . where . . ." I grasp the rope, and gently, tenderly stroke the knot against her, not trapping it back in place, just stroking her with it, teasing her with it.

Her whole body turns limp, and the look on her face almost looks like she's a purring cat before she stiffens and arches hard into the knot. "Sell her . . . sell her . . . heey . . ." She groans out that last little word, and I think that finally all of the pieces are adding up. Oh well, no holding back now I suppose.

I can only imagine how good it felt to go limp and then shudder into the rope that's already so tight . . . and I ease the rope back into it's place before pulling it tight. That feeling of the slick melting into her, dissolving into her already aroused and helpless body . . . The only reason her arches and shudders are lesser now is because of how heavy the feeling of how sensitive, and focused the drug is making her feel. "Tisk, tisk . . . Don't tell me you're not important enough to know . . . or does only that . . . doctor . . .know . . .?"

"Oh . . . goddess . . . the knot . . . it's so deep!" She cries out and tenses against it, around it . . . Oh . . . it slipped in. She starts bucking harder, pulling it tighter, deeper, and her legs start to quiver in her tight bonds. Every quiver only drives it against her more, only erodes her more. If she's trying to focus on that instead of my questions, then that only makes it better.

"Oh . . . You like the knot . . .?" With a sigh I pull the rope at that same place again to make it tighter, to make it grind just perfectly, and with her own shuddering hips that only makes it better, so much better. The more she clenches around that knot the more she clenches openness, helplessness, fullness deeper into herself. "Tell me what I want to know . . . tell me . . ." With so much of it already smeared inside of her even the sound of my voice makes her quiver harder, and that makes me slide my other hand along my own thigh.

Her thighs clench so hard, just seeing them makes my own thighs try to mimic hers. "Oooh . . . Deep . . .!" Half a mutter and half a whine, her voice is dripping with lust, and I'm not sure if the way her face is twisted is her trying to resist the rope, or me.

In the end, they're both the same.

"Feel this rope . . .? The rope you're clenching around? This rope that binds each and every part of your body? The more you struggle against it . . ." I pull it tighter to accentuate my point and grin, nipping at her neck for just a moment before kissing her ear, whispering into it slowly, thickly, sliding my tongue around her ear just a little to add a little wetness to the effect. "The less you can struggle against me . . ."

"You said . . . said . . . you'd stop it . . . unng . . ." Her voice is so pleading, was she actually trying not to struggle? It doesn't matter, that knot is being pulled so deep inside of her . . .

"But you're not living up to your end . . . You're not telling me everything I want to know. Do they not let you know . . .?" I slide one of my bare legs slowly along the inside of one of her own, bare and bound, and grin as she shudders harder into the knot. "Do they keep you obedient . . . and then use your pretty fingers to bring them cash . . .?" Right around now, she should be feeling that knot in her head . . . Pushing in, grinding right into her reason and her passion, melting away everything else as even her brain starts to drip with lust. " . . .and bring them off . . .?"

Her harsh breathing turns into panting as her pretty lips can't seem to do anything but part and struggle. Finally she starts trying to arch away from it, but all that does is pull it deeper into her, tighter into her, holding her legs tighter to make that helpless feeling even better. "Stop . . . stop . . . stoooop . . .!"

She couldn't be doing what I want any better if I'd already tied off her mind. Watching her as her whole body struggles to struggle, to find a way to actually resist, is more of a thrill than anything I've done as Patina. Nothing has been so thrilling, so . . . so fucking hot. My other hand keeps stroking right beside the rope, and even just her panting right now is enough to grind that knot more than it needs to wipe everything away. "Then stop resisting . . . tell me . . . or am I right? Are you used to this, you touchy little temptress . . .?"

She can't even resist it anymore, and I can almost tell the moment when the strained muscles in her face relax into the grinding, into the clenching as that knot keeps thrusting its way deeper into her mind, weighing and tying down her thoughts, making everything in her mind tied in the helpless lust she feels right now. "Neve . . .r . . . help you . . ."

Even if I untied her at this point and just kept the knot inside of her it would be too much for her to resist, and the slicker she gets, the easier her body metabolizes the drug, the easier the knot can move inside of her. God just the thought is making me quiver as I wrap that leg tighter around her. "You don't have a choice . . . You need to help me . . . You'd just love to help me . . . Wouldn't you . . .? I can make it even . . . better . . ."

Her whole face quivers in the way I've felt mine quiver so many times when even my mind is starting to work against me, and her hips only thrust faster as her lips grind and clench, and her other lips just whimper and whine so incoherently.

The sheets are already so beyond ruined, and her body feels so hot, so warm. During one of her harder grinds I give one of her nipples a hard twist, and she screams as her thighs clench harder. So soon, so soon I'll be fucking her body as I fill her mind with nothing but the need to help me, the need to obey and betray all of the secrets of her hot slutty little mind.

"You need to help me, Caress . . . so I can help you . . . so I can make this nicer for both of us . . . You do want it to be even nicer, don't you? We can slide the knot so deep inside of you that every time you think your mind clenches around the knot . . . You'd have an orgasm just trying to remember your own name . . ." And that thought must already be turning to reality, because the scream I get in response makes me quiver hard against her. Of course, stroking along her lips as she clenches has to help. "And oh, thoughts to help me . . . will be even better . . ."

Her movements are so frenzied, so lost, but she's not fighting anymore, I can tell. There's nothing left in her but need and desire. All she needs now is for me to temper that to obedience. "Sure . . . sure!"

"Then tell me . . . tell me where I can find that auction, or better yet . . . where I can find your 'sisters' . . ." It'd be better to get my matching set before I go after the goal, but mmm it's still so tempting. If she can't respond now, I'll just have to wait until she can. She'll help me sooner or later, and now, I don't think she even wishes she had a choice.

Both sets of flushed lips are drooling now as she pleads, grinding and crying out so helplessly. "Sure! Anything! Whatever!" She screams and grunts as she continues to clench, struggling just to feel how tightly she's bound . . . Mmmm . . ."

Every second brings my own fulfillment closer, but just this far has almost sent me over the edge. To think this woman almost did as much to me before makes it even stronger, a deeper desire, a greater need. This isn't even the thrill of vengeance. This is just the thrill of the hottest experience in my life. "When you finally cum . . . you're going to be bound up forever, like a hot little present, all tied up in your mind, just content to wait to be opened, and each time you are, once I'm done with you . . . You'll be tied right back up . . . Content to be trapped, needing to be trapped . . ."

"Okay! Okay!" Her agreement is practically thrust into my ears as she keeps twisting and turning, whining as her breasts shake with every hard thrust, her nipples so hard, so delightful as they keep bouncing, shuddering, tempting me each time . . .

My fingers trace a figure eight around them, teasing them, twisting the second as it curves back around. I'm so glad I'm already out of the leotard. It would take a week of washing it to get my arousal out of it. "Come on now . . . burst all over that hot knot . . . tie your mind up tight!"

"Oh . . . oh . . . OH! Yes! Okay! YES!" She groans so long and loud, and her orgasm is so wet I can hear it as it squishes and slicks out of her, and she clenches so tight, so hard . . .

And I clench around her leg to grind my own wet lips into her, to shudder as I finally run my hands all over that taut body, muscles firm underneath her skin but not unnattractively, and not in a way that doesn't still let her be soft. I was so afraid this wouldn't work, and now . . . and now oh god it's better than I could have ever dreamed!

"Good . . . all tied up . . . and while you stay in those sweet ropes in your mind . . . I'm going to make those into ribbons, and stroke over every last little bit of that sweet obedient skin before unwrapping you as a hot little gift to myself . . . how does that sound, my little present girl?"

Oh, one of her sisters could have found me, found her, or something but now . .. now, its perfect. It's fine . . . better than fine . . .

She just drools, mindless and sweet as she tenses around the ropes, into the ropes, and just keeps grinding. As good as the knot in her pussy must feel, I know it doesn't feel half as good as the one between her eyes.