Damsel In Distress Retired

This story, set in the world of Scooby-Doo, features damsel-in-distress bondage and some humiliation; it's not explicitly sexual but reader discretion is advised. There are gagtalk translations at the end of the story for those who are interested.

1. The Case Of The Ghastly Ghost

"I'm

so

over this damsel-in-distress nonsense."

Daphne Blake blew a stray lock of auburn hair out of her eyes and glared defiantly at the rest of the gang. Given that her wrists were still bound in front of her and she had been ungagged for all of two seconds - the expensive green scarf was back around her neck where it belonged - the declaration was not entirely convincing.

"Are you sure, Daph?" said Fred, smirking. "We always assumed you enjoyed it! You really should have said something."

"Enjoy this?!" If looks could kill, Fred would have been pushing up the daisies. "Enjoy getting tied up and carried around like a sack of potatoes? Enjoy being gagged with my own scarf? Enjoy having my tights yanked up by some handsy ghost?" Remembering that last part, the feisty redhead turned and bestowed an awkward, two-handed punch on the slumped-over figure in the white clown costume. There was no response.

"But jinkies, Daph, it does seem to happen an awful lot," Velma pointed out. "Mathematically, it is highly improbable that an able-bodied woman in her mid-twenties who

isn't

trying to get captured should be taken prisoner four times in any given ninety-minute duration."

"Rive rimes!"

"Thank you Scoob, five times. The statistical analysis doesn't lie, I'm afraid."

"The statistical analysis can kiss my butt. I wasn't walking around asking to be kidnapped." In an effort to change the subject, Daphne pouted at Fred and batted her eyelashes. "Can you untie me, please?"

Fred hurried over to assist, unable as ever to resist the appeal of a damsel in distress - even one who refused to accept that designation. But Velma ploughed on with the stubborn perseverance that had proved the downfall of so many sinister amusement-park owners across the nation.

"Go on then, Daphne. We already know how you got tied up in the janitor's closet, and ribboned up in the balloon room, and wrapped up on the conveyor belt, and packaged up in the life-sized doll room. Tell us what happened this time."

"Well..." Daphne knew it wasn't going to sound good. But it had seemed like such a clever idea at the time! "It was when I was being the bait..."

Velma raised an eyebrow. "I thought you might be a little too good at that job."

"I was very good at it! I noticed that the ghost always seemed to truss me up, so I thought it must be keen on that sort of thing - you know, bound and gagged damsels in distress, all that stuff. So I figured that the ghost would find me irresistible if I was tied up."

"Ruh ro."

"Like, tell me you didn't tie

yourself

up, Daphster," said Shaggy.

"I may have done. Just a bit. But that isn't how I got caught! I'm just setting the scene."

Fred had finally finished unpicking the knots around Daphne's wrists, and he now whipped off the cords with a flourish.

"Don't tell me," he laughed. "You locked yourself in a set of antique manacles and handed the ghost the key. Or you wrapped yourself up with duct tape, like a neat little parcel."

"No!" Daphne was conscious, as on so many occasions in the past, that the gang were looking at her as if she was a complete liability. The worst part, somehow, was the way they all seemed to find her susceptibility to capture so amusing, even endearing.

"The plan had worked! I was luring the ghost into our trap. But then it... caught me, with a jump rope. And tied me up. And started grabbing my... you know. So I told it not to, and it gagged me!" Daphne blushed with embarrassment and frustration.

"Never mind, Daph," said Fred, smiling patronisingly. "You just can't help it, can you? I'm the ideas man, Velma here looks after the boring details, Scoob and Shaggy do... their thing, and you're the damsel in distress who gets kidnapped. We're a brilliant team!"

Fred was saved from Daphne's angry reply by the timely arrival of the Mystery Machine, which smashed through the door of the factory and squealed to a halt mere feet from the startled gang. And moments later, the warehouse was a circus of fans and media, all clamouring for information about the case - including the identity of the Luna Ghost, who turned out to be Old Man Smithers, the creepy janitor, in an elaborate disguise.

It wasn't until the gang made it outside that they were able to continue the conversation. But it didn't go well. Velma was furious that Fred had taken credit for her plan. And Daphne was furious that she had spent so much time as a captive.

"Daph, look," said Fred, unhelpfully. "It's not our fault that you always get kidnapped."

"I do

not

always get kidnapped. I can't believe you'd say that to me."

"Oh, please," said Velma. "You come with your own ransom note."

There was no coming back from that. Daphne stole Velma's glasses; Velma accidentally throttled Fred half to death; and Shaggy attempted a food-themed motivational speech which somehow made everything worse. Before they knew what was happening, the gang had fallen out completely and gone their separate ways, swearing never to speak to one another again.

2. The Case Of The Disappearing Damsel

As far as Daphne was concerned, breaking up the gang was the best idea she'd ever had. And it

had

been her idea, whatever Velma might say on the matter.

"Always getting kidnapped, am I?" she muttered to herself. "Come with my own ransom note, do I? Laughably straightforward for villains to bind and gag me, is it? I'll show them!"

Daphne was more determined than ever to leave behind her reputation as a damsel in distress. Never again would she mmpphh helplessly from behind a tight gag, pleading for a big strong man to come and untie her hands and feet. Never again would she allow a villain to toss her over his shoulder like a helpless prize and carry her off to his spooky lair. Hadn't these villains heard of feminism? It was the 21st century, not 1969.

Fortunately, she knew exactly where to go.

oOo

"My name is Daphne, and I am a damsel in distress."

"Hello Daphne," the room chorused back at her. There were roughly a dozen young women sitting on foldaway chairs, holding cups of bad coffee. A sign read "Damsels Anonymous: One Kidnap At A Time."

"Let's see. I'm 25, an Aries, obviously! I work as a private investigator. And it's been... three days since I was last bound and gagged." She blushed. "I actually got bound and gagged five times that day."

The faces around her shone with sympathy and understanding. Daphne felt better already. "It's okay, honey," said one beautiful fellow redhead, who according to her badge was named April. "We believe in you. Keep going."

"I just..." Daphne sighed. "I don't want to play this part any more. I'm supposed to be part of a gang, but I never get to do anything fun. There's this one guy, Fred, who gets to be the hero, and my girlfriend Velma has all the clever ideas, and this weird stoner Shaggy says the jokes, and even his stupid dog gets more lines than me because I'm inevitably gagged. Why do they always feel the need to put a gag on me? Why would a ghost care if I can talk? It's so humiliating."

It all came flooding out, the frustration and embarrassment that had built up over the years. The hours spent tied to chairs. The laughter when her friends pretended not to understand what she was saying through a gag. The total lack of bondage applied to the rest of the gang.

"Have you talked to your friends about this?" asked April. "Maybe they could make more of an effort to prevent you getting kidnapped. I bet they always insist on splitting up, don't they?"

"Yes! Why do we do that, if not to present villains with the perfect opportunity to capture me? It makes no sense at all."

The group smiled at one another, as if Daphne had stumbled across a truth they had realised long ago.

"That's a common experience," said April. "If you're a damsel, you need to accept that your friends and loved ones won't always have your best interests at heart. They might come and rescue you once you get captured, but for whatever reason they will feel compelled to put you in situations where you're likely to get captured in the first place. It isn't their fault, it's just the way they are."

"My boyfriend is supposed to go on reporting assignments with me," explained a dark-haired young woman named Lois, "but he always seems to vanish at the exact moment when things become dangerous. I get captured and tied up, and have to be rescued by this other guy I met recently. But I don't blame either of them. It's just the way things work."

"If Robin would let me live with him in the forest, I bet I'd be safer. But he insists that I stay in the castle with his worst enemy, who obviously takes me prisoner whenever he feels like it."

"Mario goes on a fishing trip with his brother once a month and what do you think happens while they're gone? I get kidnapped!"

"And my four best friends always turn up slightly too late to stop me getting nabbed by the bad guys," concluded April. "It's not in their nature to prevent trouble, only to deal with it when it arises. And I've accepted that." She smiled. "One day you will too."

Daphne looked around the group. She knew the women were trying their best to offer good advice, but she felt uneasy.

"I didn't come here to accept the way things are," she exclaimed. "I want to learn how to change them!"

oOo

"Okay," said April. "Let's try a roleplay. You be you, and I'll be a villain."

"Right."

"Stop right there, my proud beauty!" April was doing a deep voice and some highly convincing facial expressions. "You're my prisoner now!"

"Well jeepers, mister! I guess I surrender. I won't try to escape, I promise!"

"Good! But I don't trust you, so I'm going to tie you up. Minion, pass me the rope!"

A young lady in a pink jumpsuit handed over a coil of thin cord - Daphne noticed that there was a coil under everyone's chair - and April gently drew Daphne's hands behind her back.

"Is this okay?" she asked quietly. Daphne nodded.

Her wrists were crossed and tightly lashed together with the cord, which was wrapped around and then between them. Daphne was depressingly familiar with the technique: it was simple but effective.

"I cannot allow you to run away, fair maiden, so I shall bind your pretty legs."

April, giggling just a little, knelt in front of Daphne and quickly tied her legs together, using more and more coils of rope provided by other members of the group. With ankles and knees tightly bound, April knew her legs were largely useless to her. Although hopping was still an option, and one she had used in the past.

"Since I've got some rope left over, I might as well tie it around your arms."

The rope encircled Daphne's chest, with multiple loops snugly pinning her upper arms to her sides. This felt like overkill.

"Gee, mister, is this really necessary?"

"Silence, impertinent damsel!" April flourished a brightly patterned bandana. "Is it okay if I gag you now?" she whispered. Daphne nodded, and the cloth was folded, then placed over the top of her lips and knotted at the nape of her neck.

"Our proud beauty is silent at last!" gloated Daphne's redheaded captor.

"You know, I can still talk through this thing," she pointed out.

"We know it's not very effective," said a blonde in a long red dress. "But it's traditional. Besides, if you insist on talking through the gag, the villain will feel obliged to do something about that, and you don't want to see some of the gags they sell these days. Best just to pretend you're more silenced than you really are."

This really

was

good advice. "Gnnn phhnnkhnng," Daphne said, feeling duplicitous. [1]

"That's better," said April. "Now, what would you normally do at this point?"

Daphne thought for a moment. "Mwmrngglmm nhbnnph nnmffmcphnflmmm?" [2]

"Maybe you could try escaping?"

"Nhknm, Mn mmnmm!" [3]

She started by twisting her arms about, trying to free her wrists. But the rope around her torso reduced her leverage so much, and the rope around her wrists was so tight and secure, that it was useless. She couldn't reach any of the knots with her questing fingers. And no matter how much Daphne strained and squirmed, none of the ropes showed any signs of fraying or coming undone. After five minutes of determined wriggling the bonds felt exactly as tight as when April had applied them. No - in fact, they felt

tighter

.

"Nph'ph nn gnnd," Daphne admitted, grudgingly. "N'mm nmfmr gmph nnph nf phhnph." [4]

April smiled and patted Daphne on the head. "We knew that. But struggling only made you feel worse, didn't it?"

oOo

It was ten minutes later, and Daphne was untied and sheepish.

"Is there any hope for me?"

"Maybe not as an escape artist," grinned a pretty brunette in a yellow jumpsuit. "But then, there really isn't much point. You could spend years learning to escape from simple bindings, but the villains would simply adapt and bind you more thoroughly. You're at the gentler end of the spectrum right now and I don't think you'd enjoy the upgrade."

There was a murmur of agreement.

"So what do you think, honey?" asked April. "Are you ready to join us in the Damsel In Distress Affirmation?"

The group began to chant.

"I might be gagged but I've still got a voice. It's okay to be helpless. Being captured isn't a failure..."

"No!" The room was suddenly silent. "What a load of hooey. I might not be able to escape from ropes, but I sure as heck can learn to beat up the losers who try to put the ropes on me. I swear to you all, I'm going to travel the world, learning from the greatest martial arts experts, and make sure that no villain can truss me up and gag me ever again!"

Daphne stood up to storm out of the room, then realised she had got her feet tangled up in her own coil of rope.

"Sorry, could someone give me a hand?"

3. The Case Of The Intriguing Invitation

Two years later, two young friends met up by chance in the airport.

"Charter service to Spooky Island will begin boarding momentarily," said a monotone voice over the PA. Fred and Velma checked their tickets, then looked at one another in disbelief.

Before either could comment on the coincidence that both happened to be travelling to the same remote island on the same flight, they heard a familiar voice.

"What do you mean I can't have seven carry-on bags?" protested Daphne, sailing regally into view. "That's so

economy

."

"Daph?"

"Crap."

Daphne lowered her sunglasses, realising what had happened.

"Oh no," she said. "I'm not talking to you guys!"

Miming melodramatically she zipped up her mouth and threw away the key. And then, annoyed, she changed her mind. How dare they horn in on her adventure?

"What the heck are you doing here?" she said, lips miraculously unzipped.

"Isn't it obvious?" said Velma, with just the hint of a sneer. (Of

course

she had worked it out, thought Daphne.) "We all received the same letter from one Emile Mondavarious... the reclusive owner of Spooky Island."

"Not fair! I was gonna solve the mystery all by myself for the first time ever."

Fred smiled infuriatingly. "How are you going to save yourself when you get caught?" he wondered out loud.

"I'm a black belt now. I've transformed my body into a dangerous weapon."

Fred and Velma chuckled at this. They couldn't help it.

"It's true!"

Poor Daphne didn't get a chance to defend herself properly, because yet another familiar voice piped up.

"Far out! I guess we're, like, all going to Spooky Island, man!"

That was Shaggy, which meant that Scooby wasn't far behind. And just like that, the gang was reunited.

"Hey gang, have you heard?" said Fred maliciously. "Daphne's turned herself into, what was it? A lethal object?"

"A dangerous weapon."

"Riiiight. And how dangerous do you think that body will be when it's bound tightly with rope, wrists and ankles all neatly tied up, your helpless body lashed securely to a chair with a gag in your mouth?"

Daphne blushed with annoyance. Why couldn't they stop mentioning her embarrassing experiences as a damsel in distress? She was trying to leave that reputation behind! Sometimes she almost thought that Fred liked seeing her in tight humiliating bondage.

"Say, Daph," Fred went on, "the next time I rescue you, which should I untie first: your hands, or your gag?"

Daphne fumed, but the rest of the gang couldn't help but smile. Velma let out a small giggle before stifling herself, which was all the encouragement Fred needed.

"What's the best treatment for rope burn, Daph?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Sorry Daph, you'll have to repeat yourself. I just can't understand you without a cloth over your mouth."

"Goshdarnit, Fred! You are not going to have to rescue me again! I've turned a corner in my life. I am not a damsel in distress any more!"

"Oh, come on, Daph. You don't expect us to believe that, do you? How are you going to stop yourself getting captured?"

"With my martial arts skills!"

Daphne suddenly became very calm, and a smug smile spread across her face.

"While you were doing the lecture circuit and Velma was shooting rockets into space I was learning how to fight. Judo, kung fu, Jeet Kune Do, funk dancing... you name it, I've mastered it."

She leaned in close to Fred and her voice dropped to a whisper.

"You should watch your mouth, pretty boy, or I might show you my skills. And believe me, one round with me and you'd go crying back to mommy."

Fred gulped, noticing for the first time the change in Daphne's stance, her toned muscles, her air of confidence. Maybe this was for real? He forced a smile.

"Hey, I was just kidding! We're pals, aren't we Daph? Now, why don't we get on that plane before it leaves without us..."

4. The Case Of The Captivating Castle

When they arrived at their destination, the gang were greeted by Emile Mondavarious, the island's owner. He believed the place was cursed: its excitable young visitors were mysteriously being transformed into brainwashed automatons.

Velma and Fred each smugly boasted that they would work out the solution first, but for once Daphne thought she had them beat. Not just in solving the mystery, but in proving herself a hero rather than a damsel in distress.

"You guys are going to look like total, total idiots," she crowed, "when you're captured and I'm the one saving you! Hey Velma, I wonder what you'll look like with a gag in your mouth? Awfully cute, I expect!" She grinned, looking forward to being on the other side of the ropes for once.

The gang raised their eyebrows at Daphne's newfound confidence, but there was no point standing there and debating when there was a mystery to be solved.

Who, then, was the culprit? Was it N'Goo Tuana, who led the sinister firelit ritual on the first night? Was it the muscular and intimidating ex-wrestler Zarkos? Was it the real-life voodoo master with the suspiciously pathetic voodoo skills? Daphne didn't know, but she was sure the answer could be found in the Spooky Island castle.

The difficult part was convincing Shaggy and Scooby to come along, especially after the incident with the alleged monster in the alleged scary forest. But Daphne had been working with the pair long enough to know how to motivate them, and a few strategically deployed Scooby Snacks did the trick where appeals to their chivalry did not.

Surprisingly, in fact, Daphne need not have bothered recruiting backup, because the castle turned out to be crawling with Mystery Inc personnel. Fred, for instance, swaggered through the door boasting that he'd already found several clues and warning Daphne that she might be in danger. And when she promised to "open a can of 2,000-year-old Chinese whoop-ass" on any bad guys, Velma took the opportunity to frighten her by hiding inside a giant skeleton monster costume. Typical, Daphne thought. Always trying to make me look bad. And why can't those two let me grab the glory for once?