From the Many Thrilling Adventures of Jodi McJoy!
		by Van © 2023
		Chapter 9

So... Jodi was naked, her arms were folded behind her back in the classic and by this time familiar box-tie position, her fingers and hands encased in tight canvas mittens and pressed against her spine―a pair of broad horizontal straps of canvas webbing pinned her upper arms against her torso and passed above and below her boobs―another pair of webbing straps diagonally yoked her shoulders―and a ventilated ball-gag plugged her mouth under the taut, wide strip of Microfoam tape stretched across her lower face from ear-to-ear and nose-to-chin.  Her hair was still just a little damp from her recent shower, but it had been brushed, combed, and secured by some sort of clip in a loose ponytail and probably didn't look all that bad; however, Jodi didn't have a mirror so she couldn't be absolutely sure.  Also, her eyes were wide with shock, surprise, terror, dismay, etc.

Dr. Greta Payne, flaxen-haired giantess and Director of the Blissful Beach Spa and Sanatorium, was sitting behind her gigantic desk in her luxurious office with a disapproving frown on her undeniably beautiful but arguably quirky face.

The BGs, Jodi's Japanese and Indian black-scrubs-wearing handlers, were standing on either side, firmly but gently gripping her arms and generally in complete control of her naked, bound, gagged, and diminutive person.  And now that she noticed, a second pair of unfamiliar scrubs-wearing BGs were also present and standing together off to her left.  They were a fair-skinned blonde and a dark-skinned African, and both were gorgeous, fit, and no doubt as competent as Jodi's current managers.  Apparently, all BGs working in the Sanatorium were gorgeous, fit, and competent.  It was probably a condition of employment.

Also, Liz Tarantola was sitting in one of the pair of visitor chairs in front of The Doctor's desk (and Jodi could tell it was Liz and not her twin Carla by the presence of her trademark bangs.)

And oh-by-the-way... sitting in the other visitor chair (and the cause of of Jodi's manifest distress) was Dominique DeFossé!  Jodi's gorgeous 40-something boss!  She was wearing a pretty blue dress, a pair of shining steel handcuffs (!!!), and from her expression and and the way she was fidgeting in the chair she was uncharacteristically ill at ease, even fretful.  Go figure.

Jodi decided to open the conversation.  "Mrrrrrf?"

Dr. Payne shifted her somewhat uncongenial gaze to Dominique and indicated Jodi with an elegant flip of the wrist.  "There.  As you can see, your cute little ginger snoop is none the worse for wear."

Dominique's beautiful brown (and worried) eyes were focused on Jodi, of course, the naked, bound, and gagged ginger snoop in question.  "Are you okay, Jodi?" she asked quietly.

Jodi blinked before answering.  Was she okay?  An interesting question.  Granted, she was naked, bound, and gagged and the last few days had been... eventful, but she wasn't in any real distress, and she certainly hadn't been physically harmed in any way, so far.  So... yes, one might say she was "okay;" however, she was also naked, bound, and gagged and had been recently and repeatedly diddled by the Beautiful Woman down in the depths of the Sanatorium!  She decided to compromise by squirming in her bonds (and the BGs' continuing gentle but firm and inescapable grips) and blinking several times.  "Mrrrrrk!"

"There," Dr. Payne said.  "Now that that's settled, let's return to our main topic of discussion."

Dominique swallowed nervously.

Jodi was mildly annoyed that the issue of her well being had been so quickly dismissed in such a caviler fashion, and that it hadn't been the "main topic" of discussion before her arrival.  Nonetheless, she listened attentively.

"Against my advice," The Doctor continued, "the board has decided to accept your reservation.  Your guest application is granted."

Dominique heaved a very quiet sigh and her expression became a little less worried.  She almost managed a weak smile.

Dr. Payne did manage a smile, but it was a decidedly sinister smile.  Her blue eyes remained focused on Dominique.

"However..." The Doctor purred, "I'm extending your booking to a full month, with the option for further extensions.  I'm also upgrading you from 'Deluxe-BE' to our 'Deluxe Extreme Bondage and Erotic Torture' program."  She nodded towards Liz.  "It's something Ms. Tarantola and I have developed over the last few months but haven't yet formally implemented.  You'll be our... test subject."

Dominique's brown eyes popped wide.  "But―"

Dr. Payne silenced her with an abrupt and imperious gesture, then shifted her gaze to Jodi.  "And as for you Ms. McJoy―"

Dominique's mouth snapped closed and she also focused on her employee and... fellow guest?

"Your visit has also been extended," The Doctor continued.

Dominique's eyes widened.  "But―"

The Doctor silenced Dominique with another abrupt gesture.  "If I were you, Ms. DeFossé, your cute little ginger snoop wouldn't be my primary concern."

Jodi's green eyes widened. 'Not her primary concern?'  Of course I'm her primary concern!  She's my boss!  Jodi focused on the boss in question and was relieved to see that Dominique was gazing back at her and did seem concerned... as far as Jodi could tell.  It remained clear, however, that Dominique was anxious and/or worried in general (and her wrists were still in handcuffs).

"Now," The Doctor continued, "strip."

Now Dominique was the one that was blinking.  Obviously, the order had been for her and not Jodi, as Jodi was already naked (not counting her bonds).

"Excuse me?" the ultra-wealthy, beautiful, exquisitely attired, but handcuffed brunette inquired.

Liz smiled pleasantly and repeated her boss's order.  "Strip.  Remove your clothing.  All of your clothing.  Then fold each item and form a neat and tidy stack on the seat of your chair."

Dominique continued staring as the African BG pulled a small remote from her pocket, pressed a button, there was a quit click, and Dominique's cuffs opened and fell from her wrists and onto her lap.

"Now, Ms. DeFossé!" Liz barked.  The Doctor had spoken, so now the diminutive Sanatorium Supervisor took charge.

Dominique leaped to her feet, kicked off her no doubt hideously expensive and probably custom-made-in-Italy high-heel pumps, hiked up the skirt of her royal-blue dress, pulled down and peeled off a pair of "nude" pantyhose... followed by a skimpy white pair of panties (with white lace trim).  Next, she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress, shrugged it off her shoulders, and removed it completely.  That left only her bra, which was white and frilly and matched her already removed panties.  Soon, it too was removed and dropped onto the chair.  Dominique then followed Liz's instructions, quickly folding her garments and arranging them in the mandated "neat and tidy stack" on the seat of her visitor chair.

Dominique DeFossé, mega-wealthy CEO and Creative Editor of Domino Magazine (and Jodi's boss) was now nude―totally nude―and highly embarrassed.  (She was blushing.)  She stood beside the vacated chair, her bare feet nervously fidgeting on the plush carpet, her right hand shielding her pubic area, and her left arm raised and pressed against her chest, covering her boobs.

Jodi stared in amazement.  Clearly, her wealthy and powerful boss was mortified, but she'd done as she was told without even a protest!  Go figure.  And oh-by-the-way, Dominique had a stunning figure.  She was in very good shape.  This wasn't exactly a revelation, but it was the first time Jodi had actually seen her billionaire employer in the buff.  As an Intrepid Investigative Reporter, Jodi valued direct evidence, and now she had it.  Dominique DeFossé was a looker!

Liz rose from her chair, plucked Dominique's panties from the pile, held them between finger and thumb... and smiled (evilly).  "In your mouth, Ms. DeFossé, then cuff your wrists behind your back."

Dominique stared at the dangling panties in horror (as did Jodi)... then plucked them from Liz's fingers, wadded them into a ball... paused to gaze sadly at the white, silky lump in her hands for a couple of tragic seconds... then (with a delicate shudder), stuffed them into her mouth as ordered.  She then retrieved the cuffs from the chair, secured her left wrist―Click!―placed her hands behind her back, fumbled for a few seconds, then managed to secure her right wrist.  Click!  She then gazed sadly at her tiny, devilishly cute handler, awaiting further instructions.

Jodi could confirm that the panties were, indeed, crammed in her boss's mouth.  Not only had she just watched it happen (with amazement), but her boss's cheeks were now bulging... just a little.

"I imagine those things are quite ripe," Liz purred, smiling up at the nude, handcuffed, and sad-eyed Dominique.  "No doubt it was a long, tedious flight from the mainland, even in First Class; and was followed immediately by a lengthy helicopter flight from Oahu to Blissful Beach.  All that time with your rump squirming in various luxuriously padded seats.  Also, you're not yet used to our Hawaiian climate, so I imagine you've been sweating a great deal.  In any case, if you spit those things out, you'll be very sorry.  Do you understand?"

Dominique nodded.  Her big brown eyes remained very sad.

And now that Dominique's wrists were cuffed behind her back and her left arm was out of the way, Jodi could clearly see that her boss's nipples were sporting a pair of jeweled studs!  Wow!  They were horizontal gold wires with each end capped by a setting with a single exquisite diamond!  The distance was pretty great, so Jodi couldn't be absolutely sure, but they looked impressive... meaning both the diamonds and Dominique's hooters... which weren't all that big but had pleasing shapes.  As for the metal elements, Jodi realized Dominique DeFossé could afford anything―silver, platinum, iridium, cadmium, Mithril, Vibranium, Unobtainium, anything―but Jodi's money was on white gold.  In any case, Dominique's diamond-studded nipple-posts were probably worth more that Jodi's entire jewelry collection and wardrobe back in her crappy apartment.

Anyway, the important revelation was that Dominique DeFossé had pierced nipples!  Not only had Jodi's boss tried to book herself into Blissful Beach, but she was into nipple-garnishment!  Dominique was kinky!  Who knew?  Certainly not Jodi McJoy.  Some investigative reporter I am, she silently chided herself.

Dr. Payne addressed her Sanatorium Director.  "I assume her accommodations are ready?"

Liz smiled (or continued smiling) and nodded.  "A deluxe suite on the next floor down and a deluxe dungeon in our lowest subbasement."

"We'll start upstairs," Payne purred as she gazed at her naked guest (meaning the naked brunette guest in cuffs with her panties voluntarily stuffed in her mouth, not the tape and ball-gagged ginger guest in the canvas box-tie-harness).  "Let's get on with it, shall we?"

Liz and all four BGs sprang into action.

Dominique was frogmarched from the office by the Viking and African BGs.  There was just enough time for Jodi and her boss to lock eyes for a tragically sad and all-too-brief commiserating farewell exchange... then Dominique had been dragged across the threshold and out of the office.

Liz bowed to her boss (the evil blonde giantess behind the desk), smiled at Jodi (which Jodi didn't find at all chilling), then followed, closing the double doors behind them.

Meanwhile, the Japanese and Indian BGs had plunked Jodi into the visitor chair Liz had just vacated.  (And was it Jodi's imagination, or was the seat still warm?)  The Indian placed her hands on Jodi's shoulders to hold her in place while the Japanese BG strolled to a sideboard and returned with a generous coil of white braided nylon rope (3/8" diameter, about 15' in length).  Jodi watched with keen self-interest as, working in perfect synchronicity, the BGs tied her to the chair.  Soon, Jodi's knees were lashed together and to the chair's lower-left armrest and her ankles, feet, and big toes tied together and against the lower-right front chair-leg.  (And there was that unnecessary and superfluous ankle-foot-toe overkill bondage again.  Jodi still found it infuriating.)  Anyway... Jodi was in the chair to stay.

The BGs then bowed to their ultimate boss, smiled at Jodi, and left the office, also closing the double doors behind them.

Dr. Payne stared at Jodi for several seconds with her trademark quirky (and evil) smile just curling her lips.

Jodi stared back (but managed not to blink).

"By this time, Ms. McJoy," Dr. Payne finally said, "it should be clear that your boss has thrown you under the proverbial bus.  You see, she very much wanted to avail herself of our hospitality, but we only give our prospective guests a general idea of what they can expect.  We wouldn't want to spoil the surprises, now would we?  Anyway, apparently, she found that unacceptable and decided to send you ahead to scope things out.  And I assume it's safe to say she sent you here with..."  She raised an inquisitive eyebrow and her smile became overtly coy.  "...minimal preparation?"

Jodi blinked a few more times... then heaved a well-gagged sigh.  No preparation, actually... but 'throwing me under the bus' might be a bit harsh.  Anyway... she's right.

Dr. Payne pressed a button on her phone console before continuing.  "In her defense, Ms. De Fossé probably didn't want to reveal that she was even thinking about booking herself into one of the world's premiere bondage resorts.  Many of our guests, especially our more prominent clients, are reticent to have their personal proclivities become public knowledge.  But still..."  Payne's smile remained somewhat coy; but, to Jodi's surprise, it was now also what she could only call... genuinely friendly?  "I sympathize with your situation."

Just then, the double doors opened and Erin-the-secretary entered the office.  She was carrying a teak tray with a very pretty coffee set, which she placed on a sideboard.  The cups, saucers, and carafe were hand-crafted ceramics with a pleasing abstract/naturalistic glaze.  There were also charmingly rustic teaspoons with handles resembling wooden twigs.

Jodi got a good look at the tray as her fellow ginger carried it past, and she noted there were two cups and saucers.  Did that mean her tape and ball gag would soon be coming off?  And if so, would Erin be holding a cup of no doubt delicious steaming coffee to her lips?

As it turned out... no.  Erin poured coffee into only one cup, handed it to her boss... meaning Erin's boss... as opposed to Jodi's naked, handcuffed, and now absent boss... the one last seen with her panties self-stuffed in her mouth and supposedly on her way to a "deluxe suite."

"Thank you, my dear," Dr. Payne purred, then enjoyed a sip of the dark, hot, no doubt delicious caffeinated ambrosia.

"You're welcome, Doctor," Erin purred back, then made her exit, favoring Jodi with an irritatingly saucy smile, leaving the tray behind, not removing Jodi's gag, not pouring a second cup, and not holding the cup to Jodi's lips as common courtesy and professional due diligence should have dictated.

Jodi stared daggers at the impertinent little secretarial moppet with the ginger curls and plethora of freckles as she pulled the double doors closed behind her and was gone.

"I assume you've seen the movie Secretary, Ms. McJoy?" Dr. Payne purred, then took another sip of coffee.

Jodi blinked again.  Huh?  With Maggie Gyllenhaal?  Seeing no reason to fake a denial, she nodded her tape-and-ball-gagged head.

The Doctor continued.  "I've often thought Erin would look quite fetching wearing one of her pretty business outfits, perhaps a pencil-skirt and a white blouse, and locked in a rigid spreader-bar with a collar and a pair of tight cuffs, one on either end, and all secured with musically tinkling padlocks."  Payne's quirky smile took an even more sinister twist.  "And, of course, I'd seal her cute little lips with a broad strip of Microfoam tape... as yours are now; or perhaps a ring-gag to prop open her mouth so she could to drool down the front of her blouse.  She'd look quite fetching, don't you agree?"

Jodi nodded in a dazed manner.  On general principles she didn't approve of kinky bondage nonsense in the workplace, but had no choice but to agree that Erin deserved some form of punishment for being so devilishly cute while not being bound or gagged in any way... like Jodi.

Dr. Payne took another sip... then returned her cup to its saucer.  "Unfortunately, the productivity of this office would suffer significantly.  Anyway..."  She focused on Jodi with her coy, disturbingly quirky smile.  "In your employer's defense, I suppose it's conceivable Dominique might have succeeded in sneaking you in and out of Blissful Beach for a little preliminary reconnaissance without your getting caught; and if it had worked, she'd not only have a much better idea of what to expect as our guest; but, as an added bonus, she'd have a titillating article for her magazine.  However, it was cowardly of Ms. DeFossé to place you in such a dangerous situation while withholding vital information... and all so she could satisfy her curiosity while avoiding a little minor and very limited embarrassment."  The Doctor shook her head.  "Unconscionable."  Her quirky smile returned.  "Anyway, it could have worked."  Payne's smile became even more wicked.  "Unfortunately... it didn't."

Jodi blinked her green eyes a couple of times.  No, it didn't.

"We take the privacy of our clients very seriously," Payne intoned. "All reservation requests receive close scrutiny, even Economy-B requests, like yours."  She opened a file folder and began perusing its contents.  "I'm afraid the administrative staff at Domino did an entirely inadequate job of disguising the origin of your application.  We were immediately suspicious and eventually traced the payment back to the magazine's administrative office... and therefore to Dominique DeFossé."

Jodi heaved a somewhat exasperated sigh.  It's Florence Bredlow, that witch down in Accounting with the winged glasses, she silently fumed, the one who always demands detailed itemized receipts for every piddly-ass little business expense.  She's why I got caught!  This is her fault!

"Dominique was advised that she needed to be patient," Payne continued.  "I personally explained to her that our services are quite popular and there are only so many luxury bookings available at any given time, and that we can't possibly accommodate every request, no matter its origin.  Apparently... while awaiting her turn... she became impatient and decided to dip your toes into the water, so to speak."  She lifted her cup and took another sip of coffee.  "In any case, her people did a terrible job of setting up your... clandestine reconnaissance."

No, ya think? Jodi silently fumed.

"Well..."  Payne finished her coffee.  "I don't want you to worry.  We don't blame you for your boss's impatience.  Also..."

Jodi squirmed nervously as she waited for the proverbial other shoe to drop.

"We aren't totally averse to publicity," The Doctor finally continued, "as long as we have total control of the process and approval of the final product.  So... I have a proposal for you, Ms. McJoy.  What say we modify your assignment?  You'll be allowed to conduct your investigations and write your story, but on our terms... and Ms. DeFossé will accept our final edit... or there will be consequences."

Jodi was blinking again.  Consequences?  I bet!

"You'll continue receiving your normal salary from the magazine, of course," Payne stated, "and I'm sure we can convince Dominique to pay you an added bonus for your trouble.  In addition, you'll receive additional compensation from Blissful Beach."  Her quirky smile returned.  "Finally, I'm sure we can persuade Ms. DeFossé to sign over the publishing rights if you decide to expand your article into a book.  We might even be able to help you find a suitable publisher.  I have several high level contacts in the business."

Jodi stopped blinking and cocked her gagged head to one side.  As a resolution to her dire situation went, Payne's proposal was about as close to a best case scenario as she could imagine.  Nobody had made any overt threats, but in the back of her mind Jodi had been trying her best not to think about one-way boat trips to the far side of the Blissful Beach reef with an anchor tied to her ankles, or some similar horrible fate.  That said... abandon her journalistic ethics and write a blatant puff piece?  Jodi McJoy did not do puff-pieces!  So there!  However...  HELL YES I'll let you edit the story and give me a huge chunk of cash!  Jodi nodded in gagged-but-enthusiastic agreement.

"Excellent," Dr. Payne purred.  "Your vacation will continue, and I'll arrange to have one of our laptops provided so you can start writing.  Your laptop will remain in guest storage with the rest of your luggage."  She pressed a button on her phone console.  "Erin, are they ready for us?"

"Yes, Doctor," Erin-the-secretary's disembodied voice answered.  "I was just about to buzz."

I bet you were, Jodi silently fumed.

"Thank you," Payne answered, smiling at Jodi as she released the button.

Jodi started blinking again.  Ready?  Ready?  Ready for us?  Ready for what?

The Doctor rose from her chair and walked around the desk.  "It's been a while since I've had an opportunity to get hands on with one of our guests," she stated, "but I'm sure it'll be like riding a bicycle."

Jodi watched as Payne knelt, untied her knees and ankles (and feet and toes)... lifted Jodi to her feet, looped one end of the rope around her neck, then quickly and deftly tied a non-compacting knot.

"Voila!" Payne said with a quirky grin.  "One guest... naked, bound, gagged, and at the end of a convenient leash."

It was true.  Jodi was naked, bound, gagged, and on the end of a convenient leash, and the far end of the leash in question was in the hand of Dr. Greta Payne, flaxen-haired giantess and director of Blissful Beach Spa and Sanatorium.

"Off we go," Payne purred, and led Jodi from her luxurious office.

As they crossed the outer office, Jodi pointedly ignored the curly-haired little darling behind the receptionist's desk, the one with with the copper-red ringlets, way-too-many freckles, and bewitching smile.  She certainly didn't warn Erin that she was in imminent danger of becoming a Maggie Gyllenhaal cos-player, no-siree!  And Jodi's tape-ball-gag had nothing to do with it!

It was a quick trip down the luxuriously carpeted and tastefully decorated corridor to a different elevator from the one the BGs had used to transport Jodi up from the subterranean depths of the Sanatorium―followed by a very quick descent to the next floor down―followed by another quick trip down a luxuriously carpeted and tastefully decorated corridor to a set of cypher-locked double doors.   Payne entered a code in the keypad, there was a quiet click, a motor hummed, and the doors opened automatically.

They entered a large space Jodi found reminiscent of the Modern/Hawaiian splendor of her cozy bungalow-prison down in the Green Maze, only on a much grander scale.  Off to one side and facing the ocean was a balcony, and Jodi noted it was one of the balconies completely enclosed by an elegant cage of iron bars she'd noticed as she was being transported from the Green Maze to the Tower.  There were also a gigantic platform bed, a dining table with four comfy-looking straight chairs, two different conversation areas with overstuffed sofas, loveseats, and easy-chairs.  There was also a bathroom, or at least a tiled space that was visible through an open sliding door.  (And yes, there was a door, unlike the privacy-free tiled bathroom alcove back in Jodi's much smaller bungalow.)

Liz Tarantola was waiting, smiling her adorable but sinister smile and still wearing the same black high-heel pumps and semi-revealing-but-business-appropriate black sundress.

"Any problems?" Dr. Payne inquired.

"None to speak of," Liz answered.  Her big brown smiling eyes were on Jodi as she answered.  The sleek-cat-eyeing-a-juicy-mouse vibe was palpable... at least to Jodi.

Anyway, Jodi noticed that the Viking and African BGs who had dragged Dominique from The Doctor's office were nowhere to be seen... and the same went for Dominique herself... which was puzzling.

"She resisted?" Payne inquired.

Still smiling, Liz shrugged.  "She tried.  It was quite entertaining."

"I'm sure it was," Payne purred.

Jodi assumed they were referencing her boss, the one with the pierced nipples who The Doctor had accused of throwing Jodi under the proverbial bus.  In any case, Dominique was nowhere to be seen.

"Well," Payne purred, "let's not keep Ms. McJoy in suspense... so to speak."

Liz's smile broadened and became even more sinister as she shifted her focus to Jodi.  "Oh... but she'd look so cute dangling from her wrists... or perhaps in a full Vitruvian vertical spreadeagle."

Payne gave her subordinate a classic we-are-not-amused stare (even though she couldn't fully disguise her underlying amusement).

Anyway, Liz pulled what was either a large cell-phone or a small tablet from her pocket, tapped and slid her way through a series of menus... then gave the screen a final stab and shifted her smiling attention to a blue curtain across the room.

Jodi had noted the expanse of luxurious blue fabric earlier, but had taken it for either drapes covering a window or possibly a mono-colored tapestry.  Unusual?  Yes, but somehow it fit the decor.  Anyway, a motor hummed and the drapes (and yes, they were drapes) retracted to the left.  Simultaneously, an underlying gate of vertical steel bars retracted into the wall to the right.  Thus revealed was a generous alcove lined on all sides with more blue drapes, and―

Jodi's eyes popped to maximum width and she screamed through her gag.  "MRRRPFH!"

Centered of the alcove and lit from above by several mini-spotlights was a hefty vertical stand of richly stained tropical hardwood―and mounted atop the stand was what appeared to be an English riding saddle of gleaming brown leather―and mounted on the saddle was―Dominique DeFossé!

Not to Jodi's surprise her boss was still naked.  Her legs were splayed to either side with her ankles clamped in leather-padded steel cuffs attached to taut steel cables that led down and disappeared into steel-lined holes in the floor.  Also, her feet were on pointe with steel rings encircling her big toes and attached to the same cables.  Dominique would not be getting off the saddle until she was released.

In addition, a leather posture collar captured her neck, and it also cupped her chin and covered her mouth with her cheeks bulging above its top margin!  What do they call those things? Jodi tried to remember.  Oh yeah!  'Neck-corsets!'  Jodi's boss was gagged and her head rigidly immobilized in a tight neck-corset!

Also, Dominique's hands were encased in leather bondage mittens, her arms behind her back, and raised in a reverse-prayer with rings in the tips of the mittens clipped to the back of the neck corset!

Finally, Dominique's gleaming dark-brown hair had been plaited into a single braid, and its end was attached to a taut vertical steel cable traveling up to a compact motorized winch set in the ceiling!

There was zero slack in the arrangement.  Not only could Dominique not lift herself off the saddle, but she had no choice but to sit rigidly upright.  No slumping allowed!

And oh-by-the way... Dominique's no doubt super-expensive-diamond-stud-nipple-posts had been replaced by a pair of solid looking steel rings joined by about 12" of light steel chain!  And there was more!  Conical coils of steel wire surrounded and seemed to ever-so-slightly stretch Dominique's nipples!  The cones didn't appear to be attached to the rings, maybe, but they were there!  Jodi couldn't tell if her boss's new mammalian accessories were steel alloy―they could have been silver, platinum, iridium, cadmium, Mithril, Vibranium, Unobtainium, etc.―but the overall vibe was inspired industrial design and not fine jewelry, so if forced to guess Jodi would have gone with steel.

"I assume you're familiar with Sybian machines?" Dr. Payne inquired.

Jodi continued staring at her boss in abject horror (especially her ringed, maybe slightly stretched, and linked-by-chain nipples).  Dominique was staring straight ahead, not at Jodi, and was fidgeting and squirming... just a little.  Shivers and shudders were also happening, mainly evidenced by the occasional and slight swaying and jerking of the dangling ring-to-ring-chain, and―

Jodi blinked and shifted her gaze to The Doctor.  What did she say?  Sybian?  Did she say Sybian??  In Jodi's informed but personally inexperienced experience, a "Sybian machine" was a well-padded hassock or bolster (or whatever) with a built-in vibrator!  She focused her green eyes on her boss's crotch, but could see no sign of a plastic, latex, or rubber-coated ridge, with or without bristles or nubbins.  The saddle wasn't at all thickly padded and looked like a typical horse saddle.  All that was missing was the horse... by which she meant the animal, not the torture device (although it was a good bet they had at least one of those around here somewhere, along with a rack, pillory, iron maiden, and other traditional torture chamber accoutrements).

"Yes, our saddle is a Sybian," Payne chuckled.  Obviously, she'd noticed Jodi's scrutiny of Dominique's crotch.  "And a very sophisticated and computer-controlled Sybian at that."

"There are also dual penetrators," Liz added.  "Equally sophisticated."

"In this case, frustration is the order of the day," Payne stated, "but only mild frustration."

Liz smiled at Jodi.  "Keeping a subject on the very edge of orgasm for extended periods without her crossing the line into ecstasy and spoiling the game is quite challenging, even for a well-trained artificially intelligent program monitoring her respiration, heart rate, and galvanic skin response; however..."  She returned her gaze to Dominique.  "...extended low-level frustration isn't much of a challenge at all, especially when a large volume of data has been gathered from a sizable population of experimental subjects."

Jodi blinked several times.  Is that why Dominique is shivering?  Is she being... stimulated?

"Time is an important factor," Payne lectured.  "Subtle vibration becomes irritating, even torturous after a few hours."  She then frowned, pointed at Dominique's crotch, and turned to Liz.  "Why hasn't she been shaved?"

Jodi blinked again.  Shaved?  It was true.  Her boss's pubic bush hadn't been shaved... not that there was any good reason why it should have been shaved.  Anyway, Dominique's neatly trimmed and clearly defined curly thicket was perfectly intact.

Liz's smile turned decidedly wicked (see also evil, maleficent, and mischievous).  "I have one of our grooming staff scheduled to drop by this afternoon and pluck out her short-and-curlies with a pair of tweezers... one at a time."

Payne nodded, then leaned close and whispered in Jodi's ear.  "Not to worry, Ms. McJoy.  Remember, your boss came here for us to, shall we say, widen her horizons.  Our groomers are quite skilled and professional, and while their pubic-plucking might be somewhat disconcerting, it's not nearly as painful as one might think.  Do you believe me?"

Her green eyes wide and staring at Dominique's imperiled pubic patch, Jodi nodded rather frantically.  What choice did she have?  She certainly didn't want a personal demonstration!

"Very well," Payne smiled, then turned back to Dominique and indicated Jodi with a graceful gesture.  "I suppose it's time to deal with this one."  She then handed the end of Jodi's rope leash to her diminutive subordinate.  "I should get back to work."

Liz accepted Jodi's leash, thumbed the mini-tablet still in her other hand, then returned it to her pocket.  The overhead motors hummed again and the iron bars and blue drapes began to slowly close... sealing off Dominique and her alcove so she could "enjoy" the low-level computer-mediated frustration of her Sybian-saddle in naked, stringently bound, and gagged privacy.

I hope she doesn't fire me for all this, Jodi thought as her boss disappeared from view.  It's not my fault!

Then, Payne and Liz (and therefore Jodi when her leash snapped taut) turned and left the luxurious apartment/prison.

The Doctor gracefully strolled in one direction, without saying another word.

Liz led Jodi down the corridor in the opposite direction, also saying nothing.

Jodi could think of nothing clever to say (and was still gagged), so she also kept silent as she padded in her handler's wake.  She was on her way, as Payne had put it, to be 'dealt with!' and while she had no idea what that actually meant, she knew she was about to find out... and the prospect wasn't at all worrying.