From the Many Thrilling Adventures of Jodi McJoy!
		by Van © 2023
		Chapter 10

They entered the elevator and Jodi watched with relief as Liz had pressed the "L" button and not one of the buttons below that would have taken them down into the sinister subterranean depths of the Sanatorium.  She continued watching as the little lights blinked on and off during the descent... until the "L" button finally illuminated―Bing!―and the doors opened.  They were in the lobby.

It was the same large, airy space Jodi remembered from when she first entered The Tower.  Black-scrubs-wearing BGs (Sanatorium staff) were taking bound and gagged naked guests for walkies on the ends of leashes (like Liz was taking Jodi), while a few were dragging their charges by the arm (and in one case by her hair).  Jodi assumed the naked prisoners were guests, anyway.  There were also gorgeous women in string bikinis with golden name-tags (Spa staff) and others in tropical-weight business attire, all crossing the lobby with obvious purpose or standing around and chatting in pairs.

It was uniformed, naked, bikini-clad, or smartly dressed chaos, the sort of thing one might expect to see at the headquarters of a high-end bondage resort during normal business hours.

Anyway...

Liz led Jodi outside through the giant glass doors and onto the courtyard with its benches, fountains, green plantings, and lava-rock monolith sculptures.  The sun felt good on Jodi's skin after all those hours and/or days spent in subterranean padded cells, gloomy corridors, and the Therapy Room.  The sky overhead was a brilliant, gorgeous cerulean-blue, with nary a cloud in sight.  On the far side of the courtyard the palms and flowering hedges of the vibrant Green Maze rustled and stirred in the ocean breeze, and beyond was the beach and the Pacific.

Also―Gulp!―in the middle of the courtyard, Clara Tarantola rose from one of the benches to meet her twin (and Jodi).  The diminutive, wickedly winsome munchkin (and Director of the Spa) was wearing (just barely) a black bikini (with name-tag).  Apparently, either she'd decided to take a swim or for some reason wanted to be inconspicuous among her spa subordinates.  Her hair was styled in the same slightly longish pageboy (without bangs) that Jodi remembered.

"Sis," Liz greeted her twin with a dimpled smile.

"Sis," Carla returned the greeting.  She was also smiling.  "You kept me waiting."

Liz shrugged, then nodded towards Jodi.  "Sorry,  You know how Greta likes to gab when she has a captive audience."

Carla shifted her gaze to Jodi.  "Yes, Doc is quite loquacious once in gloating mode."  She accepted Jodi's rope leash from her black-sundress-clad twin, then her smile faded as she focused on the Green Tower and heaved a sigh.  "The sun and the ocean are nice, but I really need to spend more time down below in the Sanatorium."

"And I need to spend more time out in the sun," Liz sighed, "especially on the beach and in the water.  I keep returning to the idea of us switching jobs every few weeks, both for the change and to mess with our staffs' heads, but we both know it wouldn't work."

Carla sighed as well.  "Yes.  They can tell us apart, even when we're both dressed the same, for the ocean or business."

"Yeah," Liz agreed, "which ruins the game.  The sisters shared another tragic sigh.

Jodi snorted through her nose and rolled her green eyes.  Enough is enough!  They can not be that stupid! she silently fumed.  "Mrrrrrf!"

The twins (their wicked smiles returning) focused on their ginger-haired, naked, bound, and gagged guest.

"MRRRRF!" Jodi reiterated, stamping her right foot for emphasis (which caused her canvas-webbing-framed boobs to wobble and her loose ginger ponytail to sway).

"Apparently," Carla drawled, "the snoop has something she'd like to share."

"Apparently," Liz agreed, then reached out and snatched―(okay, quickly but carefully peeled away)―the tape from Jodi's lower face, revealing the underlying perforated ball-gag and liberating a modest flow of pent up drool).

Jodi's green eyes crossed, briefly.  Yow!

Meanwhile, Liz reached under Jodi's ginger ponytail, unbuckled the ball-gag, then re-buckled the strap on its first hole.

Jodi forced the ventilated spherical plug from her mouth and the entire gag dropped down around her neck into ugly-necklace-mode.  She then licked her lips, worked her jaws, and swallowed.  It felt good not to be gagged... for once.

"Well?" Carla inquired.

"Gimme a second," Jodi groused, then swallowed again.  "I can't believe you two," she scolded her handlers.  "The solution is obvious!"

The twins exchanged a bemused smirk.

"Enlighten us," Liz purred.

"And it better be good," Carla added (ominously).

Jodi rolled her eyes.  She couldn't help it.  "Your hair," she explained with exaggerated patience.  (She almost said "Your hair, you complete idiots!" but managed to restrain herself.)

"Our hair?" the twins responded in smiling unison.

Jodi focused on Liz.  "Bangs," she stated, then shifted to Carla.  "No bangs.  Get the same haircut and you can fool anybody.  Haven't you two seen The Parent Trap?"

The twins were suddenly thoughtful.

"She has a point," Liz conceded.

Carla pursed her lips in a slightly petulant pout.  "I don't like bangs."

"Geesh," Jodi interjected, shaking her head.  "Then get identical pixie cuts.  Shave your damn heads for all I care, just get the same cut."  She looked Carla's bikini-clad body up and down.  "And you need to spend the same amount of time in the sun.  That's also a difference.  Minor, but noticeable."

"I could use a little more color," Liz agreed, then raised her head and focused on the Tower's green roof.  "There is that sunbathing venue facing the mountains on the far side.  I'd use it without the restraints on the lounge chairs, of course."

"Of course, Carla agreed.  "And I see no reason we can't get matching cuts.  Remember the last time we went pixie?  We didn't look that bad."

This time Liz was the one pouting.  "We were cute," she objected.  "Too cute."

"Oh, boo-hoo," Jodi muttered.  "Learn to live with it.  I have."

The twins shared a chuckle, then grinned.

"Thank you, Ms. McJoy," Carla gushed.  "That was an excellent suggestion."

Liz's dimpled smile turned characteristically wicked.  "You know, Sis... Ms. McJoy would look cute-as-the-proverbial-bug in a short pixie."

Carla nodded as her smile also turned wicked.  "She would indeed.  Like a ginger Audrey Hepburn.  She'd also look fetching in a flapper-style pageboy... or a young-Meg-Ryan tousled mop."

"We should have the staff shave her head," Liz purred, "then see which look is best as her hair grows back."

"What a wonderful idea," Carla purred.

"No!" Jodi whined/blurted.  "Bad idea!"  She took an involuntary step back and her leash snapped taut.  "Don't you dare shave my―MRRRF!!"

In one lightning quick and obviously well-practiced motion, Liz had thrust the still-wet-with-saliva ventilated ball of Jodi's gag back in her mouth while Carla had tightened and buckled the strap.

"Mrrrrrf!" Jodi objected, then stamped her right foot again.  (Her boobs and ponytail bobbed and swayed in obedient response.)

"Greta wouldn't approve," Carla said, heaving a sad sigh.  "Shaving her head, I mean."

"Probably not," Liz agreed, "but if we catch her in the right mood..."

"Mrrrm," Jodi whimpered.  She did not want her head shaved.  Not even a little.  She didn't even want a trim.

The twins laughed (evilly, callously).

"Just jerking your chain," Carla chuckled, then gave Jodi's rope tether a gentle tug.  "Or in this case... your rope."  She smiled at Liz (but not evilly).  "Dinner tonight on the beach?  We can discuss haircuts and job-swapping."

"Another excellent idea," Liz nodded.

"Well," Carla said as she turned and led Jodi away.  "Later."

"Wait, I'm coming with," Liz purred, hurrying to catch up with her sister.  "The Tower will survive without my expert guidance for an hour or two, and I'm in the mood for a little fun."  The twins were now strolling (or padding, in Carla's barefooted case) side-by-side across the courtyard towards the sandy paths of the Green Maze with Jodi padding in their wake (not having any choice in the matter).

For some reason Jodi's scalp was tingling (just a little), even though her ponytail was in no way tight.  She decided her hair was probably reacting to the prospect of being severed by clippers and a razor gliding over her cranium.  Calm down, she silently chided her nervous follicles and beloved ginger locks.  They were only joking.  Her scalp and hair remained skeptical.  I'm pretty sure they were joking. They said they were joking.

The party entered the shade of the Green Maze and the journey continued.

Jodi squirmed in tight, restrictive, inescapable bondage.  Big surprise... huh?

Technically, it was a combination box-tie/frog-tie.  Her fingers and hands were still tightly encased it the canvas bondage mitts from the Sanatorium, but the cotton-webbing body-harnesss was gone.  Her arms were folded and bound behind her back, her knees bent and each of her ankles lashed to their respective upper thighs, and all of this had been accomplished using multiple strands of thin white paracord.  The much-hated ventilated ball-gag still tightly plugged her drooling mouth and she was still naked, but Jodi's hair had been released from its loose ponytail into a tousled mass of ginger curls.

The Tarantola Twins had done the deed, of course, working in concert with practiced coordination and removing her Sanatorium restraint (except for the aforementioned mittens), and replacing it with the abundance of white cord.  Jodi had tried her best to resist.  She figured this was probably her best opportunity to win a battle against her handlers since she'd arrived at Blissful Beach.  After all, Carla and Liz might be cute (and evil), but they were munchkins.  Unfortunately, Jodi was also a munchkin, and more to the point, it quickly became obvious the twins were competent munchkins, as skilled in the handling of naked guests as their subordinates.

Oh-by-the-way, Jodi was back in her original Blissful Beach Bungalow and writhing on the firm comfort of the mattress of the same king-size bed.  The decor was unchanged, and she noted that her luggage was still missing.  Also, while the twins had used a great many strands of thin white paracord to craft her bondage, their chosen pattern wasn't all that elaborate.  It was also relatively comfortable (as much as Jodi hated to admit it).  The Tarantola Twins really did know their stuff.  Of course, Jodi knew her predicament would grow increasingly unpleasant with time, but at least for now her circulation was unimpeded and none of her anatomy felt numb and/or tingly.

Anyway, with classic callousness, Carla and Liz had abandoned poor Jodi, leaving her to languish in the bungalow on the bed... naked, bound, gagged, and sullenly resentful.  And languish she had, for nearly... a full hour!  It was... horrible.  Okay, it was irritating.  She'd clocked a lot more languishing time in the padded cells down in the Sanatorium.  In any case... it was business as usual at Blissful Beach Spa.  Jodi heaved a gagged sigh, squirmed and twisted on the bed... weakly testing her not-that-elaborate-but-entirely-adequate bonds (with no real expectation of escape)... and languished.

Suddenly―Click!―Jodi heard the bungalow door being unlocked and rolled open.  She rolled onto her side and looked in that direction―"Mrrrk!"―her green eyes popped wide, and she smiled through her gag!

It was Grizzy who had opened the door!  And now she was striding towards the bed!  Yes, Griselda Bruno!  She was resplendent in a skimpy Staff string-bikini with her golden name-tag pinned to her upper right bra-cup.  This particular uniform (what there was of it) was a very pretty shade of lagoon-blue that went well with her tan, smooth, firm skin, and she was just as much the muscular-but-graceful Amazon Princess as ever, and―(a brief but inexplicable thrill quivered between Jodi's legs)―she was smiling.  In fact, she was beaming.

"Mrrrk!"  Grizzy!  Jodi continued her wide-eyed (and smiling) stare as her original Blissful Beach handler stopped at the foot of the bed and crossed her strong arms under her ample breasts.

"I see you're none the worse for wear from your visit to the Sanatorium," Grizzy purred.

Jodi blinked her green eyes several time.  Grizzy also looked "none the worse for wear."  There was no sign of her earlier subterranean flogging ordeal.  Granted, Grizzy's skin had been selectively reddened by the flogger but otherwise unmarred when last Jodi saw her... spreadeagled in a steel frame, naked, bound, gagged, and trundling along an overhead track down in the Sanatorium.  Back in the present, Grizzy's cheeks (the ones on her face) were a little flushed, but Jodi assumed that was probably the aftereffects of a slight sunburn.

Jodi blinked a few more times.  Was her gorgeous amazonian handler... blushing?

Still smiling, the Grizzy half-climbed onto the bed, pulled Jodi's naked, bound, and gagged body to the edge of the mattress, then picked her up and carried her to the bungalow's bathroom alcove.  Grizzy had no difficulty whatsoever handling Jodi's relatively minuscule weight, despite the awkwardness of the tiny ginger's box and frog-tied condition.  She also had zero difficulty balancing Jodi atop the seat of the commode.

Now Jodi was the one that was blushing, and there was no maybe about it!  She knew what was expected of her, and truth be told her bladder was a little on the full side, so... eventually... she managed to relieve herself.  Grizzy continued supporting her as the bowl flushed and―Eeek!―the bidet-function did its thing.  The experience wasn't at all humiliating.

Next, Grizzy carried her to the sink, somehow managed to shift Jodi's gag into ugly-necklace mode, then held her with one arm while she filled a glass with cold water and held it to her guest's lips.

Jodi drank the cold water with gusto... then licked her lips and waited for Grizzy to return the gag to her mouth―but to her surprise, Grizzy returned the acrylic glass to its place beside the sink, did not cram the ventilated black silicon-rubber sphere in her mouth, but instead carried her back to the bed.  Go figure!

Grizzy gently laid Jodi's naked, box-and-frog-tied but not gagged body onto the bed and didn't just toss her onto the mattress.  No bouncing!  Another go figure!  And then... Grizzy herself climbed onto the bed... crawled to Jodi's side (a wicked smile on her gorgeous face), and snuggled close to her blinking, naked, bound, not gagged, and ginger-haired charge.

"Thank you," Jodi said quietly.  She was referencing the trip to the Little Damsel's Room and the drink.  She was also trying (and failing) not to wiggle and shiver in Grizzy's strong, warm, gentle embrace.

"You're welcome," Grizzy purred, then gave Jodi's entire bound body a gentle squeezing hug.

Several seconds ticked by... then Jodi broke the silence.  "Liz flogged you," she noted.  "Why'd she do that?  It was mean."

"The Doctor wanted to gauge your reaction," Grizzy explained, then planted a light kiss on Jodi's freckled forehead.  "She was impressed by your empathy.  I suppose you might say the theatrics gave her permission to decide that while you might be a pest and a snoop, you are not a bad person."  She kissed Jodi's forehead again.  "By the way, that's how we all feel... the entire staff."

"I'm a pest and a snoop?" Jodi demanded.

"Yes, of course," Grizzy chuckled.  "Also, you're not a bad person.  In fact..."  She gave Jodi's bound body another warm hug.  "We held a meeting and took a vote.  It was unanimous.  We like you."

Jodi sighed.  "It was still mean," she groused, "by which I mean all that whipping."  Then, her lips curled in a reluctant smile.  They like me... which is good.  Imagine what they'd do to me if they disliked me.  Her frown returned.  "What about Dominique?"

"Your boss is doing just fine, Jodi," Grizzy purred, "and we'll make very sure she gets her money's worth.  Don't you worry."

"I'm not worried," Jodi muttered (which was a lie).  She didn't think Dominique would fire her, but she supposed she'd have to do some fence-mending once they got back to the magazine.  Jodi's maybe-smile returned,  Or I can subtly suggest that she needs to do some fence-mending with me.  We'll see.

Anyway... the intimate proximity of her giant/gorgeous handler's strong, firm, tan, warm body was giving Jodi something of a shivering problem, and it didn't help when Grizzy used her strong, tan fingers to comb Jodi's tousled ginger locks from her face, then used her gorgeous pale-blue eyes to gaze into Jodi's green eyes.  For want of something better to do (other than shiver) Jodi looked to the side, towards the bungalow's small-but-adequate writing desk and straight chair.  There was no sign of a laptop, either her own or a new one.

"Where's my laptop?" she inquired, trying her best to ignore the fact that Grizzy's left hand was now cupping and delicately squeezing her left breast.

"Still in storage, silly," Grizzy purred.

"No, my new laptop," Jodi clarified, doing her best to ignore Grizzy's boob-compression activities.  "Your giantic blond boss promised she was gonna loan me a laptop."  She continued squirming, wiggling, and shivering.  "...s-so I can s-start writing!"

Still smiling, Grizzy raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"No, honest!" Jodi protested.  "She told ya, didn't she?  She's letting me write my story after all!"

Grizzy's smile was unchanged (and her hand continued squeezing... releasing... and gently squeezing Jodi's boob).

"Grizzy!" Jodi quietly whined, shivering in her bonds (and Grizzy's continuing embrace).  "R-really!  She said I could!  Ask her!  You're supposed to untie me so I can―MRRRF!"  Jodi was interrupted by the arrival of something warm and wet that more-or-less filled her astonished mouth, and it wasn't the ventilated ball-gag!  That was still doing its tacky-costume-jewelry-thing around her neck.  No, crammed in Jodi's startled mouth was Grizzy's tongue!  Her Warrior Princess Handler was kissing her!  And it was a deep, long, wet kiss, and it went on for a considerable amount of time!

At some point Jodi was surprised to discover that she was returning Grizzy's kiss with equal enthusiasm!  Also, her right nipple was now as rigid, tingling, and erect as her left... the one slipping, sliding, and gliding against Grizzy's palm.  Obviously, it wanted in on the action.

This is terrible! Jodi thought, not referring to the ongoing lip-lock (with tongue) or Grizzy's boob-grabbing paw, but to the fact that apparently Dr. Payne hadn't informed her staff of the new arrangement!  And after all my careful and clever negotiation! Jodi fumed.  She wrenched her tongue from Grizzy's mouth and turned her face to the side.  "Stop that!" she ordered.  "I'm trying to think!"

"Thinking is overrated," Grizzy purred, then retaliated by smiling and dragging her tongue up the side of Jodi's neck and face in a long, slow, wet lick!

Jodi, on the other hand, retaliated by shivering in her bonds (and Grizzy's grizzly-bear-like hug) and pouting.  "Stop!" she begged, then asserted her most heart-rending and compelling pout.

"We know all about your revised status," Grizzy chuckled.  "I just came from a staff briefing in which your new schedule was the only thing on the agenda."

Jodi turned her head and glared at her handler.  "Then why did you pretend you didn't know anything about my new laptop?"

Grizzy smiled coyly, then planted a quick kiss on Jodi's petulant lips.  "Because," she purred, "it was fun."  She then extended her tongue and gave Jodi's right ear a warm, wet swirl.

"Ohhh!" Jodi complained as she shivered in... disgust?  Yeah, she decided to go with disgust.  "Will you stop?" she huffed, then decided to take a different tack.  "I'm hungry."

"Hungry?" Grizzy inquired, "as in horny?"  She then started raining light kisses on Jodi's forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, lips, and frowning face in general.

"Grizzy!"  Smooch!  "Grizzy!"  Smooch!  "Stop!"  Smooch!  "I haven't eaten anything"―Smooch!―"since"―Smooch!―all day!  Smooch!  "Stop!"

Grizzy finally relented.  "I'll call and have some fruit salad delivered."  Smooch!  (This time, she'd kissed Jodi's forehead.)  "We're having a big luau down on the beach tonight, and you're the guest of honor."  Smooch!  (The tip of Jodi's button nose.)  "You'll want to be hungry." Smooch!  (Jodi's lips.)  "There's nothing like imu-roasted pig."

"I'm hungry now," Jodi groused... then frowned.  "Emu-roasted-pig?  Is that like turducken?  I've never eaten emu meat, myself... much less emu stuffed in a pig."

Grizzy laughed.  "That's 'imu' the Hawaiian barbecue pit, not 'emu' the flightless bird."  Then, she cocked her head to one side and her brow knitted in thought.  "Umm... imu-emu... whole emus wrapped in banana leaves and roasted in an imu..."  She smiled at Jodi.  "I'll have to suggest that to the kitchen staff."

Jodi blinked, then reasserted her pout.  "I'm hungry now," she reiterated.

"Poor baby," Grizzy teased, then held Jodi even closer, wrapping her legs around Jodi's knees and frog-tied legs and splayed them apart, further exposing her crotch―took Jodi's left breast in a firm grip and squeezed―then reached between Jodi's legs with her free hand and cupped her pussy!

"Grizzy!" whined.  "Mrrrf!"  Grizzy had released Jodi's breast and quickly clamped the hand over Jodi's mouth in a tight hand-gag!

"Hush," Grizzy whispered in Jodi's closest ear... then began slowly, gently stroking Jodi's labia... and clitoris  "You've been upgraded to the Standard Bondage-Erotic package, remember?"  She kissed Jodi ear and continued her massage of her lady-bits.  "There, you see?  I have been briefed on your revised status, just like I told you."

Jodi squirmed, fought her bondage―as well as Grizzy's continuing hug―and moaned through her hand-gag.  "Mrrrrm!"

"One nice... slow... crashing orgasm," Grizzy purred.  "Then we'll take a breather while I place that fruit salad order with room service."

Jodi continued struggling... and shivering.  Her heart was pounding in her ears and her nostrils flaring above Grizzy's hand-gag as she panted for air.  I suppose there's no reason I can't wait to start organizing my tentative story outline, she conceded, and it's not like I have any choice in the matter... or could possibly concentrate on anything work-related at the moment.

Epilogue

---

For the rest of the first day of Jodi's return to the bungalow, Jodi "suffered" many intense and crashing orgasms at the skilled hands (and tongue) of Griselda Bruno.  Jodi would cum―she'd be allowed to take a much needed, all-too-brief, but arguably restorative nap―Grizzy would wake her up and make her cum again―they'd cuddle together for another nap―lather, rinse, repeat.  Thankfully (as Jodi had missed breakfast), at some point what she petulantly insisted was a woefully inadequate bowl of fruit salad was delivered and hand fed to her pouting lips by Grizzy―then it was back to the same ol' orgasmic grind (so to speak).

And speaking of crashing...

There was a storm many miles off shore and the surf was pounding against Blissful Beach during that evening's luau.  Jodi thought it was kinda cool, even though nobody was board-surfing, boogie-boarding, or body-surfing on the breaking waves.

And speaking of the luau...

Jodi was forced to agree: there was nothing as succulent and delicious as imu-roasted pig!  Sooo juicy!  Sooo tender!  Sooo tasty!  It was melt-in-your-mouth-yummy-good!

Also, the luau was obviously a big deal.  The entire Blissful Beach Spa and Sanatorium staffs seemed to be present.  Jodi recognized her black-scrubs-wearing blond Viking and Japanese BG handlers from her, uh, "Sanatorium Experience," although tonight they were wearing bikinis and Aloha-print sarongs like everybody else, except for Jodi and a handful of other naked and bound women she assumed were fellow guests.  She didn't recognize any of the bound nudists―meaning they weren't celebrities, as far as Jodi could tell―but they were all beautiful.  Everybody was beautiful (except Jodi, who was introduced to partygoers she didn't already know as "Grizzy's cute little ginger."  It was humiliating... in a complimentary sort of way).

However, when Jodi was led to the buffet and watched as Grizzy loaded a plate for them to share, she belatedly discovered that there was a celebrity guest present, namely... Dominique DeFossé!

Unfortunately, Jodi's boss didn't seem to be enjoying the party, probably because she was naked, stringently ball-tied, and balanced on her knees atop a large silver serving tray on a bed of banana leaves and garnished with flowers and fruit!  Her bonds were a neatly hitched lattice of hemp cord, her smooth, flawless, firm skin glistened with oil (or possibly butter), and her gaping mouth was plugged by either a Red Delicious apple or a silicon-rubber sphere made to look like a Red Delicious apple.  Also, Dominique's dark-brown hair was plaited in a single tight braid and its end tied back to her other bonds, lifting her drooling chin, pulling her head back, and immobilizing her apple-gagged head!

(Grizzy whispered in Jodi's ear and explained that Dominique's gobstopper was a large, roughly egg-shaped combination tongue-suppressor and bite-protector of red silicon-rubber with the protruding end cunningly and realistically painted to mimic an apple.  Also, the gag's retaining strap was a narrow strip of skin-tone latex selected to match Dominique's complexion.)

And oh-by-the-way, Dominique and her tray were one station down from the culinary guest of honor: the imu-roasted whole pig in all of its carved, shredded, and rapidly-disappearing-onto-plates glory.  Obviously, it was a joke, meaning the implication that Dominique was next on the menu!  And while Jodi thought it was very funny, she carefully concealed her amusement and resolved to never mention tonight's luau in her boss's presence, never ever!  Fortunately, Dominique was busy suffering and seemed to be oblivious to Jodi's presence, which Jodi considered a good thing... meaning her going unnoticed... not Dominique's suffering.

And oh-by-the-way, if Liz Tarantola and/or her staff had done anything special with respect to Dominique's pierced nipples, Jodi couldn't tell.  Most of her boss's boobs were squashed against her thighs and her nipple-regions were out of sight.  Oh well.

On the beverage front, there were plenty of rum-based cocktails served in either tiki-shaped acrylic tumblers or hollowed out whole fruit, and sharing the buffet table were all the usual Hawaiian/tropical side dishes, perfect complements for lots and lots of moist, tender, yummy pork!  Jodi managed to eat her fill (meaning she was fed her fill by Grizzy) and got only a little smashed.

Also, Jodi thought the stately Hawaiian hula-dancing, interspersed with much more energetic Tahitian dancing, was very entertaining and/or culturally uplifting (and the amount of alcohol she was consuming had nothing to do with it).  Also, the ukulele was a truly entrancing and/or spellbinding instrument!  Who knew?

It was a luau to be remembered.

The next week settled into a routine of exercise, swimming, bondage, and boinking.  Jodi had a really good time, although the promised laptop still hadn't been delivered and Grizzy refused to let her start writing her story, not even on paper!  Despite the "good times," Jodi was grumpy and sullen, a regular party-pooper.  Unfortunately, Grizzy and her fellow spa staff-members refused to be fooled by her surly demeanor and let the party be pooped... so to speak.  Regular orgasm extraction continued, as did elaborate and creative bondage predicaments that were arguably cruel and unusual but ultimately harmless.  Jodi had no choice but to stoically suffer, take extensive mental notes for her story, and not let Grizzy realize that she was actually enjoying a uniquely entertaining vacation!

Bondage could be fun?  Who knew?  Certainly not Jodi McJoy!  After all, she had real-world experience with authentic damsel-in-distress situations!  They were never fun.  Go figure.

And then... the proverbial journalistic dam broke!  The laptop was delivered and Jodi was given half-days off from her bondage and boinking routine to begin writing (naked and locked in her bungalow, but neither bound nor gagged).  Also, Grizzy started taking Jodi for walkies (like a damn pooch) wherever she asked (naked, bound, and usually gagged) so she could conduct her research.

As it turned out, there were celebrity guests at Blissful Beach, and some of them quite famous!  All of them were absolutely gorgeous (of course), and all of them were kept naked, bound, and gagged in various ways!  Among them were― [ CELEBRITY NAMES REDACTED ] ―all of whom are quite famous, of course; however, Jodi wasn't allowed to interview any of them; and she could tell that to the celebs their meetings were nothing more than a chance encounter with one more naked, bound, gagged, but non-celebrity fellow-guest being dragged by Grizzy to some undisclosed and no doubt entertainingly horrific/melodramatic fate.

In any case, the famous guests all made it into Jodi's eventual article, but anonymously, and without disclosing even a hint of their true identities.  And believe it or not, Jodi decided she didn't really mind working within Dr. Payne's restrictive editorial guidelines.  It let her play up the titillation factor without doing damage to any reputations and/or burning bridges that might lead to future interviews and articles.

Also, as it turned out, Blissful Beach did have a gift shop, and it was a very nice gift shop.  Jodi arranged to have a couple of tasteful t-shirts and a nifty coffee mug gift-wrapped and packed away in her luggage... on Dominique's tab, of course.

Finally, after an additional three weeks (she took her time with the writing), Jodi completed her article, it was edited and approved by The Doctor, and it was time to say goodbye to Grizzy and return to the drudgery of Jodi's non-Hawaiian, non-bondage filled, fully-clothed career as an Intrepid Investigative Reporter.

The farewells were shamefully tearful, at least on Jodi's part.  Grizzy did not cry.  She was too much of a stoic Amazon Princess to cry (although she did seem to have a little pollen or some other allergen stinging her eyes).  Anyway... Jodi said goodbye to Grizzy and other select members of the staff, including the Tarantola Twins―who had caused quite a stir among the staff about a week earlier by suddenly appearing sporting identical pixie haircuts!  She also bid farewell to Dr. Payne, and Jodi was smart enough to hide her true feelings about Carla, Liz, and The Doctor until she was safely on the chopper and heading for Honolulu International Airport.

Yes, it happened!  Jodi was on a luxury business helicopter and on her way back to the mainland!  She was wearing a very smart tropical weight business suit (a gift from Blissful Beach) and gazing through the window as the resort and its island disappeared into the distance.  Anyway...  Clothing!  What a concept!

And squirming in her equally luxurious seat next to Jodi was... Dominique DeFossé, wearing the same royal-blue skirt-dress she'd worn back in Dr. Payne's office... before she was ordered to strip and stuff her own panties in her mouth to begin her half of their Blissful Beach and Sanatorium vacation saga.  Jodi couldn't tell if her boss was wearing any tit-jewelry... either her exquisite diamond-studded posts, the wicked-cool chain-connected-rings-and-spiral-wire-nipple-cones, or something else.  Jodi surreptitiously looked, but there were no telltale bumps or bulges in the boobular region of Dominique's pretty blue dress.

Also, Jodi noted that in general her boss appeared to be none the worse for wear.  Dominique's long, somewhat wavy, sleek, dark-brown hair framed her beautiful face as usual, and there were no rope-marks marring her exposed skin, including her wrists.  She was not smiling, but seemed to be more embarrassed than angry.  Also... she was blushing.

Jodi carefully suppressed the smile struggling to curl her lips, opened her mouth to say something harmless, pleasant, and in no way condescending or judgmental; but before she could―
 
"Not a word," Dominique warned (still blushing).  There were several seconds of uncomfortable silence... then Dominique heaved a tragic sigh.  "We'll talk later... back at the office."

"Uh, okay," Jodi responded, turned back to the window... and her smile fully emerged.

Down below, a white mega-yacht was plowing through the swells of the Hawaiian Channel, apparently on a direct heading for Blissful Beach.  Jodi wondered what gorgeous actress or wealthy ingenue was on her way to enjoy a unique and discrete luxury vacation experience.

◄

Chapter 9

☻

Send feedback to the author