From the Many Thrilling Adventures of Jodi McJoy!
		by Van ©2024
		Chapter 1

OUR STORY BEGINS

Paige Turco as... Peggy Gibson

Betty Gilpin as... Bethany Gibson

The mother and daughter dynamic duo of Peggy and Bethany Gibson (referred to as "Those Gibson Girls" by their more waggish friends) are an undeniable force of nature, individually and as a team.

The Gibsons are wealthy, in the sense that the Pacific Ocean is a saltwater lake and the Himalayas are a large pile of rocks.  They own several truly magnificent properties, as well as the usual amenities of extreme wealth: a mega-yacht the size of a small destroyer, several private jets, a fleet of luxury sedans, SUVs, vans, and mini-buses, etc., etc.  They were seriously considering commissioning a private ultra-modern zeppelin, but decided that at present the technology was in need of development.

And beautiful?  With the help of their personal trainer Those Gibson Girls keep themselves in tip-top shape, they have gleaming brown hair, pretty brown eyes, even features, flawless complexions, well-tanned skins, and curvaceous bodies...  Attractive?  Peggy and Bethany are absolutely gorgeous!

To be clear, the mother is in her late 50's and has a mature beauty, whereas the daughter is in her 30-something prime, but it's undeniable: Those Gibson Girls are lookers.

If they so desired, the Gibsons could easily be world famous, grace the covers of magazines, appear on talk shows on a regular basis, and have their every move followed by the public—but who wants to live in a fishbowl with paparazzi constantly underfoot and every detail of their private lives under close scrutiny?  Peggy and Bethany were smart enough to cultivate low profiles.

And speaking of smart, the duo hire only the best talent to manage the details of their business empire while reserving "The Big Decisions" for themselves.  Therefore, as an added and fully intentional side-benefit, Those Gibson Girls have the time and energy to plan and execute various Special Projects (aka "hobby activities"), many of which the public might consider unconventional, eccentric, and even a little kinky (as well as borderline illegal). That was another reason Peggy and Bethany tended to avoid the limelight.

At the moment they were in New York City and relaxing in their large, luxurious, and exquisitely decorated penthouse atop a towering Gothic Revival edifice overlooking Central Park.  They'd already dined and had retired to a drawing room to sip an exquisite port from the Compostela region of Northern Portugal.  It was delicious... and it wasn't all that they were enjoying.

The view of the New York skyline and the park below was magnificent as the sky darkened and the clouds turned from gold... to orange... to crimson.  It should be.  They'd paid enough for it.

Also magnificent was the view at Peggy and Bethany's bare feet.

Samantha Cormier as... Sloane Williams

Sloane Williams is the Gibson's personal maid.  She travels with her employers from residence to residence, and at the moment the twenty-something red-haired beauty was dressed the part in a modern maid's uniform: a black, close-fitting, short-sleeve dress that came to her mid-thighs and had a plunging neckline lined with white lace.  There was the traditional white apron, but no frilly white cap.  Truth be told, remove the apron and lace collar-trim and the "uniform" could easily be taken for a stylish pencil dress.

As for Sloane's shoes, they were a pair of black pumps with low heels of a stylish design suitable as work-wear.  At the moment, however, they'd been removed and were side-by-side off to the side, leaving her black pantyhose-clad feet otherwise bare.  Her long hair was loose, framing her very, very pretty face.  Sloane was a classic redhead with the prerequisite copper-red hair, green eyes, freckles, and peachy-pink complexion.

In contrast to their maid, Those Gibson Girls were wearing the same hideously expensive, stylish, and comfortable tailored business ensembles they'd worn the entire day (not counting their workout periods); however, they'd kicked off their high-heel pumps custom made in Milan and the hideously expensive footwear were in a jumble near Sloan's merely expensive footwear.

Oh-by-the-way, Sloane-the-pretty-young-maid was thoroughly bound and gagged!

Specifically, Sloane had been hogtied with conditioned, six-millimeter, three-strand-braided, hemp rope.  She was on her stomach on the plush and very tasteful carpet, her wrists crossed and lashed together behind her back, her knees bent, her ankles crossed and lashed together, and her wrists lashed to her ankles with her nylon-clad heels resting in her hands.  In addition, a simple rope harness yoked her shoulders, was cinched around her torso above and below her breasts, then linked to the nexus of her wrist-ankle-hogtie-bonds.  All possible slack had been removed, pulling her body into a stringent bow and leaving her balanced on her taut tummy!

As for the pretty ginger maid's gag, it was of the ball variety with a mouth-plug of black silicon rubber, a brown leather strap, and bronze-finished hardware.

Poor Sweet Helpless Sloane wiggled, squirmed, rocked back and forth, groped with her fingers, twisted her feet, and made a show of thoroughly testing her bonds.  She did not test the ball-gag.  There was no point and it might have detracted from her employers' enjoyment as they watched her struggle.

So...  Peggy and Bethany sipped their sherry and alternated between gazing at the magnificent sunset through the sitting room's expanse of large windows... and smiling down at their petite, exceptionally attractive, and helpless maid.

Minutes passed...

Then, suddenly, an attractive blonde in her forties accompanied by an equably attractive and possibly slightly younger redhead intruded on Those Gibson Girls' (and Sloane's) solitude,

Deborah Unger as... Ms. Pendergast

Laura Prepon as... Lisa Packshaw

The blonde in question was Ms. Pendergast.  She has a first name, of course, but to the Gibsons and everyone in their orbit she was "Ms. Pendergast."  The 40-something beauty was the majordomo of all of Peggy and Bethany's estates (and therefore the hogtied Sloane's immediate supervisor).  She was sometimes referred to as "Ms. P" by the others, but never in her hearing.  Like Sloane, she traveled with the the family from residence to residence.  Ms. Pendergast was also the Gibsons' fitness trainer and martial arts sensi.  Therefore, and not surprisingly, she was in exquisite and very curvaceous shape.  In fact, Ms. P was unarguably beautiful, with tan skin, even features, and strikingly attractive and intelligent blue eyes.

The slightly younger redhead at Ms. P's side was also fit, curvaceous, and beautiful.  Her name was Lisa Packshaw and her complexion was peachy-pink (like Sloane's) but appeared to be much less prone to freckles (unlike Sloane).  Her straight copper-red hair touched her shoulders, framing her smiling and quite attractive face.  Remarkably, Lisa seemed not at all surprised (and quite amused) by her fellow ginger's bound and gagged condition.

So... Lisa Packshaw?  People often found her name somehow familiar... maybe.  She'd acted minor roles in a handful of movies and might be recognized on that basis, but these days her principal claim to semi-anonymous fame was as an entertainment industry insider and influencer/consultant. 

Oh, that Lisa Packshaw!

She acted as an "informal" go-between for production companies, studios, and financial backers.  As such she wielded no real power, other than as a mediator of possible creative projects and partnerships.  Noted for her charm, business acumen, and political savvy (and above all her discretion), Lisa Packshaw was a mover and a shaker.  That said, her behind-the-scene roles went virtually unnoticed by the general public.

Peggy smiled at Lisa.  "Greetings.  I assume you have something for me?"  She gestured to an nearby armchair—"Take a load off."—then focused on Ms. Pendergast.  "Please pour our guest a sherry."

"No," Ms. Pendergast responded (surprisingly).  "Admitting late visitors and dispensing after-dinner libations are not in my job description."  She pointed to Sloane with an imperious finger while focusing her fierce blue eyes on Bethany.  "This is your doing, isn't it?  I can tell by the adequate but less than ideal knot placement."

Bethany gasped.  "That's not fair, Sensi," she objected.  "This is a play session.  You know that I know how to properly secure a damsel in non-recreational circumstances.  I have the very best teacher."

Ms. Pendergast rolled her blue eyes.  "Flattery will get you nowhere."  She shifted her intense gaze to Peggy.  "Back on the topic of service, I'll answer the doorbell in an emergency because your daughter has hogtied the maid and she is therefore unavailable, but as she's the one responsible for Sloane being unable to properly perform her duties, she can pour the drinks."  With that, Ms. P spun on her heels and regally departed the sitting room.

Those Gibson Girls watched her go with tolerant smiles.  They were used to Ms. Packshaw defending her prerogatives and knew they had no more loyal and diligent employee than their majordomo.  (Sloane came close but lacked Ms. P's seniority.)

Lisa Packshaw smiled as well.  This was neither her first time visiting a Gibson residence nor her first encounter with their majordomo (nor her first exposure to their rope related "hobby").

Meanwhile, down on the floor, Sloane had redoubled her efforts to escape... and remarkably... her squirming efforts were meeting with immediate success!

Peggy, Bethany, and Lisa smiled and watched Sloane's escapology demonstration (although Bethany's eyebrows were raised in mild surprise and hers was a pouting smile).

After only a few seconds of wiggling effort... the ropes enforcing Sloane's hogtie abruptly loosened and she straightened her legs.  Her wrist-bonds melted away as well.  She then sat up, untied her ankles... untied her simple upper-body-harness... then gracefully climbed to her black-nylon-clad feet and unbuckled and removed her ball-gag.  It emerged from her pretty mouth with an audible pop! 

Next, the not bound and gagged maid reached for the ceiling in a full-body-stretch—"Eeeyah!"—straightened her uniform, strolled to the sideboard, and poured port from a decanter into an appropriately tiny stemmed glass.  She then padded to Lisa, smiled, and handed the dessert wine to Those Gibson Girls' guest.

"Thank you, Sloane," Lisa grinned, then took an appreciative sip.

Sloane smiled, dropped a curtsy, then returned to the scene of Bethany's highly credible but ultimately failed attempt to render her bound, gagged, and helpless.  The comely ginger quickly, deftly, and neatly coiled the lengths of hemp rope, securing each with a tight hitch, retrieved the ball-gag, padded over and deposited the bondage materials on a convenient sideboard, then entered into hovering-and-ready-to-serve-mode.  Her pretty lips were slightly curled, but she very much did not smile at Bethany.  They were both Ms. Pendergast's students (as was Peggy) and there was no shame in her triumphing over Bethany's rigging skills.  Not really.  In any case, it was not her place as either student or maid to gloat.

"You made your inquiries?" Peggy asked Lisa.

"Yes," Lisa nodded, "and they were successful."  She paused for another sip of the smoky amber port.  "If you still insist on having an embedded journalist document this endeavor, you may proceed with the 'recruitment' of Jodi McJoy."

Peggy's smile broadened as she lifted a book from the side-table to her left.  It was a copy of Jodi McJoy's recent bestseller Luxury Languishing, an account of her supposedly real life visit to a posh tropical island resort that "entertained" its "celebrity guests" through the liberal application of tight bondage and erotic hanky-panky, including restrained massage!  The precise location of the sumptuous but decidedly kinky spa in question was very carefully not divulged, nor were the identities of the spa's supposedly famous clients revealed.  Nonetheless, the book was causing quite a stir.

Fiction or non-fiction, Jodi's tale was a very pleasurable read.  Some critics sneered that despite her claims she'd made the whole thing up, but nobody really cared.  If it was fiction, it was good fiction, and if it was non-fiction, as Jodi claimed, it was... intriguing.  Sales were brisk and Luxury Languishing was an unqualified (albeit slightly scandalous) success.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: See Blissful Beach Spa & Sanatorium (story #72) for the juicy details.]  😉

Peggy opened the book to the back cover, gazed at the photo of the author above her biography on the inside flap of the dust cover, and continued smiling.

"She's a cute little thing," Lisa observed, stating the obvious.

Peggy nodded.  "If you like saucy gingers with green eyes and quirky smiles"  She then closed the book and focused on her visitor (who also a saucy ginger with green eyes and a quirky smile).  "Well?  It's safe?"

Bethany listened with keen interest, as did Sloane (surreptitiously).

Basking in the attention Lisa smiled and sipped her port before answering.

"I have it on the highest authority," the grinning ginger said finally, "that Jodi McJoy is currently between assignments and I'm assured there will be no serious inquiries concerning her whereabouts or what she's up to, not for quite some time."

Bethany produced her iPhone, then focused on her mother.  Peggy nodded, Bethany smiled, sent a brief text message, and pocketed the phone.  She then retrieved her glass, took a sip, and nodded to her mother.  "Our project is underway... at last."

"At last," Peggy agreed.

Sloane's smile was unchanged.  It was not the maid's place to comment on her mistress' affairs without being asked.

Still grinning, Lisa set her glass on the side-table next to her chair.  "So... what now?  Do you want me to finalize the next contact?"

Peggy and Bethany locked eyes, smiled, then shifted their smile to Sloane... who curtsied, quietly strolled to the sideboard, picked up her former ball-gag, and slid it into her apron pocket.  (This was carefully ignored by her employers and went unnoticed by their guest.)

"Not tonight," Peggy said to Lisa.  "Let's let the first operation unfold, then think about the next."

"The timeline is well established," Bethany added, "with programmed holds to incorporate lessons learned and fold in new developments."

"Yes, of course," Lisa responded, "but would you at least like to discuss my role in the next—MRRMPFH!"

Taking Lisa by total surprise (and to the evident amusement of Those Gibson Girls), Sloane had crept close, popped the ball-gag into her fellow ginger's startled mouth, then deftly buckled its strap tight and secure at the nape of her Lisa's neck and under her hair, more-or-less in one continuous motion!

"Not tonight," Peggy reiterated.

Smiling serenely, mother and daughter continued watching from their comfy chairs as Sloane dragged their guest from her comfy chair, forced her onto her stomach on the plush carpet, pulled her hands behind her back, crossed her wrists, then quickly and deftly tied them together!  They weren't at all surprised that their tiny maid was able to overpower their much taller guest.  When it came to "bondage wrestling" Sloan was a fierce opponent, as well as a skilled rigger.

"Mrrrfh!"  It was quite clear that Lisa was not happy!  "Nrmpfh!"  She struggling furiously—"Mrrrrrm!"—but to no avail.

Next, adroitly controlling Lisa's squirming body with practiced ease, Sloane unbuttoned, unzipped, and peeled Lisa out of her clothing, all of her clothing!  More and more of Lisa's smooth, firm, peachy-pink skin was exposed during the process!

"Mpfrmmm!"

"Do you want help?" Bethany inquired.

Sloane smiled and her green eyes flashed as she continued concentrating on the task at hand.  "Get your own!"

Those Gibson Girls laughed.  Normally, the petite maid was the very picture of a well trained and totally dedicated body servant, but both the adorable ginger servant and her brunette employers were disciples of the same sensi.  Under the current circumstances, Peggy, Bethany, and Sloane were comrades and peers.

The struggle continued, but the issue was never in doubt.  Lisa might be an athletic 5' 10" and the cute little maid a mere 5' 2"—Lisa might have twenty more years experience in the ways of the world than nubile young Sloane—but the petite domestic was an advanced student of Sensi Pendergast's unique blend of Aikido and Hojōjutsu.  Totally untrained, Lisa Packshaw never stood a chance.

Those Gibson Girls finished their ports... and weren't even halfway through their second glasses by the time it was all over.

Lisa was naked—completely naked—and hogtied in much the same manner that Bethany had hogtied Sloane before Lisa's arrival, only this time the key knots, the ones that had to be defeated for Lisa to escape her bonds, were placed well beyond the reach of her fluttering fingers and groping hands.  Also—"Mrrrf!"—she was still ball-gagged, still struggling furiously, and manifestly unhappy and terrified (or at least doing a credible job of pretending to be terrified).  "Mrrrrrm!"

Sloane neatly folded Lisa's no-longer-required expensive and tasteful clothing—skirt, sweater-blouse, jacket, and underwear—and placed Lisa's pair of sexy but sensible heeled pumps atop the stack.  The maid then stepped into her own shoes, curtsied to her employers, and took Lisa's ensemble away to be cleaned, laundered, and/or polished.

Lisa-the-involuntary-nudist continued squirming, writhing, and doing her inadequate best to escape.

"Mrrrpfh!"

Those Gibson girls continued sipping their tiny glasses of dark, delicious sherry... and watched the show.

"Nrmfh!"

Finally, after four or five minutes of vigorous effort... Lisa stopped struggling and heaved a ball-gagged sigh.  She then batted her green eyes at her hostesses and whined.  "Mhrrrrr!"

"Oh, please," Peggy chuckled, rolling her eyes, "as if you aren't enjoying yourself."

"Mother?" Bethany inquired.

Peggy's smile widened.  "No, you may not take Ms. Packshaw to bed with you.

Bethany pouted and heaved a disappointed sigh... then resumed smiling and nodded at the chess set on the gaming table across the room.  "Play you for her?"

"No," Peggy reiterated as she shook her head.  "Like Sloane said: get your own."

Bethany sighed, sipped the last of her port... then wished her mother a goodnight and kissed her on the cheek.  She received a goodnight wish and kiss of her own, of course, then made her exit.

Peggy smiled and watched her daughter depart, then shifted her focus to the naked, bound, and gagged ginger on the carpet.

"Don't worry about my Beth," Peggy said.  "She's probably going to find Sloane."  She paused to sip the last of her sherry.  "You can never be sure with those two who will wind up on top on any given occasion... unlike you and me."  She gracefully rose from her chair, stepped into her Italian heels, and strolled towards the sitting room door.  "I'm going to check my e-mail queue.  Afterwards, I'll return and take you to my bed.  'Til them!"  And with that... she was gone.

Lisa heaved another sigh and settled in to wait.  There was no use trying to escape.  Sloane knew her knots... and where to put them.