From the Many Thrilling Adventures of Jodi McJoy!
		by Van ©2024
		Chapter 4

The pretty brunette maid with the Snow White complexion and Lulu-bob dragged (led) Jodi through the elegantly appointed penthouse to an elevator, dragged (led) her inside, and pressed a button on the vertical panel to the right of the door.

Jodi noted there were only five buttons on the control panel, none of which were labeled "Lobby," "Ground," or "Escape."  Based on this evidence she surmised The Gibson Gazillionaires' penthouse comprised at least five floors and she was riding in an elevator that couldn't and wouldn't take her down to the street even if she'd been the one allowed to press the button of her choice.  The building had to have elevators that vertically traveled its full height from top to bottom, and service elevators as well, but this one was a strictly intra-penthouse people-mover.

In any case (now that Jodi thought about it), she was very reluctant to arrive at the building's public lobby naked, her wrists crossed and bound behind her back with white paracord, the hated shock-collar (or its twin) locked around her neck, and her lips sealed with a generous strip of off-white medical tape!  Also, her ginger hair was badly in need of grooming.  It was a tousled mess.  So... maybe it was just as well... for now.  Maybe she'd be willing to endure that degree of public humiliation later, when she was more desperate to escape The Gibson Gazillionaires' luxurious captivity.

The descent ended, the usual melodious chime sounded—"Ding!"—and the elevator door opened.  Jodi's leash snapped taut and Lulu-maid (Jodi had decided to dub her current handler "Lulu-maid") led her down another hallway to a pair of double doors.  Jodi noted her surroundings had the same expensive but understated ambiance as the top floor of the penthouse.  This was not a service area.

The maid opened one of the double doors, un-clipped the leash from the ring in the front of Jodi's shock-collar, smiled her adorable smile, then gave Jodi a shove into the space beyond and closed the door behind her—Thud!—all without saying a word.

Jodi blinked her green eyes and tugged on her bound wrists as she looked around.  She was in what was obviously a gymnasium.  It was the size of your typical High School gym (only without the bleachers), and had a very high ceiling (suitable for basketball or volleyball, although there were no hoops or nets in sight).  Also, it was divided into three distinct rectangular areas, all with padded floors and defined by a grid of rubber-clad walkways.  Specifically, Jodi could see...

(1.)  An area with state-of-the-art exercise machines, including stationary bikes, treadmill-style running machines, step machines, rowing machines, etc.

(2.)  A weightlifting area with benches, racks of weights, sturdy frames supporting horizontal bars suitable for pull-ups and inverted sit-ups, as well as a full array of resistance machines.

(3.)  A large open area twice the size of the other two and without any equipment or obstructions of any kind, and this third area was occupied... very occupied.

Green eyes wide above her tape-gag, Jodi watched as a small crowd of naked women grappled and tossed each other around, throwing their opponents to the padded floor (or being thrown), then recovering, bowing to each other, and grappling again!  It was some sort of martial arts dojo (Jodi thought they were called "dojos") only everybody was wearing their birthday suits instead of some variant of the loose, heavy cotton pajamas with web belts required by most martial art disciplines.

The combatants were all in their twenties or thirties, all were in exquisite shape, and were quite obviously anything but novices in the art of... throwing each other around.  Virtually every hair-color and skin-tone found on the planet was represented.  There were Asians, Europeans, Africans, Indians (Southwest Asia Indians)... members of just about every recognized race (geographic sub-population), and blending thereof.  It reminded Jodi of the staff at Blissful Beach Spa... only without the bikinis and sarongs and with only one beauty who was probably an actual Polynesian.

Also, there were boobs, some conical and some more round—nipples, some pointy and some rounded and not-so-pointy—and a veritable grove of luxuriant pubic shrubbery!  Also, flat tummies, strong limbs, and bobbing and swaying hair—all on beautiful women who were gripping, twisting, falling and rolling, or releasing and recovering for the next round.  It was... interesting.

As Jodi watched the show and listed to the grunts and thuds of bodies landing on the gigantic mat, it occurred to her that they might all be Gibson maids.  They were certainly pretty enough to meet the Gazillionaires' apparent employment standards), but nobody was in uniform.  For all Jodi knew they were cooks, accountants, secretaries, helicopter pilots... whatever.  They all moved with the athletic grace of dancers, acrobats, or... martial artists.

However, one of the group of naked grapplers was different for two reasons.  Firstly, she wasn't grappling with anybody.  She was in charge.  Everybody was bowing to each other, but especially to her, and she was moving from pair to pair, making quiet comments, correcting their stances, quickly and fluidly demonstrating proper techniques, etc.  Secondly, she was a decade or two older that the grapplers.  She was a blonde, one of... Jodi made a quick count... seven, blondes (although one of the seven might be best described as a light-brunette).  She had an exquisite all-over tan and was just as graceful, athletic, and hot as all the rest.  Put her in armor and give her a shield and sword or ax and she'd be a Viking Queen.

She's the sensi, Jodi realized.  Also, she (the sensi) had stopped and was staring at her (Jodi)!

The sensi gestured to one of the naked combatants, a ginger that Jodi belatedly realized was Sloane!

Sloane exchanged a bow with her current opponent, scampered to her teacher, bowed... then engaged in a quiet discussion with her flaxen-haired elder as Jodi blinked and watched.  Then, they stopped talking and gazed across the room at Jodi!

Gulp!

And now they were purposefully padding in her direction!

Jodi considered trying to open the double doors behind her, but knew that if she tried to flee she'd lose a footrace with Sloane and/or her sensi (or Lulu-maid, who might still be lurking in the vicinity for all she knew).  So, instead, Jodi panted through her tape-gag, listened to her heart thump, and waited (nervously) for the smiling maid and her sensi to arrive.

"So this is Jodi McJoy," the blonde sensi said to her ginger student as they drew near, looking Jodi up and down from her pink toes to the top of her tousled ginger hair.

"Yes, Sensi," Sloane replied, bowing her head respectfully.

Jodi blinked her green eyes.  "Sensi" was a remarkable woman.  As she'd already noted, the 40-something beauty's skin was smooth, with a deep, uniform tan.  She had excellent muscle tone and definition (for any age), exquisite breasts (with minimal sag), pale blue eyes, even features with high cheekbones, and long flaxen curls pulled back in a severe ponytail.

"My name is Ms. Pendergast," the sensi intoned.  "Part of my responsibilities include ensuring that all Gibson employees are in excellent condition and exercise on a regular basis.  That includes you, Ms. McJoy, and if you fail to cooperate... you will be punished.  Do you understand?"

Not really, Jodi thought, but nodded in agreement anyway.  It seemed like the prudent thing to do.

"The running machine, Sensi?" Sloane suggested.

"She appears to be in decent shape," Ms. Pendergast conceded, still visually examining the overtly nervous Jodi.  "Running is as good a place to start as any.  Install her, Extended Program Three, then rejoin the class."  Then, she exchanged a bow with Sloane, spun on her bare heels, and padded away towards the class, giving Jodi an excellent view of her strong back, firm butt, and shapely legs.

Sloane watched her teacher depart, then turned to Jodi, smiled (evilly), took a generous fistful of Jodi's tousled hair—"Mrk-Urk!"—and dragged her towards the exercise machines area.

'Install' me? Jodi wondered, also... Ow!

Aja Warren as... Abby Anders

Abigail Anders ("Abby" to her friends) was pumped!  She'd received an email from Maggie Malloy that she should join her for a meet-and-greet with an unnamed producer, and at the meeting would be... wait for it... Lisa Packshaw!

Maggie had played Abby's little sister in a somewhat forgettable movie early in their careers (seven whole years ago).  They'd both been teenagers, had bonded on set, were great friends, and had kept in touch ever since... or tried to, anyway.  And everybody knew about Lisa Packshaw!  Abby had never met the "industry insider," but it was a given that getting Packshaw on your side meant a lot!  This was a big opportunity, or could be.  Fingers crossed!

Dressed in her finest urban ingenue outfit, Abby was following the map app on her iPhone to the address specified in Maggy's email: Boseong Garden, an eatery in Manhattan's "Koreatown" neighborhood.  Abby had never been to the place, but after a quick search was pleased to learn it had a highly favorable Yelp rating.

As she strolled down the street Abby was turning a lot of heads, but given her unarguably stunningly good looks—(long, straight, ginger hair—striking green eyes—symmetrical, classically beautiful, lightly freckled features—and slender, fit, curvaceous figure)—it wasn't a novel experience.  Abby was used to it.

Abby arrived at the restaurant and pocketed her phone.  Boseong Garden was best described as... quaint?  It certainly wasn't what one could call a high-end establishment, nor was it especially large; however, it had quite obviously been in operation for a long time in a neighborhood full of similar establishments.  That meant, as Yelp suggested, the food was good, an impression reinforced when Abby opened the front door to find most of the tables full, the waitstaff bustling around with trays laden with steaming bowls, and mouthwatering aromas permeating the air.

"May I help you?" the receptionist asked, smiling brightly.  She was in her twenties, about Abby's age, was Asian (either Korean or Japanese, in Abby's opinion), and spoke American English without a trace of accent.  Also, she was devilishly cute, with an infectious smile and straight black hair cut in a charming pageboy with bangs.  The name tag on her very pretty silk cheongsam-style dress read "Hae."

Abby returned Hae's smile.  "I'm meeting my friend, Maggie Malloy," she explained, "although I don't know if the reservation is in her name."

Hae's smile widened.  "Your party is in one of our private rooms."  She made an elegant gesture.  "Please follow me," she added, then led the way to the back of the restaurant.

Abby followed, noting that only about half the diners were Asian and the others didn't look like typical NYC tourists... and the food in front of them looked delicious.  Abby's stomach grumbled.  Even if Maggie's 'big deal' falls apart, she thought, at least I'm gonna get a yummy meal.

They passed through a pair of hanging drapes and into a long, straight corridor that led to a second pair of closed drapes.  Hae parted these drapes as well, opened the door immediately beyond, and with a graceful bow and gesture indicated Abby should precede her.

Abby crossed the threshold... and paused.  She was in a rather small room with neither Maggie nor anyone else present.  The expected table and chairs was also missing, and all four walls were lined with more drapes; however, something was waiting in the center of the room: a wheeled packing case, the kind she was familiar with from TV and movie sets.
 
Abby stared at the case and blinked in surprise.  Obviously, Hae had made some kind of mistake.  This had to be the wrong place.  She started to turn—"Mrrrpf!"—and the drapes fluttered and she was grabbed from behind, something rubbery and round was crammed into her mouth, and its attached strap buckled tight at the nape of her neck under her hair!  "Mmmpfh!"

Her attackers were at least three big, strong, and obviously well-trained men, all dressed in black, denim, or dark gray and with their features hidden behind black ski-masks!  And now they were stripping off Abby's clothing—"Nrmmm!—all of her clothing, and using plastic cable-ties—"Mmmmmmf!"—or rather plasti-cuffs, the kind the police used, to bind her wrists, elbows, and thumbs together behind her back—"Nrrrrr!—and her legs together at her knees, ankles, and big toes!  Finally, one of them used a pair of steel clippers to snip off the free ends of all the plasti-cufs.

Abby had struggled for all she was worth during the process, but to no avail.  Her captors seemed to anticipate her every move and were easily up to the task of countering her moves and even turning them against her!  The gagging, stripping, and binding happened almost as quickly as it would have if she'd been actively cooperating!

"Mmmmrf!"

One of her abductors held Abby's head steady while another plastered a strip of some sort of medical tape over her ball-gag-stuffed mouth and most of her lower face... then smoothed it with his gloved hands.

"Nrrrm!"

While all this was happening, Hae had quickly stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and was smiling and watching.  Once the tape-gag was in place, the kidnapper holding Abby's head steady continued doing so while Hae pulled a hypodermic syringe from a pocket in her cheongsam and removed the protective plastic cap from the needle.  She squinted (still smiling) as she tapped the syringe to remove air bubbles and deftly, expertly prepared it for use!

Abby tried to object and shake her head—"NRRR!"—but the kidnappers' grips on her head and upper body were too strong.

"You're quite the ginger-haired wildcat, Ms. Anders" Hae observed as she stepped forward, syringe at the ready.

"Mrrrm!" Abby responded, and noted that Hae knew her name.  This was not a random kidnapping!

"Time for a nice nap," Hae purred as, with medically trained skill, she injected whatever was in the syringe into the side of Abby's stretched and immobilized neck!

Then, the kidnappers lifted Abby into the now open case, positioned her into a fetal tuck, and closed the lid.  Thud!

Inside the pitch-black case Abby listened to the lid's pair of latches being secured—C-click, c-click!—all the while wiggling, squirming, and struggling to remain conscious... for all the good it was doing her.  The inevitable happened.  Naked, bound, gagged, and with great reluctance, Abby Anders followed Hae's advice and drifted off to sleep... or a drug-induced version thereof.

Jodi had been running on the running machine for more than an hour... also walking, jogging, and occasionally sprinting... but mostly running.

There were no dangling chains, attached cuffs, or any other accessories that restrained her directly over the rubber treads rolling under her bare feet.  None were needed.  As Sloane tapped a series of commands into the machine's touchscreen control panel (which was facing away from the treadmill and thus mostly out of Jodi's resentful field of view) she explained that Jodi's shock-collar was now slaved (so to speak) to the running machine's sensors.  So, if she stepped off the treadmill she'd receive gradually escalating shocks until she stepped back onto the treadmill and resumed running or walking or whatever was required to keep up with the program.  Also, if she did try and slack off, an alarm would sound and Sloane would be forced to interrupt her class and deal with Jodi's lack of diligent cooperation, and Sloane assured her she would enjoy that even less than being shocked.  Spanking would be involved.

So... naked, her wrists still crossed and bound behind her back with white paracord and her lips still sealed with a broad strip of Elastoplast or Microfoam tape... Jodi walked, jogged, ran, and occasionally sprinted... over and over again, with no end in sight.  Eventually, she was panting through flaring nostrils, her heart pounding and her skin flushed, and she was glowing like the proverbial horse.

At some point Sensi Pendergast's kung-fu class ended and the participants all bowed, deeply and in unison to their sensi... then, chatting and giggling, made their collective exit through a pair of double doors that were not the double doors Lulu-maid had used to drag Jodi into the gym.  Once open those double-doors gave Jodi a glimpse of ceramic tiles and she could hear the womens' voices echoing back into the gym.  She surmised the space beyond was some sort of shower and changing room, but couldn't really be sure.

Jodi continued running... then decided a test was in order.  She stopped running and let the treadmill carry her off the end... and was immediately rewarded by a stinging (but mild) shock across her throat!  "Urk!"  She quickly stepped back onto the treadmill and resumed running.

Jodi was in excellent shape (she had a running machine of her own back in her crappy apartment and it got daily use when she was in town) and was more resentful than exhausted, although she was shining with sweat.  Also, the shock from the collar had been more of an stinging reminder than a cruel torment, but she had no choice but to keep running.  After careful consideration, Jodi decided... This sucks!

Suddenly, the double doors to the probable locker room and showers opened, admitting the sound of running/splashing water and a still naked Sloane.

The ginger maid's petite body was glistening with water (meaning she was damp but not wet) and her hair was under a white towel wrapped turban-fashion atop her grinning head—and oh-by-the-way, Jodi noted that a totally nude Sloane was even more of a ginger-mega-hottie than Sloane in maid's uniform.  Her figure was petite and slender but perfect.  Her only flaw was that her boobs were slightly smaller than Jodi's... maybe.  Her copper-red pubic thatch had a neatly trimmed margin, but was... luxuriant.  Anyway, the boob thing was marginal, Jodi was still a ginger-mega-cutie, and she wasn't at all jealous.  However, she was more than a little angry... and sweaty.

"That's probably enough for your first time," Sloane announced as she tapped the touchscreen and the treadmill ground to a halt.  "Sensi was right, as always.  You are in good enough shape to handle the intermediate program she specified.  Next time I'll add a little hill work."

Jodi panted, listened to her heart thump, and stared daggers at her disgustingly beautiful handler.

"Follow me," Sloane ordered, then spun on her bare heels and padded towards the double doors from whence she had come.

Jodi heaved a tape-gagged sigh... then wearily padded in her wake.

The passed through the doors and Jodi paused to look around.  Nailed it! she thought.  The tiled space was, indeed, a locker room and shower complex.  There was no sign of Ms. Pendergast, but at least half of her students were still present.  One was soaking in a stainless steel Jacuzzi-style therapy tub, several were primping in front of mirrors and washbasins, three were still under the showers, and the rest were getting dressed in the locker area.  Three were changing into maid uniforms, two into white cook uniforms, and the rest into various forms of business attire.

Sloane smiled (evilly) and pointed at the generous shower alcove.  "Go get wet," she ordered.

Jodi blinked and stared at the showers... turned her wide-eyed gaze to Sloane... then back to the showers.

"Don't worry about your collar," Sloane purred.  "It's one hundred percent waterproof, guaranteed."  Then, she slapped Jodi's right butt-cheek!  Whack!

Eek!  Jodi flinched, turned and glowered at her ginger-mega-hottie-handler, then stuck her unarguably cute button nose in the humid air and stomped (padded) towards the running shower heads and the three naked bathers or showerees.  Showerees? Jodi wondered.  Is 'showerees' a word?

Anyway, the wet naked twenty-something women in question were an African with very dark skin, a Latina with coffee-colored skin, and an Asian with tan skin only a little lighter than the Latina's.  They noticed Jodi's arrival, smiled and made room for her, then made cooing noises in a pleasant and allegedly welcoming manner as they pulled her under the hot water—Eek!—and began running their hands over her squirming body.  Then, one of them turned off the water, they used wall-mounted dispensers to squirt shower-gel onto their palms—Pump-pump-pump—then resumed running said palms over Jodi's slippery form, raising suds in the process!

"She only needs to get wet," Sloane called from the shower alcove entrance.

"Buzz off, Sloane," the Latina suggested, and her fellow Jodi-soaping-beauties giggled.

Sloane's smile broadened but she didn't otherwise respond.

Jodi continued squirming and making a futile effort to evade her dripping wet handlers' gliding hands!  It was horrible!  And not at all sensual!  Not even a little bit!  Honest!  The soap smelled nice, by the way, it wasn't stinging her eyes, and she wondered if it was available for home use... but Jodi wasn't enjoying herself, no-siree!

And then, one of her bath-attendants (Jodi decided they were "bath-attendants") turned on the water again—Eek!—and all three made sure their ginger fellow showeree got a thorough rinse.  They took their time and made sure all the suds streamed or were stripped from her squirming body and disappeared down the drains.  Finally, the water stopped.

"One wet ginger, as ordered," the Asian purred as the others giggled.  Jodi noted the Asian had a slight accent of some sort.  It was very sexy.  She was very sexy.  Wet, smiling, and very hands-on, all three of her handlers were very sexy.

Meanwhile, Sloane stepped forward, placed her right hand on Jodi's dripping wet shoulder, and led her away.  Jodi looked back over her shoulder at the trio still in the shower.  Thank you! she silently wished her bath-attendants, who smiled and waved.  Jodi noticed that while she'd been busy being scrubbed and rinsed by the three naked, wet beauties, Sloane had found two more coils of the same white paracord currently binding her crossed wrists behind her back.  They dangled (ominously) from her left hand.

Sloane and her dripping wet charge approached a door of frosted glass.  Jodi noted a that a few feet in front of the closed portal a stainless steel drain was set in the tiled floor and directly above it a shower-head with a pull-chain dangled from the ceiling.

"Brace yourself," Sloane purred as she took hold of the door's L-shaped handle, pulled open the door, and with Jodi in tow, crossed the threshold.

Jodi walked into an invisible wall of super-heated humidity!  A steam room! Jodi realized.  I'm in a steam room!  The floor, ceiling, and walls were tiled, as were the two tiers of benches built into the walls on either side and in front of the door.  Oh-by-the-way, it was hot!  Okay, not actually "super-heated" hot, but hot!  Also, the humidity was hovering between 99 and 101 percent, and it was hot!

Sloane marched (see also dragged and forcefully compelled) Jodi across the room to the lower bench, plunked her naked butt on the hot tiles (which rapidly became warm tiles, then just tiles) and used one of her paracord coils to bind Jodi's ankles, feet, and big toes together in another of her overkill no-hopping-allowed ties.  Sloane then sat on the upper bench with her legs to either side of Jodi's wet, squirming body and used her final coil of paracord to craft a simple upper-body-harness that pinned her fellow ginger's upper-arms to her sides, yoked her shoulders, encircled her waist, and anchored her crossed and already bound wrists snugly against her spine and a few inches above her butt.  It was a depressingly effective demonstration of the ginger-mega-hottie-maid's superb rigging skills.

Sloane then stood and padded to the door.  "Enjoy the heat," she wished her glowering and completely naked, bound, tape-gagged, and shock-collared fellow ginger, then opened the door, crossed the threshold, and closed the door behind her.  Seen through the frosted glass, Sloane's silhouetted figure faded into the distance and disappeared.

Having no choice in the matter, Jodi remained behind... wet, helpless, and increasingly hot.

Minutes passed... as many as... two?

Jodi had been wet from the shower... but soon her pores were opening and she realized she was now wet from the shower and sweat.  She didn't seem to have passed through a transitory state of being dry.  Her hair was also wet, of course, a tangled mass of dark red curls.

Even more minutes passed... bring the grand total of her overheated ordeal to... five?

Jodi continued sweating... and continued being hot... in every sense of the word.  She was far from being in thermal distress, but remained resentful.

Then, Jodi noticed movement beyond the steam room door.  A very feminine, very nude figure, taller than Sloane, was silhouetted in the frosted glass, and as Jodi watched, the figure reached up and pulled on the shower head's dangling chain... then slowly turned her curvaceous body under the wet stream.  Jodi couldn't tell who she was... but whoever she was she was definitely in good shape... very good shape... with generous boobs, a wasp-waist, and broad hips, a perfect hourglass figure.  After several seconds the unknown naked goddess released the chain and the water stopped.  Then, the silhouette did a full-body stretch... combed her fingers through her long, dark, wet hair... reached out and turned the door-latch, opened the door, and joined Jodi in the steam room.

Jodi's eyes popped wide, then blinked when the inevitable sweat stung her eyes.  The naked newcomer with the killer bod was Bethany Gibson!

"I hope you enjoyed your first exercise period, Ms. McJoy," the younger Gibson Gazillionaire wished her nervous, weakly struggling, and very sweaty supposed employee.

Jodi had no choice but to admit Bethany had one seriously sexy and eminently healthy physique, as well as a gorgeous face and a winning (and slightly scary) smile.  And those eyes! Jodi mused.  Also, the younger Gibson had magnificent hooters... with nipples!  (Not that Jodi was jealous or anything.  Certainly not!)

As the tall brunette (Bethany was a towering 5'8"!!) padded forward, Jodi noted she had sexy bare feet as well... which wasn't particularly surprising.  She sat on Jodi's right, draped her left arm over Jodi's shoulders (which did not help the ginger captive control her blinking and stinging sweat problem), then gently squeezed Jodi's right breast with her right hand!

Jodi shivered in her bonds and Bethany's sideways embrace and barely (so to speak) remembered not to complain and thereby trigger her shock-collar.  It was déjà-vu-all-over-again.  Jodi had been in a strikingly similar predicament yesterday in the theater!  Was it only yesterday?

"I know just what you need to help you relax," Bethany purred in Jodi's right ear, then released her breast, slowly trailed her right index finger down Jodi's front... circled her bellybutton... down her lower-tummy... through her red pubic curls... and gently prodded the clitoral region of her hoo-haw!

Sweat be damned!  Jodi's green eyes popped to maximum width and she froze in her bonds and Bethany's embrace!

"One quick orgasm," Bethany whispered, "then I'll carry you to your room."

Jodi frantically shook her head and continued to struggle, but Bethany was too strong and Sloane's paracord bonds were too well tied—and now Bethany's fingers and hand were moving!