From the Many Thrilling Adventures of Jodi McJoy!
		by Van ©2024
		Chapter 10

Much to Jodi's relief (mainly because of the knotted crotch-rope sliding through her hoo-haw with every barefoot step), the destination Bethany led (dragged) her to was relatively close and was the luxurious home theater where the Gibsons had first briefed her on their 3DP brainstorm/obsession.  By the way, Jodi was more convinced than ever that "3DP" (the "Damsel-in-Distress Project") was a damn good acronym and was positive she could sell it to them if only they'd just give her a gag and shock-collar free opportunity.

The theater was unchanged.  There was with the same comfy overstuffed sofa flanked by the same matching overstuffed armchairs and facing the same wall of curtains that (presumably) concealed the world's largest wall-mounted Hi-definition TV.

Peggy Gibson was waiting on the sofa and Jodi assumed that once again she was about to become the filling in a Gibson-mother/daughter-sandwich, just like when she'd been forced to involuntarily watch their Bondage Comic Covers slideshow and listen to their cockamamie-but-strangely-compelling sales pitch.  As usual, the Gibson matriarch was expensively and stylishly dressed for business (like her daughter), and at the moment was perusing the screen of an iPad, but she looked up and smiled as Jodi made her Grand Entrance: struggling, squirming, and resisting every barefoot step.

Bethany plunked Jodi down on the sofa against her mother's right side and handed her Jodi's leash.

Peggy set the iPad on a side-table as she accepted the leash, then draped her right arm over Jodi's shoulders in a sideways hug, effectively confining the naked, box-tied, collared, tape-gagged, and squirming ginger to the sofa.

"Welcome, Ms. McJoy," Peggy purred, planted a kiss on Jodi's forehead, then smiled at her daughter.  "I assume Sloane was put out when you stole her favorite toy?"

"Not at all, Mother," Bethany chuckled, "at least not overtly."

I'm Sloane's 'favorite toy?' Jodi mused as she tried to ignore Peggy's overly affectionate greeting.  That explains a lot.

"We'll find a way to make it up to her," Peggy responded.

That's not at all ominous, Jodi silently huffed, but she was mostly concentrating on what Bethany was doing to her.  The junior Gibson had knelt at Jodi's bare feet, opened one of the Gibsons' ubiquitous black nylon duffel-bags full of white nylon rope, and was using its contents to bind Jodi's legs and feet!

When Bethany was finished, settled onto the sofa, and snuggled against Jodi's right side (the same way her mother was snuggled against Jodi's left), the naked, disgruntled, and still box-tied (and crotch-tied) ginger's legs were splayed and lashed to the sofa.  Doubled ropes stretched from both her ankles and her lower thighs down to the stubby front legs of the sofa and preventing her from closing her knees!  It was a very unladylike pose, especially as she was naked, and Jodi knew her mother would not approve. 

Jodi's shock-collar/choker was still turned off (as far as she knew as she hadn't tested it), but she was also still tape-gagged and therefore couldn't articulate any intelligible complaints anyway, nor could she use her rapier wit to admonish the Gibsons for their lack of proper etiquette, nor could she protest the gross immodesty of her predicament—but it didn't matter as she'd decided not to provide her mega-wealthy captors with the entertainment value of listening to her pathetic tape-gagged mewling and watching (and feeling) her wiggling, squirming, and especially shivering efforts to escape her inescapable bonds while in their proprietary embrace.

The feared rerun of the McJoy-on-Gibson sandwich had happened!

"We have something to show you," Peggy whispered, her lips about an inch from Jodi's left ear, "as well as a few things to discuss.  Sweetpea?"

Bethany's right hand had been resting on Jodi's right thigh (which did not help Jodi's efforts to remain still).  "Mother?"

"The remote?" Peggy purred.

"Oh!" Peggy chuckled, "the remote."  She lifted her hand from Jodi's thigh, leaned to her right... and returned with the touchscreen remote they'd used during Jodi's first theater-going experience.  "Sweetpea" pointed the remote at the curtain and tapped the screen.

A motor quietly sounded—Hmmm—and the curtains slowly parted, revealing the titanic TV... then the screen began to glow.

Jodi's green eyes popped wide above her tape-gag.

Instead of a slide-show of bondage art, Jodi and the Gibsons were now staring at a high-definition image of a dark chamber.  It was dark in the background, anyway, but in the center of both the chamber and the screen and brightly lit from above by multiple tiny spotlights were... Brie Aspen Grant and Judith Levigne!

The gorgeous and world famous actresses and producers (and director in the case of Brie) were naked, elaborately bound with white nylon rope, and suspended by taut vertical ropes, heads up and feet down!  As for the details of the rigging...

From the waist up Jodi's fellow naked gingers appeared to be box-tied in much the same manner as Jodi herself, at least as viewed from the rear.  Jodi couldn't see their fronts.  Their wrists were crossed and their forearms raised well-above the horizontal with the same nexus of ropes just below their shoulder blades.  Crotch-ropes encircled their waists and cleaved their butt-cheeks, and their legs were fully extended and bound together (individually and collectively) at their mid-thighs, above and below their knees, their mid-lower-legs, ankles, feet, and big toes.  The leg-bondage might be different from Jodi's (no sofa being involved), but as was the case with their box-ties, all Jodi could see was the backs of their legs and the bottoms of their feet.

Why backs but no fronts?  Brie and Judith were face-to-face, boob-to-boob, tummy-to-tummy, thigh-to thigh, shin-to-shin, and pointing-foot-to-pointing-foot!  That's right, they were lashed and squashed together as they dangling from the vertical ropes!  As for their toes, they were tied together and to a pair of taut doubled vertical ropes that disappeared off the bottom of the screen!

Brie and Judith's long ginger locks were tightly plaited into single braids that dangled down their backs (like Jodi's braid), their mouths were taped shut (also like Jodis'), and the steel rings dangling from their collar/chokers were linked by a few semi-taut inches of nested steel chain (un-like Jodi's).  Also, the lashed-together gingers were shining... as in sweating... with moisture beading on their foreheads, upper arms, dimpled butts, and all the way down their long, lashed-together legs to their pointing toes!

Also, the suspended-and-lashed-together-from-head-to-toe captives were slowly... very slowly... and continuously rotating 360°.  Abruptly, windows popped open on either side of the central image, displayed closeups and panning shots providing even more of the details of their shared predicament.  As Jodi blinked and watched... sweat rolled down the onscreen captives' chests and disappeared between their squashed-together-breasts.  Obviously there were multiple cameras in the chamber capturing the Brie/Judith bondage spectacle, robotic cameras as far as Jodi could tell.  There were no signs of camera operators, maid-riggers, or anyone else in the background.

"This is a bonding exercise," Peggy explained quietly (almost reverently).  "Brie and Judith will be working closely together on the first few projects... and what better way to bring them together... than to tie them together?"

"They're so beautiful," Bethany sighed, then cupped Jodi's right breast with one hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  "We simply love copper-red hair and fair skin... with or without freckles... both Mother and myself."

Jodi rolled her green eyes.  No, ya think?

"We do," Peggy agreed with a sigh.  Now, one of her hands was resting on Jodi's thigh... Jodi's left thigh... Jodi's left inner thigh.

The show on the big screen and her Gibson Gazillionaire captors' gentle hands were conspiring to make Jodi lose her battle to control the urge to shiver—"Mrrrrrm!"—and suppress her mewling reactions.

"It's hot in that room," Peggy stated.  Her hand was now sliding on Jodi's inner thigh.  "Not as hot as the steam room, of course, but hot.  Hence the sweating."

"It provides lubrication as they struggle against each other," Bethany purred, "but it won't help them escape from Mother's ropes.  No one's a better rigger than Mother... except Ms. Pendergast."  She squeezed Jodi's breast again.  Jodi assumed it a form of rhetorical emphasis.

This had totally demolished Jodi's efforts to control her shivering and squirming, and as she writhed in her bonds and the Gibsons' embrace, she stole a glance at Peggy.  So she's the one who tied them up.  She meant Brie and Judith, of course.  I assume she had help from the maids... or Ms. Pendergast.

"Are they coming around, Mother?" Beverly inquired.

"They are rotating," Peggy purred.

Bethany smiled and rolled her eyes.  "No, Mother.  Are they committed to the project?"

"Yes, Sweetpea," Peggy nodded, "but they're not yet the fully integrated team that we require.  Hence the need for this exercise.  It should nudge them down the proper path."

Jodi frowned above her gag.  Is she craz—"MRRRF!"  Bethany's hand had given her boob a tight squeeze, then slid down her body and was now clutching her rope-framed-and-cleaved-pussy!  Jodi squirmed and struggled in reaction, but Bethany's ropes continued preventing her from closing her legs!  "NRRRRRM!"

"Inside voice, Jodi," Bethany purred, "or I'll be forced to activate your collar... and that would be a shame.  We find your cute little gagged noises to be very entertaining."

I knew it! Jodi silently fumed as she twisted, writhed, and fought her bonds—"Mrrrpfh!"—and continued complaining, but she did lower the volume as ordered.  "Mmmmf!"  Jodi did not enjoy being zapped in the larynx.  Also, Bethany's hand was now moving across her rope-bound pussy!  It was the exact same way she'd diddled her back in the steam room (not counting the crotch-ropes)—and meanwhile, Peggy's hands were busy teasing her nipples!

"We're keeping the erotic aspects of the agenda to a minimum with the other recruits," Peggy explained, "at least for now."

"Otherwise," Bethany purred, "Brie and Judith would be sharing a buzzing computer-modulated Hitachi wand as we speak." She paused briefly to nibble on Jodi's right ear lobe.  "But you've been to Blissful Beach, haven't you."  It was a statement, not a question.  "We don't have to take things slow with Jodi McJoy."

"You're ahead of the class," Peggy chuckled, then addressed her daughter.  "Sweetpea, didn't you say you'd be bringing a few goodies from your bedroom?"

"I did, Mother," Bethany confirmed, leaned down to the black duffel-bag that had been the source of Jodi's insidious leg-spreading ropes... and returned with an elegantly proportioned and richly stained wooden box about the size and general shape of a cigar or shallow jewelry box.  She set it on the sofa at her side, opened its lid, and reached inside.

Jodi was trying to lean forward and crane her neck to see what Bethany was up to, but Peggy was holding her back and making it difficult.  But then—Jodi's green eyes popped to maximum width!—Bethany's right arm was reaching directly across her body, and dangling from her fingers Jodi could see—a pair of stainless steel spring-loaded clover-clamps connected by a light chain of nested links!  And just to be clear, clover-clamps are NIPPLE CLAMPS!!

Jodi decided some sort of strenuous objection in her outside voice was called for, and shock-collar be damned!  "MRRRRRF!!"

"Hush, you silly girl," Peggy chuckled as she accepted the dangling, tinkling clamps and chain from her daughter.  "The springs aren't that strong, and it's not like the pads are lined with tiny little needles or anything."

"No," Bethany purred.  "They're more like tiny-little pinpoints.  The texture makes for a nice firm grip."

Mesmerized (and border-line freaking out) about the nipple clamps still dangling from Peggy's fingers, Jodi missed it when Bethany reached back into her box of goodies and produced a metallic-green torpedo-style vibrator!  However—"Mrrrf?"—Jodi flinched and definitely noticed when Bethany pressed the button at the base of the vibrator, turning it on—Bzzzzz—then pressed its tapered tip against her crotch-ropes at the top margin of her red pubic bush!  That was kinda hard to miss!

"I call this one my 'Green Meanie," Bethany purred.  Obviously she was referring to the vibrator.

Then, Jodi's attention was jerked back to the left!  Peggy was toying with her left nipple (meaning Jodi's left nipple).  It popped erect in response, as did her right.  (Traitorous teats! Jodi mentally admonished her nipples.)  Then, Peggy closed one of the clamps on the turgid pink nubbin!

"NRRRRRMK!"

"She's cute when she does her naked, bound, and gagged drama queen routine," Bethany chuckled.  She was slowly sliding the vibrator up and down the crotch ropes, from Jodi's curly bush... to the top margin of her clitoral region... and back again.

"Name something Ms. McJoy does that isn't cute," Peggy purred, then concentrated on capturing Jodi's right nipple in the second clamp.

"Point taken, Mother," Bethany chuckled.

"Mrrrf!" Jodi whined, shivered in her bonds, and struggled to retain her sanity as waves of exquisite agony rolled across her breasts, centered on her squashed nipples!  ...  Okay, the clamps stung a little, especially at first, then her nipples settled into a persistent and more-irritating-than-painful burn.  No actual agony was involved.  Granted, the damn things hurt when Peggy tugged on the chain, the clamps tightened, and her nipples and boobs were stretched... but it wasn't that bad and this wasn't Jodi McJoy's first clover-clamp rodeo.

Meanwhile, Bethany was enlarging the vibrator's excursions to include Jodi's inner-upper-thighs, lower tummy, her flushed labia where they pouted between the crotch-ropes, and the central knotted doubled-rope cleaving her pussy!

Peggy's nipple-tugging and boob-kneading continued.

Bethany's vibratory tour of Jodi's rope-bound lady-bits and adjacent anatomy continued.

Jodi wiggled, squirmed, and shuddered (see also wriggled, writhed, and delicately shivered), but the Gibsons easily controlled her struggles without interrupting or even impeding their nipple and pussy-teasing activities.

Eventually... inevitably... Jodi's naked, bound, collared, gagged, and Gorgeous-Gazillionaire-embraced body went rigid... and she shuddered in orgasm... followed by more shuddering as orgasmic aftershocks rippled through her rope-bound hoo-haw.

Peggy let go of the nipple-clamp-chain, letting it drape down Jodi's rope-bound upper tummy, while Bethany switched off the vibrator and returned it to the box.  Mother and daughter continued their gentle embrace of their ginger "guest's" panting, shivering body.

"Once you have a chance to recover," Peggy said quietly, "we'll discuss what to do about your employer at Domino Magazine.  She's making a nuisance of herself, asking awkward questions."

Once she managed to process what Peggy had just said, Jodi's green eyes opened and she blinked several times.  Dominique?  The boss is missing me?  Good!  It didn't do Jodi much good at the moment, of course, but if Dominique was complicating life for the Gibsons, that was a positive development... probably.

"Then," Bethany purred, "we'll see about getting you off a few more times."

Jodi was trying to decide if she should glower and squirm like the Intrepid Investigative Reporter that she was... or shiver and whine like a Damsel-in-Distress being threatened with additional erotic torment.  Her nipples continued burning (a little) and her pussy quivering (a little).  Brave Defiance verses Meek Surrender remained an open question.

Meanwhile, on the giant TV screen across the theater, Brie Aspen Grant and Judith Levigne continued hanging in their inescapable and intimate bondage, naked, bound, collared, tape-gagged, helpless, sweating... and slowly rotating under the bright lights.

Eventually Jodi passed out, although she did briefly stir when Peggy gently removed the clover-clamps.  Ow!  Ow!  Anyway, she had to be carried back to the Magnificent Bedroom she shared with Maggie and Abby.  Therefore, the intervention of Dominique Defossé in Jodi's current situation was never discussed and became one more thing for Jodi to add to her growing list of topics to be dealt with the next time she was given a chance to chat with the Gibson Gazillionaires.

So...

The next several days settled into something of a routine.  There might not be a formal plan-of-the-day (at least not one that was shared with Jodi and her roommates), but recurring events happened on a nearly daily basis, such as:

(1)  Exercise.  Jodi and her thespian chums were dragged down to the gym and subjected to running on the treadmill, rowing to nowhere on the rowing machine, climbing imaginary mountains on the climbing machine, and increasing (supposedly) their strength, flexibility, and muscle tone on the resistance machines.  And-oh-by-the-way, it turned out all the equipment did have subtle but effective restraints, as well or sensors that could be "slaved" to their shock-collars and enforce the prisoners' compliance with the program.

(2)  Bondage Demonstrations.  Grumpy, Freckles, and Dimples were already familiar with the hogtie and the shrimp-tie, but now they were introduced to the ball-tie, the arms-over-head-and-up-on-your-toes-tie, the standing-spread-eagle or Vitruvian-Man tie, and various Shibari/Kinbaku techniques that required a lot of rope and dedicated effort on the part of Sloane and the other rigger-maids.  (By the way, only Jodi was "privileged" to have a personal dedicated rigger-maid in the form of The Evil Sloane.  Maggie and Judith only rated rigger-maids-of-the-day assigned on an apparently random basis.)

(3)  Post-exercise Sweat-o-ramas in the Penthouse Steam Room.  In every case bondage was involved.  That is, all three gingers would be tied up (usually with their wrists crossed behind their backs and tied together with white paracord), rinsed off, and shoved into the steam room, there to simmer until their bound and naked bodies were dripping with sweat.

(4)  Occasional Post-Steam Room Massages.  All three roommates were treated to Deep Tissue massages on a regular if not daily basis.  Restraint was always involved... but then restraint seemed to be involved in 90% of everything that happened to Jodi, Maggie, and Abby in the Gibson's multi-storied penthouse.

(5)  Nightly Bondage Exercises.  One or more of "The Ginger Amigas" (Grumpy, Freckles, and Dimples came up with that one on their own and Sloane and the other maids picked it up) spent every night in some form of bondage.  Often it was rope, but leather harnesses and steel handcuffs were also employed.  All three prisoners followed orders and refrained from untying knots or unbuckling buckles and liberating the damsel(s) du jour, or more properly de la nuit.  Handcuffs were moot, of course.  The Amigas couldn't do anything about handcuffs even if they'd wanted to.  And oh-by-the-way, once one or more of the amigas had been restrained and the maids were gone, locking the bedroom door behind them, the roommates snuggled together for the night.  It was the polite thing to do... meaning the snuggling, not the bondage.

Also, there had been a few minor additions and/or rearrangements in The Magnificent Bedroom.

They returned to the bedroom one afternoon (meaning were dragged inside and released) and found that Jodi's computer workstation had miraculously appeared and two additional workstations with panoramic screens had been delivered for Maggie and Abby.  All three machines were networked to the Gibson intranet.  Also, as Maggie was the artist of the group, she'd also scored a top-of-the-line graphics tablet that was also linked to the network.

Also, the bedroom's formerly almost-more-or-less-empty bookshelves had been populated with hardbound copies of what had to be every "important" bondage comic/graphic-novel ever published, including Willie, Bishop, Stanton, Saudelli, Coco, and the other artist/authors featured in the Gibson's "recruitment slide-show."  There were also less-explicitly fetish-themed works, like Jean-Claude Forest's Barbarella and Pierre Christin and Jean-Claude Mézières' Valérian and Laureline comic strips.  The Gibsons had spared no expense.  Sloane explained that this was Maggie and Abby's "resource library" for their writing efforts.

By the way, Maggie and Abby knew all about Jodi's role as the Official Chronicler of the Gibson's Grand Scheme, and they were okay with that.  Dimples and Freckles agreed that Grumpy was perfect for the task, based on the quality of her bestseller (which by this time Abby finished) and Jodi was included in all their brainstorming sessions (or was allowed to listen if it was her turn to be bound and gagged).  Maggie and Abby were developing a short-list of original sources they could draft into screenplays, and so far John Willie's (John Alexander Scott Coutts') Sweet Gwendoline and Franco Saudelli's La Bionda (The Blonde) stories were in the lead.  If the Gibsons agreed, Maggie and Abby would collaborate on the drafts and Maggie would sketch out rough, preliminary storyboards (which wouldn't be much of a challenge as the comics already were credible storyboards).

Also—(and don't tell the Gibsons or any of the maids, especially The Evil Sloane)—but it was all an act!  The Ginger Amigas were only pretending to cooperate with The Gibson Agenda.  In whispered and surreptitious conversations (seeing as how they knew there were cameras under mirrored glass domes up in the corners of the bedroom ceiling and they might be under surveillance at any moment) Jodi, Maggie, and Abby agreed that escape remained their top priority!  Being clever and perspicacious, they would pretend to work on brainstorming potential Damsel-in-Distress movies and/or TV series, all the while biding their time and waiting for an opportunity to scamper away.  Of course, the best way to be seen to be brainstorming about potential Damsel-in-Distress movies and/or TV series was to actually brainstorm about potential Damsel-in-Distress movies and/or TV series... but it was all a cunning ruse... or so Jodi kept telling herself whenever she popped into Maggie and Abby's discussions with another brilliant suggestion.

Oh-by-the-way, Jodi still remembered the Gibsons mentioning that Dominique (her boss) was causing them trouble, but still hadn't had a chance to talk about it with her kidnappers.  She supposed it was just as well.  Jodi wasn't exactly in a position to influence whatever might be happening at the offices of Domino Magazine.  All she could do was hope Dominique would get her out of the Gibson's Penthouse Prison, somehow, and sooner rather than later.

As for Brie Aspen Grant and Judith Lavigne... [insert cricket noises here].  No more mandatory viewing of Special Programs starring Brie and/or Judith as Damsels-in-Distress happened.  No deliberate or accidental mentions by The Gibson Gazillionaires about the famous/gorgeous/ginger thespians happened either.  Go figure.  The Ginger Amigas were puzzled.

So... days passed... and one afternoon Maggie was at her computer working on a first draft of a Willie's Sweet Gwendoline and the Race for the Gold Cup screenplay; Abby was in an easy-chair reading Saudelli's The Blonde: Double Cross; and Jodi was at her computer working on her "3DP Diary."  All three roommates were waiting for dinner to be delivered.

By the way, Jodi had been assured that all meetings and conversations (including abominable bondage demonstrations) had been recorded and archived and she'd have access to them once she got further along with her documentation efforts—and that included what the Gibsons considered "relevant events" where Jodi had been neither a witness nor a participant.

"Is this even possible?" Abby inquired abruptly.

Maggie and Jodi paused in their typing, reflexively saved their work, then focused on Abby and responded in perfect unison.

"What?"

Abby held up the open large format book and pointed at an illustration.

Jodi and Maggie left their office chairs, padded to Abby, and stared at a sequence of four drawings of Saudelli's "Blonde" escaping from rope bondage by passing her bound wrists from behind her back to front by sliding then past her butt then attacking the knots of her wrist-bonds with her teeth.

"What?" Jodi reiterated.

"You'd have to be a contortionist to pull that off," Abby scoffed, "wouldn't you?"

"Not at all," Jodi answered, "just reasonably flexible and in decent shape."  She grinned and pointed at the tangle of loose ropes around The Blonde's upper arms and torso.  "Note how she's already squirmed out of what would have prevented her from making the shift.  Actually, that's why you bind the elbows or tie an upper-body-harness, to make the back-to-front-over-the-butt-thing impossible."

Maggie nodded, then frowned at Jodi.  "You mean all this time, whenever the maids tied our hands behind our backs, all we had to to was..."  She pointed at the book still in Abby's hands.  "...that?"

Jodi smiled and shrugged.  "Sure... if you wanted your maid to reach into her apron pocket, pull out her shock-collar remote, zap you in the throat, and watch you writhe on the floor."

"Oh," Maggie responded.  "Point taken."

"Yeah," Abby agreed, then once again gazed at the book.  "So it is possible."

Jodi's smile turned a little... mischievous.  "You still seem skeptical," she purred, then turned and padded to a low cabinet across the bedroom, the place the maids stored the cord and rope they used for their nightly bondage demonstrations.  Other drawers held ball and panel-gags, as well as rolls of Elastoplast/Microform tape—but not the scissors required to snip off strips suitable for gags.  All the maids carried compact bandage scissors tucked into special pockets sewn into the inside of their apron pockets, so none were available in the bedroom for the use of ginger escape artiste wannabes.

Maggie and Abby watched as Jodi opened a drawer, reached inside, and pulled out a neat coil of white paracord.

"I'll prove it," Jodi stated as she released the coil's retaining hitch, quickly and deftly prepared it for use, then smiled at her roommates.  "Who wants to volunteer?"

Dimples and Freckles locked green eyes, then turned to Grumpy (the one with the cord in her hands) and pointed at each other.

"She does!" they answered in perfect unison.