From the Many Thrilling Adventures of Jodi McJoy!
		by Van ©2024
		Chapter 11

Jodi's smile turned mischievously wicked.  "So... you both want to try the back-to-front-escape maneuver?"

"No!  She does!" Maggie and Abby responded, still pointing at each other and speaking in total synchronicity.

Jodi thought it was very cute.  She reached back into the open drawer, selected a second coil of white paracord, and tossed it to Maggie.

"Prepare that for use," Jodi ordered and Maggie complied.

The first coil of paracord was once again ready in Jodi's hands as she padded to Abby, spun her around, pulled her arms behind her back, crossed her wrists over her upper butt-cheeks, and began lashing them together (meaning Abby's wrists, not her butt-cheeks).

For some inexplicable reason Abby let Jodi do it, meaning tie her wrists together behind her back!  Go figure.  Apparently Jodi was channeling The Evil Sloane.

Meanwhile (her green eyes wide as part of a look of mild astonishment on her incredibly cute face), Maggie continued holding the second coil of paracord doubled and ready for bondage duty.

"You're gonna tie her ankles next?" Maggie inquired in a near whisper.

Still smiling, Jodi took the cord from Maggie.  "No, I'm gonna tie your wrists next."

"Jodi!" Maggie whined as Jodi snatched the cord from her hands, spun her around, pulled her hands behind her back, and did just that, meaning tie her wrists together—and Maggie let her do it!

Wide-eyed and mildly astonished (like Maggie), Abby tugged on her bound wrists and watched as Jodi tied the final knot of her fellow thespian's wrist-bondage.  Maggie had cooperated.  Go figure.

Both wrist-bound roommates watched as Jodi (who was their fellow prisoner and roommate and therefore supposed to be on their side) returned to the drawer and selected four more coils of paracord.

"Four?" Maggie blurted.

"Look at the book," Jodi purred, nodding at the copy of The Blonde: Double Cross still open on Abby's former chair.  "Her ankles and knees are tied."

"She has a point," Abby conceded.

"Yeah, on top of her pointy head," Maggie muttered under her breath as she tugged on her wrist bonds.

"What was that?" Jodi inquired with a smile as she dropped three of the coils on the carpet and prepared the fourth for use.

"Nothin'," Maggie muttered.

"Down," Jodi ordered, her smile never wavering.

Maggie heaved a truly tragic sigh, then settled to the carpeted floor.

"Why not on the bed?" Abby asked (whined).  She was still standing.

"It's easier to do this maneuver on a hard surface," Jodi explained (alleged).  "Down."

Abby rolled her eyes, settled next to Maggie, and watched as Jodi knelt and tied Maggie's ankles together... followed by her knees.  Abby continued watching as Jodi scooted over and tied her ankles together as well... followed by her knees.

"So," Maggie huffed, "are you gonna count to three or something so we can get this over with?"

"Not just yet," Jodi chuckled as she climbed to her bare feet (and bare everything), padded back to the cabinet, and started rummaging through the drawers.  "Ah!" she said as she produced a pair of neatly folded white cloths.  They were either large handkerchiefs, summer weight scarves, or possibly just dust cloths.  "The Blonde was gagged, remembered?"

Maggie and Abby heaved simultaneous sighs.  Saudelli's larcenous heroine had indeed been gagged—cleave-gagged to be precise, but that didn't mean they had to be, right?

"Jodi!" they whined in unison.  (Dimples and Freckles were really in sync this evening.)

"Hush," Jodi chuckled as she padded back to the scene of her crime—meaning the current exercise—dropped one cloth next to Abby, then folded the other into a long, narrow, white bandage.

"This is totally unnecessary—Mrrrf!" Maggie noted/complained as Maggie thrust the cloth between her teeth, cinched it tight at the nape of her neck, then cinched it again to complete a neatly compacted square-knot.  Maggie was now well and truly cleave-gagged.

Abby pouted but didn't otherwise resist as she received similar treatment.  At least Jodi had been "nice" enough to make sure her long, straight, ginger hair was free of the cloth.  Hair-styling hadn't been a concern with Maggie as her short mop hadn't interfered with Jodi's gagging efforts.

"Okay," Jodi stated (gloated), as she smiled down at her victims.  The thick, tight, white cloths clutched in their teeth and causing their cheeks to bulge were very cute, in Jodi's villainous opinion.  "On the count of three. ... One. ... Two.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened and Sloane entered, resplendent in her usual maid's uniform.

The Ginger Amigas stared at The Evil Sloane.

The Evil Sloane stared back... then smiled.  "Well... this is unexpected.  Couldn't wait 'til bedtime?  Obviously you gals can't get enough bondage fun."

Jodi scowled.  "Shuddup!" she snapped.  "We're... doing somethin'."

Sloane had noticed the copy of Double Cross still open on the easy chair, strolled over, and gazed down at the open page.  "Oh, I see.  You're experimenting with... escape techniques."  She closed the book.  "I'm afraid I'm going to have to report this to management.  I expect our employers will either have you punished or add a few books about Harry Houdini to your reading list.  Maybe both."  She then pointed at Jodi.  "Hands on top of your head, Grumpy."

Jodi scowled but complied, interlacing her fingers and resting her palms atop her slightly tousled ginger curls, then watched as her nemesis strolled to the still open cabinet drawer full of bondage goodies.  "Bitch," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Sloane inquired as she rummaged in the drawer, selected a coil of white paracord, and deftly prepared it for use as she strolled in Jodi's direction.

"Nothin'," Jodi huffed, then scowled at infinity as Sloane spun her around, pulled her hands from atop her head and behind her back, crossed her wrists, and tied them together... the same way Jodi herself had just tied Maggie and Abby's wrists.  Then—"Hey!"—Sloane grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her to the cabinet.  "Let me go you bitch!"

"Oh, Jodi," Sloane chuckled, then released Grumpy's hair, reached into her apron pocket, produced what all three Ginger Amigas recognized as her shock-collar/choker remote control, gave it a tap, then returned it to her pocket.  "If you can't say something nice," Sloane purred as they continued towards the cabinet, "don't say anything at all."

"You—Urk!"  Jodi had intended to give The Evil Sloane a proper dressing down and tell her exactly what she could do with her vapid advice about proper behavior, but a stinging zap across her larynx had changed her mind.  Jodi's shock-collar was now activated.  Bitch! she silently fumed.

They arrived at the cabinet.  Sloane opened a drawer and pulled out what Jodi recognized as one of the Gibsons' stylish and nasty panel-gags.  It was brown leather with gunmetal steel hardware (of course) and its plug was one of those silicon-rubber globs with a built-in tongue-trapping cavity and integrated bite-protectors.  It buckled in the back against the nape of the wearer's neck, and this particular model had a narrow strap that would pass under the wearer's chin and buckle tight.  Jodi (as well as Maggie and Abby) recognized it was one of the most effective damsel silencers in the penthouse inventory, even if the wearer's shock-collar wasn't activated.

Jodi heaved a silent sigh, but "allowed" Sloane to slide/shove the plug into her mouth and rock it back and forth to make sure her tongue was properly immobilized and her teeth in the bite-protectors.  Jodi's oral cavity was now more-or-less full to capacity.  Grumpy continued being grumpy but cooperative as the main strap was buckled tight at the nape of her neck and under her hair.  Then, the chin strap was secured.  So... Jodi was gagged... and she was not a happy camper.  She scowled at her rigger/handler above her new gag, and Sloane smiled back.

This "impasse" continued for several long glowering and gloating seconds... then Sloane opened another drawer and pulled out... a sack of black cloth.

Jodi thought it was probably spandex or some similar fabric and—It's a hood!—she realized as Sloane pulled it over her head and everything went dark!

Maggie and Abby stared at the hood with wide, green, blinking eyes above their thick white cleave-gags.  The hood was skin-tight, the fabric directly over Jodi's eyes appeared to be doubled, and they could make out the shape and general details of Jodi's underlying panel-gag.  It covered Jodi's neck (and shock-collar) in addition to her entire cranium.   They continued watching (and blinking) as Sloane fussed with Jodi's hair, pulling the copper-red strands tigether until they emerged from the back of the hood's collar and draped down Jodi's back between her shoulder-blades.

So, Jodi McJoy was naked, her wrists crossed and bound behind her back, her shock-collar enforcing silence, her mouth plugged, the panel-gag's lightly padded inner surface tightly pressed against her lower face (and redundantly enforcing silence), and hooded with skintight and light-tight spandex!  She tugged on her wrist-bonds and panted through her spandex-shrouded nostrils.  Her chest (and breasts) rose and fell with every breath.

"As for you two," Sloane said, addressing Maggie and Abby, "your dinner trays will be delivered in a few minutes.  If you haven't freed yourselves, neatly coiled your former bonds, and put them away by the time they arrive, you'll be put to bed without any supper and bound hand and foot in a manner from which even The Blonde couldn't escape."  And with that, she took a firm grip on Jodi's right arm and they exited the bedroom.

Maggie and Abby stared at the closed and (presumably) locked door... stared at each other... then enthusiastically set to work on their first ever back-to-front escape attempts.  One or both of them might be scheduled for a night of bondage anyway, but that was no reason to make it a sure thing.

Jodi padded down the hallway under The Evil Sloane's control.  Totally blindfolded by the tight hood, she had no choice but to trust that her ginger-mega-hottie-handler would protect her from stumbling into the walls and furniture.  There were left and right turns... a brief elevator ride... then more involuntary padding with Sloane clutching her right arm.  Finally...

"It's about time," Bethany Gibson's voice muttered as Sloane dragged Jodi to a halt.  Being hooded/blindfolded Jodi could only assume that the rest of Bethany was also present and not just her voice.  "Trouble?"

"No, Mistress," Sloane answered.

"I guess I'm just being impatient," Bethany sighed.

"Understandable, Mistress," Sloane responded.

Jodi heard a door open, then Sloane dragged Jodi forward and into... a space.  (She was still hooded and could still see nothing.)

Then, Jodi was lifted into the air by multiple unseen handlers and—Hey!—plunked down on a padded surface that was something like a bolster, hassock, ottoman, and—HEY!!—onto something vertical, semi-rigid, possibly latex-clad, and apparently lubricated as it was sliding into her hoo-haw with minimal resistance!

It's a Symbian! Jodi realized.

Although her handlers were being gentle (or a reasonable facsimile thereof), Jodi squirmed and struggled and would very much have liked to voice strenuous objections; but she couldn't, of course, as she was both gagged and her shock-collar was energized.

While Jodi did her futile best to deal with the situation her handlers began securing her in place.

Jodi's wrists here untied and her hands forced into what felt like leather mitts that were laced and buckled tight, converting her fingers, thumbs, and hands into useless flippers.

Some sort of cold metal post slid against her back and snapped into place, then the ends of the flipper-mitts were secured to either end of some sort of rigid horizontal metal rod.

Meanwhile, her legs were folded, fully bending her knees, then strapped against the sides of the Symbian.  Her ankles were in padded cuffs somewhere to the rear while her thighs and lower legs were strapped together and to the Symbian in the manner of a frog-tie.

Additional cuffs or straps were buckled tight around her forearms, upper-arms, and waist.

In short, Jodi was now strapped to what felt like a cross-shaped steel armature with her arms flung wide to either side.  Also, she was straddling the Symbian with her folded and splayed legs completely immobilized and she was impaled on a phallic... uh... phallus!  Jodi was on the Symbian to stay!

Jodi wiggled and squirmed and strained, but was totally helpless!

"Thank you, ladies," Peggy Gibson's voice announced.  "That will be all."  The Gibson matriarch was here too!

There was a great deal of quiet tittering and giggling from all around Jodi and her Symbian throne... followed by shuffling footsteps... then the thud of the closing door.  Obviously Jodi had just "witnessed" the strategic withdrawal of the small army of maid-minions that had secured her in place.  She assumed they'd curtsied to the Gibsons before scampering away.  They always did.

Abruptly, the spandex hood was jerked from Jodi's head.  She shook her head in a semi-effective effort to free her gagged face from errant strands of her tousled red hair—then her green eyes popped to their maximum width and she almost forgot to not scream through her gag, thus saving herself from a stinging shock across her throat!

Danica McKellar as... Dominique Defossé

Directly in front of Jodi was a second Symbian, and restrained atop its padded surface in exactly the same manner as Jodi (including gag and shock-collar) was a beautiful, naked, fit, curvaceous, 40-something brunette with smooth, fair skin and very pretty brown eyes—and she was Dominique Defossé!

Jodi's green eyes blinking in shock and amazement as she watched her boss weakly squirm and struggle and demonstrate the total futility of trying to escape from the Gibsons' leather mitts, cuffs, and straps; however, Dominique wasn't mewling through her gag.  Jodi assumed Dominique's standard Gibson shock-collar/choker was turned on and ready to zap her throat if she tried making any vocal noise (same as Jodi's).

Jodi reflected that not only did the Gibsons have a Symbian equipped with a shiny steel cross-shaped armature and inescapable leather restraints, they had two Symbians equipped with a shiny steel cross-shaped armature and inescapable leather restraints.  But then, for all Jodi knew, Peggy and Bethany had an entire warehouse full of Symbians equipped with shiny steel cross-shaped armatures and inescapable leather restraints in case they decided they wanted to throw a Symbians equipped with shiny steel armatures and inescapable leather restraints dinner party.

And oh-by-the-way... for Jodi it was old news that Dominique had pierced nipples.  She'd already experienced that epiphany at Blissful Beach; however, her boss wasn't wearing her usual hideously expensive dumbbell posts with jeweled settings as end-caps—nor was she wearing the nasty little nipple-stretching steel cages she'd endured at the island resort/spa/sanatorium.  Instead, Dominique was wearing simple/utilitarian stainless steel posts with U-shaped stirrups!  As Jodi's fellow Symbian-prisoner struggled, her boobs shook and flopped (just a little), causing the stirrups to swing and shake (just a little).

Dominique blinked her big brown eyes at Jodi.

Jodi blinked her green eyes at her boss... then shifted her gaze to Peggy and Bethany (who were smiling like a pair of Cheshire cats)... then shifted her gaze back to Dominique.

So... Jodi mused, I take it this isn't a rescue?

"I have great news," Peggy gushed, addressing Jodi.  "We've added Luxury Languishing to our list of feature-length movies under development!"  She nodded towards Jodi's boss.  "And Dominique has agreed to cough up half the initial financing."

Jodi glared at the Gibson matriarch and angrily shook her head and squirmed in her bonds.  (This caused some of her favorite anatomy to move against/around the Symbian's phallic intruder, but she successfully ignored the distraction... more-or-less.)  There was no way she was going to grant permission for the Gibsons to use her book as source material for a screenplay... unless they first set her free and guaranteed her a ton of money to compensate her for her troubles... then she remembered that as part of the book deal Dominique Defossé was the one with the movie rights to Luxury Languishing.  Jodi would get royalties from a hypothetical film, of course... but Domi was the one who could say yes or no... and apparently she's been "persuaded" to say yes.  No fair! Jodi mentally whined.

"Just think, Jodi," Bethany purred.  "You can write another book... a book about the making of the movie based on your first book!"

"And I'm sure we can arrange for you to have a cameo as one of the spa guests being entertained in the background," Peggy grinned.  "Anyway, Luxury Languishing: The Motion Picture won't be the first production in our project queue, but it will happen, I promise."  She nodded to her daughter, who turned and strolled to a rolling cabinet off to the right.

"I just wanted you to know," Peggy told Jodi with a broad smile. 

Jodi watched as Bethany loaded her jacket pocket with... things... shiny and metallic things.  Unfortunately her body was in the way and Jodi couldn't make out any details.

"As for today," Peggy continued, "this is a 'celebratory bonding exercise,' and as you're both experienced with this sort of thing, we've decided to make it an advanced celebratory bonding exercise."  She gestured towards Jodi.  "She's all yours, Sweetpea."

"Don't worry, Grumpy," Bethany said quietly as she massaged Jodi's right nipple... causing it to engorge and grow erect, ignoring Jodi's orders to stop being a traitor and knock it off!  "These things aren't as nasty as they look," she added as she reached into her jacket pocket and produced—Jodi's green eyes popped wide in alarm—what any objective observer would call a truly nasty nipple-clamp!

The clamp was a steel ring pierced on either side by tiny screws attached to tiny rectangular pads lined with tiny steel spikes!  If the nipple of some poor hypothetical damsel was inserted inside the ring and the screws tightened, the pads would squeeze tight until the nipple in question was firmly (and no doubt painfully) in the grip of the spiked pads!

Her heart hammering, Jodi shivered, squirmed, and watched as Bethany slipped the ring over her erect nipple, started tightening the screws, and things changed from the hypothetical to the very real!  Ow!  Ow!  OWWW!!

"That's probably too tight," Bethany purred, then backed off the screws (just a tad).

Jodi continued shivering.  Her nipple was not happy!  Granted, as fearsome as the ring looked, it wasn't objectively worse than a clover-clamp, now that Bethany had loosened the screws a little—but Jodi's nipple wasn't in an objective mood and neither was she!  Jodi locked eyes with Bethany and tried to muster a truly devastating gagged scowl, but she was very much afraid it was coming off as a pathetic plea for mercy... an angrily pouting pathetic plea for mercy.

Bethany smiled (gloated), reached back into her pocket, and produced a second "nipple-torture-ring!"  And then, inevitably, Jodi's left nipple suffered the same fate as her right!

After a few more seconds of heart-rending shivering, Jodi succeeded in mustering what she was confident was an unambiguous gagged scowl... not that it did her any good.  The Gibson Gazillionaires were having way too much fun to feel guilty.  Jodi's nipples were as outraged as she was.  In fact, they were tingling with outrage.

Dominique had watched this outrageous process—the Nipple-Clamping of Poor Jodi—with interest, alarm, and sympathy, or at least that was what Jodi assumed her boss was feeling.  It was difficult to be sure given Domi's gag and the general level of angst, distress, and distraction that went with their shared predicament.

Anyway... Bethany had once again reached back into her jacket pocket and pulled out... a tangle of shiny and very thin steel or possibly silver chains and dangling hooks.  Jodi couldn't tell if it was fancy fishing tackle or some sort of weird jewelry.  Then, much to Jodi and Dominique's shared distress, Bethany began untangling the very thin steel chains and clipping its wire-thin hooks through the stirrups of Dominique's nipple-posts and over the screw-heads of Jodi's nipple-ring-clamps!

When the proverbial dust settled, all four pierced or clamped nipples were linked by an "X" of semi-taut chains converging on a small steel "gizmo" hovering in midair midway between the wide-eyed captives.  It was something like a tiny toy fishing reel with the ends of the four chains wrapped around its central drum, and the entire thing couldn't weight more than a couple of ounces; however, it was enough to weigh down the nipple-linking chains and cause them to sag... just a little... just past the horizontal.

Jodi and Dominique continued watching with dread (and Peggy with a gloating smile) as Bethany deftly used both hands to carefully, delicately grip the pair of small flanges on either side of the tiny reel and give them a slow twist in opposing directions.  The tiny drum turned, gears clicked—Tick-tick-tick—and all four chains shortened—Tick-tick-tick—stretching all four nipples!

Because of their restraints all Jodi and her boss could do was watch as this happened, of course, and thanks to their gags and collars they couldn't even make protesting noises!  The process continued—Tick-tick... tick—until their breasts just began to stretch, like their nipples!  Their bonds prevented them from leaning forward to ease the pressure!  It had their full attention, but they weren't in actual pain... yet.  Without question the chains were providing a strong incentive for both of them to remain as still as possible.  Any additional squirming and struggling on either of their parts (above the level of shivering) would tug on their nipples and breasts and probably would cause genuine suffering!  Oh, the drama!

Jodi blinked and stared at the gizmo... then lifted her gaze to her boss... who blinked and stared back.  Jodi and Dominique then focused their joint attention on the Gibsons to nakedly plead for mercy!

The Gazillionaires, who were standing side-by-side and smiling particularly evil and smug smiles, appeared to be unmoved.

"I suppose we could remove your gags so you can discuss the Luxury Languishing movie," Peggy purred, "but as I've already explained, the project is down the queue and in no way imminent.  I think the evening would be better spent by the two of you meditating and communing in silence.  So... organize your thoughts and form your questions, by all means, but we'll start hashing out the development details later, as things progress."  She then turned and nodded at her daughter.

Bethany reached into her jacket's inner pocket and produced her cellphone, tapped its screen, swiped her finger a few times, then... noting Jodi and Dominique's keen interest in what she was doing, her smile broadened.  "Oh, don't mind me," she chuckled.  "I'm just triggering the computer program controlling your, uh, seating accommodations."  She stabbed the screen a final time and returned the phone to her pocket.

"We've put a great deal of effort into this particular program in recent years," Peggy explained.  "Various of our most senior maids have assisted the programmers by volunteering to ride the Symbians as test subjects."

Jodi and Dominique shivered in their bonds.  So far, nothing had happened... meaning the Symbians hadn't done anything.  They were just something to sit on... something with phallic intruders, that is.

And then—Brrr!—the riders flinched, causing their tit-to-tit chains to quiver.  The intruders lodged in their hoo-haws had pulsed.  The vibratory event had been weak and over as soon as it started, but the pulse had definitely gotten their attention!

"The timing will appear to be random," Peggy lectured, "with extended rest periods between bouts of... modulated stimulation.  You can look forward to experiencing several orgasms, but also a great deal of frustration."

"Frustration is such a delicious entertainment," Bethany purred, " and has the virtue of being totally harmless."

"Sometimes you'll find yourself just watching as the other is stimulated," Peggy stated, "and sometimes you'll be stimulated together."

Bethany's smile broadened.  "The random timing Mother mentioned refers to the sessions themselves and the intervals between sessions, and the nipple-to-nipple connection will encourage you to remain perfectly still... no matter what's happening.  The maids really hated the nipple-clamp part of the setup."

Peggy took her daughter's hand.  "Well..."  she said after several seconds, "we'll leave you to it.  Good evening."

"Yeah," Bethany added, "good evening."

Jodi's green eyes widened again.  Good evening?  She stared at the Gibsons as they strolled to the chamber door, hand in hand.  GOOD EVENING?!

Dominique's reaction was similar: big brown eyes wide and her helplessly restrained body shivering, but otherwise she remained perfectly still.   Perfectly.  Still.

Bethany opened the door, the Gibsons crossed the threshold, Peggy closed the door... and they were gone.

Jodi stared at the back of the closed and presumably locked door, then focused on her boss.  She's gonna fire me over this, Jodi mused.  I just know it.  She also concentrated on not moving a muscle... like her boss.