by Van ©2017
		Chapter 3

Leah had given up trying to escape the ropes binding her body and keeping her atop the balance ball office chair.  Her upper arms were pinned to her torso and her wrists bound behind her back in a reverse-prayer box-tie, and her bent knees and ankles were lashed to the rolling frame of the chair.  Additional bands of rope were looped around her waist and the chair's minimal backrest, further anchoring her in place, but what really motivated her to sit upright and remained balanced atop the inflated ball were the ropes tied to the back of the box-tie's chest harness, looped loosely around her neck, firmly knotted around the topknot bun of her coiled hair atop her head, passed vertically up and over the rafter directly overhead, then diagonally down to one of the legs of her desk.  The ropes were taut, and if she allowed her bound body to lean to the side, it tugged on her hair.  Breathing was never an issue, thankfully.  The neck loops seemed to be simply decorative, for want of a better word.  Leah could breathe just fine.  However, whenever she tried to rest her abdominal muscles by slumping in her bonds, the ropes quickly started punishing her scalp to the point that she was once again forced upright.

The gag stifling her screams and comments was some sort of absorbent cloth rolled around something secured at the nape of her neck.  It was a cleave-gag... or a very thick bit.  She could tell her saliva was starting to soak the cloth in places.  Also, sweat was dampening parts of her yoga-pants, sports bra, and tank-top.  Her gagged face and bound body glistened with sweat.  Her captors had either turned up the heat in her office, the prolonged pose imposed by her bonds was more taxing than she otherwise felt, or both.  She'd been bound, gagged, and balanced on the ball chair for... some time.  It felt like hours, and very well might have been.

Leah was miserable, to say the least—miserable and worried about what was happening.  Kate or one or more of their employees hadn't yet discovered and rescued her, nor had the police.  So...  What the hell is happening?  She squirmed in her bonds for what felt like the millionth time... and persevered.

Suddenly, her office door opened and her captors appeared, still dressed in the same skintight black outfits and face-masking hoods as before.  Only their blue eyes were visible.

"Beautiful," Dr. B sighed, her arms crossed over her chest as she gazed at Leah's bound and gagged body.

Leah glared back at her captors, mustering as much defiance as she could manage, given the circumstances.

Suki reached into a holster-like pouch of her utility belt and produced a pair of bandage scissors.  "I know how to make her even more beautiful," she purred, working the scissors as she gazed at Leah.

The snick-snick-snick of the scissors was the only sound in the office.

"Well," Dr. B said finally, "don't keep the poor thing in suspense."

"So to speak," Suki giggled, then stepped behind the chair and out of Leah's limited field of vision.

Leah felt the laces of her right sneaker being untied... then the shoe was pulled from her foot... followed by the anklet.  Removal of her left sneaker and anklet was next.  Leah wiggled her toes, almost reflexively.

"Oh, look at those little piggies," Suki giggled.

"Thinking of sucking on a few?" Dr. B drawled.

"Actually, I was thinkin' of tyin' 'em to somethin',"  Suki giggled, then clacked the scissors together a few more times.  "Maybe later."

Leah tugged on her bonds in frustration and humiliation.  "Mrrrf!"  The cool steel of the blunt side of the scissors was gliding against her skin as her captor sliced through the right leg of her stretch pants!  Leah continued squirming and mewling through her thick, adsorbent gag as snip followed snip.

Suki took her time, deepening the cut and working her way up Leah's leg until stopped by the ropes binding her knees.  She made a transverse cut completely around Leah's leg, just below her knee and tugging the cloth away from the chair's balance ball as required.  She then tugged the cloth above the knee free from the ropes, and continued slicing along the outside seam, all the way up to the waistband.  Next, she turned her attention to Leah's left leg... and soon the yoga pants were tattered history.

Leah glared at the taller of her two captors, the one without the scissors.  Needless to say, being bound, gagged, and stripped was humiliating... and now the scissors were slicing through her tank top.  She continued glaring at the tall hooded figure as the short hooded figure continued slicing and tugging the cloth free of the box-tie ropes, as required.  All too soon, Leah's costume was reduced to her thong and sports bra.  The process continued to completion... and she was nude, except for her rope bonds and the thick, mouth-filling gag.

The shorter captor rejoined the taller and once again they were side by side.  Were they smiling behind their hoods?  Leah was sure of it, and it was infuriating... and humiliating.  She continued to glare.

"Beautiful," Dr. B sighed.

"Beautiful," Suki agreed.

"Toes?" Dr. B inquired.

Suki shrugged.  "Maybe later."

The captors turned and left the office.  Leah remained behind, exactly as she'd been before—bound, gagged, and balanced on the balance-ball—with the exception that her clothes were gone.  Leah was nude—bound, gagged, and nude.

Dr. B and Suki strolled into the locker room.  At the moment, the four padlocked lockers holding Scout, Erin, Daphne, and Opal were neither rattling nor shaking.  Apparently, the occupants had independently come to the conclusion that they weren't going to wiggle and writhe their ways out of their plastic restraints or their close metal confinements.  If they were working on escape plans other than bursting their bonds and rupturing their locked lockers by brute force, they were doing it silently.

"First in first out?" Suki suggested.

"It's your operation," Dr. B noted.

"So it is," Suki giggled.  "First in first out."  She unlocked the first locker in line, the one with "Conroy" hand-printed on the card in the small holder on the outside of the door.  She opened the door and Scout blinked in the sudden light.  Her wrists were still plasticuffed behind her back and her ankles vripped together with a plastic cable-tie.  The rolled, super-absorbent towel cleave-gagging her mouth was stained with absorbed saliva, her brown eyes were wide, and Scout panted through flaring nostrils and her breasts heaved, just a little.  She shifted her gaze from kidnapper to kidnapper and was obviously a little scared (or possibly more than a little scared).

"Don't worry, sweetie," Suki said as Dr. B lifted the squirming brunette from the locker and planted her on her sneaker-clad feet.  "We're just gonna play a fun game.  Nobody's gonna get hurt."

"We promise," Dr. B said as she took hold of Scout's ponytail and used it to hold her bound, gagged, and struggling body more or less upright.

"Mrrrrk!" Scout complained as Suki produced her bandage scissors, gave them a couple of ominous clacks, then sliced the shoulder straps of Scout's gray (with black & white accents) sports bra... sliced it open in the front, between her breasts... then pulled it free, exposing Scout's firm, pale breasts.

"Nice," Suki said as Scout continued squirming and mewling.

"Indeed," Dr. B agreed.

Suki went back to work, kneeling at Scout's feet and slicing her way up the outside seam of the right leg of Scout's gray (with black & white accents) stretch-pants.  The left leg followed... and Scout's costume was reduced to a pink thong, but not for long.  Snip followed snip over Scout's hips, the thong was jerked away, and she was nude, except for her sneakers and anklets.

"Mrrrmpfh!" Scout whined as the short kidnapper with the nasty scissors gathered the various ruined tatters of her former clothing and deposited them in the covered laundry hamper already holding the Harper-Ricci employees' various purses and jackets.  "MRF!" she complained as the tall kidnapper hefted her onto her right shoulder in a fireman's carry.  The sneakers and anklets were pulled from her bound feet, and now she was completely nude!

"Nice skin," Dr. B said.  She was resting her right gloved hand on Scout's left butt cheek.  Scout continued squirming and Beebe gave the cheek in question a businesslike slap.  "Settle down, Miss Conroy," she ordered.

"Mrrrf!" Scout complained (whined), but she stopped struggling.

"A very nice shade of pale-pink," Suki said as she dropped Scout's sneakers and anklets in the hamper, "with just a hint of Mediterranean olive."

"Just a hint," Dr. B agreed, then turned and headed for the door.

"Hold on," Suki objected as she closed Scout's locker and returned the padlock to a pouch on her utility belt.  She caught up with Dr. B and her naked, bound, and gagged burden, then pulled the elastic scrunchie from Scout's hair, freeing the naked captive's long, brown locks from its former ponytail.  She hurried back to the hamper, dropped the scrunchie inside, then scampered after her boss/lover and their first target.

Behind in the locker room, all was quiet for several seconds.  Then, one of the remaining occupied lockers rattled... followed by the other two.  Erin, Daphne, and Opal might not have been able to follow every nuance of what had happened to Scout from inside their vertical, coffin-sized prisons, but between the clacking of the scissors and their captors' banter, they'd worked it out.

Scout had been stripped naked!  And now she was being carried someplace... for some purpose... and the short kidnapper had talked about a "fun game"!  Balanced on her stomach on the tall kidnapper's shoulder with her bound feet to the front and her gagged head to the rear, Scout was having minor difficulty following exactly where she was being carried.  Of course, she knew the entire Harper-Ricci Day Spa and Tearoom like the back of her hand, public and private spaces, but her tousled hair was draped over her head, her heart was hammering, and she was a little scared.  Okay, she was terrified, but she wasn't panicked.

Near-silent step followed near-silent step, with the shorter kidnapper striding in their wake.  Then, they took a turn and entered one of the yoga studios.  Scout was heaved off the tall kidnapper's shoulder—"Mrrrk!"—and settled to the padded floor.  She shook the hair from her gagged face and watched as the short kidnapper zipped open a black nylon duffel bag and began extracting neat coils of brown rope.  "Mrrrf?"

"Kimono-chest-harness anchoring a wrists to ankles hogtie-frog-tie, with full suspension," Suki announced.

"I read and approved your plan," Dr. B reminded her sidekick and, if all continued going well, soon to be partner.

"Oh, that's right, you did," Suki giggled.  "Well, no rest for the wicked."  She sorted the coils of rope and set to work.

Whatever the 'Kimono-chest-harness' and all the rest meant, Scout did her best to not make it easy for her captors, but bound as she was and with it being two against one, and the one being naked, bound, and gagged, resistance was futile.

Suki rolled Scout onto her stomach, then knelt over her squirming body and settled her weight on her rump and waist.  Then, she selected a coil of rope, released its retaining hitch, doubled the rope, and found its center.  With Dr. B's help, in the form of lifting Scout's upper body off the mat as required, Suki proceeded to loop rope around Scout's upper arms and torso, above her breasts, then through her armpits to yoke her shoulders.  She pulled the long free ends of the rope free of the nexus of rope between Scout's shoulder blades, then severed the plasticuffs binding Scout's wrists and the cable-tie binding her ankles.

Scout struggled with renewed vigor, but her captors proved expert in the physical handling of a squirming prisoner.  It took effort on her kidnapper's part, but all too soon Scout found her ankles bound to their respective wrists and to their respective upper thighs.  She supposed it was a form of hogtie, but it left her free to splay her bent knees apart if she cared to, which she most certainly did not.  And then, all doubt concerning her hogtied status was eliminated when the short kidnapper used the free ends from the rope harness to pull her shoulders back, arch her back, and lash her ankles to her wrists!

"Mrmpfh!" Scout complained as the short kidnapper gathered her hair into a ponytail, doubled it, knotted most of it together in a tangled bun, then bound it with another coil of doubled rope.  More rope was deployed and multiple strands looped around her torso, under her breasts.  Her captors used the ladder the spa employees normally used to change burned out light-bulbs or dust cobwebs from the rafters to pass the ends of the various ropes over the rafters.  Then, working together, they hauled Scout's bound body into the air!

"Mrrrf!"  Scout found herself face down and floating or hovering or dangling from three doubled strands of rope, the first around her ankles and wrists, the second around her torso and under her breasts, and the third from her hair.  She could wiggle and writhe a little, as well as open her splayed legs a little, but mostly, she just... dangled.  "Mrrrf!"

"Not very elaborate," Dr. B noted, "but that's not a criticism."

"I know what ya mean," Suki responded.  "Sometimes less is more... to coin a phrase."

Less is more? Scout thought.  Is she kidding me?

"Every now and then it's nice to give them something to work with," Dr. B continued, "something that makes them think there's real hope they're gonna squirm free."

Suki leaned close, went up on her toes, and whispered in Dr. B's ear.  "Even though we know their situations are hopeless.  Even though we know they can't possibly reach any of the key knots."

"Beautiful," Dr. B sighed, gazing at Scout.

"Beautiful as she struggles," Suki agreed.

The kidnappers watched Scout wiggle and squirm, seeking a weakness, any weakness, in her bonds...  They then spun on their heels and left the yoga studio.

From her suspended position Scout could turn her head just enough to see the open duffel bag next to the ladder.  It still held several coils of brown rope.

Erin heard the sound of shuffling feet.  The kidnappers were returning to the locker room!  The key turned in the padlock securing her locker, the padlock was removed, and the door flew open!  Erin shook her ginger hair from her gagged face and blinked at the black-clad, hooded duo.

"I like redheads," Suki said, reaching out and gently stroking the side of Erin's gagged face with the back of her gloved right hand.

"I know," Dr. B stated.  "You like the way their skin marks under the whip."

"I like the way all pale skin marks under the whip," Suki purred, "but I especially like the way the zillions of teeny-tiny little orange hairs add that peachy hue to their complexions."

"Mrrrm?"  Now Erin was blinking back tears.

"Oh, now look what ya did with yer nasty talk about whips," Suki admonished her boss.  "Ya frightened her."

"Yes, I frightened her," Dr. B drawled as she lifted Erin from inside the locker and planted her on her sneaker-clad feet on the locker room floor.  As she'd done with Scout, she held the bound and gagged prisoner by the hair while Suki readied her bandage scissors.  "Attention all bound and gagged damsels within the sound of my voice!" Dr. B announced with greatly increased volume.  "No damsels will be harmed in the making of this, uh, artistic installation!  There will be no whippings, piercings, brandings, etc.  You have my word."

"She ain't lyin'!" Suki added, then stroked Erin's face, once again.  "There," she said, locking eyes with the still teary-eyed ginger, "feelin' better?"  She didn't wait for an answer, gagged or otherwise, but knelt and began slicing up the outside seam of the left leg of Erin's green, calf-length stretch-pants.

A tear dripped down Erin's flushed cheek and was absorbed by her super-absorbent gag.  She did not feel better... not much, anyway.

Suki continued the task of removing Erin's stretch-pants by slicing up her right leg... then pulling the ruined garment away.  "Oh look, legs," she giggled, then snipped the stretched fabric of Erin's bikini-briefs from over her hips, left and right, and snatched the severed panties away.  "And just look at those ginger curlies!" she sighed.  "I knew she was the real McCoy."

Erin blushed in embarrassment.  She shaved her upper thighs and kept her pubic hair neatly trimmed, and although she'd briefly flirted with the idea of getting herself a Brazilian, her bush was triangular and... natural... more or less.

Dr. B rolled her eyes.  "Are you seriously telling me you had anything even approaching the slightest inkling of an actual doubt that this one was anything but a genuine redhead?"

"No, silly," Suki giggled.  "Anyone can tell at a glance that she's the gingerest of gingers.  I'm just glad she's not one of them shavers."

Erin's salmon-pink sports bra surrendered to Suki's scissors.

"Nice," Suki sighed.  "Perky."

"Perky and conical," Dr. B agreed.

"Conical-ish," Suki amended.  "They got volume.  Not much, but they got volume."

They were referencing Erin's modest breasts, of course, which were, by any objective standard, both perky and somewhat conical.

"Pale skin and nearly-as-pale areolas," Suki noted.  "Ya gotta take a real close look to tell where the boob-skin ends and the aureolas begin."  She reached out and cupped Erin's left breast.  "A real close look."

"I prefer the more Latinate plural of 'aureolae'," Dr. B chuckled.  Her right hand still gripping Erin's ginger hair, she wrapped her left arm around the squirming redhead's waist and lifted her off her sneaker-clad and ankle-bound feet.  "Shoes," she ordered.

"Shoes," Suki agreed, then released Erin's breast, knelt, released the laces of the captive's sneakers and plucked them and the underlying anklets from Erin's pale feet.  "More nice little piggies," she sighed as she gathered Erin's former costume and, together with the sneakers and anklets, added it all to the laundry hamper.

Dr. B hefted Erin's bound, gagged, and now completely nude body onto her shoulder, spun on her heel, and left the locker room.  Suki followed.

"Mrrrf!" the angry and well-muffled voice of Daphne Hoyle called from the third locker.

"Patience, please!" Suki called back over her shoulder.  "We'll be back for you shortly!  Wait yer turn!"

They made their way to the yoga room to find the hogtied Scout still dangling from the ceiling.  This was a surprise for Erin, of course, so when Dr. B planted her on her bare feet, the bound, gagged, and nude captive shook her ginger hair from her gagged face—"Mrrrk!"—her green eyes popped wide in alarm.

"Don't worry," Suki whispered in Erin's ear.  "We take great care engineering one of our 'dangling damsel set pieces'.  Your friend isn't in pain.  She ain't happy, but she's not in pain."

"And neither will you be," Dr. B said as, once again, she grabbed a handful of Erin's hair.  "You'll be a good girl, won't you?"

"Mrrrm!"  Erin squirmed and wiggled, tugging on her bound wrists and grimacing as the tall kidnapper tugged her scalp.

"Let me make it easy for her," Suki giggled, walked over to Scout, and cupped both of the hanging captive's hanging breasts in her gloved hands.  "I have a wicked pair of steel clover-clamps in a side-pocket of that duffle," she said nodding her hooded head at the duffle bag next to the spa's ladder.  "You know what clover-clamps are, don't ya?  Nipple-clamps that tighten when you pull on the connecting chain?"  She used her thumbs and forefingers to gently pinch Scout's nipples.  "Give us any trouble and they'll go right here."

Scout winced and whined through her gag.

"Nrrr!"  Once again, Erin's eyes were damp.

"Give us more trouble," Suki continued, "and I'll add a weight to the connecting chain... and another weight every time you resist.  Will you be a good girl, Miss Rafferty?"

A tear dripped down Erin's left cheek and she nodded her gagged head as best Dr. B's grip in her hair would allow.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Suki giggled, then released Scout's nipples, strolled to the open duffel, and extracted a coil of brown rope.

Blinking back tears, Erin watched the shorter kidnapper stroll in her direction with the coil, releasing its retaining hitch and preparing it for use.

Suki set to work, and while Erin didn't exactly cooperate, neither did she actively resist.  Soon, she was free of her former plasticuff and cable-tie wrist and ankle bonds, although she was still gagged by the absorbent towel rolled around a cable-tie and cleave-gagging her mouth.  Taking her former plastic bonds' place, multiple strands of rope bound her wrists together in front and her ankles together.  Also, thanks to Suki's "encouragement" and with Dr. B's assistance, she found herself bent forward at the waist in the pike position with her breasts squashed against her thighs and her ankle and wrists bonds lashed together.

Shortly thereafter, she was dangling from the rafters, still in the pike position with her back horizontal and her bound hands, fluttering fingers, bound feet, and wiggling toes pointing at the floor.  She was suspended from three vertical, doubled strands of rope looped several times around her lower back, waist, and upper thighs—her upper back and lower thighs—and knotted in her hair.  Her weight was evenly distributed, but (no doubt like Scout), she wasn't exactly what she could call happy; however (probably also no doubt like Scout), Erin had to admit she wasn't in actual pain... yet.

"And then there were two," Suki purred.

"Indeed," Dr. B chuckled.

The two kidnappers gazed at their dangling prey for several seconds... then turned and strolled away.

Erin tugged on her bound wrists, then turned her gaze to her fellow captive.

Scout gazed back... and that was the extent of their exchange.

Daphne carefully considered her options as she waited for the kidnappers to return—and she had absolutely no doubt whatsoever that they would return—and that she would be next—whatever being next might entail.

In any case, she intended to fight, and Daphne knew how to fight.  Mixed Martial Arts was part of her regular workout routine.  Her primary teaching responsibilities were aerobics, strength, and flexibility classes, but Daphne Hoyle knew how to take care of herself.  The problem was, of course, that the plasticuffs binding her wrists behind her back and the cable-tie binding her ankles together would put a serious cramp in her fighting style.  The gag wasn't as much of a problem, although it did remove biting from her defensive repertoire.  And then there was the disadvantage imposed by her current location: locked inside her locker.

Daphne decided her best course of action was to let herself be removed from the locker without resistance, then throw her weight back, lift her bound feet, and plant the best kick she could manage on the short kidnapper's chin or solar plexus.  Then, she'd play things by ear—meaning she'd probably get thrown to the floor, sat upon, and her captors would do whatever it was they intended to do to her in the first place, only now with minimal interference on Daphne's part.

And as for what her now angry kidnappers would do after dealing with her futile resistance—even from inside her locker Opal had been able to follow what had happened to Scout and Erin when they were taken from their lockers.  Clacking scissors plus gagged complaints plus admiring comments about her friends' skin and physical attributes equals being stripped naked... followed by being carried away.

Daphne's heart was pounding and an icy lump had formed in her stomach, but she resolved to fight—even if her situation was hopeless—even if all she accomplished was making her captors cheesed off.

Finally, Daphne heard footsteps returning to the locker room, her locker was unlocked, and the door opened.  "Mrrrrf!" she growled through her gag, glaring at her black-clad and hooded kidnappers.  Feigning fear might have been a better tactic, but Daphne was barking mad!

"She really is a feisty one," Suki said.  "I like feisty ones."

"Especially when they're already bound and gagged and can't give you a black eye," Dr. B purred as she leaned into the locker.

Daphne's moment of truth (meaning her opportunity to attempt her futile gesture) had arrived.  She readied herself to he lifted from the locker—"Mrrrk?"—then her eyes popped wide in surprise.  Instead of lifting her off her feet, the tall kidnapper had pinned her against the back of the locker and jabbed a needle in the side of her neck!

"There's a time for rolling around on the locker room floor and a time for taking the easy way out," Dr. B purred.

Daphne blinked as she tugged on her bonds.  Obviously, she'd been given an injection of some sort and—her eyes rolled up in her head and her body went limp.

"That's cheating, isn't it?" Suki inquired as Dr. B lifted Daphne's unconscious form from inside the locker and laid her on the floor.

"Oh, certainly," Dr. B agreed.  "I don't feel like wrestling.  So sue me."

"I'd have to hire a lawyer," Suki said as she pulled out her scissors, "or kidnap one."  She knelt over Daphne's limp, bound, and gagged body, and set to work.

Dr. B watched as Suki removed Daphne's sneakers, then her anklets, then snipped and sliced her way through Daphne's sleeveless, black, full-length leotard.

"Excellent muscle tone and definition," Dr. B stated.

"And another pale complexion," Suki sighed, "not that I'm complaining."

Dr. B lifted Daphne onto her shoulder.

"You wanna do this one?" Suki asked as she removed Daphne's thong, "by which I mean the binding.  I hate hogging all the fun."

"So kind," Dr. B chuckled as Suki gathered Daphne's leotard, thong, shoes, and anklets and added them to the growing pile of sneakers, ruined clothing, purses, and jackets in the laundry hamper.

Cleanup mission accomplished, Suki slapped the front of the fourth locker, the one containing the remaining clothed bound and gagged employee-prisoner.  "How ya doin' in there, Miss Hanover?" she inquired.

"Mrrrf!" Opal yelped through her gag in surprise.

"I have some good news and some bad news," Suki announced, obviously for Opal's benefit.  "The good news is we won't be back for you for some time.  The bad news is... we won't be back for you for some time.  See-ya!"  She spun on her heel and left the locker room.

"You can be a real stinker at times, you know that?" Dr.B inquired as she followed Suki with her naked, bound, gagged, and unconscious burden.

Daphne opened her eyes... and blinked.  She was naked, gagged as before, and dangling from a rafter by her wrists and ankles, bent at the waist in a jackknife crunch!  "Mrrrf!" she complained.  Not only had her clothing status, location, and position changed, but her plastic bonds had been replaced by strands of brown rope, and her new bonds were well-crafted.  Neat, well-cinched bands encircled her wrists and ankles, evenly distributing the pressure of her weight, and her head was supported by rope knotted in her hair.  And if there were any key knots, they were nowhere in sight.  She groped with her fingers and encountered nothing even remotely resembling an exploitable weakness in her bonds.

Her coworkers didn't know it, but Daphne knew her way around rope.  She had experience with Bondage Meditation, the practice of relaxing while restrained, usually with rope.  Daphne had decided to leave that particular expertise off her resume when she'd applied for a position at the Harper-Ricci Day Spa and Tearoom.  Some employers considered Bondage Meditation to be a little kinky.  Anyway, in Daphne's experienced opinion, her kidnappers knew what they were doing.  Aside from the minor stress of her hanging condition and crunched position, she was okay... if naked bondage at the hands of kidnappers with unknown intentions could be reasonably characterized as "okay."

Satisfied that she was helpless and was going to stay that way until released, Daphne began looking around, realized she was in one of the yoga studios, and—"Mrrrk?"—was not alone. 

Scout was nearby—naked, bound in what appeared to be an expertly applied hogtie—and suspended face down by three doubled strands of the same brown rope binding and suspending Daphne herself.

And slightly further away was Erin, bound with more brown rope and in a similar position to Daphne's, dangling from ropes around her thighs, torso and hair and with her bound wrists and ankles pointing down, as opposed to dangling with her bound wrists and ankles pointing up, like Daphne.

The trio locked eyes, squirmed in their bonds, and mewled through their gags.

"Mrrrpfh!"

"Mrrrlf!"

"Mmmmf!"

The "conversation" was no more informative or productive than it had been from inside their steel prisons back in the locker room.

Three Dangling Damsels, by Jeff Fairbourn  Thanks Jeff! [Click to see BIG, full-size image.]