|by Van ©2017
Cook was busy
as Kelly entered the kitchen. What she was actually doing,
Kelly wasn't sure, but it involved a sharp knife, a cutting
board, and some sort of leafy green vegetable that was either an
exotic form of lettuce or... something else. Kelly didn't
think it was cilantro or arugula. The supposedly
about-to-be-punished maid affected a serious expression,
shooting for fifty-percent bewilderment, fifty-percent
apprehension, and zero amusement, all the while valiantly
suppressing the smile threatening to curl her lips.
"Oh, Emily?" she asked carefully.
"Yes, Kelly?" responded, continuing to crop the... greenery.
"Mistress Wendy just told me..." She raised in eyebrow,
gazed upwards, and touched her lower lip for dramatic
effect. "What were her exact words? Oh yes.
'Tell Cook to place you in irons.' Yes, that was
it." She blinked her eyes in apparent consternation.
"What does it mean?"
Emily's sunny smile never wavered. "I suppose it means
she'd like me to place you in irons," she responded. "Half
a mo' while I finish what I'm doing."
Kelly continued blinking, but now her consternation was
more-or-less real. This was not going as
expected. Emily should be wide-eyed and flustered,
possibly in full-blown headless chicken mode, but the smiling
Brit wasn't even fazed. Her slicing and dicing hadn't
missed a beat. Also... "Uh... irons?"
Emily put down the knife, transferred the pile of green
whatever-it-was to a bowl, covered it with a kitchen towel, and
smiled. "Stainless steel, actually," she said brightly,
"with golden padlocks, of course."
"Of course," Kelly nodded vacantly, then her eyes widened.
Meanwhile, Emily strolled to a small closet, pulled a small
keyring from her pocket, unlocked the door and pulled it open,
and reached inside with both hands. Metallic clinking
sounded from within... then her hands reemerged clutching a set
of four steel cuffs—manacles, shackles, fetters, whatever—all
interconnected by tinkling, clattering lengths of medium-weight
steel chain! "This won't take long," Emily said as she
lugged the clinking hardware towards Kelly.
"Wait-what?-wait!" Kelly backpedaled as Emily
approached, but didn't make it very far.
"Hold still," Emily giggled.
"Can we talk about this?" Kelly whined as, with deft competence,
Emily closed a thick, wide, but only semi-heavy cuff around
Kelly's left wrist, then secured it with a small, gold-plated
padlock that slid into a close-fitting slot in the wall of the
cuff. "Emily!" Kelly complained, then watched as her
right wrist received similar treatment. "Hey!" She
tugged on her new bracelets and their connecting chain as Emily
knelt and—"Hey!-no!-Emily!—snapped similar cuffs around
Kelly was now wearing a full set of what she'd always thought of
as "slave chains" or "serving chains" only without what she
thought was the usual connected collar. Her wrists were
less than a foot apart, her ankles more like eighteen inches,
and a vertical chain connected the hobble- and
wrist-chains. She'd be able to walk "normally," but only
if she kept her hands at waist level. To reach higher,
she'd have to stand with her feet together, and even then her
fingertips would only just clear the level of her shoulders.
Also, Kelly found the contrast between the flush-mounted, gold
faces of the padlocks and the lightly brushed but still
chrome-bright steel of the cuffs to be aesthetically
pleasing. Classy, she thought as she turned her
wrists and gazed at the gleaming metal. The two-tone
aspect was quite attractive; however... they were chains!
And they were on her! Kelly tugged on the
wrist-cuffs, again, then focused her dismay on the smiling
cook. "Emily!" she whined.
"Silly Goose," Emily giggled, then reached out, gently cupped
Kelly's chin, and gazed into her worried green eyes.
"Don't even try and pretend you don't want to
participate in our employers' occasional bouts of slightly pervy
Kelly blushed. "Uh, yeah, but..." She rattled her
chains, for emphasis. "I can't work like this. How
am I gonna finish the high dusting in the library? If I
even try climbing the ladder and reaching out with the
duster, I'll fall and break my... something."
"Then put it off 'til tomorrow," Emily purred, still
smiling. She released Kelly's chin. "That assumes,
of course, that Mistress decides you only merit one day of
"Very funny," Kelly huffed, still blushing. "I'm gonna
tell OSHA. This has got to be against some set of
domestic workplace regulations, or something."
Emily frowned. "OSHA?" Then, her smile
returned. "Ah, yes. Back home we call them the
Health and Safety Executive, H-S-E for short."
"This is mean," Kelly pouted.
"I'm sure you did something to deserve it," Emily
giggled, leaned close, planted a kiss on Kelly's lips, then
returned to the kitchen counter. "Back to work," she
ordered. "And in future, do try not to blot your
copybook. Anyway, I have to resume preparing lunch
Kelly gave her wrist-cuffs a final, incredulous tug, then turned
and clinked, clattered, and shuffled her way from the
kitchen. Her mobility wasn't that impaired by her
new metallic accessories; however, sprinting from job to job (or
anywhere else) was now firmly out of the question. The
chains and cuffs were heavy, but not that heavy,
although Kelly realized she might feel differently by the end of
the day. That said, she was okay... for now.
One thing's for sure, Kelly thought, if I wasn't a
player in the York Castle Games after what happened
yesterday... I am now!
The rest of
Kelly's chain-encumbered workday passed... uneventfully.
On her own authority—which she was free to do even when she
hadn't been "placed in irons" on spurious charges—Kelly
rearranged the maid's work schedule so she'd be doing the
high-dusting tomorrow and the low-dusting today. A
foolproof plan, assuming Wendy intended to limit her unmerited
punishment to a single day.
Both Mistress Alice and Mistress Wendy were quite aware of her
condition, and Kelly had brief encounters with both sisters as
she went about her remaining tasks. Neither of her
employers gloated or mocked her semi-captivity. Granted,
the sisters' initial encounters with their clinking, clanking
maid were met with brief smiles (and blushes on Kelly's part),
but there were no coy or catty comments. That would have
been below the station of a super-rich mature hottie. To
the "suffering" maid it was humiliating. Okay, it was
hilarious and exactly what Kelly expected would happen.
And speaking of expectations, Kelly remained surprised that
Emily had been totally unfazed and totally ready to follow
Wendy's nefarious instructions to clamp her in irons.
Obviously, Cook played some role in the York sisters' games, but
the exact nature of that role remained unclear... other than as
keeper of the key to the closet storing the hardware required to
make the maid's workday totally miserable—or at least pretend
totally miserable. Does Emily ever allow herself
to be a bound and gagged prisoner? Kelly wondered, or
to be clamped in irons, or strapped to her bed?
Whatever Emily's role, Kelly had at least established that
Cook's position trumped that of the lowly live-in maid.
Also, Kelly asked herself more than once before bedtime,
why the hell did I just stand there and let it happen?
Why did I let Emily do this to me? Why
didn't I punch her in the face? Of course, Kelly
knew she wouldn't punch Emily's face under any
conceivable circumstances. The always smiling face in
question was just too damn cute, but the question remained: Why?
Kelly had no immediate answer.
All good things come to an end... as do semi-depraved,
semi-despicable, semi-humiliating, and semi-kinky fun
things. All too soon, meaning not soon enough—after
cleanup of the evening meal and just before bed, to be
precise—Emily produced her keyring, unlocked Kelly's "irons",
and returned them to the small closet in the kitchen.
Being too busy rubbing her "cruelly chaffed" wrists, which were
a tiny bit red but otherwise unharmed, it belatedly occurred to
the newly released prisoner that she wanted a good look inside
"Hey, wait!" Kelly gasped as she shuffled forward (forgetting
that her "cruelly chaffed" ankles were no longer hobbled.
Too late! "What else is in there?" she demanded as Emily
turned the key in the closed door's substantial deadbolt lock.
"Nosy Goose," Emily giggled as she pocketed the
keyring. "I'm sure that eventually you'll become familiar
with each and every item waiting within." She rapped her
knuckles on the locked door for emphasis. "But only under
Mistress' explicit orders."
"Which one?" Kelly pouted, "Mistress or Mistress?"
"Mistress and Mistress," Emily answered, her lips curled
in a coy, mega-cute, and very irritating smile.
"Shrivel up and die," Kelly decreed.
It didn't happen. Instead, Emily giggled and pointed to
the kitchen door that led to the back stairs and up to the
servant's level. "To bed! And feel free to use the
sauna before retiring."
"Shrivel up, die, and blow away!" Kelly reiterated (and
amplified) then dragged her sulking self from the kitchen.
"Good night to you too, Kelly!" Emily giggled as the kitchen
door swung closed. Kelly was a little tired and
sore from lugging the half-ton or so of Cruel Irons around with
her all day, so decided Emily's suggestion was a good one.
She made her way to the staff bathroom and turned on the sauna,
then went to her bedroom, undressed, reached for her robe, and
paused. Screw it! she decided, and stomped
(padded) back down the hall to the bathroom wearing nothing but
her birthday suit.
The bathroom in question, which she shared with Emily the Cruel,
was smaller than either of the baths attached to the York
sisters' bedrooms or the additional baths attached to the
generous guest suites elsewhere in the mansion, but it was more
than adequate, one might say even somewhat luxurious. She
brushed her teeth, scrubbed her face, then took a quick rinse in
the generous shower alcove. By this time the sauna wasn't
quite up to proper temperature, but Kelly decided it was close
enough. She entered the cedar-lined space, filled the
wooden bucket within and ladled water on one of the upper-tier
seats, then settled her back against the sloping backrest,
closed her eyes, and sighed.
The heat was glorious! The Servant's Sauna was
much smaller that the main sauna off the gym down below, but
plenty big for Kelly and Emily. Actually, Kelly realized,
it might hold up to eight cozy friends, but half of them would
have to be squeeze together on the "cold" seats on the lower
The heat continued feeling glorious... and Kelly's body began
sweating in response... then began really sweating in
Suddenly, she heard the sound of the shower running through the
thick, insulated and cedar-lined sauna door. The water
stopped, there was a brief pause... then the door opened,
admitting a blast of cold air and a very naked and very wet
"My, how delightfully toasty!" Emily giggled.
Kelly gave the smiling Brit the evil eye. "That is
the general idea," she drawled, "and shut up. I'm not
talking to you."
"Oh, very well," Emily responded, still smiling. "I quite
understand and I won't say a word. It was very
cruel of Mistress to require me to place you in irons and you
have every right to be resentful and upset.
Although, one might expect some degree of
understanding. As Mistress' loyal and faithful servant I
have little choice but to obey her every order, no matter how
callous or inhumane it might be. Also... pouting doesn't
"Ya know," Kelly muttered, "for somebody who's not saying a
word, you sure talk a lot."
"Silly Goose," Emily giggled.
Kelly watched as Emily wet down the opposite upper-tier seat,
then climbed up and settled against the backrest.
The dripping wet Brit was now more or less Kelly's mirror
image. They both had pixie-cuts and were what any
objective observer would call feminine, physically fit, and
having fair complexions; however, that same observer might
characterize Emily as slightly more svelte, but not by
much. The main differences between the two basking
beauties were Kelly's red hair and concomitant peach-pink skin,
Emily's blond hair and marginal tan, and Kelly's slightly more
generous breasts. Kelly's boobs were somewhat perky, but
Emily's were undeniably perky. The comely Brit
wasn't flat-chested, by any means, but while they both may have
been towards the back of the line when sweater-puppy volumes
were handed out, Emily had been behind Kelly.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Emily asked, "toiling in
chains for half a day?"
"Three-quarters of a day, actually," Kelly drawled, "and I've
never suffered a more punishing, uh, punishment in my entire
"You poor thing," Emily giggled. "How horrid!" She
jumped off her seat and used the bucket and ladle to wet the
entire bench below Kelly. "Down you come," she ordered,
patting the damp cedar. "On your belly."
"Why?" Kelly demanded.
"I'm going to give you a massage, of course," Emily giggled,
then patted the wood, again. "It'll be good for you."
"Well," Kelly groused, "you do owe me." She
carefully climbed down and reclined on the bench, face down,
rested her head on her crossed arms... then sighed in blissful
content as Emily's hands began kneading her shoulders and
gliding down her back.
Apparently, not only was Emily a bona fide master chef, she was
also an expert masseuse. Her hands were magic!
In less than a minute Kelly was totally relaxed... and trying
her best not to fall asleep. It occurred to her that she
might be able to squeeze a little gossip out of Emily (so to
speak), gossip about The York Castle Games... like exactly what
sort of restraint hardware went with the brackets mounted on the
underside of Bess' bed—which at the moment was Kelly's
bed—but... All of that could just wait. Everything
could... Just. Wait.
three days later Kelly found herself climbing out of a cab in
front of Lin Reed's studio, gallery, and residence, a
nondescript red brick building on the Lower East Side,
fulfilling her promise to pay the gorgeously dangerous
Hojōjutsu/Kinbaku mistress a visit.
All the panes of all the windows were silver, reflective
glass, but otherwise the edifice matched the other structures
in the neighborhood, all of which were repurposed and
gentrified tenements. She mounted the front steps,
noting the tasteful modern sign beside the front door, then
entered what she assumed would be the lobby. Instead,
Kelly found herself in a thirty-by-thirty foot cube of
mirrored glass broken only by the door behind her, a second
door of mirrored glass directly in front, and recessed
lighting in the mirrored ceiling. Even the floor tiles
underfoot were more-or-less reflective. There was no
furniture, hanging art, or additional signage.
Kelly took the occasion to gaze at her reflection(s) and
straighten her royal-blue sundress, flattening the minor
creases caused by the cab ride, and checked her appearance in
the mirrored... everything. Finding nothing to fault,
she crossed the lobby/hall-of-mirrors and reached for the
door's "L"-shaped handle—but just then the door opened and Lin
"Welcome, Kelly," Lin said with a warm smile, taking Kelly's
outstretched hand and giving it a firm squeeze, "and don't
worry, you look beautiful."
Kelly blushed and allowed herself to be led across the
threshold. Obviously, Lin had been watching her primp
through the door's one-way glass. "Why the mirrors?" she
"The featureless light box encourages visitors to clear their
minds before entering the gallery," Lin explained. The
smiling artist/gallery owner was wearing a very hot (in
Kelly's humble opinion) little-black-dress that really
showcased her bare arms, narrow waist, and legs up to her
mid-thighs. Her jet-black hair was pulled back in a
ponytail with that flip at the end that Kelly liked so much.
"Uh... I guess it works," Kelly sighed. She skidded to a
halt and found herself staring at the space beyond—or rather,
at the exhibits in the space beyond.
Immediately to Kelly's left a chair and some rope stood under
a spotlight. Other than the fact that the chair appeared
to be made of gunmetal-gray steel, it was a perfectly normal
straight-back chair with a solid seat, just like countless
such chairs Kelly had encountered in the course of her
waitress career. As for the rope, it was bronze, or
maybe rust-red steel... oxidized metal of some
kind. In fact, one might say it was thick, three-strand,
braided wire with a texture that made it resemble rope;
however, it was neither coiled and sitting on the chair's seat
nor was it draped over the back. In point of fact, it
was binding an invisible and/or imaginary woman!
"Wow," Kelly gasped.
Lin stood at Kelly's side and watched her examine the
And just to be clear, the chair-bound damsel-who-wasn't-there
was unquestionably a damsel. Bronze rope bound and
outlined her not-there-boobs, encircled her narrow
not-there-waist, and a crotch-rope cleaved her
not-there-pussy! Yep, Kelly reassured herself, she's
The next exhibit on the right was also an invisible damsel
bound with metal rope, and she was in a very stringent
hogtie, what Kelly considered to be a twelve-alarm
hogtie! The unfortunate damsel's wrists were pulled past
her crossed and bound ankles, her mouth was cleave-gagged by
several strands of metal rope, and additional strands caged
her head and were plaited with her long, braided, pretend hair
and tied back to her pretend big toes and feet. She was
balanced on her hypothetical stomach with her rope-harnessed
breasts and nonexistent frog-tied legs in midair. Yes,
she was in one hell of a fix and would have to be in agony...
if she was there. Lucky for her she isn't
there, Kelly thought.
The third exhibit carried forward the theme of rust-red rope
and absent damsels-in-distress. This time the
unfortunate and nonexistent maiden was lying on her back atop
a steel table with her arms at her sides and bound by yard
upon yard of rope from head to toe (including her head and
toes) as well as being lashed to the table. Her bonds
were so numerous and well-placed (as well as symmetrical and
aesthetically pleasing) that she'd be able to do little more
than wiggle... if she was there... which she wasn't.
"Uh..." Kelly tore her gaze from the table-bound invisible
maiden and focused on Lin. "How do you do that?" she
Lin smiled and gestured to a set of double doors in the rear
of the gallery. "I'll show you," she promised.
There were other exhibits. "Uh, we can come
back, right?" Kelly asked.
"Of course," Lin chuckled, took Kelly's hand, and led her
towards the doors.
double-doors led to a hallway. Directly ahead was a
staircase and to the right a glass partition wall provided a
view of a several desks, worktables, filing cabinets, computers,
printers, etc. In short, it was a well-equipped, modern
office. To their left was a series of doors in an
otherwise blank wall. First in line was a set of double
doors, like the doors behind them from the gallery. Lin
opened one of the doors and led Kelly into the space beyond.
Kelly found herself in a very large... artist's studio?
...laboratory? ...metalworking shop? ...all of the
above? Everything was neat, clean, and modern, including
the shelves lining two of the three walls and several worktables
and office-style chairs. There was a welding rig of some
sort, or at least Kelly thought it was a welding rig, as well as
a rack with dozens of different sized clamps and a second rack
supporting large spools of heavy wire. It appeared to be
the same wire as the metal "rope" binding the invisible damsels
out in the studio, but was steel-gray rather than
rust-red. There was also a long table with a desktop
computer and a bank of screens. All of that Kelly absorbed
in a glance; however, what was in the very center of the room
was more difficult to understand.
The centerpiece was a round pedestal about two feet in height
and three feet in diameter. A hefty metal arm of some sort
projected from a horizontal slot around the entire circumference
of the pedestal and supported the base of a vertical steel
pole. The top of that same pole was supported by a second
metal arm projecting from a motor mounted in the ceiling.
Kelly surmised the arms rotated in concert completely around the
pedestal and took the pole with them.
"The camera travels up and down the pole as the armatures turn,"
Lin said, "capturing whatever is on the pedestal."
Kelly frowned. "Camera?"
Lin pointed to a small steel cylinder near the bottom of the
pole. Kelly had taken it for some sort of bracket or
support clamp. "It's more-or-less a high end smartphone
camera," Lin explained, "very compact, lightweight, and
Kelly nodded. "So... you use it for what? I mean,
you said it captures stuff on the pedestal, but... what stuff?"
"Well," Lin purred, smiling at Kelly, "stuff like one of my
model or artist friends..." Her smile broadened. "Or
possibly a volunteer."
Kelly still didn't understand. "Volunteer?" she asked,
staring at the empty pedestal. "Volunteer for what?"
"I'll explain my process," Lin said, then walked to a set of
shelves and took down a large storage tub made of translucent
Kelly followed, looked inside the tub and noted several neat
bundles of nylon rope. All were of the three-strand-twist
variety, as opposed to the bundled-fibers-in-a-braided-sheath
kind, and each strand was a different neon-bright color,
specifically: lime green, hot pink, and lemon yellow.
"The model wears a blue body-suit," Lin explained, "I bind her
with the rope, the camera system scans her bound body, and an
image processing program tracks the various colors and generates
a detailed 3-D computer model. I use the resulting
measurements for reference as I bend wire and sculpt the
composition, holding things together with spot welds and a
special epoxy. Once satisfied, I powder-coat everything
and call it my final sculpture."
Kelly nodded, staring at the coils of spectacularly garish
rope. "Volunteer," she whispered under her breath.
"Thank you, Kelly," Lin said. "I was hoping you would."
Kelly's eyes popped wide. "Wait!-what?-no! I
mean..." She swallowed nervously and locked eyes with
Lin. "It was a question."
Lin continued smiling. "It didn't sound like a
question," she purred. "I have a tableau in mind and would
really appreciate your help. Please?"
"Tableau?" Kelly whispered. Her heart was hammering, but
she wasn't sure if it was from apprehension or something else,
"Now that was a question," Lin chuckled, opened a
second, much smaller storage tub, and pulled out a bundle of
royal-blue spandex. She gestured to a black curtain
between a pair of shelves across the room. "You can change
in there while I get things ready."
Kelly took the blue bundle, turned and took a step towards the
curtain, then immediately turned back to face Lin.
"What?-no! I mean... change?"
"The image processing software finds it much easier to subtract
the contours of a uniformly monochromatic object. Flesh
tones and hair colors sometimes confuse the program." Her
smile took a teasing turn. "I suppose you could
dip yourself in blue latex, but I've found my suits to be
"Oh," Kelly muttered. "That makes sense. I mean...
"Adorable," Lin chuckled, then stepped forward, lifted Kelly's
chin, and planted a kiss on the wide-eyed redhead's lips.
"You trust me, don't you, Kelly?"
"Kelly nodded. "Yeah, sure, but... volunteer?"
"I can't work without a model," Lin said quietly, "and you're
perfect for my needs. Please? I know you'll find the
experience to be very interesting."
"Interesting," Kelly whispered, then, her green eyes locked with
Lin's brown, beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. "Uh... okay...
I guess. I will get to see the rest of the gallery
at some point, right?"
Lin chuckled and kissed Kelly's lips, again. "I
promise." She gestured to the curtain, again. "Let
me know if you need help donning the suit. No
underwear. The software doesn't like panty- or bra-lines
"Who does?" Kelly said in a dazed manner, then turned and walked
towards the curtain. It's good to know I'm perfect for
her needs, she thought.
"Adorable," Lin chuckled.
Kelly blushed as she approached the curtain. Why does
everybody call me that? It's... embarrassing.
curtain was a changing room with a padded bench, a row of hooks,
a couple of hangers for clothing, and a full-length
mirror. Lin had specified nudity under the "body-suit", so
Kelly stripped to the skin and hung her sundress, bra, and
panties from the hangers, then neatly arranged her high-heeled
pumps beside the bench. Only then did she let the bright
blue spandex bundle fall open so she could examine it, her
costume-to-be as Lin's "volunteer."
It was, as Lin had said it would be, a body-suit, more-or-less a
long-sleeve leotard with attached feet, gloves, and hood.
Kelly remembered hearing such things referred to as... Zamboni
Suits? No, that isn't right. Zentai Suits? I
think that's it. Whatever the accepted
designation, this particular specimen had a zipper running up
its back. However, there was a problem: the damn thing was
Kelly frowned. "Lin?" she called out.
"Yes, dear?" Lin shouted back from the other side of the
"I think this one is too small!"
"It stretches, "Lin advised, "and its supposed to be
tight! Give it a try! And pull as hard as you need
to. The fabric is super strong."
Kelly favored the blue garment in her hands with a dubious
expression. "Whatever." She heaved a sigh, sat on
the bench, and set to work.
The suit's feet had separate spaces for her big toes, like
Japanese socks. Also, the gloves were actually
mittens. Weird, Kelly thought as she slid her left
foot down the leg and tugged and squirmed her foot into the foot
and pulled the suit up and past her left ankle, then all the way
to her knee. She did the same with her right foot, then
continued until the suit was up to her waist. Truth be
told, donning the suit was no more difficult than donning a
hefty pair of pantyhose or tights, at least so far. And
the garment did stretch. It stretched a lot.
Kelly worked her left hand, arm, and shoulder into the
suit. This was made possible by the open zipper running
down the back, of course. Her right hand, arm and shoulder
were more difficult, thanks to the slightly slippery nature of
the fabric, but she finally managed to wiggle and stretch her
way into most of the rest of the suit. She knew zipping up
the zipper on her own was a lost cause, as was stretching the
suit's attached hood over her head. She'd have to rely on
Lin to complete the, uh, enclosure.
Kelly stretched her legs, twisted her torso, flexed her arms and
smoothed her encased hands over her body and the stretched
spandex. Tight? Yes. Restrictive?
Surprisingly... not really. The suit had seams, of course,
but they were nearly invisible. Kelly gazed at herself in
the dressing room mirror. It really does look like
I've been dipped in blue latex, Kelly mused. The
lack of fingers and toes, not counting her thumbs and big toes,
was a little odd, and she still didn't know how she was going to
look in the hood. It had eye holes, but no other openings.
By the way... Camel toe and pokies? You betcha!
She turned and examined the open zipper in the mirror. It
ran from her upper butt-crack to her neck, and the fob was too
small for her to grip with her spandex-mitten-covered
fingers. She really was going to need Lin's
help. With a final look in the mirror she opened the
curtain and padded back into the studio.
Lin had been busy. A clear, vertical, cylindrical column
about six-inches in diameter was now clamped between the raised
platform and the motor assembly overhead, and Kelly could tell
it wouldn't interfere with the rotating armatures and the steel
pole supporting the camera. Also, a wheeled cart near the
pedestal held several dozen coils of the neon, tri-color rope of
Kelly continued padding forward. "Is that glass?" she
asked, pointing at the clear column with her right hand (meaning
her right flipper).
"Acrylic," Lin answered. "The camera will ignore
it." She was smiling and examining Kelly's blue
body. "I told you it would fit."
"Yeah, it fits," Kelly agreed. She turned her back.
"But I need help with the zipper and hood."
"Of course," Lin purred, "but first..."
Kelly watched as Lin picked up a three-inch roll of off-white
medical tape from the cart and used a pair of bandage scissors
to sever a six or seven inch strip. Still smiling, she
held the strip between her hands.
"Lips together," Lin ordered with a grin.
Kelly's eyes widened. "Huh?" Lin's intentions were
obvious, of course, but also unexpected. "Why?"
"I need to protect your lips," Lin explained.
"From what?" Kelly demanded.
"You'll see," Lin chuckled, then pressed the stretched strip of
tape home and smoothed it against Kelly's lower face.
"Mrrrf?" Kelly asked.
"Trust me," Lin purred. "Now, let's see about that
hood. This will be much easier than usual, thanks to your
I am such an easy mark, Kelly thought as Lin
tugged the hood over her now tape-gagged head, but I did
agree to trust her. The world disappeared behind a
blue spandex screen... then reappeared as the hood's eye-holes
slid into place and were properly aligned with careful
adjustments by Lin's strong, nimble fingers. It took more
tugging and adjustment, but soon Kelly's entire head was as
tightly and uniformly encased in blue as the rest of her
body. Kelly was relieved to find she could easily breathe
through the blue fabric. Neither nostril holes nor
panicked clawing at the skintight cranial covering were
Lin zipped up the zipper and Kelly's transformation into an
anonymous, mute, royal-blue "gynoid" with blinking green eyes
"Perfect!" Lin exclaimed, then led Kelly to the pedestal and
helped her step up. "Back against the post, please."
Kelly complied, then watched as Lin selected a coil of rope from
the cart, released its retaining hitch, doubled the rope and
found its center, formed a loop, then stepped behind and out of
"Hands behind the post," Lin ordered.
Once again, Kelly complied, but involuntarily flinched when Lin,
with quick competence, began binding her crossed wrists.
Again, Kelly's heart was thumping like crazy, if it had ever
stopped. She stared tight ahead as loop after loop of rope
tightened... were cinched several times... and a knot was tied.
This is nuts! Kelly thought as Lin stepped back into
view, selected a second, much larger coil of multi-colored rope
from the cart, and prepared it for use. She was smiling at
Kelly the entire time, and Kelly couldn't help but tug on her
wrist bonds. She could tell Lin had done her usual
competent job. Bound as she was, her fingers weren't up to
the task of touching the key knot, much less untying the damn
thing, and her fingers' spandex-flipper status only made the
already impossible task even harder. Nuts!
"This is going to take a while," Lin purred, then once again
stepped behind and out of Kelly's sight.
As rope tightened around Kelly's elbows and the acrylic post,
Kelly remembered that those had been Lin's exact words when she
started shrimp-tying Mistress Wendy in the yoga studio. What's
she gonna do to me? the blue prisoner
wondered. Also, a pesky, low-level thrill had set
up shop between Kelly's legs. That's right, her pussy had
Nuts, weird, bizarre, strange, however Kelly wanted to describe
what was happening—what she had acquiesced in letting
happen—it was too late to back out now, that was for sure.
She was on the pedestal with her back against the post and Lin
was making sure she was going to stay there!