by Van ©2021
		Chapter 5

All the Bondage Olympians agreed that Paige Livingston made a truly tasty chicken salad.  That is, all agreed except those with foam balls stuffed in their mouths and strips of Microfoam tape plastered across their lips and lower faces.  That's right, while Chelsea, Ivy, Betty, Ripley, and Paige enjoyed a pleasant lunch of Chicken Salad sandwiches, ripple-cut potato chips, and iced tea under the shade of the pool area's vine-draped pergola, they ignored Alice and Sophie, who remained semi-bikini-clad, gagged, and hogtied or ball-tied (respectively) out on the lawn!

Ripley had raised the issue of untying the contestants so they could enjoy their lunch with everyone else, but the others objected.  The Battle of the Bikini-clad Beauties was only on pause, and the issue of Bikini-stripping Bonus Points still hung in the balance.

Betty suggested they could remove the contestants gags and either take turns feeding them by hand (like bondage pit crews) or plop the contestants' share of the chicken salad on a pair of plates and let them enjoy their lunch "doggy style."

Ivy noted that the Head Umpire very much frowned on the nonessential removal and reapplication of gags, especially tape-gags, as it caused unnecessary wear and tear on the gamesters' lips.

Paige smiled and said nothing.

Chelsea grinned at her big sister and her blond teammate out on the lawn (both of whom glowered back).  "You realize they've heard every word we've said, right?"

Betty nodded.

"Just look at them," Ivy chuckled.  "If looks could kill...  Remember," she shouted towards the Bindees, "I'm the one that wanted to un-gag you!"

"Then caved at the first opportunity," Betty noted.

"You girls are terrible," Paige scolded (with a smile).  "And no gloating while an event is in progress.  You should wait until I've designated a winner and a loser and then gloat... as appropriate."

"Or wallow in defeat," Ripley purred, "as appropriate."

"I'll make a decision as to whether the game should continue and when the Bindees will enjoy their sandwiches after we eat," Paige decreed.  And with that, the not bound and gagged Olympians resumed eating, ignoring their bound and gagged teammates (for the moment).

Alice continued glowering, her go-to languishing diversion.  For some reason her laser beam stare failed to ignite her little sister's hair.

Sweet Sophie shifted from sullen, tape-gagged hostility to a heartbreaking display of dramatic suffering.  Deep, well-gagged sighs and the batting of big blue eyes were involved.

After lunch, all hands not bound, gagged, and languishing on the lawn helped cleanup the outdoor dining area and the mansion's kitchen.  It didn't take very long.

Then, with appropriate drama and gravitas, Paige decreed that the first event was over.  As for points... as neither Bindee had completely removed her opponent's bikini-top or bottom, no Bonus Points would be awarded.

The members of both teams not tape-gagged groaned and objected and the issue was discussed at great length, but the Head Umpire was adamant.  The untying of strings alone was insufficient.  No totally removed tops or bottoms?  No points!  Chelsea, Ivy, Betty, and Ripley were disappointed.  Alice and Sophie were bound and gagged.

Obviously, neither Bindee had escaped... not even a little.  So there was no instant victory for either team.

That left the issue of Style Points.  After several seconds of suspenseful consideration.  Paige announced that both Bindees had done an outstanding job of tying up their respective Bindee.  (The Bindees in question exchanged a tape-gagged look and rolled their eyes.)  "However," Paige added, "Ivy's transition from kikkou to a ladder-tie in the final layer of doubled cords and the way she integrated all of the layers together was impressive.  Also, bound toes are a plus.  I like bound toes."  She focused on Chelsea.  "You should know that, Pumpkin."

"That's what I get for being nice," Chelsea huffed.  "From now on I'll tie up every toe I get my hands on."

"No she won't," Ripley chuckled, then her smile faded and she bumped hips with her Team Captain.  "Stop pissing off the Head Umpire, you moron," she whispered in Chelsea's ear.

Chelsea pouted, but did stop complaining.

"So," Paige continued, "I award Team Alice... one point."

"One lousy point?" Betty and Ivy objected in perfect unison.

Paige shrugged.  "I said both teams did an outstanding job.  One point.  It was a very near thing."

Chelsea continued to pout, Ripley was clearly disappointed, Betty was happy, and Ivy (the Victorious Binder) grinned with highly irritating delight.  As for Alice and Sophie... they were bound, gagged, and exhausted.

Paige noticed the Bindees' pitiful state and clapped her hands.  Clap-clap!  "Commence Aftercare!"

The not bound and gagged members of both teams sprang into action.

"Aftercare" was another of those not-codified standard practices that had evolved in the course of the games.  The Bindees were consigned to the custody of the Binding Team to be released from their bonds and for the application of any required post-competitive pampering and coddling.  Paige maintained that the practice promoted goodwill between the competitors, and while the contestants did agree it promoted sportsmanship, it also gave them one last opportunity to mess with the opposing Bindee.

Ivy and Betty took custody of Sweet Sophie, while Chelsea and Ripley did the same for Alice.  Both Bindees' ankles were untied (and in the case of Alice, her big toes as well), so they were able to walk (meaning shuffle, hop, or waddle) to beach towels stretched out on opposite ends of the lawn.  Once there, more of their bonds were untied and removed.  Everyone not tape-gagged with foam balls stuffed in their mouths agreed that untying the contestants completely this early in their recuperation might lead to vaguely defined deleterious aftereffects.  The Bindees weren't consulted, of course.  In any case, both Alice and Sophie remained substantially helpless as they were callously forced down onto their respective towels.

Alice was still "sadistically" box-tied with her legs completely free.  Her bikini was removed (over her vociferous but well-muffled objections), and she was subjected to a thorough and arguably overly repetitive massage and moisturization using Lemon-Verbena lotion... until she glistened from neck to toes.  Alice stared daggers and growled through her gag as her kid sister and Ripley slathered her with lotion and worked it into her skin... all of her skin.  She also fought her bonds, kicked her legs, and thrashed and rolled on the towel as the four oily hands slid over various parts of her body.  However (for some reason), the nude Bindee's efforts did little to impede Chelsea and Ripley's oily ministrations.  Go figure.

Sophie suffered (meaning enjoyed) much the same fate, except that her cordage had been reduced to behind-the-back elbow and wrist-bonds and her lotion was scented with Geranium blossoms.  She shivered, shuddered and moaned through her gag with heart-rending distress as she endured Ivy and Betty's tender attention.  It was very pitiful... but did nothing to prevent her custodians from subjecting her innocent, helpless body to an arguably excessive floral-scented massage.

Next, the Bindees' aftercare regimens diverged.

Alice was led into the mansion to the dry sauna just off the home gym and yoga/exercise room.  Paige had been nice enough to return to the mansion and turn the sauna on at the commencement of Aftercare.  Still box-tied and tape-gagged, Alice watched as her "care-givers" removed their bikinis... then led her under the shower next to the sauna door and drenched her (and themselves) with cold water.  This did nothing to improve Alice's mood, but she did sigh with tape-gagged content when they entered the cedar-lined sauna and her moisturized, Lemon-Verbena-scented, and dripping wet body was engulfed by the wall of 190°F (88°C) air.

Chelsea used a wooden bucket to wet down an upper bench with cold water.  Then, the three Olympians settled onto the cedar bench and cuddled together (not that Alice had any choice in the matter).

After ten minutes of basking, sweating, and the occasional idle caress of Alice's semi-helpless body... the sauna door opened and Paige entered.  She was still wearing her white bikini.

"I've laid out a picnic for one in the yoga studio," she announced, then focused on Chelsea.  "Now might be a good time for Alice to enjoy her lunch.  Don't you agree?"

"Actually—Mrrmf!"

Ripley had reached across Alice's flushed, dripping, semi-bound, gagged, and naked body and had a hand clamped over Chelsea's mouth.  "We agree completely," she said with a broad smile.

"Good," Paige nodded, then... still smiling... backed out of the sauna and closed the door.

Ripley released her hand gag.  "Shall we?"

"I suppose," Chelsea conceded, and helped Ripley lead Alice from the sauna, under the shower, then on to her belated lunch.

Meanwhile, Sweet Sophie had been led to the freshwater hot tub attached to the saltwater swimming pool, and was involuntarily soaking in its bubbling, churning, 104°F (40°C) depths!  Oh the drama!  She was like a captured jungle girl or Victorian Lady being parboiled by cannibals in a giant cooking pot!  The only problem with that scenario was the cannibals in question were in the cooking pot with her and running their hands over her naked body with wanton abandon.  It was ruining her fantasy and making her grumpy... which slowly changed to wiggling, writhing arousal as her boobs and pussy received special attention.

This went on for a while... but just when Sophie was very sure that she was about to cum... Ivy and Betty's hands abruptly stopped massaging her tits and crotch!  Shivering in the wet heat, Sophie stared resentfully at her supposed caretakers while the sensations rippling through her crotch and tingling her nipples subsided. Time passed... and then, they did it again!  Meaning they recommenced their diddling massage!  And they were good at it!  Meaning they were good at frustrating her ability to cum!  The horror!  The horror!

Suddenly, Paige appeared, wearing her white bikini and carrying a tray laden with a covered plate, an insulated carafe, and an acrylic tumbler full of ice.

"Stop that, you wicked girls!" Paige scolded the members of Team Alice languidly fondling and teasing Sophie's helpless body.

Not now! Sophie silently objected.  She'd been close.  Very close.

"What?" Ivy and Betty innocently demanded in unison.

"Stop diddling Sophie and feed her," Paige ordered, then turned, carried the tray to the shade of the pergola, set it on a table, then padded back towards the mansion.

Ivy and Betty watched her go, all the while not diddling Sweet Sophie.  Paige entered the mansion through the kitchen door... and they climbed to their feet and led Sophie to the pergola.

The chicken salad was delicious... but Sophie was sure it would have been even more delicious with an orgasm appetizer.

That night all six of "Paige's Girls" slept in their own beds, or guest beds in the case of the nonresidents, and they all took the precaution of wedging chairs under their bedroom doorknobs.  Apparently, this defensive tactic was appreciated by both teams, not just Team Chelsea.  Anyway, (after "solo tension relief") all the competitors got a good night's sleep.

Morning arrived in the form of another pleasant California day, Day Two of the Bondage Olympics!

Breakfast was a rerun of Paige's bacon and eggs with all the fixings out under the pergola, only this time Alice and Sophie did the cooking.  This was yet another Bondage Olympic undeclared rule.  The previous day's Bindees got the day off.  Of course, if Paige scheduled an event that required the former Bindee's participation, they'd participate.  If not, they'd take the day off and were more-or-less spectators.  (Recuperation didn't mean they couldn't cook and clean, of course, so they did.)

Finally, breakfast was over... and it was time.  The contestants gathered around the cloth-covered bulletin board resting on the porch, there was the proverbial pregnant pause... then...  Paige flipped back the cloth.  (Paige was wearing her usual sandals, jeans, and Umpire blouse, by the way, rather than yesterday's white bikini.  Both Team Alice and Team Chelsea noted their beloved tyrant's return to more conservative attire and expressed their disappointment.  Paige smiled, but otherwise ignored her bikini-clad "Girl's" remarks.)

Anyway...

	St. Ignatius Island Bondage Olympics EVENT #2:  POSTAL ESCAPE
		●  One Binder and one Bindee will be randomly chosen from each team. ●  Each Binder will bind and gag the Bindee of the opposing team to one of     the POSTS of the poolside pergola. ●  Materials used will be of the Head Umpire's choosing. ●  The bound and gagged Bindees will then proceed to escape. ●  The first Bindee to escape wins. ●  Points will be awarded to the Binders for style and originality. ●  BONUS POINTS.  There is no provision for BONUS POINTS.

"Another simple languishing exercise," Sophie noted.  "I'm glad this is my unofficial day of rest."

Ripley shook her head.  "It all depends on the materials," she said in an aside to her blond friend.

Just then, Paige grabbed hold of the cloth covering the Materials Table and pulled it back.  "These are representative," she announced.  "Plenty of all of these materials in various sizes are available in the boxes under the table."

Sophie heaved a sigh.  "Languishing exercise," she reiterated.

Ripley also sighed.  "You're right," she conceded.

Arrayed on the table were:

          ●  The usual red foam ball and roll of Microfoam tape.  (Gagging materials.)

          ●  A plastic bag full of milky-white, plastic cable-ties.

          ●  A seven-inch-wide roll of clear plastic stretch-wrap on a hand-roller.

          ●  A fifteen-inch-wide roll of clear plastic stretch-wrap.

          ●  A two-inch-wide roll of clear, heavy-duty, plastic tape, T-REX® brand.

          ●  A two-inch-wide roll of white, heavy-duty duct-tape, T-REX® brand.

          ●  A two-inch-wide roll of white Vet-wrap.


Paige smiled and pulled the notorious six-sided die from her jeans pocket.

Ivy, Betty, Chelsea, and Ripley eyed the cube apprehensively (sort of).  Alice and Sophie smiled.  It was good to be off the hook (sort of).

Exempting the previous day's Bindees, Paige executed the required rolls with the deft precision expected of a Head Umpire at the Bondage Olympic level.  The results were...

DAY 2	Team Alice	Team Chelsea
Binder	Betty	Ripley
Bindee	Ivy	Chelsea

"The teams will plan their strategies for one hour," Paige announced.  "Then, the event will commence."

The teams huddled at opposite ends of the table, far enough apart that their whispers couldn't be overheard by their opponents, and the planning began.

Ivy did her best to adopt Ripley's Goth persona (which is difficult when wearing a lavender-purple bikini), while Chelsea became extremely grumpy.  However, neither offered any actual resistance when the time came for the Binders to do their things.  Yesterday's Bindees (Alice and Sophie, who were getting the day off) openly discussed the emotional dynamics at play, and both were openly impressed by the current Bindees' dramatic martyrdom.  This did nothing to improve Ivy and/or Chelsea's apparent moods.  Paige gave Alice and Sophie the evil eye and they stopped baiting the martyrs in question (but they did continue smiling).

Anyway, the Binders made their choices from the materials on the table (or more precisely, from the cardboard boxes under the table), the Bindees sullenly cooperated, and the Purple and Green compositions came together.  Soon, Ivy and Chelsea's backs were against two of the many gray wooden posts supporting the pergola and its lush Mandevella vines.  They were about thirty feet apart and visible from the pool, most of the yard, and every window on the back side of the mansion (as well as three separate security cameras sending image data to the mansion's server).

Both Bindees had red foam balls stuffed in their mouths and strips of Microfoam tape stretched across their lips and lower faces.  It was the same way Alice and Sophie had been gagged yesterday, and was more-or-less recognized as the Basic Gag of the Bondage Olympics.  After all, it was only Day Two.  The specter of bruised lips still loomed large.

There was another bondage practice employed by both teams in a more-or-less identical manner and without consultation.  The Binders each tore a couple of feet of 7" stretch-wrap from a roll, balled the wrap into loose balls, then required their respective Bindees to close their hands around a ball and form fists.  The fists in question were then mummified by tight, neat, overlapping layers of the same stretch-wrap, then double-mummified using layers of T-REX tape.  The only difference was that Ripley used white tape on Ivy and Betty used clear tape on Chelsea.

The result was two grumpy, bikini-clad, tape-gagged, and fist-mummified Bindees with useless fingers and hands.  And from that point forward, the teams' strategies diverged widely (sort of).  The final results of the Binders' labors were...

Ivy's butt and back were against her square post, her arms raised, and her wrists and mummified hands bound to the sides of the post just below the green leaves and red Mandevella blossoms overhead.  Ripley had used more of the white T-REX and one of the longest milky-white cable-ties.  The many layers of tape were supporting the ebony beauty's weight, and the cable-tie reinforced the wrist-bondage (and was more or less unneccessary).

This had been accomplished after Ripley "compelled" Ivy to stand on a folded beach towel.  She placed a wad of stretch-wrap between Ivy's condyles (ankle bones) to keep them from rubbing together, then bound her ankles together with more of the white tape.  She then pulled the towel out from under Ivy's feet.  This left the Team Alice Bindee at full stretch with her heels just barely resting on the flagstone floor.

The next step was to use one of the longest cable-ties to bind Ivy's already tape-bound ankles to the base of the post.  This was followed by the use of several more long cable-ties to bind Ivy to the post across her shins, above and below her knees, mid-thighs, waist, below her breasts, and above her breasts.  The ties were tight enough to dimple Ivy's dark skin, but the pressure was evenly distributed.  Ripley had used the "two finger test," sliding a pair of digits between the milky plastic and Ivy's flesh as she tightened each tie.  This allowed her to more accurately gauge the pressure.

Paige had ordered a plentiful supply of very long cable-ties (almost as if she envisioned just such a use) and plenty of the floppy things remained, a couple of dozen big plastic bags, at least.

Ripley then used a pair of "trauma shears" (more-or-less a heavy-duty pair of bandage scissors) to trim the free ends of the ties.  Paige always made sure such shears were readily available during competition.  Safety first!  (Their use by Bindees as escape aids was strictly forbidden, of course.)

There was one remaining feature to Ripley's art installation.  She selected a roll of white Vet-wrap and used it to pin the back of Ivy's tape-gagged head firmly against the post, passing several taut, tight, horizontal bands over Ivy's already tape-gagged mouth and completely around the post.  And then (smiling her wicked "Goth" smile), she covered the Vet-wrap with a layer of white T-REX tape.  "For continuity," she explained.  Ivy's visible bonds were all either white duct tape or milky white cable-ties.

Ivy stared daggers at her Binder.  Obviously, the probability that she'd be able to wiggle out of her tape and cable-tie bonds was astronomically teeny-weeny.

"One last thing," Ripley purred, knelt at Ivy's feet, and vripped a single 8" cable-tie around her Bindee's big toes, binding them together.  Ivy snipped off the tie's free end... and was done.  Sophie gave Ripley a hug and they stood side-by-side with their arms around each other, smiling at Ivy. 

Ivy did not smile back.  In fact, she continued staring daggers, and now they were of the curved, double-edged, Central Asian variety.  Unfortunately, they had no effect on Team Chelsea.

And speaking of Chelsea...

Betty had backed Team Chelsea's Captain against her square wooden post with her arms at her sides, then made sure she stayed there.  Her technique was simple, arguably the least elaborate used thus far in the competition.  She used three materials: seven-inch stretch-wrap, fifteen-inch stretch-wrap, and clear T-REX tape.

First, Betty took several tight turns of seven-inch wrap around Chelsea and the post, just above her bikini-covered boobs.  Second, she took several turns around Chelsea's mummified hands and wrists, lower tummy, hips, whatever parts of her butt that weren't squashed against the gray wood, and the post.  Third, she took turns around Chelsea's knees and the post.

Next, Betty selected the fifteen-inch roll of wrap and the real work began.  She adhered the start of the roll to the back of the post, then stretched taut, tight, overlapping layers around Chelsea and her post, from just above her breasts to just below her knees.  She did her very best to make sure there were no wrinkles or creases in the transparent layers, as would be expected of a Binder at the Olympic level.  How many layers you might ask?  Ninety-nine!  Alice kept count in a low voice.

The result of the wrapping was a translucent, skin-tight, Chelsea-shaped tube of smooth plastic with only the Bindee's tape-gagged head, shoulders, feet, and lower legs exposed to the warm/borderline-hot air.  It was either a translucent strapless and arm-less tube-dress or an incomplete wrapper (without advertising).

Betty used tight horizontal layers of T-REX tape to seal the top of the tube... more layers to seal the bottom of the tube... and even more layers across Chelsea's wrists, tummy, and the post.  From a security point of view, the final tape layers were totally unnecessary, but they did make a statement about the aesthetic value of overkill.

The Binder's pièce de résistance required three four-inch cable-ties.  She vripped one around each of Chelsea's big toes, the third between, then used a pair of bandage scissors to snip off the free ends.  Betty handed the scissors to Paige, then, standing side-by-side and hand-in-hand with Alice, gazed at her composition.

The composition in question stared back, producing imaginary daggers every bit as razor-sharp and exotic as Ivy's (but just as harmless).

Alice beamed at her helpless little sister.

Paige's smile was more-or-less generic.

Ripley and Sophie stared at their Team Captain and her predicament.  Betty had certainly made a magnificent effort, but so had Ripley.  Objectively, they had to admit there was no clear winner.  That left the matter of style points, which meant the final score was up to Paige (as always).

Betty continued gazing at Chelsea... but she wasn't smiling.

"What is it, dear?" Paige inquired.

"The bikini strings," Betty sighed.  "They're interfering with my statement."  Only one pair of Chelsea's strings were exposed, of course, the ones tied with a doubled bow at the nape of her neck.

"She's doing it on purpose," Alice huffed, nodding at her kid sister.  "Chelsea, I mean."

Paige smiled (slyly).  "It would be a pity if, while arranging her hair, you accidentally untied the strings," she purred.

"I object!" Ripley muttered.

Paige focused her Official smile on Ripley.  "On what grounds?"

Ripley heaved a sigh.  "On general principals?"

"So noted," Paige purred, then shifted her smile back to Betty.

Betty stepped forward, smiled, combed her fingers through Chelsea's tousled hair, and somehow managed to pull the doubled loop of the bikini-string bow free!  In fact, unfortunately, the strings fell completely apart!  Go figure.  Now, the jade-green strings dangled to either side of Chelsea's plastic-wrapped breasts.  "That's better," Ripley beamed, then blinked uncertainly.  "I mean... oops!"

"Yeah," Ripley muttered with a poorly suppressed smile.  "Oops."

"All right then, let the escaping begin!" Paige decreed, then smiled broadly.  "Coffee?"  The offer was for the contestants not bound to wooden posts, of course.

Everyone not gagged and bound or stretch-wrapped to wooden posts turned and padded towards the kitchen.

"If Betty gets to untie Chelsea's bikini-top," Ripley groused, "I should be allowed to tickle Ivy's armpits."

"Let it go, moron," Sophie hissed, bumping hips with her pouting teammate.

They passed through the door into the kitchen... and the two Bindees locked gazes across the thirty feet separating their posts.  Their thoughts were the same.  Escape.  Yeah.  Right.