by Van ©2022
		Chapter 3

The second full day of Eliza and Tippi's cunning plan to produce a blog about Coco Vespini and her alleged Art dawned.  Coco released Eliza from her medical restraints, Pepper released Tippi from her soft cotton clothesline bonds, and the girls padded to the bathroom to conduct their morning toilettes (and compare notes).

"Rope-marks," Eliza noted, frowning at the reddish indentations on Tippi's skin as they padded towards the showers.

"Pepper used soft cotton clothesline," Tippi confirmed, "and tied me in a box-tie, crossed-ankle-tie, and hogtie, but not too tight.  None of it was especially tight.  She also tethered me to the bed, for safety's sake, but not tight, like I said.  I had plenty of wiggle room.  She was... nice."

"Nice," Eliza huffed.  "I get lashed with a million miles of paracord from head-to-toe and you get a wimpy little box-tie."

"Coco did that to you again?" Tippi gasped, then frowned.  "Wait.  You don't have any cord-marks."  She took hold of Eliza's left hand and pulled it close.  "You don't even have wrist marks."

Eliza jerked her hand away.  "Let go!  I meant the first night.  And when did you become such a bondage expert?  'Box-tie.'  'Crossed-ankle-tie.'  You told me you were a complete newbie."

Tippi began soaping herself.  "I am, like you.  Pepper taught me, and... shut up!"  She handed the soap to Eliza, who grinned and began soaping herself.  "So," Tippi inquired, "what did she do to you last night if it wasn't rope or cord?"

Eliza's scowl returned.  "Medical restraints.  Padded leather and locking buckles; but not the fancy new, infinitely adjustable stuff with magnetic locks.  Old school."

A plastic bottle labeled "SHAMPOO" had been added to the institutional bathroom supplies, along with hairbrushes, combs, toothbrushes, and tubes of toothpaste.  Apparently, the Vespini sisters weren't worried about their "patients" using toiletry products to harm themselves (or escape).  Tippi was using a dab of shampoo to work up a lather in her short brown hair.  She handed the bottle to Eliza and she did the same with her slightly shorter blond hair.

"Pepper seems to be going a lot easier on you than Coco is on me," Eliza observed.

Seconds passed before Tippi answered.  "On the other hand, medical restraints are pretty easy.  Not to escape from, I imagine, but... nicer than cord."

"I suppose," Eliza conceded.

Having finished rinsing their now clean bodies, the girls turned off the showers and started drying themselves with fluffy white towels.

"What do you suppose they're gonna do to us today?" Tippi asked as she gently brushed out her towel-dried-but-still-slightly-damp pageboy.

"How the bloody hell should I know?" Eliza huffed, then heaved a sigh and smiled at Tippi in the mirror.  "Sorry.  Nervous."

Tippi chuckled.  "You're nervous?  Hah!"  She handed the brush to Eliza.  "You need to get that cut," she said, running her fingers through Eliza's damp blond locks.  "And it you're gonna let it grow, you still need a trim, to even it out."

"Stop!" Eliza ordered, swatting Tippi's hand away.  "It's fine the way it is."

Tippi wasn't offended.  "Whatever," she grinned, wrapped her damp towel around her torso, and headed for her bedroom to see what sort of uniform-of-the-day would be laid out on her bed and waiting.

Eliza finished "fixing" her hair and followed.  However, she didn't bother wrapping her towel.  Eliza did a casual streak.  After all, there was nobody there but Tippi.

The girls' "uniforms" were black spandex and identical, like yesterday; however, today they were somewhat skimpier.  The bottoms were bicycle-shorts, rather than capri-pants, and the tops were halter-tops, instead of tank-tops, thus leaving their midriffs completely exposed.  Like yesterday, the spandex was thin and skintight (revealing camel-toes and pokies).

After a delicious breakfast, Eliza was assigned laundry duty while Tippi used an iPad to help Pepper compile a shopping list in the large pantry off the kitchen.  Eliza went from room to room gathering dirty clothes and towels and taking them to the basement, where Coco showed her how to use the machines.  Meanwhile, Tippi dutifully tapped the virtual keys of an iPad's shopping list app.

Around mid-morning, Daily Exercise Hour happened in the home gym, and all four of the mansion's residents participated.  They were naked, of course (as per household regulations), and after preliminary stretching and warmup exercises, each made a complete circuit of the entire gym, moving from machine to machine.  Stationary-bike, universal-resistance-machine, running-machine, stair-climber, rowing-machine—everybody got to use them all.  There was a timer, regulated by Coco, that sounded a gong when it was time to change machines.  And after a built-in interval to allow stretching and wiping down the pads, the starting gong would sound and exercise would resume.

It was an arduous workout, but the girls survived.  The group session in the dry sauna afterwards helped.  Then, still naked, flushed, and sweaty, Coco took Eliza by the hand and led her away.  Pepper took Tippi's hand and led her away as well.

Pepper's destination was her bedroom, which Tippi had only seen once before, when the girls received their initial tour of the mansion's living spaces, meaning the rooms not locked away behind closed doors and/or iron gates.

"We'll share the shower to save time," Pepper announced, then led Tippi into the bedroom's large, luxuriously appointed, attached bath.

Tippi had no choice.  Her hand was in Pepper's firm grasp.  The bathroom had the usual washbasin, mirror, and commode, all high-end and fancy, of course, as well as a soaking tub and a very spacious shower-alcove with more than enough room for two.  "I-I d-don't mind if you go first," Tippi stammered.

"Don't be silly, darling," Pepper purred.  "That would waste water.  And we can scrub each other's backs."

Tippi blinked in apprehension as Pepper turned on the water.  Pepper had a point.  Water conservation was a worthy cause, and it would be rude to make a scene.

Anyway, the shower happened, backs were scrubbed, as were the rest of their anatomies... and Tippi's "ordeal" was over.  They helped each other towel dry as well.  Pepper insisted.  Next, they shared a hand-drier, brush, and comb to deal with their hair.

Back in the main bedroom, Pepper ordered Tippi to stand by the bed and wait, then disappeared into what appeared to be a spacious walk-in closet.  Tippi followed her orders and waited patiently, as well as somewhat nervously, for Pepper to reappear.  Seconds turned into minutes... and then...

"Such a good girl," Pepper cooed as she breezed back into the bedroom.  She was wearing a very pretty (and no doubt expensive) wrap-dress in a floral print on a black background, as well as a pair of black pumps, and was carrying a bundle of clothes, which she tossed on the bed.  "These are for you."

Tippi gazed at the clothes for a couple of seconds, then started sorting them out.  They were a pleated skirt in a navy, maroon, and white tartan plaid, a white cotton short-sleeve blouse, and a set of plain black underwear.  Uh...  None of it would have been Tippi's first choice, but she figured she might as well try everything on.  The panties were very French-cut and disturbingly thong-like, and the bra was strapless (of the bandeau variety).  Also, its spandex cups were tight and thin enough to reveal a pair of pokies.  The skirt's lower hem came to her mid-thighs, and together with the blouse, presented more than a strong hint of some sort of schoolgirl uniform.

"Oh, you're adorable," Pepper cooed, took Tippi's hand, and led her into the closet.

It was, indeed, a humongous walk-in closet, as Tippi had suspected, and was crammed with enough designer clothes to dress a small army.  Pepper led Tippi to the very back, where a triptych of full-length mirrors presented her with her new outfit.

Tippi blushed.  "I-I look like a... schoolgirl." she objected.

"Yes, you do," Pepper agreed, then plunked Tippi down on a comfortably padded stool.  "Here," she said, and handed Tippi a pair of black knee-socks... followed by a pair of black loafers.

"Do I have to?" Tippi whined.

Pepper smiled and nodded.

Tippi heaved a sigh, donned the socks, followed by the loafers.  She then stood and once again gazed at herself in the mirrors.

"Perfect," Pepper gushed, then turned and started rummaging in a drawer of a built-in cabinet.

Tippi was still gazing at her reflections.  She was now the very picture of a stereotypical schoolgirl of the Catholic or prep school variety, but not Japanese-middle-school or Hogwarts... or maybe kind of Hogwarts.   She had to admit it was a rather cute look.  Nothing she'd ever choose on her own, but... cute.  Also—"Hey!"

Pepper had returned, pulled Tippi's hands behind her back, and—Click-k-k-k!  Click-k-k-k!—was tightening a pair of police handcuffs around her wrists!

"Hey!" Tippi reiterated, then twisted her wrists and tugged on the cuffs.  She did a half-turn to the right so she could see her new accessories in the mirrors.  The cuffs were hinged, rather than joined by a short chain, and they were black, rather than shiny steel.

"Hush, darling," Pepper scolded.  She then rested her chin on Tippi's shoulder and they both gazed into the mirrors.  "I've always wanted to kidnap a schoolgirl," Pepper sighed, "a pretty senior over eighteen, of course.  You look perfect with your girlish features and neat pageboy.  Have you ever thought about cutting your hair a little shorter, darling?  Maybe a Lulu-cut?  The same basic shape, only just barely covering your ears?  You know, like Guido Crepax' Valentina character?"

"L-Louise Brooks?" Tippi stammered, tugging on her cuffs.  "Is that what you mean by a L-Lulu-cut?"

"Yes, you clever girl," Pepper purred.  "Come."  She took hold of Tippi's right upper arm and led her from the closet... then from the bedroom.  "Let's see if Sis has Eliza ready."

"R-ready for what?" Tippi inquired.

"Hush, Schoolgirl," Pepper chuckled, "unless you want a pretty gag.  I think I've got a scarf and a long necktie that match that skirt, but I'm not sure exactly where."

Tippi "allowed" Pepper to lead her to one of the mansion's sitting rooms.  There, Coco and Eliza were waiting, lounging in chairs.  Both were still sweaty and their hair damp and disheveled, more or less as they'd all been when they left the sauna.  Tippi surmised that for some reason they hadn't yet taken showers or gotten dressed—except for Eliza—with respect to the getting dressed part.

That is, Coco was completely nude, except for a thin gold chain around her neck with a gold-plated barrel-style key.  And just to be clear, it wasn't a gold barrel-key charm, but a full-size and no doubt fully functional barrel-key, a fancy gold version of Coco's ubiquitous one-key-fits-all-locks key.

Eliza, on the other hand, was not nude.  In fact, Eliza was wearing a black leather straitjacket!  It was of the bare-breasted bolero variety, at least Tippi considered that was a reasonable description.  She had no actual idea how the thing was listed in the manufacturer's catalog, of course, assuming it wasn't custom made.  Anyway, the jacket's leather was more-or less skintight, with no real folds or creases that Tippi could see.  Eliza's arms were folded under her breasts in the traditional straitjacket self-hug, and were completely enclosed from her fingertips to her shoulders.  A taut leather strap pinned her upper arms to her sides, passing completely around her body and above her boobs, and with little retaining-sleeves sewn in the jacket's upper sleeves to keep it in position—as if the strap's tightness wasn't already enough.  Another strap encircled her leather-encased forearms and pinned them tightly against the jacket's front, below her boobs, then continued up between her boobs to buckle tight just below the jacket's collar.  Steel D-rings ran down the sides of the jacket, three on each side at the shoulders, upper arms, and lower margins for a total of six.  They shook when Eliza moved, but didn't rattle as there was nothing but leather for them to shake against.

And speaking of bare breasts, Eliza's were poking through what amounted to... gaskets.  The leathery boob-collars weren't especially tight, but they did impart a slight bulge to Eliza's pert pair, just enough to enhance their... globularity?  Is that a word?  Tippi did her best not to stare.

Eliza was bare from mid-torso to mid-thighs (hence Tippi's "bolero" designation of the jacket) and her exposed skin was sweaty (like all of Coco).  From Eliza's mid-thighs to her ankles, however, Eliza's legs were encased in a tight single-sleeve of black leather with encircling straps around her thighs, just below her knees, and around her ankles.  There were more of the sewn-in retaining-sleeves to keep the straps in position, and as with jacket's upper-arm/chest-strap, the leg-straps were all tight enough to make the tiny retaining sleeves unnecessary.  Six more steel D-rings were attached to the leg-sleeve, three on each side.  Finally, a little mini-harness of thin straps encircled Eliza's otherwise bare feet, bound her big-toes together, and linked to the leg-sheath's ankle-strap.

Also, while Coco was sprawled in a stylish and no doubt decadently comfortable Queen Anne wing-back chair, Eliza's chair was quite different.  In point of fact, she was sitting in—or rather was strapped into—a solidly built, institutional wheelchair!  The frame was tubular steel with a brushed finish, the padding was ocean-blue, and taut, broad, royal-blue "safety straps" of nylon webbing were tightened across Eliza's lower-legs, thighs, waist, torso, and throat, making sure she didn't "accidentally" fall out of the chair.

Finally, while it was quite clear that Eliza was not happy, articulate vocal complaints on her part were quite impossible.  A network of thin leather straps caged Eliza's entire head and anchored some sort of plug or ball in her mouth.  There was also a thin leather panel that stretched tightly across her lower face and cupped her chin.  In short, Eliza was gagged, and quite effectively gagged at that.

And adding dishevelment to restraint, Eliza's badly-in-need-of-a-shampoo blond hair poked between the harness-gag's straps in random spikes.  Poor Eliza was a seriously ticked off Punk prisoner.

Once again, Tippi realized she'd gotten the better end of the deal.  Her hands were "only" cuffed behind her back, but poor Eliza was strapped and laced and/or zipped into a small fortune's worth of black leather restraints.  It was... unfair.  Tippi thought that maybe she ought to say something about it... but decided to wait.  If she demanded bondage equity, it might not happen the way she wanted.

"There you are," Coco said smiling at her sister.  She then focused on Tippi and her smile broadened.  "Oh, she's absolutely adorable!" Coco gushed.

"Isn't she?" Pepper purred, then turned to Tippi and straightened the collar of her white blouse.  "Coco has something she'd like to explain to you girls, so pay close attention."

"Uh, okay," Tippi said in a near whisper.

"All right then," Coco began.  "You're going into town, Tippi, to help Pepper with the shopping."

"I am?" Tippi gasped and focused on Eliza, who stared back with a gagged glower.

"You are," Pepper chuckled, "and beforehand we'll have lunch at a cute little lake-side restaurant I like.  Now, be quiet and listen."

"Yes ma'am," Tippi sighed, then swallowed and refocused on Coco.

"Now," Coco continued, "while you're away, we're going to indulge in a little role playing.  From now on, whenever one of you girls leaves the mansion, the other will be... shall we say... sequestered in a very secure location until her return.  And the location in question will be quite effectively hidden.  In fact, it will be impossible to find.  And the one who remains behind will be bound, gagged, and quite helpless.  That way, Tippi, if you were to run to the police while in town and tell them your friend Eliza was being held prisoner by the evil Vespini Sisters in their sinister mansion, they could descend on this place and search to the point of exhaustion... and find absolutely nothing.  Do you understand?"

Tippi's heart was pounding, and she realized her eyes were wet with unshed tears.  "What are you... I mean, where... I mean...  Please don't hurt her.  Please!"

Coco focused on her sister.  "She is so precious."  Her smile returned to Tippi.  "Don't cry, darling.  It's all a game.  I've grown quite fond of my blond Tomboy and will do nothing to harm her."

"We're just pretending to coerce your cooperation, silly," Pepper purred, then kissed Tippi's cheek.  "It's a game, like Coco said.  Now, let's go.  I'm hungry."

And with that, Pepper led Tippi from the sitting room.  Tippi looked back over her shoulder at Eliza's glowering, helpless form for as long as she could... and then they were through the doorway and on their way to the garage.

Coco lounged in her comfortable chair, toyed with the gold key dangling from her necklace, and smiled at Eliza.

Eliza squirmed in her inescapable leather bonds in the thinly padded "comfort" of her rugged, institutional wheelchair, and scowled at Coco.

"Well," Coco purred after several seconds, "we might as well get you squirreled away."  She left her comfy chair, padded behind Eliza's not-so-comfy chair, released the brakes, and wheeled Eliza away.

In the course of the journey that followed, Eliza finally got to see a little more of the formerly unknown parts of the Vespini mansion.

At first, they rolled down familiar territory.  They passed the open iron gate to the "patient wing," causing the prisoner-of-the-chair to wonder if the sisters had been bluffing about hiding her away someplace where she'd never be found and Coco was going to simply put her to bed in her guest bedroom... but no.  They rolled her past her bedroom door... then past Tippi's bedroom door... and on down the hallway.

The remainder of the wing had already been explored by Eliza and Tippi, if you can call rattling locked doorknobs exploration.  Every door had, indeed, been locked, on both sides of the hall, and that included the iron gate at the very end that barred access to the stairway leading up to the second floor and down to the basement.  What was beyond the locked doors they still had no idea, but a pair of sliding doors near the far end were obviously an elevator, with a barrel-key-style keyhole on the right, about the place they would have expected to find a call button.

Coco rolled Eliza in front of the probable elevator, inserted her key in a keyhole, gave it a quarter-turn—Ping!—and the doors slid open to the left, revealing the interior of a typical elevator car.

Big surprise, Eliza mused as Coco rolled her inside and spun her around.  Eliza noted a control panel to the right, a vertical column of buttons labeled A, 2, G, and B.  At the moment, only the G button was illuminated.  Clever girl that she was, Eliza broke the code: A was for attic, 2 meant second floor, G was for ground, and B was the basement.  Basking in the glory of her intellectual achievement, Eliza watched (scowled) as Coco pressed the B button.  The elevator doors rumbled closed, the ping! sounded again, the B button began to glow, the G button winked out, and the car descended.

Eliza had already seen the mansion's basement.  More precisely, she'd seen the location of the mansion's laundry room.  The rest of the basement had been the usual mild clutter with the usual steel shelves holding cardboard boxes and plastic bins, stacks of presumably obsolete furniture, and a few storage trunks and wooden crates... then darkness.  There were also the usual utilities: heat-pump, plumbing junctions, power panels, etc.  However, Eliza hadn't really had an opportunity to thoroughly explore as she'd been busy gathering dirty clothes from the various hampers on the checklist Coco had given her, hauling all the dirty clothes to the basement, then loading and operating the washing machine and dryer.  She did manage a quick recon at one point, but found nothing more than a solid wall of concrete blocks defining the far end of the basement.  However, by her best estimate, the space she'd been in comprised only about half the footprint of the mansion overhead.  Obviously, Coco was taking her to the other part of the basement, subterranean terra incognita.

Ping!

Coco wheeled Eliza from the elevator, and Eliza found herself in a corridor lined with steel doors.  All in all, it was striking similar to the hallway immediately overhead, but with three not-so-subtle differences.  (1) Same as upstairs, lighting fixtures set into the concrete ceiling and protected by steel grills stretched into the distance, but the basement lights were quite a bit dimmer.  (2) The ceiling and walls were painted a rather gloomy shade of gray, as opposed to the "cheerful" institutional beige upstairs.  (3) The floor was clad with dark gray linoleum tiles, and not the "cheerful" institutional tan and rust checkerboard of tiles upstairs.  Together, the weak lighting, gray walls, and light absorbing floor tiles conspired to produce a decidedly spooky, sinister, and unsettling horror-movie/ghost-story ambiance.  Eliza doubted it was an accident.

Coco wheeled Eliza down the corridor... passing from pool of weak light... to near darkness... to the next pool of weak light... etc.  She paused to unlock and open a door in roughly the middle of the corridor, revealing what was obviously a cleaning closet.  On the left was a rack of brooms and mops.  On the right, steel shelves with a stack of steel buckets, plastic jugs of cleaning products, and cardboard boxes of paper towels.  And straight ahead a deep-sink with hand-soap and paper towel dispensers mounted on the wall.

The closet was surprisingly generous, with more than enough room for Coco to push Eliza and her chair close to the sink.  Coco then stepped to the side, gripped the soap dispenser, and gave it a counter-clockwise twist, turning it about forty-five degrees.  There was a loud click... a motor hummed... and the entire wall pivoted backwards and to the left, taking the deep-sink with it!  The wall was like a giant door on a hinge—or, as Eliza realized—a secret giant door on a hinge!

Her blue eyes wide above the harness-gag's panel and between the thin straps framing her nose, Eliza stared at the corridor beyond.   It had the same gray paint-job, dark-gray tile floor, and dim lighting as the corridor behind them.  It continued forward for several yards... three pools of dim light... then turned to the right.

Eliza realized her heart was hammering and her breath coming in gagged pants.  It's true!  It's not a bluff!  She has secret chambers under the mansion and she's going to... sequester me!

It was a very nice seafood bistro with a charming view of a small, scenic lake that wasn't the much larger but equally scenic lake next to the Vespini mansion.  Pepper and her young companion dressed like a schoolgirl (Tippi) were seated on the restaurant's deck, sipping iced tea under the shelter of a large umbrella, enjoying the view and waiting for their food to arrive.  (The handcuffs were in Pepper's purse.)

Sparkling water and dabbling ducks aside, Tippi was worried about Eliza.  She didn't really think Coco would do anything terrible to her best friend... like bury her alive.  And she didn't know why she was even thinking about stuff like premature burial, encasement in cement, Eliza getting bricked up in a basement alcove, etc.  For one thing, she didn't think Coco was the sort of person to go in for the amount of manual labor that would be required, and for another...  This is nuts! she realized.  I need to calm down... and stop channeling Edgar Alan Poe.

Pepper realized her charming young guest was somewhat fretful.  She found it most unfortunate (or possibly delicious).  "Tippi, darling," she purred, "remember... it's only a game."

"I know," Tippi sighed.

Pepper's dimpled smile took a sinister twist (maybe).  "Besides, what she told you is true.  Coco really is quite fond of her precious Tomboy and is nowhere near finished playing with her, just like I'm not done teasing my cute little Schoolgirl.  Coco will be careful.  And it's not like she's going to tuck your girlfriend away somewhere and forget where she's hidden her."

Tippi knew she was being teased and pursed her lips in a cute little pout, one of her most potent expressions.  Seconds passed before Pepper's "girlfriend" remark fully registered, but by then it was too late to make a denial without her supposed relationship with Eliza getting a double underline on Pepper's list of things-to-tease-Tippi-about.

Just then, their waitress arrived, a very cute, somewhat petite redhead in sensible shoes, a short black skirt, a white blouse more formal than Tippi's, and sporting a cute little black bow tie.  She was expertly carrying a large tray laden with their lunch.  Her name-tag read "Keira."

Tippi noted the way Pepper was smiling.  No doubt the Vespini Sisters would like to tease and torment poor Keira as well, she mused.  I should probably tell her to run for it.

Pepper received a Seafood Louis salad: iceberg lettuce, Dungeness crabmeat, bay shrimp, avocado, tomatoes, asparagus spears, hardboiled egg, black olives, and a yummy dressing made with mayonnaise, ketchup, and sweet relish.

Tippi received a Lobster Roll: lobster meat, mayonnaise, and diced celery and scallion, on a soft French roll with a side of fries.  After all, it was a seafood restaurant, Tippi very seldom got a chance to indulge in lobster, and Pepper was paying.

The Secret Subterranean Corridor with its Depressing Gray paint, Light Sucking Gray tile floor, and inadequate mood lighting took another turn... and five steel doors appeared, two on either side and one straight ahead.  Coco unlocked and opened the first door on the right with her dangling gold key, then wheeled Eliza into the chamber beyond.

It was a small room, no more than eight by ten feet, with a ten-foot ceiling.  The walls were smooth concrete painted the same depressing gray as all the other secret basement walls, and with the same dark gray tile floor.  Set in the center of the ceiling was a single lighting fixture, the same as all the others below ground.  And dimly spotlighted under the light was...

Eliza's eyes popped wide.  "Mrrrf?" she remarked (whined).  It was a cage of steel bars—a rectangular cage the size and shape of a coffin!  Its bars were blued steel, an inch in diameter, and spaced about four inches apart.  The top opened like a lid, and was secured by a hefty hasp and a high-security padlock, also of blued steel.  The cage rested on a waist-high pedestal of smooth, gray concrete the same shape as the barred enclosure.

Eliza continued watching (in horror) as Coco unlocked the padlock, lifted the hasp, and opened the cage's lid on well-oiled, heavy-duty hinges.  Next, she folded down the cage's long front panel, revealing a pad of natural, undyed canvas and several dangling clips of some sort, all of blued steel, like the cage, hinges, hasp, and padlock.

Coco's intentions were obvious.  Eliza squirmed, twisted, and fought her leather restraints and mewled through her harness-gag—"Mrrr!"—as Coco released the wheelchair's pretty blue straps, "helped" Eliza to her feet, then "helped" her recline on the cage's pad.

Eliza continued fighting and complaining as Coco closed a series of steel clips through the D-rings in the sides of Eliza's jacket and leg-sleeve.  Each clip had a rubber bungee-cord sliding through a circular base-ring with each end of the cord attached to a steel ring set in the base of the cage.  That is, when the clip was secured, the cord stretched in the form of an inverted "V."  As Coco worked her way down both sides of Eliza's struggling form, engaging clip after clip, the soon-to-be-sequestered prisoner's squirms became weaker and weaker.  The final result was a saw-tooth pattern of stretched cords and clips pinning Eliza to the canvas pad.  She had a little wiggle-room, but not much.

Eliza continued mewling—"Mmmpfh!"—as Coco lifted the cage's front panel and locked it in place—Click!  Click!—then closed the lid-like top—Thunk!—closed the hasp—Creee!—and secured the padlock—Click!

Coco folded her arms under her breasts and smiled (gloated) down at Eliza.  "The weight of the lid locks the front panel in place, so the padlock and hasp are what you might call the 'key knot' of the cage.  To escape, all you need to do is wiggle out of the jacket and leg-sheath, then pick the lock, open the hasp, and lift the lid."

Eliza tried to muster the spirit to glare at her captor, but was finding it difficult.  Coco's smile was... disturbing, especially seen through the bars of the coffin-cage and lit by the chamber's dim light.

"I think I'll take a nice swim," Coco announced.  "I'll come back and release you once Pepper and Tippi return from town... after we wait a few hours to make sure the police aren't following them home."  She continued smiling at her helpless young guest.  "Hmm... I'm not sure I can think of anything more... educational for tonight's exercise.  Perhaps I'll just leave you down here 'til morning."  She then turned and padded to the chamber's thick steel door, closed and locked it behind her—Click!—and was gone.

Her heart pounding in her ears, Eliza panted through her gag, her bare breasts heaving through the snug, gasket-like openings in the straitjacket.  She tried struggling, again, but the bungee-cords tugged her back into place however she tried to squirm.

Escape of any kind was impossible—not from the jacket and leg-sheath, not from the cage, the chamber, or the subterranean dungeon corridor beyond, much less the massive secret door walling her off from the rest of the mansion.  All Eliza could do was... try and relax.

She was finding it difficult.