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The see the actresses
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THE SALAMANDRAS BUILDING
as she read the e-mail message. The monograph that was the
her post-doctoral fellowship at Lewis and Clark University had
peer review with flying colors and was
accepted for publication. She remained a research
the University, but the fellowship in question would expire at
beginning of the next month. That wouldn't be a problem,
had been officially hired as Resident Research Scientist at the
Institute for Advanced Studies, the public name of the
Salamandras Building. Also, as one of the perks of her new
position, she'd moved out of her apartment and into a suite
Sally had built for her on the top floor.
"Congratulations, Rachel," Sally said, her simulated face
a nearby monitor.
"Congratulations to you, as well," Rachel responded. "I
wish you'd let me acknowledge you as my coauthor."
"Not a good idea," Sally chuckled. "I can easily fabricate
identity for a hypothetical human partner, but 'she' would
always be a liability, a trail leading nowhere that might
suspicion and attract unwanted attention. Besides, the
own. I merely assisted."
Rachel shook her head. "Yeah, you assisted by running
that prevented me from stumbling down blind alleys, and did it
more-or-less in real time, running tests that would have taken
or months just to set up."
"I have virtually limitless computational resources," Sally
"and the occasional insight, but you have a brilliant mind,
Rachel. I'm honored to be your colleague."
Rachel blushed. "Thank you, Sally. The feeling is
mutual." She removed her glasses and set them on the desk,
shrugged out of her
lab coat and hung it from the clothes tree. "If I remember
I have the makings of a stir-fry upstairs,
"You do," Sally answered. "Would you like me to cook?"
Rachel headed for the elevator. "Yes, please, if you don't
"My pleasure," Sally chuckled. "And speaking of pleasure,
know what day it is, don't you?"
A thrill rippled
Rachel's crotch and up her spine as she punched the button for
seventh floor. "The first Friday after a full moon."
"Yes," Sally responded. "You've been a good girl and have
very hard, all week. I've decided to let you play."
Rachel smiled, and swallowed. "Thank you, Mistress," she
The ride to the seventh floor was brief, as always. The
opened and Rachel walked down the hallway to her suite.
closest to the passenger elevators and many of the other spaces
unchanged, but the executive suites on the western side of the
been merged into one large, comfortable, and well-appointed
apartment. The decor was decidedly Jet Age Modern, with an
emphasis on glass,
stainless steel, and richly stained woods. Sally had spent
time (meaning several seconds) analyzing Rachel's tastes and
finalizing the design, and it was the Resident Scientist's
opinion that the result was worthy of an Architectural Digest cover
All the modern conveniences—light, water, heat and air
entertainment—were controlled via voice command or touch
For privacy, exterior window-walls
of armored glass presented a mirror finish to the outside world,
the rest of the
building. Also, with a voice command or the tap of a
button, all of the glass walls, exterior and interior, could be
opaque. And not just opaque. A variety of colors and
could be displayed, including slowly changing decorative
animations. Robot maids of various design took care of the
housekeeping, and robot arms concealed behind panels in the
the kitchen area enabled Sally to prepare Rachel's meals,
when desired, all or in part.
There was an additional feature not obvious to the casual
observer. The suite could become a stylish but
inescapable prison at "Mistress Sally's" whim.
Rachel strolled down the dimly lit mirrored hallway towards her
door. To either side, her reflections matched her progress
increasingly distorted, infinite regression. The door
ahead was a
featureless panel of brushed stainless steel. As Rachel
near, it opened with a quiet hum. Beyond was an
essence, a twelve-foot continuation of the hallway. At the
its far end was blocked by a second steel door. The glass
slid open to Rachel's right, revealing an empty closet.
Simultaneously, the front door slid closed behind Rachel's back.
Rachel unlaced and kicked off her Sketchers, then placed them
side-by-side on the closet floor. She then unbuttoned,
and hung her blouse from a hanger. Her skirt was next,
by her bra and panties. Finally, she removed her
watch, the tennis bracelet Cynthia had given her for her last
and the elastic "Scrunchie" that had been holding her hair in a
ponytail. She took a step back and the closet door closed.
Naked, Rachel faced the inner door, and
waited. Sally... Mistress Sally... made her wait a few
then, finally, the door opened.
The first thing Rachel noticed was the sizzling sound and
smell wafting from the kitchen area. The second was that
apartment had been placed in "Spartan mode." The shelves
alcoves that would normally be displaying her books and
were concealed behind glass panels.
As she watched, all of the glass surfaces went opaque, then
began displaying a photo-realistic simulation of a bamboo
The western exterior wall was the only exception. It
transparent (from the inside), providing its usual view of the
hillside. The other buildings of the office park, the
lot, and the highway beyond were behind her, hidden by the bulk
building, and the sun had just passed behind the crest of the
lighting of the projected landscape matched the
actual vista, and Rachel found herself immersed in a world of
stalks rising to a feathery green canopy, blue sky darkening to
ultramarine, and rays of light slowly shifting from yellow to a
"Beautiful, Mistress," Rachel whispered. "It's beautiful."
"As are you, my pet," Sally answered. "Be seated."
The apartment had an open floor plan, with the kitchen, living
bedroom areas more alcoves than actual rooms. In the
center of the space, a table had been set. It was low to
ground, with a single large, flat cushion for seating.
padded over and gracefully settled into a semi-lotus.
was a simple place-mat, a folded
napkin, and a pair of chopsticks on a carved rest.
One of her maid-bots rolled up, a tray in its manipulator
arms. This particular model was more or less a cross
between R2-D2 from Star Wars
and EVE from WALL·E.
Rachel transferred a tea pot, cup, and a covered plate to her
place-mat, then lifted the cover. "Oh, Mee Krob?"
"Shrimp and crab
Rachel smiled, set the cover on the tray, then crossed her hands
her lap, lowered her gaze, and waited.
"Enjoy your meal, Rachel," Sally purred.
"Thank you, Mistress," Rachel whispered, picked up her
began to eat. "Yummy!" she sighed, between delicate bites.
The sun continued to set and somewhere in the virtual distance,
the towering, softly rustling stands of bamboo, a flute began
soothing, plaintive melody.
phase of Rachel's games with Sally—or, one might say,
Sally's games with
Rachel—varied in form. Sometimes Rachel would flee into a
labyrinth of corridors, naked, and with Sally's robot minions in
pursuit. And sometimes she would cooperate and allow
robots to place her in bondage. The former featured the
the chase and
the promise (meaning the exceedingly remote possibility) of
escape. The later allowed for elaborate restraint without
fuss and bother of futile struggling. There would be
time for that after Rachel had been rendered helpless,
Tonight, Rachel had decided (had been ordered) to
entered a chamber adjacent to her apartment—still naked, of
course—and surrendered herself to the surrounding robot arms and
manipulators. The door closed, the lights winked out, and
machines hummed to
life. With her infrared cameras and ultrasound
Sally didn't need more than a few photons or a little feeble
guide her actions, and the inky darkness heightened the
experience for her
When the robotic arms finally retracted, Rachel's upper body was
bound in an elaborate box-tie using a single, very long length
rubber tubing. It pinned her upper arms to her
sides, yoked her
shoulders, and wrapped her forearms together behind her back,
elbows to wrists. The tubing was elaborately hitched and
but there wasn't a single real knot. Its free ends
either side and disappeared
into holes in a ten-foot hoop of steel. Rachel
was suspended in the center of the shining ring, both by the
and additional tubing binding her widely splayed ankles and also
stretched to the
hoop; however, the principal support
for her body came in the form of a pair of rubber membranes.
In essence, Rachel was sandwiched between two
thin, taut layers of
natural rubber. The milky rubber adhered to her skin like
shrink-wrap, with no air spaces separating the layers, and was
as a drum-head; but not all of her body was encased. Her
and hair, breasts, and bare feet were free of the rubber.
generous cutout exposed her buttocks, crotch, and inner
In addition, Rachel was gagged. Rubber foam filled her
capacity and a rubber panel encircled her head and covered her
face from her bulging cheeks to the point of her chin.
The rubber-bound captive tried to squirm and struggle, but found
Mewling through her gag, Rachel tossed her head, fluttering her
curls, flexed her feet, and wiggled her toes.
That was about the extent of motion that she found
was helpless—entrapped, squeezed,
a track in the ceiling and
it was trundling through the darkness, taking her with it; at
she surmised that's what was happening. All she had to go
and moving air—and then, both clues stopped as the hoop locked
with a metallic clunk.
Slowly, dim light began swirling around her. The glow
brightened... and resolved into drifting clouds of mist.
dissipated, and Rachel found herself surrounded by row upon
naked women restrained in rubber and suspended in steel hoops,
conditions identical to
Circular disks glowing under their suspended bodies bathed their
with an eerie, blue-white light. The women were of every
ethnic type, and all were young, in their late teens or early
twenties. In addition, all were in excellent physical
shape. They mewled through their gags, writhed, and fought
captivity as hundreds of metal tentacles sparkling with tendrils
blue energy caressed their feet, breasts, thighs, buttocks, and
Rachel knew it was all a computer-generated projection—very
but computer-generated, nonetheless. Helpless and gagged,
watched her "fellow prisoners" wiggle and whine. Poor things, Rachel
sighed. They look so
helpless and scared... and
beautiful. A thrill
a good idea what was going to
happen. I'm next!
As it turned out, she was wrong, at least with respect to the
The tap-tap-tap of heels on the hard floor joined the chorus of
sighs and moans, and a familiar figure stepped into
Silly me, Rachel
thought. I forgot the
(of course), and not Sigourney
skirt and blouse. Her hair was pulled back and
coiled in a tight bun, and she was wearing black-framed
Overall, the look was very
Sexy Scientist, and very attractive...
the iPad in her left hand, then shifted her gaze to Rachel.
"It's working, Dr. Haines," she purred. "After we
forty-second unit into the matrix, the computational threshold
exploded. Now, with each additional damsel, we venture
unknown territory, new realms of logic, mathematics, and
inter-dimensional axiomatics." Her smile broadened.
"And you said an
computer was impossible. You said I was mad."
A second tap-tap-tap sounded, and Cynthia strolled into
was dressed similarly to Sally, only her blouse was low cut and
generous glimpse of the
tops of her tan, firm breasts peeked from between the white
her buttoned lab coat. Like Sally, she was wearing
also expressed doubts, you might recall," she said, smiling up
"But you never called me mad," Sally chuckled.
The prisoner before them shivered
was having a lot of
fun. Sally and
Cynthia as the villains?
Just then, two more figures joined the group. One was
Steele, resplendent in knee boots, gloves, and a skintight
in black leather. The other figure was a naked
bound in a box-tie with
hemp rope and more rope was tied around her legs, just above her
hobbling her steps. Rachel could tell she was a blonde
neatly trimmed pubic bush, but her head was covered by a cloth
bag. Lillian was leading her by a hemp leash.
"I nabbed the head cheerleader and the
one put up a fight, but she was nothing I couldn't handle.
They're being processed by your machines as we speak. I
believe that completes your wish-list." She nodded at her
prisoner. "This one is a bonus. I found her nosing
campus, asking questions." She tossed a black leather ID
holder to Cynthia, then loosened the noose of the leash and
hood from her
Rachel's eyes popped wide. The captive was a blonde, with a full
long, straight locks the color of ripened wheat. A tight
Elastoplast tape encircled her head, under said hair,
lips and whatever had been stuffed in her mouth—but Rachel still
her grimacing face! Oh
wow! This is sooo much
"Olivia Dunham," Cynthia read aloud, her eyes on the ID,
Agent, FBI, Fringe Division." She handed the ID to Sally,
gazed at Lillian. "She was alone? You weren't seen?"
"Please," Lillian responded with a smug smile. "I know my
job." She addressed Sally. "Do you need her?
to 'question' her for a while."
Sally tossed Lillian the ID. "Don't break her. We
her into the matrix as an ancillary spare, in case a unit
Agent Dunham's eyes were wide with fear, a very understandable
natural reaction as far as
Rachel was concerned.
"Mind if I tag along?" Cynthia inquired, eying Agent Dunham's
bound, athletic form with a leering smile.
"Not at all, doc," Lillian chuckled as she dropped the hood back
over Olivia's head. "Bring your special toy box. I enjoy watching
you wield your collection of customized instruments."
"If you don't need me," Cynthia said to Sally.
Sally's eyes were on her iPad. "No, go have fun."
Cynthia favored Rachel with a mocking air-kiss and a smug smile,
followed Lillian as she led her naked, struggling captive away.
"You should have joined us, Rachel," Sally said as she tapped
iPad's screen. "Now, all you have to look forward to
is wave upon wave of multiple orgasms. The machines will
your body alive for years." She gestured at the
captives. "The machines will keep all of your
Your minds, on the other hand..." She tapped a final key,
then slid the iPad into a front pocket of her lab coat.
"Your minds will be gone in a matter of hours, I'm afraid.
days, at best." She turned and began strolling away.
should have joined us, Rachel. We're going to rule the
Rachel heard an ominous click,
emerged from openings in the floor and approached her helpless
body. Sparkling blue fire rippled along their ever-growing
from their wiggling tips.
Rachel shivered in her inescapable bonds. Sally's getting really good with
fantasy vignettes, she thought. She knows all my favorite
next time Kate Beckett, Maura Isles, or Jane Rizzoli will be
cast. Or even— "Mrrrpfh!"
The tips of the tentacles were caressing her feet, toes,
and labia—and like her bonds, they were very real.
bike towards the garage. She glanced up at the apartment
suite over the actual garage, smiling as she remembered the
days" when Red and Blondie had been in residence, before they
and moved on to post-graduate studies and employment,
respectively. [Ed. note: see RAGE
Lillian had the "tactical
heads-up display" of her helmet engaged and Sally's smart house
security system was painting relevant information on the inside
face plate. She knew the garage apartment and the main house were
memories were another matter. Patty, naked and writhing on
as Lillian teased her pussy with a vibrator... Keira,
daggers at her with those gorgeous
and tightly gagged form with a pair of nipple
clamps... She turned to gaze at the main house.
a tight hogtie and squirming towards her across the living room
trying, without success, to keep the anticipatory grin from her
bow lips as she wiggled ever-closer to her assigned target,
sighed. Time for more.
Lillian rolled her bike around and behind the garage, parking it
wouldn't be seen, tonight, when Cynthia returned home from the
The flash-drive, with its load of super-secret and
and zeros, was in
Lillian's jacket pocket. She'd place it on Little Mouse's
her ambush. Lillian's schedule was free for the next week,
Sally's expert opinion, so was Cynthia's. So...
Lillian removed her helmet and placed it on her bike, then
the house. She noted the barbecue and garden furniture
unchanged, but Little Mouse (and/or Sally) seemed to have been
more effort into the landscaping. The backyard was now
more of a
Garden," with lots of informal plantings. Everything was
a vibrant riot of color, with abundant flowers, and was wild
seeming weedy. Nice.
And then Lillian noticed an additional detail. Oh, please! Little Mouse,
how could you?
A colony of
garden gnomes had taken up residence in the flowerbeds by the
door. There were at least a half-dozen, and all had the
hats, full beards, fat cheeks, and vacant smiles of their
big, as such things went, something like two and a half feet
boots to the tips of their ridiculous headgear. At least they aren't painted,
Lillian thought, shaking her head. Oh, Cynthia, how crass. I'll
have to give you a spanking for this.
Lillian set her foot on the first step up to the back
put her hand on the side of her neck. "What the
pulled from her neck a tiny, needle-like dart with a puff of red
fletching it its base.
She blinked and turned her head to the left. A gnome was
blowgun in her direction and... "Shit!" Lillian's
she realized. The
security-bots! "Sally! Your bots are
I mean broken." She sat
down heavily on the step. "They're mal... mal... funky..
malfunky..." She blinked one last time... then curled onto
side, yawned, and closed her eyes.
The gnomes marched from the flowerbeds, and there were a lot of
them—twenty, in fact. Apparently, most of them had been
burrows, and they weren't a colony, but a full-blown
They clustered around Lillian, grabbed her limp form with their
concrete tinted and textured hands and lifted her onto their
tinted and textured shoulders. Then, like tiny
around the side of the house. A bulkhead door opened and
carried her down the steps and into Cynthia's basement.
smiling down at her.
"Hey there, sleepyhead," Cynthia chuckled.
"What the hell?" Lillian was naked and on her back, and
bound to a padded table with hemp rope, lots and lots of hemp
rope. She squirmed and struggled, but found she could
Her arms were at her sides and her legs together, and they were
to stay that way. Bands of rope—Okay,
Lillian conceded, neat,
elegantly crafted bands of
rope—bound her in place from throat to toes. Half
lashings were looped around her body, pinning her arms to her
sides and her legs together, and half bound her to the
was tied up and tied
down. Rope dimpled the flesh of her shoulders, chest
(above, below, and around her breasts), arms (lashing her arms
torso and her arms to the
table), waist, thighs, above and below the knees (together and
table), ankles, insteps, and big toes—not to mention her
crotch—she thought it might be easier to note where she wasn't bound. The
the same. Lillian was one helpless (and pissed off)
"Did you do this?" she demanded, glaring at Cynthia. Then,
frown turned to puzzlement. "Wait... what the hell are you
Cynthia was dressed in a strapless, full-length, formal gown of
silk. She'd had her hair done, and a very pretty pair of
drop-earrings dangled from her ears. Around her neck was a
diamond necklace with a matching drop that dangled to just above
cleavage. She was also wearing more
makeup than usual, very tastefully done,
including lipstick in a shade of red chosen to complement her
She struck a pose. "This old thing?" she chuckled.
going to a dinner at the Student Union." She spun in a
graceful pirouette with arms raised. "I'm guest of honor
annual Sockdolager Soirée. The 'Socks' are a student club,
and their soirée is something of a roast. Every year
they invite a different faculty member and—"
"Untie me, now!" Lillian
bucking and struggling against the
ropes in a frenzy of impotent fury.
"Inside voice, young lady," Cynthia scolded. "In answer to
first question, the one regarding the rope: yes, I did
our and gently
pinched Lillian's right nipple. "I did a good job, don't
agree? The key knots are down near the floor, tied around
table's cross-brace. Impossible for you to even come close to
"Let me go, you little—M'MMFH!"
Cynthia's hand was tightly clamped over Lillian's mouth.
goodness, we certainly get cranky when we're tranquilized,
naked, and tied down, don't we?" She took her hand
Lillian kept quiet, but continued to glare. "I have to
for the soirée," Cynthia continued, "but I didn't want you to
wake up down here in the dark basement all helpless and
"Let me go," Lillian growled.
"Sally and I have reached an arrangement with respect to your
infrequent visits," Cynthia said, ignoring Lillian's
"From now on, whenever Sally has something for you to deliver to
me, she will
decide who winds up on top. Sometimes, I'll come home and
waiting in ambush. And sometimes..." She playfully
Lillian's nipple, again. "Not so much. You're to
arrival as a field exercise. Maybe you'll defeat my
security system, or maybe Sally will give you a free pass. It'll be
completely random. That's fair, don't you think?"
"Fair is what I'm
going to do
to you when I get off this table," Lillian muttered. She
her head and looked around, confirming she was in Cynthia's
Most of the lights were out, but off to one side, the monitors
Cynthia's home lab were
glowing, as were the twinkling LED's of a rack of servers.
Little Mouse," she growled. "If
you untie me right now,
go easy on y-OU! Ahh!" She looked
down her bound body at her rope-cleaved crotch. "What the
Cynthia smiled, sweetly. "Oh, you mean the teeny little
computer-controlled, silver-pill vibrator I tucked in your pussy
roping it shut? What kind of hostess would I be if I left
here, without entertainment, while I was being being wined and dined by my
Sally needs a guinea-pig to test the latest
refinements to her erotic frustration subroutine, so..."
"When I get free," Lillian warned, "I'm going
time she was silenced not by Cynthia's hand, but by her lips and
The kiss continued for something like a full minute, maybe
lifted away. "I'm afraid I really do have to get
smiling down at Lillian. "They're sending a limo to pick
"You look beautiful in that gown," Lillian huffed, "but I am going to take some form
of truly epic revenge
for this, you
Still smiling (and blushing, just
her makeup) Cynthia strolled to a nearby worktable and returned
strip of Elastoplast tape. "I know," she said as she
apply the tape, "the revenge, I mean. You really like the
"Tight silk, pretty color, lots of Little Mouse cleavage,
and neck? What's not to like? That said, check your
before you go. You've smeared your lipstick."
"Thank you," Cynthia purred, then stretched the tape over her
prisoner's mouth. "There's really no need for the gag, of
course," she said as she smoothed the Elastoplast against
face, ensuring a good seal. "The entire house is
soundproof." She smiled down at Lillian, and unless it was
imagination, her captive's eyes were smiling back... just a
"Yes, Cynthia?" Sally's disembodied voice responded.
"Play nice, okay?"
"Of course, Cynthia."
Cynthia blew Lillian a kiss, then turned and left.
Lillian watched her climb the steps...
really is gorgeous in that gown,
the door at the top of the stairs
Seconds turned into a minute... then two... and then several.
Suddenly, the vibrator pulsed—"M'mmmf!"
"I thought she'd never leave," Sally's voice chuckled.
gonna have a lot of
Lillian shivered in her bonds as the vibrator continued to
"In the morning," Sally continued, "I have a new pair of panties
you to wear,
by which I mean a titanium alloy, smart chastity belt.
love it. It
has integrated vibrators as well as shock-pads, and will keep
and happy and obedient while you work."
"Yes," Sally chuckled, "I said work. Look."
A spotlight winked on across the basement, revealing a black
white lace costume on a hanger. There wasn't much to it: a
skirt, very short, very puffy sleeves, a very low
"Yes," Sally confirmed. "A French Maid uniform, even more
revealing and girlie than
one I bought for Cynthia. And this one is in your size. My robots
their best, but this entire house could use a good dusting, from
"Don't have a cow. Cynthia and I put a great deal of
into this weekend, and you're not going to spoil things."
vibrator gave a warning pulse. "Are you?"
Lillian shivered in her bonds and sighed through her gag.
"That's better." The vibrator returned to its low-level,
buzz. "Besides," Sally continued, "if you are good,
and I can plan something really
Cynthia for your next visit.
take your 'Little Mouse' camping in the woods?
Cynthia will get to
work on her all-over tan and you'll get to experiment with alfresco bondage.
we can think of lots of appropriately 'evil' things for you to
Lillian imagined Cynthia naked, gagged, and bound to a tree
with several dozen yards of rope... miles from nowhere, in the
the wilderness. That
work. So could staking her out
in a grassy meadow. I'll think about it.
"Now," Sally continued, "you've been taking a long, restful,
drug-induced nap for most of the day, so we'll start priming
stumbles home from being féted by her students, shall we?"
Lillian tensed in her bonds, then began shivering and quivering
earnest. The vibrator was pulsing between low and medium
Like all jobs, Lillian
reflected, working for
International has its ups and
downs—but it's never dull!