by Van ©2014

Chapter 10

Dramatis Personæ


Jodi took a quick shower in the Mistress-bath, soaping herself thoroughly and shampooing her hair, but not lingering under the gloriously hot water.  Eleanor, her new employer, companion, lover, and Mistress was waiting!  She turned off the water, toweled herself dry, then blow-dried her hair and gave it a quick brush.  She considered wrapping the towel around her nude body, but decided to go with her birthday suit.  Jodi scampered back into the bedroom—and smiled.

Mistress Eleanor, still resplendent in her dominatrix outfit, was sitting in the same easy chair, booted legs crossed, gloved hands resting on the chair's arms, and looking as hot as ever.

"I've been thinking, Mistress," Jodi said.


"You should let me talk to Candy," Jodi continued.  "I'm sure I can convince her to take the maid's job, especially if she's still bound in that corset and mitt thingie."

"You do?"

"Oh, yeah," Jodi nodded.  "And if you lend me your riding crop, I know I can do it."

"Not gonna happen, Little Nymph," Eleanor chuckled.

"Well," Jodi groused, "I guess a spanking will suffice, but the riding crop would be better."

"You misunderstand," Eleanor said with a grin.  "I'm going to talk to your sister."

Jodi tried her best petulant pout.  "I know I can do it."

"Adorable," Eleanor chuckled, then climbed to her booted feet.  "I'm reserving the fun of recruiting the new maid for myself."

A sly smile curled Jodi's lips.  "Mistress is selfish.  That's not very companiony."

Eleanor regarded her new lady's companion with a smile.  "Just for that, you're trying out my new armbinder."

Jodi's smile widened.  "The one I brought over on my Vespa?  By the way, you didn't leave it parked in front of the garage, did you?"

"No, I moved it inside," Eleanor answered.  "And yes, the very same armbinder you delivered for Libby."  She strolled to the walk-in closet and returned with the black leather single-sleeve in question.

"I do like the pebbled finish," Jodi said, gazing at the smooth, glove-soft leather.  "The plain one was okay, but this is better.  Prettier."

"I'm so glad you think so," Eleanor chuckled as she strolled behind Jodi, gathered her arms behind her back, slid the armbinder up her arms, and began lacing it tight.

Jodi cooperated fully, of course.  She did wince, slightly, as Mistress went back over the laces, pulling them ever tighter until her elbows felt like they were melded together.  Eleanor leaned close and dropped the yoke-straps over her shoulders, crossed them over her chest, then passed them under her armpits and buckled them tight to the top of the binder.  Finally, the broad, cuff-like straps were buckled around her elbows and wrists.

Jodi executed the required courtesy struggle, rolling her shoulders and twisting her encased arms, then shared her assessment.  "Just as tight as the first one."

"And you look just as pretty," Eleanor purred.  She embraced Jodi from behind, cupped her companion's breasts with her gloved hands, and gave them a gentle squeeze.  "Even prettier, since now I can see your pert little boobs."

Jodi shivered in the armbinder's inescapable embrace, and her Mistress' strong arms.  "Not to mention manhandle them," she whispered.

Eleanor kissed the side of Jodi's neck.  "Just so."  She released Jodi and strolled to her chest of drawers.

Jodi tested the binder in earnest.  She wasn't really trying to escape, but wanted to confirm that she was, indeed, helpless.

Eleanor returned with five small padlocks.  Their bodies were all heart-shaped, and two had unusually long hasps.  "These will make sure you stay in my new binder until I decide the test is over," Eleanor explained.

"Overkill," Jodi sighed.

"Exactly," Eleanor chuckled.  She fit the extra-long padlocks through the double tongues of the wrist and elbow cuff-strap buckles and clicked them closed, then used the regular padlocks to secure the buckles of the yoke-straps and a flap that folded down and covered the top of the laces, making it impossible to untie the terminal bow.  There," she said when all five padlocks were in place.  "Now, wait right here."

Standing more or less in the middle of the bedroom, Jodi watched Eleanor return to the walk-in closet.  She twisted her arms again, to test the padlocks.  She thought she might be able to feel the three shorter padlocks sway, but couldn't be sure.  She couldn't feel the two longer padlocks move at all.

Eleanor returned wheeling a box, or a big footstool, or... Jodi wasn't sure what the thing was.  The base was rectangular, thirty-something by forty inches, and the height about thirty.  The sides were all wood—stained, polished, and solidly braced.  Overall, the impression was of a very well-built shipping crate, finished like a piece of furniture and with a padded top covered in brown leather.  The most curious feature was the top.  It was, indeed, padded—hence Jodi's "big footstool" impression—but it also had a round opening of some sort, about six inches in diameter.

"This thing is a bit like a Chinese puzzle-box," Eleanor explained, "but I think I remember how it works."

Jodi watched in silence as Eleanor pulled a key from between her breasts, inserted it into a flush-mounted lock set into the side of the box, turned it, then gave one of the wooden cross-braces a push.  The cross-brace slid forward a few inches with an audible click, Eleanor pushed on another brace, and the entire front of the box swung open.  This allowed Eleanor to pull on the top.  The front two-thirds slid free and she placed it on the carpet, off to the side.

Jodi could see that the inside of the box was well-padded, with several leather straps dangling from various locations.  Also—and alarmingly—the opening in the top was now revealed to be the two halves of a padded posture collar!  Obviously, the box was designed to confine a helpless damsel, and at the moment there was only one person in the bedroom who met that description.

"It'll be tight, Little Nymph," Eleanor purred, "but if I can fit, I know you can."

"In there?" Jodi demanded, staring at the open box in horror (or a reasonable facsimile thereof).

Eleanor grinned.  "Don't make me fetch a riding crop."

Jodi's eyes were on the sinister box.  "It's down below, hanging next to the flogger you used to 'demonstrate' on Libby."

"I have many riding crops, Little Nymph," Eleanor purred.

Jodi heaved a theatrical sigh.  "I bet you do."  She padded forward and gazed down at the waiting box.

Eleanor took Jodi by the shoulders, turned her around, then helped her into the box.  It was awkward with Jodi's arms trapped behind her back, but they managed.

Soon, Jodi found herself sitting on her butt with her leather-encased arms pressed into the back padding, her legs tucked against her body, and the back of her neck in the back half of the posture-collar opening.  She watched Eleanor stretch a broad strap across her chest, above her breasts, and buckle it tight.  More straps followed, across her waist, binding her folded legs against the sides of the box, and pinning her feet in the pointe position.  The padded interior made the pose more or less comfortable, and the closeness of the walls and tightness of the straps made it permanent.

"Well," Jodi said, "This isn't too b—Hey!"

Eleanor had thrown a small switch in the base of the box, there was a metallic click, and something long, narrow, and cylindrical had flipped up and was pressing itself, lengthwise, against Jodi's labia with its blunt tip nudging the area over her clitoris!  It felt like it might be made of rubber or latex, and possibly covered with little bumps and protrusions.

Jodi squirmed and tried pulling her pussy away from the vaguely banana-shaped thing, but it moved with her, maintaining a gentle pressure.  Apparently, its mounting was spring loaded.  The "friendly banana" was exerting enough pressure to part her labia, but at least it wasn't trying to push its way inside... at the moment.

Eleanor lifted the front half of the top, fit it into its guide rails, and slid it forward.  "Lift your chin, Little Nymph," Eleanor ordered, Jodi complied, and she slid the top the rest of the way forward.  It locked with a click, and Jodi's neck was now trapped in the padded collar, immobilizing her head.

Jodi focused on her smiling mistress.  "You fit in this thing?"

"Just barely," Eleanor purred as she swung the front panel closed and secured it in place.  She turned the lock, withdrew the key, returned it to her bosom, then stood and smiled down at Jodi's upturned face.  "I'm not sure your sister would fit in your place," she chuckled.  "Maybe with a pillow tucked under her cute little butt."

Jodi opened her mouth to inquire what the rubber banana pressing against her crotch was for, then thought better of it.  She watched Eleanor turn and stroll to the bed, then sit.  Lucky for Jodi, the box was facing in that direction, because turning her head more than a fraction of a degree to either side was now impossible.  The collar did allow her to raise and lower her chin a little, but that was it.

Eleanor unlaced and removed her boots.  This took some time, as the skintight black boots hugged her legs for nearly their entire lengths.  Next, she unbuckled and removed her corset-bustier, tossed it on the bed, then stood and removed her thong-like leather bikini bottom, followed by her pantyhose.  Her black leather opera gloves were next, and now Mistress was gloriously nude.  She smiled at Jodi—sending a thrill through the boxed little damsel—then reached back and released the bun restraining her hair.  Eleanor shook out her long, dark tresses, then padded forward to stand before Jodi and her box.

Jodi stared up at Eleanor's strong, nude, perfect body in worshipful awe.

"That box is more than convenient damsel storage," Eleanor stated.  "Allow me to demonstrate."  She climbed onto the box and squirmed forward until her pussy was a fraction of an inch from Jodi's mouth!  Her splayed legs were to either side of Jodi's head, of course, with her heels resting against the back of the box, and she was leaning back on her arms with her elbows locked.  "Need I say more?"

Trapped in the box and barely able to squirm, Jodi's world was reduced to Mistress Eleanor's glorious pubic bush and her glistening labia.  It was abundantly obvious what was expected of her.

"Well?" Eleanor purred.

Jodi wet her lips, extended her tongue, and set to work.

A shiver rippled up Eleanor's spine and she thrust her crotch forward, pressing her pussy against Jodi's mouth and tongue.  "Excellent, Little Nymph!" she gasped.  "You're a quick learner."


Candy stumbled down the dungeon corridor, naked, her hands trapped in leather mitts and strapped to the back of her tight corset-belt in the box-tie position.  Her ankles were buckled in leather cuffs and hobbled by a leather strap, a ball-gag plugged her grimacing mouth, a leather collar was around her neck, and the leash attached to the collar was in Libby's hand.  Candy was being led like a bipedal puppy... a grumpy, slightly nervous, slightly scared bipedal puppy.

Candy watched Libby stride ahead of her down the dimly lit concrete passageway.  Her nude, toned, fit body still glistened with sweat, and the backs of her thighs, dimpled buttocks, and lower back were still flogger-burned.  Is 'flogger-burn' a word? the diminutive prisoner wondered.  In any case, the pink patches didn't seem to be causing Libby any pain... not that the stoic beauty would have let her discomfort show, of course, even if the pink areas were killing her.  After all, Candy mused, she has clamp-proof nipples.

Libby led her up the stairs and through the secret door in the library closet, then through the house to a modest bedroom—modest by the standards of Mistress Eleanor's evil lair, that is.  It was about half the size of the Hodges sisters' entire apartment.  There was a queen-size poster bed, an easy chair and ottoman next to a reading light and side table, a large dresser, and an open door that led to what appeared to be a full bath.  Everything was Modern in style, like the rest of the house, including the dungeons down below.  A large window overlooked a charming garden venue, the centerpiece of which was a very pretty concrete birdbath.  All things considered, it was a very nice bedroom.

Libby led Candy to the bed and hitched her leash to one of the bedposts, then walked to the dresser and started opening drawers.  Obviously, she was looking for something—and then she found it.  Candy watched her return with some hoops made of milky-white plastic in her right hand.  Libby dropped them on the bed, then began unbuckling the elbow-straps of Candy's corset-belt.

Candy gazed down at the plastic hoops and realized they were plastic binders, two cable-ties that shared a common housing for their locking-tabs.  Also called flexi-cuffs, they were the things the cops used for mass arrests, and there were two of them.  They were thick and hefty, and Candy could see that a few inches of clear vinyl tubing had been used to cover parts of the long ties.  She realized that once the binders were in use, the vinyl would act as cushioning, protecting the wearer's skin from the hard plastic.

I wonder who they're for? Candy wondered sarcastically.

While Candy was examining what she surmised would soon to be her new restraints, Libby had been busy.  Candy's mitt-encased hands were still behind her back and pinned against the back of the corset-belt, but her arms were out of the box-tie and there was plenty of slack, more than enough for Libby to pull her elbows together.  Libby picked up one of the binders from the bed and fit it around Candy's upper-arms.

"Mrrf!" Candy complained as the binder zipped closed.  Her elbows were now about an inch apart, and obviously they were going to stay that way.

"Quiet, kiddo," Libby purred.  She had released the remaining corset-belt strap and was starting on the buckles and straps securing the mitts.  "We can't shower with you wearing all this leather, now can we?"

Hence the waterproof binders, Candy realized, then blinked in surprise.  Wait a minute!  'We?'  We're gonna share the shower?  The very thought was disturbing... and a little arousing.

Libby had succeeded in removing the mitts and was zipping the second binder around Candy's wrists.

Candy was glad her tingling, sweaty hands were free of the mitts, and was also glad the binders were lined with vinyl tubing—at least she thought she probably ought to be glad.  She's never worn unlined plastic binders, or cable-ties from the hardware store, for that matter.  Jodi had only tied her up with cotton rope, and vice versa.  Also, a little duct tape, no more than a dozen or so rolls.  But mostly rope.  Rope was reusable.

"There," Libby said, then turned Candy around so they were face-to-face, then began unbuckling the corset-belt.  "I need to get cleaned up so I can get back to the store.  Poor Vicki is there all alone."

'Poor Vicki.'  Boohoo.  Candy's eyes widened.  Wait!  Back to the store?  Take me with you!  "Mrrrpfh!"  The ball-gag prevented Candy from making a formal request.

Libby unbuckled and removed Candy's collar and leash, then knelt and removed her ankle-cuffs and hobble.  She then stood, smiled down at Candy, reached behind her head and parted her tousled hair, then unbuckled and removed the ball-gag.

Her eyes locked with Libby's, Candy licked her lips and worked her jaw before speaking.  "Uh, can we rescue Jodi from the evil witch-lady on the way out?" she inquired gravely.

"Eleanor is not an evil witch-lady," Libby chuckled.

Candy heaved an exasperated sigh.  "She flogged you!"

"I'm sure I must have done something to deserve it," Libby purred.  She pulled Candy into an embrace.

With their sweaty bodies pressed together, the difference in heights required Candy to lift her chin to gaze up at her beautiful, naked handler's face.

"Haven't you done things for which you've never been punished?" Libby inquired.

Candy slowly shook her head, her expression grave.  "No."  She squirmed in Libby's embrace.  "I'm always a good girl."

"Liar," Libby chuckled, then kissed her tiny captive's lips.

"Mrrr!"  Candy's eyes popped wide, then— What the heck? —she returned the kiss.  Candy tugged on her plastic-cuffed wrists and upper-arms as their tongues swirled and lips sucked.  Libby's hands slid over Candy's buttocks, arms, back, and shoulders.

Finally, Libby broke the kiss, draped an arm over Candy's shoulders, and led her towards the bathroom.

"How'd ya get that tan?" Candy demanded.


"Your allover tan," Candy clarified.

"I'm a naturalist," Libby explained.  "I belong to a private spa on the other side of town."

"A nudist colony?"

"We don't call it that," Libby chuckled.  "The term 'nudist colony' is so nineteen-fifties.  I'll take you as my guest sometime.  You'll love it."

"I burn," Candy pouted.

"No problem," Libby purred.  "I'll make sure you maintain a thorough coating of sunblock at all times."

"Oh."  Candy couldn't think of a clever comeback, or any reasonable objections to the proposed visit for that matter.

They entered the bathroom, which had a surprisingly large shower, and Libby turned on the water.

 Chapter 10

If Mistress Eleanor in dominatrix drag was hot, then Mistress Eleanor naked and cumming was the surface of the frakkin' sun!

Of course, from her position inside Mistress Eleanor's box with only her head sticking out and her neck locked in the posture collar, and with Eleanor's pussy more or less smashed in her face, Jodi wasn't in much of a position to critically evaluate her Mistress' form as she writhed, shivered, and quaked in orgasm, but Jodi could tell!  Yes, Jodi could tell!  Mistress Eleanor's new Lady's Companion had done it right and Mistress Eleanor was double-hot!

Finally, Eleanor sighed and climbed off the box, stretched, heaved a contented sigh, and smiled down at Jodi's upturned face.

Jodi smiled back, licked her lips, and savored the tiny thrill rippling between her legs.  She hadn't cum herself, not even close, but she was definitely aroused.  Maybe it was the constant pressure of the rubber banana nudging her pussy, and maybe it was the frustration of the whole Jodi-in-a-box thing, but Jodi was sure she had almost cum herself... maybe... sort of.  It wouldn't have been her most memorable orgasm, but the circumstances would have made it special.  One thing was for sure: Mistress Eleanor wiggling in her face as she licked her pussy, that was memorable!

"Look at you," Eleanor chuckled, "like a kitten licking her chops after lapping a saucer of milk."

"More like after chowing down on a can of tuna," Jodi purred, "Mistress."

"Cheeky monkey," Eleanor chuckled as she strolled to the bed.

"Monkey?  I thought I was a kitten?" Jodi purred, then her eyes widened.  Eleanor was strolling back with the ball-gag in her hands.  "Mistress!" Jodi whined as she tried to squirm her boxed and bound body.  A tiny degree of actual movement was just barely possible.  Escape was an absurdity.

"I have things to do, Little Nymph," Eleanor announced as she stepped behind the box, "so I'm going to put you someplace safe, warm, and quiet."

"Ah, c'mon!  Nrmpfh!"  The ball was back in Jodi's mouth and Mistress was buckling the strap behind her head.  Apparently there was a convenient slot or flange or something in the back of the posture collar that allowed for the addition of a gag to the damsel-in-a-box installation.  "M'rrpf-mmf-rrrnf!" Jodi complained in a gagged tirade as Eleanor wheeled her, box and all, into the walk-in closet.

In addition to the racks of clothing, shelves of shoes and accessories, and banks of sliding drawers, Jodi beheld a cubbyhole in the back wall, dead ahead, and it appeared to be her destination!


The cubbyhole looked to be only slightly larger than the box itself.  Eleanor spun Jodi and her box around, then slid her/them into the small space.


The ceiling of the cubbyhole was only a few inches above Jodi's head, and the sides of the box seemed to have no clearance to either side.  The box and Jodi slid into place and there was an audible snap, as if clamps were locking it in place.

Eleanor knelt and started doing something to the front of the box.  "There," she said, then smiled at Jodi's wide-eyed, anxious, gagged face.  "The box is plugged in and I've programmed it to keep you entertained while I tend to your sister's recruitment."

"Nrrf?"  'Plugged in?'  'Entertained?'  Jodi squirmed in her inescapable bonds, her eyes pleading with her new employer.

"I'll be back, Little Nymph," Eleanor purred, then stood.

"Mpfh!"  From inside the cubbyhole, all Jodi could see was the contents of the closet, and in the immediate foreground, Mistress' thighs, pussy, pubic bush, hips, and the lower part of her flat tummy.  And then—with an ominous rumble—a thick panel slid across the front of the cubbyhole, walling her in!


Jodi's heart was hammering and she was panting through her gag!  The tiny space around her pinioned and gagged head was in total darkness!  Then, from somewhere overhead, a dim, blue-green light began to glow, as did a tiny screen set into the front wall of her distressingly small prison.  The screen was the size of an iPad, it may have been an iPad, and it was showing animated swirls of random color and shape in spinning, tumbling motion, one of those "Look how pretty!" graphic apps you could download to spruce up your smartphone or tablet.

Jodi wasn't very claustrophobic—Thank god!—but anyone would be terrified in her current predicament.  Her heart was hammering and she was panting through her ball-gag; however, she relaxed considerably when she realized a gentle breeze was blowing across her face.  A quiet fan was operating somewhere.  She couldn't hear it, but something was making the air move.

Suddenly the screen flashed and the pretty graphics were replaced by Eleanor's smiling face.

"Oh good," Eleanor said with an evil smile, "you aren't freaking out."

Jodi blinked and stared at her Mistress' beautiful face.  Apparently, Eleanor could see her face as well.  The screen must be an iPad, Jodi thought, or some other tablet with a camera.  As for not freaking out, Mistress Eleanor's assessment of her new companion's reaction to being boxed and entombed in the back of her bedroom's closet wasn't entirely accurate.


"Hush, Little Nymph," Eleanor chuckled.  "Now, you enjoy yourself while I take a quick shower, then attend to the matters at hand."

And with that, the screen flashed, Eleanor was gone, and the tumbling, polychromatic shapes returned.

Enjoy myself? Jodi wondered.  How the hell am I supposed to enjoy my—"Mrrf!"  The rubber banana nudging the entire length of her pussy, including her clitoris, had begun to vibrate!  Jodi shivered and moaned through her gag in response.  The banana continued buzzing... and began pulsing, varying the frequency and intensity of vibration... and now it began sliding back and forth... and it might have been spinning!  Jodi wasn't sure.

However, there was one thing of which she was very sure:  Whatever complex vibratory dance the thing was doing between her splayed legs and against her crotch—it felt good!  It felt very good!The Mystery of the Wax Museum!

The screen flashed, again, music began—ominous music—and a movie began to play!

What the hell? Jodi thought.  'Mystery of the Wax Museum?'   Eleanor expects me to watch a movie with a frakkin' vibrator buzzing between my legs?  The title gave way to the opening credits.  'Lionel Atwell?'  'Fay Wray?'  Make that an old movie.

As the credits continued, the vibrator eased back on its level of stimulation until it was barely buzzing.  It also stopped wiggling or spinning or whatever it had been doing.  It was definitely still vibrating, but just barely.

The credits ended and the opening scenes began.

Really?  Watch a movie?  Really?

Jodi heaved a tragic, long-suffering sigh through her gag.  It would appear that life as Mistress Eleanor's companion was going to be one rollicking adventure after another.

Suddenly, Jodi remembered to worry about whatever mischief Eleanor and Libby were up to while she was being "entertained."  Candy!  What's happening to Candy?

Jodi heaved another sigh.  I could talk her into taking the maid job.  I know I could.  Anyway, recruiting Candy was Eleanor's problem, and whatever tactics she might plan on using—or might be using at this very second—Jodi couldn't wait to hear about it in full detail at some point in the future.

The Mystery of the Wax Museum continued.  It was, indeed, old, meaning its cinematic style was really antiquated, but even just a few minutes in, Jodi had already decided it was good, as in fun-to-watch good, as in cult favorite good, as in spooky and creepy good.

Having nothing better to do at the moment, Jodi continued watching... and the Friendly Banana continued buzzing.


 Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Chapter 11