(& Jennifer Hailey) in...
WORK OF BONDAGE FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2007
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to the twisted mound of gray wood, face down and limbs
akimbo in a haphazard
go!" she screamed again,
struggling against the web of braided rope with all her
The branches didn't even creak, and wherever there seemed to be
the slightest possibility
her pulling an arm or leg free, the ropes
tightened, additional loops appeared, and all slack
disappeared, as if by magic.
Meanwhile, the foot-tall "gremlin" (she didn't know what else to
the creature), was climbing the wood and positioning himself
head—and more of the little guys had
emerged from hiding and
were also climbing the pile. Most were mottled shades of
first, but some were streaked and blotched with other jungle
colors. As she watched, one of the gremlin's markings
As it climbed up the gray branches, its skin stopped mimicking
became a tangled riot of light and dark gray stripes, matching
weathered wood in shape and texture.
realized. They can
their skin color to match their surroundings, like
couldn't see them before. The gremlins were all
loincloths of leather or fur, and as they climbed, Sam could see
their feet were as dexterous as their hands, their big toes as
opposable and useful as their thumbs. She focused on the
gremlin, the one that had first revealed itself. "Look,
little—Ow! Let go!"
Three gremlins had clustered around Sam's head, gripping her
hair and pulling back her head, and the first gremlin was in her
face. He reached behind his back and produced a tiny
knife! The blade was gray-green flint, pressure-flaked to
scalloped edge, and the handle was bone, wrapped with
leather. "Qui-et!" the grinning little monster ordered,
pressed the blade against the side of her throat. "No
move! Or me kill."
Sam remained silent, and stopped struggling. It seemed the
prudent thing to do. From the corner of one eye, she saw
movement inside the
wood pile, and
realized more of the gremlins were crawling
around in its interior. They
there all along, she realized. It's where all the rope came
They were hiding under the
leaf-litter—or they were the
thick, straight stick was
passed through the tangle of branches to the waiting gremlins on
was about a foot in length and an inch and a half in diameter,
leather thongs had
into a two-inch ball around its
like a monkey-fist knot. The ball and
bit was approaching her mouth, and her
intentions were clear.
Sam decided to risk a protest, even thought the blade was still
flat against her left carotid artery. "No—Urmf!"
hands forced the ball and bit past Sam's lips and shoved it
until the ball snapped
behind her teeth. Immediately, a symmetrical network of
tightened around her head. They passed around her
across the bridge of her nose, and under her chin, and were
interlaced and hitched to anchor the gag firmly in her
mouth. The leather of the ball tasted terrible!
from Sam's chin almost immediately.
The first gremlin re-sheathed his knife and sat back on his
haunches. His green camouflage faded to a symmetrical
gray and brown stripes. He barked a stream of rasping and
guttural grunts and growls.
other gremlins paused to listen, then scrambled to obey what Sam
surmised were a series of commands in their own language.
Gremlins clamored over the wood and her
Some lashed additional rope around her limbs
and torso, but others were just as busy untying the ropes
the pile. Chattering and growling as they worked,
coordinating their efforts with intelligence and planning, they
Sam from the wood and maneuvered her to the ground.
this process, resistance was impossible. Groups of her
surprisingly strong little captors used long rope lines tied to
body and hitched through
convenient crooks and bends in the branches to control her arms
was a bound and gagged Sam against several large teams of tiny
simultaneous, multi-dimensional games
of tug-of-war. She never had a chance.
Eventually, after long minutes of struggle and manipulation,
Sam found her ankles bound with wide, thick rope
shackles. They were separated about a foot by a stiff
hobble, tightly wound around
multiple coils of a hangman's
knot. A strong stick was tucked against
her back and in the crook of her arms, and her wrists lashed
across her stomach. The bindings were thick, wide, and
elaborate, like the hobble. Additional rope strands
her helplessness, forming a network of hitched and interlaced
that yoked her
shoulders, passed through her crotch, and encircled her arms and
above and below her breasts. It was a cunning web.
Any attempt to gain slack by tugging or pulling in one direction
punished by ropes tightening elsewhere, and nowhere could her
much less untie, any of the elaborate knots.
The last line linking Sam to the wood-pile was released, and
slip-knotted nooses were tossed over her head and tightened
mewled through her gag as "King Gremlin" (it seemed an
appropriate name) gripped one end of her gag-bit with his left
and grabbed her blond locks with both hands.
"Up!" King Gremlin ordered. "You stand up—or me hurt!"
Sam managed to plant her feet and struggle into a kneeling
While she did so, King Gremlin
climbed atop her head, like a rider vaulting into the
big enough to sit against the crown of Sam's head with his legs
straddling her face and his feet gripping either side of the
if they were stirrups. The front flap of his loincloth
slapped against her forehead, and his musky, animal odor filled
"Up!" he repeated, and teams of gremlins shook her multiple
reinforce the command.
Sam struggled to rise. It was an awkward task, given
her bound condition, but she finally succeeded in standing
King Gremlin seemed to weigh about ten or twelve pounds.
more a humiliation than a burden.
handful of gremlins began climbing her body, using her ropes and
limbs for hand and footholds. Their tiny knives flashed,
of her bikini top and bottom were severed. Sam tossed her
twisted her upper body, but failed to dislodge King Gremlin or
minions. In response, the nooses around her neck
cutting off her air! A gang of a dozen or more gremlins
of the leash lines.
"No move!" King Gremlin ordered. He was maintaining her
ease, his feet gripping the gag-bit and his hands in Sam's hair.
Her brain starved for oxygen, Sam had no choice but to cease
her struggles. The nooses loosened, and Sam gasped,
King Gremlin stood on the bit and bent forward to glare into Sam's flushed
between his spindly legs. "You
slave!" he growled, brandishing a
tiny whip in his right hand. His left hand was still
Sam's hair. He cracked the whip in midair, then let the
slap against Sam's right nipple. "You go and you stop
when me say, or me hurt!" He snapped the whip again, for
Meanwhile, the gremlins
still clinging to her body pulled her makeshift bikini free from
bonds, and divested her of her watch, sheath knife, and dog
Sam watched as gremlins folded the bikini into a bundle, with
dog tags and its chain in the center, then scampered away, down
game trails. More gremlins carried away her knife and
well as the
radio, G.D.O., and the other "bait" items from inside the wood
pile. They resumed their active
camouflage only a few feet from
the tangle of branches, fading into the
landscape like shimmering ghosts. But
occasional shaking branch or fluttering frond, they were
invisible. No wonder we
saw them, Sam thought.
shouted, and two of the gremlin gangs turned and started
trail, marching in long lines with one of Sam's leash ropes on
shoulders. Sam had no choice but to stumble in their
remaining teams followed, ready to exert control if their
captive tried to bolt.
Bound, gagged, and helpless, King Gremlin riding her head as if
were his pony, Sam was angry, humiliated, and, quite frankly, terrified! Janet was
hope. But would her
diminutive friend be able to track her to wherever she was being
defeat a veritable army of
rescue her? ...or would she be captured herself?
BACK AT THE CITY...
She was lying on her back, on a soft bed, with a
over her body. The ceiling overhead was plaster, with a
like others she'd seen elsewhere in—
Her memory came flooding back. She was a prisoner!
been captured, bound and gagged, then transported in a cage,
clouds against the side of a fantastic airship, to a mountaintop
city. She was
strapped to a
terrifying interrogation table—and then her memory
failed her. She remembered Honna's face hovering above
everything was distant... as if it had happened to someone
else. Drugs, she
surmised, or some form of
control. Whatever they'd done to her—she couldn't
The room was rectangular and large, and, to Hailey's surprise,
it was not a
cell. The bed
had a stout wooden frame, with four round posts. There was
low table, across the room, and under it was a stack of
rectangular, pillow-like cushions. Everywhere the colors
light and airy. The walls were a
cushions were in washed tones of saffron, bronze, and
floor tiles were
glazed terracotta. And the woodwork—bed,
table and door—were like blond oak.
Hailey threw off
the top sheet and rolled off the bed—then immediately
froze in place! A steel chastity belt was locked around
and through her crotch! She also had a collar around
her throat! She examined the collar with her hands.
steel, and had smooth edges, inside and out. A steel ring
from the front, just like the one she'd seen on the collar
around Charis' beautiful throat.
Charis! A thrill
rippled through Hailey's sex and up her spine at the mere
thought of her name. Charis!
Hailey could feel no hinge or seam around the entire
collar; nor could she find seams, hinges, or even a locking
on the chastity
The bitches! she
on the belt's waistband, but it was on to stay. Bitches!
Other than the collar and belt, Hailey was naked, as naked as
always been since first waking up to find herself
padded to the wooden portal.
It was closed, of course, and there was no sign of a doorknob,
or any other way of causing it to open. Other
doors she'd seen in the city had opened via a switch
on the wall—but here there was no
on her side of the
anyway. I guess this is a cell, she realized, and
back to the center of the room. She looked up at the
skylight. The glass was clear, set in a wooden frame,
apparent mechanism for opening. Through it, she could see
edge of the gas giant, floating in a blue sky behind a
white cloud. In any case, the skylight was too far for her
to reach, even if she dragged over the bed, put the table on
up, and jumped.
Suddenly, the door opened, sliding into the wall with a quiet
swoosh. Hailey flinched
then turned to face the open portal.
Charis entered the room. (Charis!)
was dressed—no, the costume was
too skimpy to be called clothing—her body was decorated with a
loincloth and bandeau of black silk, little more than a pair of
gossamer ribbons. They did nothing to conceal her
and chastity-belt, or the curves of her perfect body.
Following in her wake were two women, both brunette and both
attractive... (like everyone
on this frakkin-frakkin
fumed). Their only clothing were loincloths of black-dyed
steel collars were locked around their necks. They were
carrying trays laden with numerous covered bowls, a ceramic
of crystal goblets.
Hailey waited until they were well into the room—then made her
break. She sprinted past Charis, who made no attempt to
and through the door.
She found herself in the middle of a long, straight passageway—and there were
guards, one pair at either end of the passage. They were
dressed in black linen bikinis and black leather harness and
similar to the "uniforms" of the guards and warriors she'd seen
before. The only things new
were the bronze pistols holstered on their
right hips. As Hailey appeared, all four heads swiveled in
direction. One guard nodded towards the
open door and patted her weapon with her right hand.
Hailey sighed, turned, and walked back into her cell.
The two "serving-slaves", or whatever they called themselves,
arranged the bowls, bottle, and goblets on the table, and were
out the cushions and making two piles. Dinner is served, Hailey
surmised. Come to think of it, she was hungry.
"I will see that you get exercise later, Jenny-fur," Charis
said, in a
slightly gloating tone.
Hailey glared at Charis (suppressing the wave of attraction she
the incredibly beautiful slave). "I demand to speak to
authority. I am a peaceful explorer and—what did you
"Jenny-fur," Charis answered. "Your name, is it not?"
"Jennifer," Hailey confirmed with a nod. "I usually go
Starting with her days at the Academy, Hailey had
fallen into the habit of answering to her last name, to
the point that she used "Jennifer" only during visits home or
"Hay-lee. Jenny-fur." Charis laughed. Your
have such amusing names." She nodded to the
they bowed and exited the room, smiling at Hailey as they
The door slid closed behind them and locked with an audible
"Come," Charis said, sitting on one of the piles of
"You have been sustained by Honna's healing machines for more
days. You must be
for some real food."
Hailey remained standing and glaring at Charis. "I
"I demand you sit and
Charis interrupted, still smiling.
"It's my duty to..." Hailey paused. Her mouth was
watering. Charis had begun uncovering the various
Meat, vegetables, sliced wedges of fruit, slices of bread,
cakes... it was a feast.
"Your duty to your home world is over," Charis
are now a slave of the PardaUbar."
Hailey bristled. "I'm no one's slave! I'm an
officer in the
United States Air Force and—"
"You were a
interrupted. "You are now a slave. Only the
may refuse the collar."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Charis sighed, un-stoppered the bottle, and filled the goblets
pink, effervescing liquid. "Only those born of Panther
choose their role in life. Warrior or slave, scholar or
hunter or farmer... only the Pardesse may choose.
criminals have no
"I'm not a slave!"
"You are a slave,"
answered, "a hungry slave."
a goblet to her lips and took a delicate sip. "Sit and
eat, and we can continue our fellowship in these pleasant
surroundings. Continue to be difficult, and other
indoctrination and education will be employed."
Hands balled in tight fists at her sides, Hailey continued her
Charis smiled. "You begin a journey down a path many
willing—and a very few,
not. Resist if you must, but you will be trained. I
"I won't be... 'trained'," Hailey
muttered, "and no matter what you do to me, I won't
Charis laughed. "Oh, Hay-lee, the Wise Council already
answers to all of their questions. I will be the one to
telling, and you will be the one to do the listening, and
"I'm not a slave!"
"You don't want to learn?" Charis asked, lifting a eyebrow in
surprise. "You don't want to learn of the thirteen slave
positions, how to dance in chains, how to serve food and paga,
ways to pleasure your Mistress?" Charis paused to sample
of roasted vegetables. "You are not even a little curious about the
Sam-anta Car-tur and Jaw-net Fray-zur?"
Hailey blinked, and her anger faded. "Samantha Carter...
Charis chuckled. "Yes, I have read the written records
interrogation; but words that do not directly transcribe, like
personal names, can be a problem." She patted the second
of cushions with one hand.
Hailey sighed, padded over, and sat. "Please," she said,
about my friends."
"As we eat," Charis responded, and handed the second goblet to
Hailey took a sip. The pink beverage was sweet, without
being too sweet,
and had a bit of a
kick. "Delicious," she conceded.
"It is called cher-pagesh," Charis instructed. "Flirting cher-pagesh, to
because of the pink blush. Not as strong as paga, but
enough. Limit your intake until you have something in
"Tell me about my friends," Hailey asked again, "please."
"Poor Little Flower," Charis cooed, leaned close, and kissed
Hailey shuddered with arousal. There was that perfume
Charis' musky, intoxicating perfume. "Please," she
Charis chewed and swallowed a morsel of roasted meat, then
answered. "The Air Armada searches for them, even
are in the wilderness, transported to one of several of the
seldom-visited hunting preserves. They will be found,
Charis smiled, and popped a chunk of meat into Hailey's mouth
answering. "And then... they will begin training
their own, Little Flower."
was curled up on her side in a pile of loose
leaves. It was night—and Sam hadn't
returned—and she was alone.
Sam's supper—more cooked
coelacanth, this time with roasted nuts and a banana-like fruit
nearby, wrapped in several large leaves and hanging from a cord
vines tied to a convenient branch. Janet knew that if
it down below, on the ground, the local critters would have long
carried it away.
Sam—where the hell are you??
thought, for the millionth time since sunset. The P90 was
side, its sling around her body—but it was cold
chastised herself. Despair led to disaster. In a
situation, morale was as important as food and shelter.
She couldn't give in
to her worst
fears—Sam lying someplace
with a broken leg—dying!
facing either slow starvation or years of solitary misery—until,
finally, she ended her days as some grizzled, old, barely human, jungle
No! Janet steeled
herself, and clutched the P90.
I'll find Sam, no matter what it takes, and everything will be
fine. We'll get back to the stargate, and back to earth!
She knew she needed at least some sleep. She'd catnap a few hours,
then leave camp.
The light of the stars would be more than enough to help her
waterfall clearing. By then the sun (or suns) would be on
rise, and the real search
And if Sam doesn't have one very
excuse for missing supper and
making me worry myself
full, the "cher-pagesh" bottle was empty... and she felt a
tipsy. Charis was gazing at her with hooded eyes, sipping
last of the pink liquid in her goblet. Hailey had learned,
the meal, that her men—Rasmussen, Beecroft,
and Perry—were back on earth, and alive! Charis claimed
people, the "PelluciGoreans", had a way to shift the plane of a
wormhole's event horizon across several dimensions, effectively
defeating any physical barrier blocking a stargate, like SGC's
iris. Charis couldn't provide a full explanation of the
or technology—which Hailey found to be very frustrating—not because the
self-described slave wasn't well-educated, but because she
"wise-artisan", which Hailey took to mean a scientist or
engineer. In any case, it lifted a huge weight from Hailey's
"Why were you worried about those... men?"
asked. Her distaste was evident.
Hailey downed the last of her drink, then turned to
were my men. I
responsible for them."
"They were your slaves?" Charis gasped. "The interrogation
suggests your world is run by men, like all worlds outside the
"I am a First Lieutenant in the United States Air Force," Hailey
growled, "an officer in the armed forces of my country.
were my subordinates and comrades. I was their leader."
Charis shuddered in disgust. "To associate with male
she whispered, then smiled. "Well, all that is behind you,
Hay-lee. Now you begin a new life, a life free of such
Hailey returned Charis gaze with grim determination.
you have in mind," she said, "I'll fight you."
Charis laughed. "That is
one aspect of pleasure, Hay-lee!" she
said with vigor. "Many a Mistress enjoys conquering
'rebellious' slave. It is a taxing game for the slave...
more so, if it becomes the slave's specialty."
Hailey could hear the quotes around "rebellious". She
she meant a slave that was pretending
to rebel. She resolved to teach Claris—to teach all of them—the true
was springing towards her—and before Hailey
her feet and react, the smiling slave was in her face.
balled her hands into fists—but then, to her
infinite surprise, all thought of resistance vanished.
kissing her face and nuzzling her neck. Her hair was
breasts and shoulders. And her
musky perfume! It was a fog, a poisonous, wonderful fog, that sapped
strength and destroyed her will to resist. Hailey returned
kisses with enthusiasm, thrusting her tongue into Charis' sweet
Then, Charis' mouth was gone, and Hailey found herself face-down
cushions. Her hands were behind her back, and something
tightening around her crossed wrists. "Hey!" she
Charis was sitting astride her buttocks and thighs,
and was using the black silk ribbon of her former bandeau to
"Quiet, Little Flower," Charis cooed, reversed direction, and
loincloth to bind Hailey's ankles. She then climbed
her feet, cradling Hailey in her arms like a
baby, and carried her to the bed.
Hailey struggled, weakly. Her head was spinning. She
watched as Charis removed her nipple shields and chastity
She couldn't see exactly how
accomplished. Nothing like a conventional (earthly) key
involved, but the tapping and sliding of a ring on Charis right
against the surface of the belt and the sides of the shields
serve the purpose. The now naked slave, naked but for her
leaned close, and removed Hailey's belt as well.
"Untie me," Hailey whispered.
"You must learn your place, Little Flower," Charis chuckled,
onto the bed, and snuggled against Hailey's writhing form.
breasts pressed together, and Charis' legs scissored around
bound legs, exerting a mild pressure. Her right hand slid
Hailey's back, between her buttocks and caressed her sex.
left hand gripped the
tangle of Hailey's blond locks, exerting gentle control of the
prisoner's head. "My Little Flower is blossoming," Charis
whispered, wiggling her fingers between the folds of Hailey's
labia. "She is dripping
Hailey moaned as Charis' tongue invaded her mouth. At
kiss with gusto—then she twisted her head to the side, breaking
contact. "No! I'm not a lesbian!"
Charis frowned. "A what?"
"I'm not homosexual." It was not
exactly an enthusiastic protest. Hailey
continued grinding her bound body against Charis's perfect
form. "I don't make love to
Charis laughed. "Oh, Little Flower, on PelluciGor, that
do not make love at all, and that is too sad to even
She kissed Hailey's lips and continued teasing her sex.
besides, what does gender have to do with pleasure?" She
Hailey's neck, nibbled her earlobe, and thrust her tongue into
captive's ear. "We can speak of this later," she
"For now, banish all thoughts of men, and of making love... to
Charis shuddered delicately, before continuing. "Think
pleasure, Little Flower."
Charis removed her hand from Hailey's sex, slid her index finger
her own sex, then
musk-laden digit to trace Hailey's lips and nostrils.
Hailey's mind exploded with
She struggled against her bonds, not to escape, but so she
could embrace her captor. Charis' hand slid between their
bodies, and resumed its intimate caress. Hailey thrust her
in response. She rubbed her hard nipples against Charis'
breasts. Charis' tongue was in her mouth, once
again, and they kissed—and Hailey's entire body erupted in
orgasm—and it went on and on—and then she collapsed against the
sweat-dampened sheets, rolling onto her back and bound arms.
Charis lay on her side, resting the side of her smiling face in
palm of her left hand. Her right index finger traced slow,
around Hailey's right nipple. "I told you I would see that
got exercise," she purred, then slid down the bed and thrust her
shoulders, and arms between Hailey's bound legs. Her
forearms kept Hailey's legs spread with pressure on her thighs,
fingers gently spread the prisoner's glistening, flushed
labia. "That was your warm-up," Charis announced,
delicately blew on Hailey's pink flesh.
"No!" Hailey moaned, writhing and shivering with delight.
"And now," Charis continued, "the true exercise shall
gave Hailey's sex a slow, languid lick, and the captive
"Nooo!" This time, her protest was a weak and decidedly un-convincing squeal.
"This is your first lesson in the basic use of the tongue and
instructed. "Pay close attention, for you shall be
demonstrate what you have learned, very