by Van © 2025
		Chapter 3

Jenna Ortega as... Jessica Flores

Jessica ("Jess" to her friends) Flores was nervous... but only a little nervous.  She certainly wasn't anxious, nor was she jittery.  As for scared... no way!  After careful reflection she decided to go with uneasy.  That was it.  She was uneasy about what was about to happen... what she'd volunteered to have happen.

Yes, Jess was uneasy, but it wasn't like she had anything better she should be doing... not at the moment.

The twenty-two-year-old highly successful actress was experiencing a somewhat unusual lull in her normally hectic schedule of production meetings or auditions for promising roles.  Despite her tender age Jess had already acted (or played bit parts) in over fifty movies and TV episodes, and recently she'd starred in a colossal hit series on one of the major streaming services.  Granted, the bulk of her early credits were as a child actor with few (if any) lines, but the point was Jess Flores was already a seasoned Hollywood veteran.  She was also wise beyond her years, and with her parent's consent and active cooperation had started her own personal production company (although the phenomenon of actors doubling as their own producers is nowhere near as unusual as it once was).

The point was, Jess Flores was world famous, her talents were in great demand, and she was recognized by the media as an "It Girl," which made it even more unusual that at the moment she was looking at an extended period of free time.  Her full lips curled in a chagrined smile.  Free time, she mused.  Very soon, she'd be anything but free.  The irony was... ironic.

Anyway, principal photography on Jess's next major film role wouldn't start for nine weeks.  It was an action/adventure comedy/farce entitled Corporate Divestment and in it she starred as a wealthy young heiress and college student who was "symbolically kidnapped" by a gang of young political activists and fellow students—snatched from her original kidnappers by a sinister cartel of exploitative tycoons—then snatched from the clutches of the cartel by an "eccentric" European aristocrat who just happened to own an Alpine castle with fully functional dungeons and torture chambers!  Finally, she would be "rescued" by the original gang of activists, various nefarious schemes would be foiled and/or dragged into the media spotlight, and all would be well that ended well.  Roll the closing credits.

The "peril" in Corporate Divestment would be played for laughs, of course, but in keeping with the current trend towards the realistic depiction of Damsels-in-Distress, Jess would be thoroughly and stringently tied up and/or gagged and/or bound and/or restrained to various insidious torture engines/devices in at least a third of the pages of the current draft of the script, and the producers had made it crystal clear that they had no intention of invoking the comedic exception to the industry's newly recognized Authentic Bondage requirement.

Also, Jess needed to add formal bondage training to her resume, a requirement all actresses were now facing, and she needed to get that particular ticket punched to prepare for Corporate Divestment and any for future DiD roles.  Fortunately, she knew just where to go: Beauty in Distress Studios, the new and very successful film-making corporation run by the famous "Gibson Gazillionaires."

[AUTHOR'S NOTE:  See Fox Hunt (Story #77) for the "juicy details."]

Jess was already on the short list to star in a major role in a major BiDS project (The Blonde: Double Cross), so her request for assistance in finding reputable and responsible bondage training had the added benefit of demonstrating her personal commitment to BiDS' new wave of realistic DiD Cinema.

As if turned out (and in no way to Jess's surprise) BiDS already had a "bondage training and conditioning" subcontractor they worked with.  It had the unlikely name of "Becky Bynder's Bondage Boot Camp," and BiDS took care of everything required to book her into their program.  They even talked the Corporate Divestment producers into footing half the bill and paid the other half themselves.  (Jess took this as strong evidence that she had the role in the Blonde movie more-or-less in the bag, even though it was too early to sign a contract.

So...

Jess was in the backseat of a luxury sedan with tinted windows, speeding down the highway (meaning was stuck in stop-and-go traffic), and on her way to the BiDS campus to meet the Bynder organization's representative.  She was wearing a new outfit of stylishly clunky black ankle-boots—gray pantyhose—a plaid mini-skirt (deep-red and golden-tan on a black background)—a matching plaid blazer—and a French-cut black t-shirt with a short lower hem that revealed a glimpse of her lower tummy above the waistband of her skirt at the feeblest excuse.  The ensemble was evocative of a schoolgirl uniform (arguably) and emphasized Jess's diminutive stature and waif-like beauty (and that had been her intent).  Early on Jess had discovered that presenting as a naive teenager often gave her an advantage in business negotiations, and it was a trivially easy disguise for Jess Flores to adopt.  Her long, straight, dark-brown hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail and trailed down her back while her brown eyes were hidden behind a dark pair of ridiculously overpriced designer sunglasses.

Already briefed on the studio's paparazzi problem, when the uniformed driver warned her they were a block from the BiDS main gate Jess ducked down in the back seat and effectively hid.  Apparently the clever subterfuge succeeded because the sedan was ushered through the gate without a din of shouted questions and/or flashing photographic strobes.  They stopped at the studio headquarters building's front entrance and were met by a very pretty twenty-something redhead with a charming British accent.  The ginger issued Jess a BiDS Visitor's badge and explained that she would be her escort.  Jess thanked the driver ( Flores always went out of her way to be nice to everybody, no matter their job), then followed her pretty (gorgeous) and equally petite guide into the building.

Jess continued following the ginger through what was obviously the central hallway, returning the smiles of the BiDS executives and workers that they passed.  Yes, Jessica Flores was being recognized.  It was something she was used to, especially in entertainment industry settings, but everyone was polite and professional.  The journey through the headquarters happened without interruption.

Finally, the smiling redhead opened a normal looking office door, led Jess across the threshold, and waiting for her within was...

Jess's smile widened.  "Kimmie?"

"None other," Kim Bynder acknowledged, smiling back.  She then hurried forward and pulled Jess into a warm embrace, which was returned.

The diminutive Latina and equally diminutive blonde had starred together in a movie tailored for the juvenile market a few years back, when they'd been little kids.  They'd become instant friends.

"What an idiot I am!" Jess said with a chagrined little smile.  "I should have known you'd be involved in this.  'Becky Bynder's Bondage Bootcamp.'  Who is 'Becky?'  Your mother?  Sister?  Cousin?"

"Mother," Kim confirmed.  "It's a family business."

"But you're still acting," Jess stated.  "I saw you in that Rom-Com last year."

"A small role," Kim responded, "but yes, I'm still acting.  Helping Mother with her bondage training business is a part time gig."

Jess inspected her friend up and down.  The grinning blonde was dressed for business in a very smart heather-gray skirt and jacket, white blouse, pantyhose, and black high-heel pumps.  Jess thought she looked very cute,  "There are no small roles," she chided her fellow actor.  "You were good."

"I played the scandalized daughter and had something like twelve lines," Kim huffed.  "I did get to hone my eyes-rolling skills."  She demonstrated the exasperated-eye-roll in question and they laughed.

"You're here to take me to the school?"

"Mother would have come herself but it's a very busy day," Kim explained.

Jess glanced at the smiling ginger BiDS guide, then focused on her blonde friend and her smile faded.  "What's it gonna be like?" she inquired.  "It's not gonna be too bad... is it?"

Kim's smile turned slightly... feral?  Jess decided to go with feral.

"That would be telling," Kim purred, then took hold of Jess's arms and spun her around 180°.

"Hey!"  Jess's big brown eyes popped wide.  "What are you"—Vriiip!  Vriiip!—"Kimmie!"  She realized Kim had quickly and efficiency tightened a pair of plasti-cuffs around her wrists, binding her hands behind her back!  Kim then spun her back around so once again they were face-to-face.

Jess caught a flash of bright red in Kim's hand, some sort of rubber or plastic blob rapidly approaching her mouth, then—"Hey!  Mrrrpfh!"—Kim shoved the object in question into said mouth!  "Mrrrf!"  Jess decided the glob was definitely rubber.  Also, it more-or-less filled her oral cavity to capacity, had a sculpted cavity that trapped her tongue, and an integrated double tray that acted as a bite protector and immobilized her jaws!

Apparently satisfied that the whatever-it-was-called was properly seated in Jess's mouth, Kim simultaneously spun her childhood friend (and now prisoner) around, once again, tightened her left arm through Jess's arms, and clamped her right hand over the wide-eyed Latina's mouth.

Jess wiggled and squirmed in Kim's embrace—"Mrrrf!"—and continued trying to register her surprise and to object to the way she was being handled.  "Nrrrmpfh!"  Alarmingly, the ginger BiDS guide had stepped forward, pulled an off-white rectangle from her jacket pocket, and peeled off its paper backing.  "Mrrrk!"  It was a wide strip of medical tape, the ginger was stretching it between her hands, and it was approaching Jess's hand-gagged and rubber-filled mouth!

With deft precision Kim's hand pulled away and the ginger instantly pressed the strip over Jess's lips, mouth, and lower face—then smoothed it with her strong, pale, lightly freckled fingers.

"Mrrrpfh!" Jess complained, tugging on her plasti-cuffed wrists and stomping in her stylishly clunky boots.

Kim released her grip on Jess's arms and strolled around Jess to stand beside the ginger.

Jess looked from the smiling face of the grinning blonde to the fair-skinned, lightly freckled, and also grinning ginger and continued tugging on the cuffs.  She noted that both of her captors' smiles were now fully feral.  They were gloating like crazy.  It was... disturbing.

"It's a start," Kim stated, then stepped behind Jess and tightened a second pair of plasti-cuffs around her upper-arms, this time just above her elbows.  Vriiip!  Vriiip!  She then tightened a long, horizontal cable-tie around Jess's body just below her breasts and over her plasti-cuffed elbows, effectively pinning Jess's arms to her torso.  Vriiip!  She then closed a much shorter cable-tie around the back of the arm-pinning cable-tie and the elbow-binding plasticuffs and snugged it tight.  Vriiip!  Finally, she tightened a small cable-tie around Jess's thumbs, binding them together!  Vriiip!

Jess blinked her worried brown eyes above her taut tape-gag and watched while Kim bent down and pulled a pair of steel clippers from a side-pocket of a black nylon gym-bag resting on the floor.

The bag had been the source of the plastic ties and cuffs, but Jess hadn't given it much notice until now as she'd been too busy reuniting with Kim and then being kidnapping by the smiling blonde and the smiling BiDS ginger.  Jess resumed struggling against her now more stringent and restrictive bondage, then stood still, once again, as Kim stepped behind her and used the clippers to sever the dangling and shaking free ends of all of the milky-white plasti-cuffs and cable-ties.  Snick-snick-snick-snick... etc.

Jess resumed struggling as Kim returned the clippers and the severed plastic ends to the gym-bag, then pulled out a black spandex cloth which—"Mrrrfh?"—she pulled over Jess's head!  "Mrrrpk!"  It was a hood—a more-or-less skin-tight and light-proof hood!

"Mrrrrrf!"  At least I can breathe, Jess consoled herself as she continued tugging on her bound wrists and thumbs and trying to twist her upper-body.

And then, making matters even worse, something tightened around her spandex-clad neck and was buckled tight.  It's a collar, Jess realized, a dog collar!  It even had some sort of lead attached.  She strongly suspected it was a steel chain with nested links, a leash, and she could hear it rattling as it flopped around!

"Mrrrrrpfh!"

Suddenly, the attached leash snapped taut!  "Mrrrk!"

"Settle down," Kim's voice purred.  Her flaxen-haired supposed friend was gloating again.  Jess could tell, even though she was now effectively blind.

"Uh... Kim, have you had a chance to talk to your mum about me, uh, visiting your school?"  (Kim recognized the voice as belonging to the traitorous and villainous but gorgeous little ginger with the British accent and jacket pocket full of ready-to-use tape-gags-strips.)

"Sorry," Kim responded, "but things are really hectic right now, as you know.  I'll try and sneak you in later, before you-know-who gets here, but that's the best I can do."

The ginger heaved a disappointed sigh.

"Buck up," Kim chortled.  "If I ask Mom right now she'll just say no, and if I sneak you in now and we get caught, I'll spend the next twenty-four hours hogtied in one of the Languishing Cells... and you'll spend the next month acting as Jane and Johari's experimental Bondage Barbie.  Have you got any vacation days racked up?"

The ginger sighed again, then muttered "Yes."

"Good," Kim responded.  (Jess could hear her smiling.)  "In that case your boss at BiDS probably won't fire you for going AWOL to play Damsel-in-Distress on the studio's time.  It'll be better if l ask Mom when the time is right, which I will.  I promise.  Later."

"Later," the ginger responded.  The disappointment in her voice was evident.

Then, the tug on Jess's new collar and leash increased.  She had no choice but to step off and "allow" herself to be led away... to some unknown destination.  Kim was taking her for a walk!

Their heels tapped on the hard floor.  Tap-tap-tap-tap...

"Mrrrf!" Jess complained.

"Don't worry," Kim purred (gloated).  "I won't let you bump into anything."  Tap-tap-tap...  "And in case you haven't already figured it out," the unseen gloating blonde added, "you've been kidnapped."

Under the hood Jess rolled her big brown eyes.  Oh, that's what's happening.  The journey continued.  Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap... etc.

Matilda Greene was not a happy camper.  Why?

(1.)  She was naked.

(2.)  Her latex-glove-clad and super-glue-secured fists were mummified by overlapping layers of clear adhesive tape, trapping her fingers and making them useless for purposes of escape.

(3.)  She was bound from her big toes to her shoulders by a plethoric profusion of thin white cord tied in an elaborate matrix that limited her bodily motions to squirming, wiggling, and flopping around in the manner of a fish-out-of-water.

(4.)  A large, tongue-trapping, and bite-protecting lump of red silicon-rubber filled her mouth more-or-less to capacity and her lips were sealed by a wide strip of some sort of off-white medical tape that prevented her from expelling the molded red glob in question.

(5.)  A shiny steel collar locked around her neck was tethering her to the wall of her dungeon cell by means of a long trailing chain.

(6.)  She was reclined on a twin-size mattress sheathed in an envelope of natural canvas and resting on the concrete floor of said dungeon cell.

Oh-by-the-way, lying on an identical mattress on the floor of the very same cell and identically naked, bound, gagged, collared, and tethered was Holly Warden, her good friend (meaning casual acquaintance) fellow actor, and costar of their forthcoming production.

Also oh-by-the-way, Mattie's normally shining and carefully coiffed hair (gleaming brown with strategically placed frosted blond strands) was a tousled, tangled, and disheveled mess.  Holly's brown tresses were no better, and by her periodic efforts to free errant strands from her tape-gagged face she was just as displeased by her lack of proper coiffure.

Also, all of Mattie's jewelry had been confiscated, meaning her ear-posts, three rings, and a charm bracelet.  Holly had suffered a similar outrage.  They were assured they'd get everything back at the conclusion of the training program, but it had been... humiliating?  Dehumanizing?  A display of capricious and arbitrary power?  All of the above?  In any case, she didn't like it.  Any of it.

Mattie rolled on the mattress... now and then... for comfort.  She certainly wasn't trying to escape.  She noted that Holly was doing the same.  Their chains rattled whenever they did so.  It was... musical?

So, why was she so calm (and Holly as well)?  In the first place, Mattie's production company was paying for a fair percentage of what was happening to her (and Holly's company for what was happening to her).  In the second place, she (and Holly) accepted the value of realistic training to prepare for their impending demanding roles.  In the third place (and most importantly), the training in question had only just started and she didn't want to seem like a wimp.

Also, an energetic display of outrage and/or terror and/or distress would be exhausting... not to mention totally pointless.  Mattie's captors/instructors were absent and therefore unable to appreciate a demonstration of dissatisfaction.  Holly was present, of course. but she already knew how Mattie felt... exactly how Mattie felt.

Anyway... now and then... Mattie and/or Holly's chains continued to rattle as they wiggled and squirmed for comfort.  Otherwise, the prisoners simply... languished.

Time passed...

Suddenly, a key turned the lock of the steel door of their cell.  Click!  The door opened, and Jane and Johari—Becky Bynder's assistants with the superlative rigging skills and grabby hands—strode into the cell, returning to the scene of their crime—and they were making a beeline for... Mattie!

"Mrrrf?"

Oh-by-the-way, Jane and Johari had shed their tracksuits and were now clad in spandex running-shorts and sports-bras, presumably what they'd been wearing underneath.  For that reason, the villains/handlers/riggers were now showing a great deal of firm, smooth, gleaming, pale and dark skin (respectively).  They were barefoot, (like their students/captives); however, their big toes were not tied together with white cord (unlike their students/captives).

Anyway, Jane and Johari descended on Mattie and began untying her bonds, rolling her on the mattress as required to expedite the process.  This took some time, but not nearly as much as it had to tie her up in the first place.

Holly lay on her side and watched with understandable interest as her costar was released from her cord bondage.

Once she was cord-free, Mattie tried to resist (although she wasn't entirely sure why), but was unable to prevent her handlers from replacing her formerly highly redundant cord bondage with much simpler but equally inescapable cord bondage.  When the proverbial dust had settled, Mattie's upper-arms were pinned to her sides by three neatly stacked horizontal doubled loops of cord (six individual strands) above her breasts... three more doubled loops (six more strands) below her breasts, and everything was cinched between her arms and torso by doubled strands that passed behind her head and yoked her shoulders.  Also, Mattie's lower arms were folded behind her back and her wrists crossed and lashed against her spine to the nexus of her other bonds... and that was it.  From the waist down, all the way to her toes, Mattie was now "free" (and covered with pink linear indentations left on her skin by her former cord bonds.

Then, Mattie wiggled, squirmed, and complained—"Mrrrrmf!"—as her collar was unlocked and removed and she was lifted up to stand on her bare feet.  She wasn't sure why, exactly, she'd "resisted" the change from elaborate overkill bondage to much less elaborate and restrictive (but still inescapable) and collar-free bondage, but she had.  As for her occasional well-muffled vocalizations, if she was going to wiggle and squirm she might as well make a little noise, right?

Anyway—"Mrrrf!"—Johari hustled their naked, bound, and gagged prisoner out the cell door and down the hallway.

Still naked, elaborately and redundantly cord-bound from toes to shoulders, her fingers and hands reduced to fist-mummies, tape-gagged (with tongue-trapping and bite-protecting mouth-plug), chained by her neck to the wall, and lying on her side on her canvas-covered mattress, Holly watched as Jane coiled and secured the tangled mass of paracord that had been the overwhelming majority of Mattie's former bonds.  This took awhile... but Holly had nothing better to do than watch.  It beat languishing... or was a less boring form of languishing.

Finally, Jane bundled the many paracord coils together with the last length of cord, settled it over her shoulder like a bandolier, paused to smile down at Holly... who blinked her big brown eyes above her tape-gag in response... then padded through the cell door, closing and locking it behind her.  Click!

Holly heaved a sigh... then settled her head back down on her pillow.  She didn't bother testing her bonds.  Jane and Johari hadn't messed with her bondage, which she already knew was totally inescapable.  They hadn't changed her situation at all, other than to deprive her of her former naked, bound, and gagged companionship.  Holly's languishing was now solo... which was truly tragic.

Johari dragged (led) Maddie down the corridor... past steel door after steel door... then paused to unlock and open one of the doors and drag (lead) her into the rather large space beyond.

The walls and floor were clad in large, square, ceramic tiles in a pale, pastel shade of Jess-green.  A row of lockers and cabinets were near the door and several shower heads were mounted in the ceiling and at roughly shoulder height at the far end.  Also, off to the right was a shallow alcove with a stainless steel commode and to the left was a steel washbasin with a mirror mounted on the wall above.

Without pause, preamble, or proclamation Johari led Mattie to the commode and plunked her down on the seat.  It was stainless steel, like the rest of the commode, and was cold.  (Okay, it was chilly.)

"Empty your bladder," Johari ordered.

Mattie blinked a few times, then blushed and did so.  She wasn't unusually body-shy in gym or spa situations, but her current circumstances were... unusual.  Anyway, she accomplished the ordered voiding task... then Johari lifted her to her bare feet and led her to the locker area.  The captive watched as Johari opened one of the tall, narrow lockers and proceeded to undress and hang her sports-bra and running-shorts from a double hook in the back.  She hadn't been wearing panties or a thong under the skintight shorts, so she was now totally nude.

Mattie had briefly considered making a run for it, but with her fists mummified and her wrists crossed and tied behind her back just below her shoulder blades, it would be a very iffy proposal just getting the door to the hallway open.  In fact, it probably would have proved impossible... although she might have been able to do it using her feet and toes.  Also as attractive as the prospect of an extended naked footrace with her gorgeous dark-skinned handler might be, Mattie was bound, gagged, and above all didn't know where she should be trying to run to, whereas Johari was entirely familiar with their surroundings in full detail (or so Mattie assumed).

Anyway, once Johari was au natural she led Mattie to the shower area, reached for the balancing-valve mounted on the wall, and turned on the water.  The shower heads sputtered, then water jetted from all the heads in steady streams... and in only a few seconds Mattie could tell that stream was hot.  There was steam in the air!

Johari then led Mattie into the convergence zone of the streams and—"Mrrrf!"—she confirmed for herself that the water was hot.  Also wet... very wet.  Mattie was being pummeled by pulses of hot water from every angle... and after only a few seconds of adjustment... she decided it felt good... like a massage... because it was a massage... and Johari's hands were participating!

Something like a hot, wet, invigorating minute passed... then Johari released Mattie's body, padded (squelched) to the side, and turned off the water.  She then reached into a tiny alcove and pumped several dollops of some sort of gel into her hands, then rubbed them together and padded back to Mattie.

Mattie noted suds developing between Johari's fingers and palms, as well as a floral scent that was now filling the humid air.  She then flinched when Johari rubbed her now foamy and well-lubricated hands over her (Mattie's) body!  "Mrrrrr!"  That had been neither a complaint nor a protest but more of a casual utterance, and quite possibly a positive casual utterance.  Go figure!

All too soon—as outrageous as it might seem—Mattie was clean!  Also, the aches and pains that had accumulated back in the Languishing Dungeon were more-or-less in total remission.  Also, the rope-marks (meaning cord-marks) from said ordeal had faded significantly and she could see no bruises or rope-burns on her smooth, shining skin..

Johari made sure her charge was thoroughly rinsed and 100% soap-free, including Mattie's sopping wet hair.  She then turned off the water, led Mattie back to the locker area, pulled a large, fluffy, white, terrycloth towel from within a steel cabinet, and put it to use... on herself.

Her body dripping and her sopping hair hanging in soggy strings, Mattie watched as Johari toweled herself dry, including her hair, then gave herself a towel-turban, smiled at her still wet captive, and reached for a second towel.

The second towel was for Mattie, of course, and Johari was thorough and brisk, rubbing the thirsty cloth across her captive's bound body... including her bare feet, legs, crotch area, hips, butt, waist, breasts, and the rest of her.  She took her time... but eventually Mattie's skin was unarguably dry and her damp hair bundled in a terrycloth turban identical to Johari's.

Then, Johari opened a drawer in another cabinet, reached in, and withdrew... a ball-gag!  It was black with chrome-steel hardware and its mouth-plugging sphere was black silicon-rubber, hollow, and perforated by a row of three breathing holes in front and a single slightly wider hole in the back, meaning the inside-the-mouth side.

Mattie blinked in confusion.  She was already gagged.  Johari hadn't peeled off her tape-gag, nor had she plucked the red, mouth-filling, tongue-trapping, and bite-protecting glob from her mouth.  Was she going to do that now and replace the tape-gag with the ball-gag?

As it turned out, no.

Johari buckled the ball-gag in place, but on the strap's first hole, leaving it dangling around Mattie's neck with the perforated ball resting on her chest like some sort of absurd necklace.  Mattie now had two gags, one plugging her mouth and sealing her lips, and the one loosely dangling around her neck... apparently as a spare.

And then, Johari reach back into the drawer and produced... a collar?  It was black nylon webbing with black plastic hardware, and incorporated a compact rectangular plastic box with a pair of well-rounded copper studs visible on the inside, the side that would rest against the wearer's throat!

Mattie's big brown eyes popped even bigger!  "Nrrrf!"  It was a collar!  In fact, she was positive that it was an obedience collar!  Her reaction was decidedly negative.  In fact, as pointless as it might be, she took a barefoot step back and turned to flee—but Johari was too quick.  She grabbed Mattie's shoulders, spun her around, and snapped the collar closed around her neck!  C-click!

"Mrrrf!"

Not only was the snap-buckle closed, but Mattie strongly suspected her handler was now turning what was almost certainly a key in the buckle's integrated lock!  Click!  Johari spun her around again and Mattie found herself staring at a compact rubber-clad object similar to a modern automobile key-fob in Johari's hand, and dangling from the fob by a short chain was a small barrel-style key.

"No more complaining," Johari intoned, her lips curled in a gloating smile, then pressed a red button on the fob.

"Mrrr-URK!"

An electric shock had zapped Mattie's throat!  The collar was indeed an obedience collar, and obviously the red button on the fob had turned it on!  Mattie blinked her big brown eyes and shivered in her bonds.  She would like to whine in a pathetic and empathy-engendering manner, but it didn't seem prudent.  Instead, she stood, perfectly silent (and helpless), and watched as Johari turned, opened the locker containing her running-shorts and sports-bra, and dressed herself.  Mattie remained naked, upper-body-cord-bound, tape-gagged (with a ball-gag spare), and obedience-collared... and watched.

Next, Johari removed her towel-turban, pulled a comb and brush from a cabinet drawer, and began deftly and quickly dealing with her hair.  She didn't bother padding over to use the mirror mounted above the washbasin, just quickly and deftly combed the tangles out of her black hair, brushed it with several brisk strokes, then pulled it back in a severe ponytail.  She then reached into the drawer, produced a small hair-elastic, and looped it around the base of her ponytail.

And then, Johari spun Mattie around, again, and did the same for her prisoner.  Soon, Mattie was free of her towel-turban and her still slightly damp brown tresses brushed, pulled back, and secured in a tight ponytail.

Johari tucked the obedience collar's control-fob (and its dangling barrel-key) into the waistband of her shorts, tossed the damp towels into a hamper, closed all the drawers and locker/cabinet doors, and led (dragged) Mattie from the shower room.

Her handler clutching her left arm, Mattie padded down the hallway to her next horrific and/or ghastly unknown fate.  Okay, that was being overly melodramatic, but Johari was taking her somewhere, and once they got there something was going to happen.  Also, she was naked, her upper body and crossed wrists bound with white paracord, her latex-gloved and super-glued fists mummified in clear tape, her mouth plugged and her lips sealed by a wide strip of off-white tape, a spare ball-gag dangling around her neck, and an obedience collar ready to zap her larynx if she so much as whimpered.

Mattie felt perfectly entitled to be a little melodramatic.