by Van © 2025
		Chapter 4

Jess had been nervous coming to the BiDS campus for the transfer to Becky Bynder's Bondage Boot Camp.  Bondage Training and Conditioning?  How could she not be nervous?  But then she was reunited with her old friend Kimmie Bynder and her jitters had turned to elation!  Back in the day (when they were little) they'd had minor roles in the same arguably forgettable kids' movie and had struck it off.  She'd always regretted them not keeping in touch over the years.

Also, she'd felt chagrin because of her abject failure at not connecting Kimmie's last name with the aforementioned bondage school.  It turned out Kimmie's mom ran the "boot camp" that would be familiarizing Jess with being tied up.  Amazing!  Speaking of which...

Shock!  Kimmie conspired with a really cute redhead with a British accent (Jess's BiDS escort) to take her prisoner!  Of course, she was reporting to the school to be taken prisoner, but still.

When the dust settled, Jess's wrists, thumbs, and elbows were plasti-cuffed (or zip-tied) together, and with an additional zip-tie pinning her upper arms to her torso!  The arm-pinning tie passed below her breasts and was linked to the elbow-plasti-cuffs yet using another zip-tie!  Also, a red-rubber-tongue-trapping-and-bite-protecting thingie now filled her mouth and her lips and lower face were plastered over by a wide, taut, off-white strip of medical tape!  In other words, Jess was bound and gagged!  In addition, a spandex hood (without eye-holes) covered her head (and the gag) and what she was absolutely positive was a dog collar with a steel chain leash attached was buckled around her neck, over the hood!

Jess knew something like this was going to happen.  She knew why she was here, but this is a bit much, she thought, don't ya think?!

Anyway... Jess was was now being led down a hallway somewhere in the BiDS headquarters building by her "old friend."  The floor under their feet was either tile or concrete sealed with epoxy and their heels tapped as they walked.  Jess supposed there was a chance she was being led by the British ginger with the wicked smile and pretty green eyes.  After all, the hood was an effective blindfold and for all she knew her captors had handed off to a third party, a complete stranger, but her money was on Kimmie.  Yes, she decided, she was almost certainly being led down the hallway on the end of a leash by Kimmie.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap...

It occurred to Jess that the heels of her stylish boots (that went so well with her pantyhose and plaid faux-schoolgirl-uniform mini-skirt and matching jacket) might more properly be characterized as clomping rather than tapping (like Kimmie's stylish high-heel pumps), but she decided they (her boot-heels) were tapping.  It was probably 'cause she was such a petite little thing (like Kimmie).  Anyway... her heels were tapping.  In fact, their heels were tapping.  Yes, all four heels were definitely tapping.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap...

Jess realized she'd cycled back to being nervous... very nervous.

Finally, they arrived... somewhere.

A door was opened and Jess was dragged (led) to what she could tell was outside the building.  At least she thought it was outside the building.  Chirp!  That had been a robin.  Yes, she was definitely outside... unless the BiDS headquarters building had a giant indoor aviary, which seemed unlikely.  Next, Jess was dragged (led) forward and forced (helped) onto the cushioned seat of what she was certain was some sort of... open vehicle.  She'd had to take a step up to settle into the seat.

"Mrrrf?" Jess inquired, but was ignored.  How rude!  A safety belt tightened across her lap and shoulder and was secured with an authoritative click!  Then, Jess's ankles were zip-tied together—Vriiip!—as well as her knees.  Vriiip!  Jess considered having her legs zip-tied together to also be rude.

There was a brief pause... then somebody (Kimmie?) plunked into the next seat, a lap and shoulder belt clicked into place, an electric motor hummed to life, tires crunched, and the vehicle rolled away.

It's a golf cart, Jess decided, proud of her keen deductive powers.  They weren't going all that fast, but she could feel and hear the air moving.  Yes, Jess was definitely being driven to her horrific bondage fate in a golf cart!  Then again, maybe it wasn't all that surprising.  Lots of studios use golf carts to get around, Jess reasoned.  Maybe Kimmie's taking me on a studio tour... a bound, gagged, and hooded studio tour... which makes no sense whatsoever.

Anyway, the journey lasted for... two minutes?  Something like that.  It wasn't very long.  The golf cart rolled to a stop, the quiet electric motor ceased humming, there was a pause while the driver—who Jess had decided she was ninety-plus-percent sure was Kimmie, even though she hadn't said anything for some time—left the drivers seat and tapped her way around the golf cart.  Then, there were clicking noises as Jess's knee and ankle ties were severed—Snick!  Snick!—her lap and shoulder belt was released—Click!—she was dragged (helped) from the golf cart's seat, and was now standing on her clunky boots, once again, still bound, gagged, hooded, and leashed!

The leash snapped taut, Jess took a stumbling step forward—"Mrrrf!"—and was steadied by a hand on her shoulder.

"Careful!" Kim's voice cautioned.  "I won't let you fall."  There was amusement in her voice, but also sincerity.

So, Jess's "guide" was Kimmie Bynder.  She hadn't been handed off into the hands of some unknown handler.  That was... reassuring?  Whatever.  At least it wasn't alarming, or no more alarming than everything else that was happening.  Jess had thought she was prepared to undergo "Bondage Training and Conditioning."  Now... she wasn't quite so sure.

They entered a building (Jess was 99% sure) and she was led down another unseen hallway.  The floor underfoot was hard, more tile or concrete, like before.  Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap...

The dark journey continued for several seconds.  Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap...  Then, a door opened, Jess was led across a threshold and into a room, and the door closed behind her... meaning them.

Jess felt the collar and leash around her neck being unbuckled and removed... then the hood was lifted from her head as well.  She blinked her big brown eyes and looked around.

The floor, walls, and ceiling were all smooth gray concrete and there were cloister-style windows of frosted and wire-reinforced glass up near the ceiling.  There was also a metal grid that supported track lighting and a heavier track with several motors or winches, all grouped together against the far wall.  Steel cabinets and shelving units lined the walls.  Obviously (probably), they were still on the BiDS campus, but Jess could neither see nor hear any aspect of film production.

Oh-by-the-way, standing directly in front of Jess was Kimmie.  The hood, collar, and leash were in her hands, which Jess took for final (and unnecessary) confirmation that the smiling little blonde had, indeed, been her golfcart driver and handler.

"Okay, here's what's supposed to happen," Kim said, then pointed up at the row of motors on the heavy-duty track overhead.  "I lower a rope and put a noose around your neck, then tighten it up 'til you're up on your toes.  That's to keep you from running away."  She pointed down at Jess's clunky boots.  "And if you try to kick me, I tie your ankles.  Then..."  She was smiling into Jess's tape-gagged face, once again.  "I remove your plastic bonds, peel you out of your clothes, wrap your fingers and hands in tape, then bind you in the first position on Mom's list."

Jess stared at her captor/friend, and resumed blinking.  Say what?

Still smiling, Jess gave a little shrug.  "Everything would happen sequentially, of course, and you'd remain helpless and, uh, controllable the entire time... and if you gave me too much trouble..."  She nodded towards one of the cabinets.  "There's a combination riding-crop and cattle-prod in there that should make you feel more cooperative."

Jess stopped blinking, her brown eyes popped to maximum width, and she took an involuntary step backwards.

"Not to worry," Kim chuckled.  "I do need to get you naked, your hands mummified, and the rest of you all tied up.  Mom is gonna pop in at some point to welcome you to the school and check on things, and she won't be happy if we're behind schedule, which means we need to get a move on.  Let me do what I've gotta do and I'll forego the duress... or most of it, anyway.  You will remain helpless as all of it happens, of course, no matter what, but there's no need for me to be overly... mean."  Her smile widened.  "Do we have a deal?"

Jess resumed blinking... and staring.  A few seconds passed... then she nodded, bowing to the inevitable.  After all, who wants to be shocked and/or otherwise tortured into submission?  Also, her production company was paying for half of everything that was happening to her and she did want to get her money's worth... but paying to be zapped?  No thank you!  That was a bit much.

Mattie Greene was... confused.

She'd been minding her own business, sharing a "dungeon cell" with Holly Warden, lounging around on a comfy canvas-clad mattress (like Holly), naked, bound from her big toes to her shoulders with a ridiculous amount of thin white paracord, gagged with a red rubber tongue-trapping-and-bite-protecting-gobstoppers and a mouth-sealing strip of medical tape, chained by a steel collar and dangling chain to the closest concrete wall (also like Holly).

Suddenly, Johari and Jane (Becky Bynder's gorgeous rigger/handlers) had barged in, unlocked Mattie's collar, and removed most of her paracord-bonds.  Then, Johari, the gorgeous dusky-skinned handler (as opposed to Jane, the gorgeous fair-skinned handler) had dragged her away, leaving Poor Holly behind to languish in solitude, all by herself and without her beautiful and companionable dungeon-mate and costar... or for Jane to do something to her—meaning Holly—not Mattie—who was busy having something done to her by Johari.

Then, the something in question had blossomed into Poor Mattie being subjected to a refreshing shower and soapy massage and her hair finally being restored to an appropriate state of gleaming brown glamor.  Granted, the rehabilitating coif was just a simple ponytail, but at least she was no longer contending with the former tangled mare's nest.  Also, the refreshing shower had been... refreshing... and that included the detailed cleansing massage (courtesy of Johari) which hadn't been all that bad.  Grabby hands and a lot of slippery sliding, yes, but not bad.

Anyway, now spanking clean (so to speak), her white paracord upper-body-bonds were still much reduced but inescapable and in place,  Her fingers and hands were still unavailable as they'd been transformed into fist-mummies (which, as it turned out, were waterproof).  Her tape-gag (with red rubber gobstopper glob) was also still in place.  And now, in addition,she had a black nylon webbing obedience collar locked around her neck and a black ball-gag loosely dangling around her neck with its ventilated ball resting on her chest, apparently (and inexplicably) acting as a ready-to-use backup gag!  Mattie was back in the hallway and being led to yet another unknown fate by Johari (who had changed back in her spandex shorts and sports bra).

It was a short journey.  Johari opened a door and led her prisoner into yet another room with a concrete floor, walls, and ceiling.  Waiting for them was Becky Bynder herself, resplendent in a pair of skintight, knee-length, spandex capri pants and a sports bra, both in a charming shade of ocean-blue that went well with her blond hair, blue eyes, and tan skin.  She rose from a comfy looking Modern-style chair with royal-blue padding, smiling broadly and visually examined her helpless client from head to toe, nodding with approval and apparent satisfaction.

"Very pretty," Becky cooed as she went up on the toes of her bare feet and planted a kiss on Mattie's right cheek, just above the edge of her tape-gag.  She then turned her happy grin to Johari.  "Excellent work, Jo-Jo."

Johari smiled politely, maintaining her firm grip on Mattie's left upper arm, apparently to make sure her charge didn't scamper back into the hallway and escape... or possibly attack her employer.

"Please, be seated," Becky suggested (ordered), indicating a padded footstool in front of the chair.  The other furnishings of the room were a low cabinet of blonde oak, a side-table with an elegant tea service for two, and a medical-style wheelchair tucked in the corner.

Johari released Mattie's arm, nodded to her boss, spun on her bare heels, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Mattie squirmed and tugged on her paracord bonds and blinked at Johari's strong back (and firm butt) as her handler made her departure.

"Ahem."  (That had been Becky.)

Mattie turned back to find the smiling blonde had settled back into her comfy chair and was repeating her graceful gesture.  Mattie decided she might as well accept the suggestion (meaning follow Becky's order) and sat on the footstool, facing her Head-Pretend-Kidnapper/Senior-Bondage-Instructor.

"Lean close, darling," Becky purred.  Mattie did so, and Becky peeled back a corner of the naked and helpless brunette's tape-gag, then slowly, carefully peeled it from her face.  It stretched her lips and skin as it surrendered its adhesive grip.  Next, Becky extracted the red rubber glob from Mattie's mouth and placed the tape strip and blob on the side table.  "Remember, your pretty collar is still turned on... so to speak... so no speaking."

Becky worked her jaws and licked her lips.  How droll, she thought (and drooled), but she knew it was true.  If she complained or whined or otherwise spoke... her throat would get zapped.

Next, thoughtfully, Becky produced a small towel and used it to deal with Mattie's residual saliva problem.  "There," she said, then placed the used towel on the side table next to the tape-strip and red rubber glob.

Mattie continued licking her lips and watched with interest as Becky poured tea into the service's two teacups... then added milk to one cup (which was the way Mattie preferred her tea.)  Hmmm... I could definitely use a cuppa, she decided.  (Actually, she'd been gagged for hours and needed to drink something.  It might as well be tea.)

Becky held the teacup (with milk) to Mattie's lips and she took a careful sip.  It was perfect.  Not too hot, not too cold, with just the right amount of milk, and was a delicious blend.  Brilliant!

Becky smiled as she took a sip from her own cup... then leaned to the side, slid open a drawer of the cabinet, and produced a comb and brush set.

"Turn around for me, Mattie," Becky requested (ordered), smiling and tracing a circular motion in the air with her free hand.

Mattie blinked a couple of times—shuffled 180° until her back, bound wrists, and mummified fists were to Becky—then stared at the far wall as Becky removed the elastic retaining her ponytail and began brushing her hair.  She had to admit it felt good.  She was being pampered.  She was a pampered prisoner.  She rolled her brown eyes and heaved a prudently silent sigh.

Becky continued brushing her client's hair... pausing only for sips of tea... and to provide sips to Mattie.  This continued until Mattie's teacup was empty.  Then, Becky divided Mattie's hair into three equal parts, deftly plaited it into a tight, neat braid, and secured its end with a tightly wrapped two to three inch sleeve of thin hemp cord.

Mattie was not a big fan of braids, whether in the form of a single braid (like the result of Becky's handiwork) or a pair of girlish pigtails.  Not that her opinion mattered... an opinion she couldn't even voice without getting her throat painfully zapped.  Anyway, Mattie had a braid.  She rolled her eyes, again.  Brilliant, she internally fumed.  Truth be told, after hours of being naked, gagged, tied up with a superabundance of thin white cord, and chained by the neck to the wall in a concrete cell next to Holly Warden, a shower and being pampered could only do so much to balance the scales.  She was beginning to regret agreeing to attend Becky's training program.

Becky returned the comb and brush to the drawer, slid it closed, then opened the cabinet's bottom drawer, its largest drawer.

Mattie's brown eyes popped wide.  The drawer in question was full to the top with neatly coiled bundles of twisted brown rope!

"Six-millimeter conditioned hemp," Becky said as she selected a coil, released its retaining hitch, and prepared it for use, "the finest bondage rope available."  She was still smiling her dimpled smile, her blue eyes sparkling with friendly maleficence (which was how Mattie was deciding to characterize her instructor/handler/captor's expression).  Becky settled a doubled loop of the hemp rope over Mattie's head and snugged it tight around her already cord-bound upper body.

Having no real choice in the matter, Mattie sat on the footstool as doubled loop followed doubled loop until a neat band of four strands passed above her boobs and an additional band of four strands passed below, pinning her arms to her sides.

There was a pause as Becky untied and removed Mattie's now underlying paracord bonds.  This was a somewhat delicate procedure, requiring Becky to loop a finger under Mattie's new hemp bonds and lift the bands so she could harmlessly remove the underlying paracord without undue friction.  Mattie remained helpless the entire time, of course, and not just by the threat of having her throat zapped.

Anyway, once Mattie was free of the white cord, Becky continued binding her naked client with more of the brown hemp.

"This is called a box-tie," Becky explained, "because with your arms folded behind your back, your shoulders and elbows form a box."  Rope continued slithering and squeezing tighter. "Understand?"

Mattie continued staring straight ahead at the far wall for a few seconds... then nodded once.  That was her only response, but fortunately it was enough.  Becky continued tying her up and didn't pause to use the remote to zap her throat for being sullenly impolite.

Finishing the box-tie took some time, but eventually Mattie's arms were, indeed folded behind her back with her fist-mummies snug against their opposite elbows,  In addition to the horizontal bands pinning her upper arms to her torso and framing her breasts, a pair of diagonal bands yoked her shoulders and ropes lashed her forearms together from elbow to elbow and fist-mummy to fist-mummy.  Everything was cinched, tight enough to lightly dimple her flesh and prevent anything from slipping or sliding whenever she started struggling.  (Mattie wasn't already struggling as at the moment there wasn't much point.  She considered it a good bet that at some point she'd be abandoned to do more languishing and decided to wait until she was alone... not that she had any chance whatsoever escaping from her fancy new "box-tie."  Becky also knelt at Mattie's feet, crossed them, and more hemp rope slithered and tightened around her ankles.

And while all of this tying was happening, Becky continued delivering a lecture, imparting what Mattie had to admit was valuable information about her immediate future.  The gist was:

■  For the first few days of the program Mattie and her costar Holly would be "exposed" to a series of what Becky (and the studios) considered to be the most photogenic (and therefore cinematic) bondage predicaments likely to be employed in Damsel-in-Distress scripts.  This included the box-tie, hogtie, shrimp-tie, frog-tie, the behind-the-head-two-hands-tie... and others.  As Becky didn't explain in any detail what any of the these ties entailed, most of the nomenclature (other than "hogtie) meant nothing to Mattie and the list was less than enlightening.  "Shrimp-tie" and "frog-tie" meant nothing to her... at the moment.  She strongly suspected that would soon change.

■  Helplessness (meaning real and not simulated helplessness) was a key feature of Becky's program.  For than reason, Mattie and Holly would remain naked until further notice.  It was Becky's position that an involuntary lack of clothing had a significant psychological impact on her student's state of mind (and Mattie had to agree).

■  Also for the purpose of enhancing Becky's student's helplessness, Mattie and Holly's fist-mummies would remain in place "for the next few days."  The costars' fingers and hands would remain unavailable for all purposes (including escape) until further notice.

■  Mattie and Holly's rigger-instructors would conduct all of the bondage exercises as if Mattie and Holly did not have fist-mummies impeding their escape efforts.  All rigging plans utilizing rope and/or cord would make extensive use of cinches and hitches to defeat any and all attempts to slip, slide, relocate, or otherwise manipulate the pattern's various elements, and in addition, all knots would be "puzzle knots" specifically designed to confuse and frustrate those unfamiliar with their details.  Even with the unencumbered use of their fingers, untying the knots would be exceeding difficult.  Also, the key knots would always be well beyond the theoretical reach of theoretically unencumbered fingers.

■  In addition to rope and cord, other materials would be employed in the course of the curriculum, including duct-tape, shrink-wrap, strips of cloth, police handcuffs, and more of the plastic zip-ties—but at least for now (meaning during the first few days) rope and cord would be the materials of choice.

■  And speaking of the first few days, Mattie could expect to be bound and gagged on a nearly continuous basis, "to help you get acclimated," as Becky explained it.  Then (at some unspecified point), half of each day would be devoted to fitness and physical conditioning.  Supposedly, there was a complete gym available, just down the hall, with the latest in state-of-the-art exercise machines, all of which supposedly incorporated inescapable restraints so the helplessness aspect of Becky's program could continue unabated.

■  Continuous gags would be the order of the day, at least initially; however, physical gags (such as the ventilated ball-gag currently in necklace-mode around Mattie's neck) would be alternated with "voluntary gags" (meaning obedience collars).  This would preserve the integrity of Mattie's unarguably pretty (and famous) lips, mouth, and lower face.

■  Starting with breakfast tomorrow, the students would receive the usual three meals a day, all nutritionally balanced, but tonight there would be no dinner (or midnight snack).  Missing a couple of meals was no real hardship for damsels as disciplined and in excellent condition as Mattie Greene and Holly Warden; however, Becky maintained, it was an excellent way to simulate distress... and it would only be for the first day, to get them in the proper frame of mind.

Lecture complete (apparently), Becky tied the final knot to Mattie's ankle-bonds.  The captive noted that the knot employed was, indeed, complicated and unusual.  Even though she'd had an excellent view and had watched it being tied, she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to untie it without extensive experimentation (and the use of unmummified hands).  Becky then stood, wheeled over the wheelchair, lifted and plunked Mattie into its padded seat, then dropped three additional coiled bundles of hemp rope on Mattie's lap and wheeled her out of the chamber.  Becky's gorgeous but arguably sinister dimpled smile had never wavered.

Mattie had accumulated many questions during Becky's lecture (in addition to a lengthy roster of protests and complaints) but had been unable to voice/register any of them for fear of getting her larynx electrified.  She had no choice but to sit on the stool, and now in the wheelchair, squirm now and then, and go wherever Becky was taking her.  She was naked, inescapably bound hand and foot with tight, expertly applied hemp rope, and virtually gagged by the obedience collar around her neck (with the ball-gag standing by to plug her pouting mouth if needed).  She had to admit that the helplessness aspect of Becky's program was solidly in place and was quite effective.

They rolled down the hallway, making turn after turn and passing door after door... then Becky paused to unlock and open a door, rolled her across the threshold, and Mattie found herself back in the "Concrete Dungeon" with the two twin-size and canvas-covered mattresses on the floor and the pair of steel collars with dangling chains solidly attached to opposite walls.  There was no sign of Holly, her costar.  Both mattresses and steel collars were damsel-free... at the moment... but not for long.

Mattie soon found herself on her stomach on the same mattress as earlier in the day, before her shower with Johari and the tea party and box-tying exercise courtesy of Becky.  Next, Becky prepared one of the three additional hemp coils for use, folded Mattie's legs back until her heels more-or less touched her butt and her calves were pressed against the backs of their respective thighs, then lashed her left leg, stringently enforcing the folded pose.  She then uncoiled the second bundle and lashed her right leg, making the folded-legs-pose even more permanent.  Both the left and right bindings were cinched tight enough to dimple her skin... like the box-tie binding her upper body.

"This is the 'frog-tie' I mentioned earlier," Becky explained, touching the neat band of rope binding Mattie's left thigh to her left lower-leg.

Frog-tie, Mattie thought, matching the term to her legs current condition.  Maybe there would be an bondage vocabulary quiz later and if so she wanted to get a good grade.

Finally, Becky prepared the third and final hemp coil for use... and proceeded to lash Mattie's already crossed and bound ankles to the nexus of her box-tie-bonds somewhere behind her back.  She repeatedly removed slack until Mattie's body was pulled into a spine-bending arc with her rope-framed breasts and frog-tied thighs threatening to lift off the mattress.  Her taut tummy, on the other hand, was pressed into the semi-soft mattress.

"There," Becky sighed as she sat back on her heels.  "To review..."  She touched Mattie's left thigh ropes again.  "Frog-tie."  She then touched the ropes pinning Mattie's left upper-arm to her torso.  "Box-tie."  Then, she gave a tug on the now taut and neatly wrapped rope linking Mattie's ankles to the box-tie in question.  "And the overall position is, of course, a hogtie."

Mattie squirmed and struggled... a little... testing her new bonds as best she could.  The box-tie based hogtie (with frog-tie embellishment) was stringent and tight, but not overly so.  At least that was Mattie's not-exactly-experienced initial  opinion.  Maybe she'd revise her opinion later... after a few hours... assuming Becky intended to leave her like this for an extended period of time... which Mattie considered to be a safe bet.

Becky watched her student/client wiggle for a few seconds... then leaned forward, unbuckled Mattie's ball-gag-necklace, popped its ventilated sphere into her mouth, and buckled it tight at the nape of her neck under her dangling braid.  She then unlocked and removed the obedience collar from around Mattie's neck.

This left Mattie finally free to criticize Becky's curriculum without getting her throat zapped, and she did so.

"Mrrrf!"

Becky ignored the vocalization, lifted the steel collar, and locked it around Mattie's neck, replacing the obedience collar and tethering her to the wall.

Mattie had been warned by the rattling of the dangling chain and had resumed her struggles with significantly more vigor, but (of course) was unable to to prevent the tethering process.  She'd also repeated her complaint—"MRRRF!"—but truth be told it was more a pathetic whine than an angry protest.

Becky stood, took a step back and crossed her arms under her breasts, and her smile widened.

Mattie continued squirming, fighting her bonds.  The chain rattled, but she didn't bother to continue testing her ball-gag.  It wasn't a terribly effective damsel-silencer, but it was effective enough.  Also, it allowed drool to escape her gaping mouth.  It occurred to her that eventually this would probably become an issue.  Nobody likes resting their face on a wet-spot.

"I'll be along shortly to put Holly to bed as well," Becky purred, then turned, wheeled the wheelchair out the door, pulled it closed, and turned the lock.  Thud.  Click.

Mattie's eyes widened in alarm.  Her worst fears were confirmed!  Becky was going to leave her like this until breakfast!  Her stomach grumbled, ungrateful for being reminded that it was empty.  She sighed, turned her head, and settled her ball-gagged face on the mattress.  At least the wet spot wasn't very big... yet.