by Van © 2025
		Chapter 6

After an hour of careful experimentation and studied consideration Holly Warden arrived at the inevitable conclusion that being stringently hogtied really sucked!

Also, having her big toes tied together and to the end of her tightly braided hair sucked even worse!

Also, being naked, ball-gagged, with a steel collar locked around her neck and tethered to the wall of a concrete cell by a sturdy steel chain... didn't help the situation.

Granted, her helpless body was resting on a twin-size mattress clad in canvas that in turn was resting on the cell's floor, so she had at least some degree of "comfort."  In addition, she had the companionship of Mattie Greene, her fellow thespian, costar of their current film project, and good friend (meaning amiable acquaintance).  The problem was... Mattie was also naked, ball-gagged, collared, chained to the opposite wall of the same cell, and was just as stringently hogtied as Holly herself, and with a similar big-toes-to-braid embellishment!  The fine details of their predicaments weren't totally identical, but the similarities were more than enough in terms of stringency.

Also... fist-mummies.  Holly's hands were clad in skin-tight latex gloves, clenched into fists, secured with super-glue, then wrapped in clear latex tape for added security.  Her fingers were utterly useless and entirely unavailable as escape aids.  Again, Mattie shared the same condition.

The fist-mummies were insidious.  It was one thing to by tied up by a competent rigger (Holly had recently learned that experts in the field of tying up people were called "riggers") and something else all together to be unable to do anything about it even if the rigger in question was only marginally competent and had done a crappy job applying the rope and positioning the key knots... and Becky Bynder and her employees Jane and Johari were quite obviously highly competent and didn't seem to have made any mistakes.

Also, Holly was contending with multiple layers of helplessness, both physical and psychological, and obviously that was Becky Bynder's studied intent.  In fact, it was an integral element of her training program, and it was only the first day!

"Mrrrmpfh!" Holly complained halfheartedly... for no logical reason.

"Mrrrrrfh!" Mattie agreed... also halfheartedly and for no logical reason.

We both seem to be on the same page, Holly silently noted as she gazed at her costar's weakly squirming form.

Holly remembered watching Mattie's work when she was just a kid.  At the time Holly had also been just a kid, of course, and had been busy with her own early career; but she had to admit the naked, hogtied, collared, and gagged Brit sharing the cell with her was a gifted actress.  Oh by the way, in the interim Mattie had grown up.  She was now a young woman in her twenties... her early twenties... and had boobs.  Holly was also a young woman in her twenties... and also had boobs... and objectively she knew she was just as much of a hottie as Mattie Greene... but she had to admit her fellow prisoner/student was a looker.  Holly wasn't in any way jealous, of course.  She was just being objective.  There was plenty of room in Hollywood for talented young hotties.  Holly could only star in one lucrative blockbuster hit at a time.

Holly had no idea why she was thinking about Mattie Greene's physical attributes, but she noted Mattie was returning her gaze.  Was she checking her out?  Understandable, I suppose, Holly conceded.  Neither of us has anything better to do.  We certainly won't be doing any escaping.

Just then they heard the click of their cell door being unlocked.  It swung open and Becky Bynder (the Evil Queen Bee herself) entered.  The cruel/wicked/villainous little blonde kidnapper/teacher had returned to the scene-of-her-crime/classroom.  Smiling her usual friendly (and/or sinister) smile, Becky padded to Mattie's side and knelt on the concrete floor.  Holly noted their head captor had changed out of her former spandex shorts and sports bra and into a short silk robe in Egyptian-blue (and she appeared to be wearing nothing underneath).  Also, she was fiddling with the taut cord binding Mattie's big-toes to her hair braid.  The cord in question quickly went slack... then was removed entirely.

Mattie's understandable response was a ball-gagged sigh.  "Mrrrf."

Becky then shuffled in a half-circle (still on her knees) and did the same for Holly.  Now the big-toes and braids of both naked, stringently hogtied, and ball-gagged students/kidnap-victims were gloriously free!  Holly's reaction was similar to Mattie's.  "Mrrrrr."

The captives/students were still barely able to squirm, but at least they could rest their ball-gagged heads on their respective mattresses (and the wet spots caused by their having drooled around their respective ball-gags.  The wet spots sucked, but not nearly as much as the toe-to-braid bondage.  Being able to "relax" their neck muscles and wiggle their toes felt good.  In fact, it felt very good.

"Okay, ladies," Becky beamed.  "This will be your longest and most challenging overnight exercise.  Other challenges lie ahead, but what we call 'Hogtie-101' is intended to establish the seriousness of our program.  You have more tolerance and stamina than you realize... as the next few hours will demonstrate."

Holly blinked in alarm.  She's going to leave us like this all night?  No way!  "Nrrrf!" she complained/inquired as she attempted to squirm with renewed vigor.  Her efforts remained completely futile, of course, but at least with the blessedly absent braid-to-toes cord were no longer punishing her scalp.

"Mfffh!"  Mattie seemed to share Holly's negative opinion of Becky's instructional perfidy.

"Breakfast will be at seven," Becky said as she gracefully climbed to her bare feet.  "Goodnight, ladies," she added, then padded to the open door and paused in the threshold.  "I know you think you can't possibly endure being hogtied as you are until morning... but I assure you that you can... and you will."  With that horrifying assertion, she stepped into the corridor, pulled the door closed—Thud—and turned the lock—Click!

Holly gave her bonds a final pointless and ineffectual test, then relaxed and heaved another gagged sigh.  "Mrrrrrf."

Just then the overhead light winked out!

Both occupants of the cell had identical negative reactions.  "Nrrrrrf!"

Then, as her eyes adapt... Holly realized the LEDs of the fixture were still glowing... weakly... at the level of a very dim nightlight.  She could just make out the deeply shadowed form of her hogtied fellow student/victim.  She assumed Mattie could see her as well.

Holly's stomach chose that moment to remind her that she'd been put to bed without any supper... Gurgle-grumble... and she hadn't had any lunch either... Growl... and as far as she knew the same went for Poor Mattie.  Even without toe-to-hair bondage, Holly mused, 'Hogtie-101' sucks!

For Kim and Jess morning arrived with the click of their hotel/motel cell being unlocked.  The portal swung open and the smiling and irritatingly perky Johari entered the, resplendent in a sage-green variant of her usual spandex and sports-bra "uniform."

"Good morning, ladies," Johari said cheerfully as she closed the chamber door behind her.

Neither Kim nor Jess were gagged; however, their obedience collars were still locked around their necks and, thankfully, as they came awake they managed to remember that as far as they knew the collars were still powered-up and ready to zap their throats if they attempted to return Johari's greeting.

Kim was still naked, of course, not counting her collar, and was still more than a little ticked off by the way that yesterday her mother had usurped her (Kim's) authority over her childhood friend Jess and subjected her supposedly darling daughter to stringent, intimate, and totally unnecessary bondage by binding them (Kim and Jess) together!  She (Kim) was supposed to be the one in charge of tying and re-tying the cute, hot, adorable, and petite Jess!  It was her assignment!  Mother herself had given it to her!  She (Kim) was supposed to be completely in charge of Jess's "instruction!"  Then she (Mother) had further abused her authority as Kim's maternal unit and boss to do all the rest of the things she'd done to her! (Kim!)  It was outrageous!

As for Jess, she was also naked (like Kim) and wearing an obedience collar (like Kim) and was box-tied and ankle-feet-big-toes-tied with conditioned hemp rope (unlike Kim).  Also, her fingers and hands were still useless as they were expertly wrapped in latex-super-glue-tape fist-mummies.  Oddly, the gorgeous little Latina didn't seem to be particularly distressed or upset by her current situation.  In fact, she was smiling a gorgeous little smile.  Go figure.

Anyway, Kim was not smiling.  She had every right to be outraged, petulant, ticked off, and in a decidedly foul mood.  She scowled at Johari... then heaved a disgruntled sigh and willed herself to stop scowling.  She wasn't smiling (like Johari and Jess), but she was no longer scowling.  It wasn't Jo's fault her Mom was being such a bitch.  Jo was only following orders, and it wasn't like the staff of Becky Bynder's Bondage Boot Camp didn't indulge in intramural off-the-books pranks now and then.  She couldn't blame Jo for not taking her side in the current situation.  As for Jess... Kim had no idea what was up with Jess.  In her experience most clients didn't favor the staff with smiles at the start of Day Two.  The point was, this was all her Mom's fault!  Jo was just doing her job and (apparently) Jess was being cute, adorable, and inanely amused by the situation.

"Orders from 'She Who Must Be Obeyed,'" Jo stated, focusing her irritating smile on Kim.  "First, you're to see to your client's early morning needs.  Then, take her to Classroom Three, make sure she stays there, meaning doesn't escape, go to the kitchen and cook her some breakfast, come back and feed her, then execute something challenging and restrictive off the first week's standard checklist.  Your choice."

Kim's scowl returned.  Jo was still being a dutiful employee, in the current unusual circumstances, she was clearly enjoying herself so way much!

"And oh-by-the-way," Jo added (still smiling), your mom has locked out your bedroom on the security system and decreed that if any of us catch you wearing clothing until further notice, Jane' will give you a spanking... and you know how Jane likes giving people spankings, especially you."

Kim's scowl intensified.  She certainly knew Jo liked giving people spankings.  Kim herself wasn't totally averse to whacking firm, bare butts with palm, paddle, or crop, but Jane was the resident flagellation expert. 

"Anyway," Jo continued, turning to the door.  "I'll leave you to it.  Jane and I have to see to the other two clients."

Kim felt her scowl melt away into a pitiful pout.  She couldn't help it.

Jo's smile turned sympathetic, she padded forward and gave Kim a warm hug, then planted a kiss on her pouting lips.  "Poor thing," she sighed, then returned to the open door.  "I don't know exactly why your mother is being such a prize bitch," she added as she pulled the door closed, "but I know she has a reason... some sort of 'surprise' if I'm not mistaken."  And with that, the door closed—Thud—and Jo was gone.

A surprise? Kim wondered.  What kind of 'surprise' requires her to revoke my clothing privileges and tie me to my own client?  She noted Jess was still smiling (a little).  Did she know what the hell was going on?  How could naked, box-tied, and obedience-collared Jess Flores know why her mother was acting like a crazed bondage freak?  (Or more of a crazed bondage freak than usual.)  And because of these damned collars I can't ask her, Kim sighed, and she can't answer.  It was infuriating.  It was all infuriating.

Just then Kim's empty stomach grumbled, reminding her that breakfast awaited.  Also, her bladder reminded her that it needed emptying, and she realized Jess was probably in a similar state.  Being the one that wasn't box-tied and helpless Kim went first, using the commode tucked in its alcove off to the side.  Then, she returned to the bed, untied Jess's ankles, feet, and big-toes, then helped her relieve herself.  This was mildly embarrassing for both of them but had the virtue of not taking very long.

Then, Kim coiled her client's former ankle-foot-big-toe bonds, clutching the hemp loops in her left hand, took a business grip on Jess's left arm with her right, then dragged (meaning politely led) her from the bedroom.  It was time to start the workday.

Holly and Mattie were miserable.  They were both naked, stringently hogtied with a super-abundance of thin hemp rope, their fingers and hands wrapped into useless fist-mummies, ventilated ball-gags strapped in their mouths, and had been that way for hours.  There were minor differences in their predicaments in that Mattie was box-tied with her ankles crossed whereas Holly's wrists were tied with her hands palm-to-palm and her ankles not crossed, but both hogties were as restrictive as was anatomically possible and they'd been enduring their predicaments for.  Far.  Too.  Long.

Both damsels' hair had been tightly braided and the ends tied to their big-ties with hemp cord!—but then, Becky Bynder had returned to their cell and untied said cords, allowing them to relax their necks.  Apparently, it was her way of being "kind" before tucking them into bed for the night.

Oh-by-the-way, both actress/clients had steel collars locked around their necks that tethered them to steel rings embedded in opposite walls of their cell by generous lengths of stout steel chain.  It was ridiculous!  The cell door was locked!  They were thoroughly hogtied and barely able to wiggle!  They were encumbered by tight (but not overly tight) fist-mummies!  They were ball-gagged (and drooling)!  The collars and chains were redundant, superfluous, and pointless!  Why even bother?  Why even lock the door?

The reason had become obvious to both damsels, meaning had become obvious after hours of quiet and stringently bound and gagged reflection broken only by the quiet rattle and clank of their chains as now and then one of them squirmed for comfort.  Becky Bynder was maxing out their sense of helplessness.  That was the only explanation.  (Either that or she was a sadistic psychopath and they were in really bad trouble!)

Finally... all good things come to an end, as do all very bad things.

The lights clicked on, the cell door was unlocked—Click!—it opened—Creee...—and Johari and Jane padded into the cell.  Johari knelt beside Mattie, Jane beside Holly, then both handlers began untying the helpless thespians' rope bonds. 

The release process took much less time than the binding and soon both clients were lying face down on their canvas-clad mattresses, their faces resting on the wet spots caused by the hours of drool that had escaped their gags.  They were utterly motionless, limbs akimbo and their skin covered in pink rope-marks.  Their helplessness had been reduced to their insidious fist-mummies, their steel collars, and their ventilated ball-gags.  (The gags' buckles weren't padlocked, but thanks to their useless fingers and hands they might as well have been.)  Also, they were still naked (of course) and surrounded by masses of tangled hemp rope.

"Good morning, ladies," Jane purred (in a gloating manner), as she finished untying Holly and climbed to her bare feet.  "We're going to let you sleep in for a couple of hours, then we'll take you to breakfast.  Ciao!"

"Ciao!" Johari agreed, then followed her fellow handler from the cell.

The door was closed and locked—Creee... Click!—then the overhead light winked out, returning the clients/damsels/prisoners to the near total darkness of the fixture's nightlight-mode.  Only a faint glow remained, just enough wane light for them to make out each others' naked bodies, mummified fists, ventilated ball-gags, and collared necks.

They both heaved deep sighs, squirmed and stretched their limbs... accompanied by the metallic music of their tethering collar-chains, then closed their eyes and relaxed.  It felt very good to no longer be tightly hogtied, very good indeed.  It also felt good to ease their aching muscles and joints as they continued to stretch and occasionally rearrange their limbs and roll about on their mattresses.

There was no point in trying to escape... meaning escape from any or all of their remaining bondage... or their current location.  So, they followed Jane's advice, the only logical course available, and escaped into blessed slumber.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ z z z z z z z ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Kim was still furious with her mother for the way she was being treating, but nonetheless she carried out her orders with due diligence.

She led Jess to "Classroom Three," a concrete cell with a padded floor, tied her charge's ankles together to make sure she didn't wander off somewhere, then abandoned the naked, box-tied (with fist-mummies), obedience-collared, and still enigmatically smiling adorable little hottie within, locking the classroom door behind her.  (All the numbered "classrooms" had keypad-locks on their steel doors, by the way.  No inconvenient ring of keys required.)  Kim then padded to the kitchen.

Preparing a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, buttered toast, and coffee took minimal effort.  Kim was too hungry to prepare anything more elaborate or time consuming.  She more or less prepared the meal on autopilot.  All the while her mind was fixated on two things:

(Thing #1) Her mother's inexplicable and unprofessional cruelty... and by that, of course, she did not mean all the involved bondage.  After all, bondage was the raison d'etre of Becky Bynder's Bondage Boot Camp.  Kim meant all the bondage directed at her, and whatever her mom was up to was well above the level of a staff-on-staff prank.

(Thing #2) Jess was acting... strangely.  She was smiling too much.  It was... enigmatic.  Kim had a lot of experience gauging the moods and reactions of clients, even when they were gagged... and she knew the difference between a gag-induced grimace and an actual smile... which was immaterial as Jess wasn't gagged.  Shock-collared?  Yes.  Gagged?  No.  So... what the hell was she up to (as opposed to Mother)?  It couldn't be much---nothing elaborate, anyway---seeing as the smiling little hottie was naked, tied up, obedience-collared, and locked in Classroom Three... but something was going on... meaning something other than Mother turning to the Dark Side and going bat-shit crazy.

Anyhoo... culinary mission accomplished, Kim returned to Classroom Three pushing a cart laden with a serving tray that in turn was laden with a single large covered plate of simple but yummy breakfast, a complete coffee service, and exactly one napkin and set of tableware.  She unlocked and opened the classroom door, carried the tray inside and set it on the floor, closed the door behind her, then removed the plate cover with a flourish.  She would have said "Ta-dah!" or something equally appropriate but didn't want to be zapped by her obedience collar.  In any case, breakfast was served.

Kim did the honors, of course, using the fork to feed both Jess and herself.  They ate in companionable silence... or a variation thereof.  The silence was shock-collar enforced, of course, and while they were both naked, Jess's rope-enforced helplessness made for a decided power imbalance.  Nonetheless, both diners were smiling.  Jess was obviously happy to be fed (and was retaining her coy/enigmatic amusement) while Kim was equally happy to finally be able to eat something.  Also, however, her grin had a carefully orchestrated semi-sinister edge.  She had to make sure her client understood that despite her mother's sudden-onset insanity, Kim Bynder was still "in charge."  Maybe.

Stomachs full (but not overly full), Jess watched as Kim returned the tray to the cart, then waited while the little blonde returned the cart to the kitchen (locking the Classroom Three door behind her, of course).  She continued waiting, rolling on the padded floor now and then and weakly testing her bonds.  Comfort movements only.  Escape remained impossible.

Finally, Jess heard the classroom door being unlocked—Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep!—and Kim entered, still naked, collared, and smiling (wickedly), but now she carrying a black nylon gym-bag that was quite obviously full of... something.  Jess heaved a sad little sigh, then her dimpled smile returned.  She had a pretty good idea what was in the bag and watched as Kim unzipped the main compartment, reached inside, and confirmed her judgement by pulling our a generous coil of the same thin conditioned hemp rope already comprising her box-tie and ankle-foot-big-toe bonds.  She sighed again as her friend/rigger prepared the coil for use... then set to work with smiling, naked, obedience-collared, and flaxen-haired competence.

When the proverbial dust settled... Jess was tightly bundled in a neat, symmetrical, elaborate, and quite restrictive "Shrimp" or "Ebi"-tie.  Jess's box-tie had remained in place; however, her crossed fist-mummies had been retied in a significantly more elevated and restrictive fashion, lashing them against her spine just below her shoulder blades.  She was sitting on her butt, her folded legs were elaborately lashed together with her ankles crossed, and numerous paired ropes passed between her legs, ankles, and torso, forcing her to lean forward in a semi-stringent crunch.

Kim watched, still smiling (and angry at her mother) as Jess wiggled and squirmed and explored the limits of her new (and significantly enhanced) state of helplessness.  She (Kim) was supposed to be delivering a lecture on the cultural history of each new bondage technique in the curriculum as it was introduced, but that was difficult to do when your mother and boss has locked an obedience collar around your neck and was messing with you for no good reason!

The little blonde's smile morphed into a petulant pout.  Due diligence demanded that she confirm that her collar was, in fact, energized.  Kim would feel pretty foolish if it turned out her mom had used her remote to turn off the collar when she was distracted by the overwhelming unfairness of recent events.

Kim spun on her bare heels, so Jess wouldn't see her face if she shocked herself... then quietly cleared her throat—and received a minimal but unmistakable shock across her larynx!  It was more a buzzing tingle than an actual shock, but it confirmed that her mother hadn't turned off her collar.  Dammit!  Kim would have to deliver her lecture about the Ebi or shrimp-tie at a later date.

There was one more detail specified in the lesson plan.  Kim unzipped a side-pocket of the gym-bag and produced a standard Becky Bynder's Bondage Boot Camp ventilated ball-gag, a black silicon-rubber spherical gobstopper with a black leather strap and chromed steel hardware.

Jess's enigmatic smile faded immediately as she stared at the gag in Kim's hands.  The decidedly helpless, naked, and petite Latina then shifted her gaze to her childhood friend (and rigger) and batted her big brown eyes.

Unmoved by this obvious play for sympathy, Kim stuffed the hollow black rubber sphere into Jess's mouth, then buckled the strap tight at the nape of her neck under her somewhat tousled but still quite attractive gleaming black-brown hair.  Yes, Jess was already involuntarily mute thanks to her obedience collar, but it was Becky Bynder's philosophy that when it came to bondage, too much was never enough, something with which Kim Bynder and the rest of the staff were in total agreement (when they weren't being pranked and were on the receiving end of said bondage).  Ignoring her own status as a naked and involuntarily shock-collar-muted damsel with an uncertain future, Kim stood and smiled down at the squirming, wiggling, and shrimp-tied Jess.  It was a job done well, and Kim felt fully justified in basking in the glory of a job well done and gloating over her naked friend's helpless condition.

Just then the classroom door opened and Kim's inexplicably traitorous and wicked-evil maternal unit entered.  She was dressed in her usual work uniform of spandex sports-bra and bicycle-shorts (today in lapis-blue with dove-gray accents) and bare feet.  Ominously, she was carrying a bulging black gym-bag identical to the one that Kim had used to transport her own rigging materials.

Smiling broadly, Becky dropped her gym-bag, planted a quick kiss on her pouting daughter's right cheek, then stooped to examine Jess's shrimp-tie, running her fingers over the various knots and slipping them under several of the rope bands to test their tightness against Jess's skin.

"Excellent work, darling," Becky gushed.  "You do the school proud."

Hands on hips, Kim scowled at her mother.  If it wasn't for the collar ready, willing, and able to zap her throat, she'd have shared a scathing and/or witty remark worthy of Dorothy Parker... something like "Bite me" or "Go frack yourself."  Then, her smile faded as her mom unzipped an end-pocket of her gym bag and pulled out—a pair of latex gloves... followed by a plastic vial of Gorilla® super-glue... followed by a generous roll of clear latex tape—everything needed to craft a pair of standard Becky Bynder's Bondage Boot Camp fist-mummies!

Eyes wide, Kim stared at the supplies in her mom's hands and took an involuntary step back.  Her mother tossed her the gloves—which Kim promptly dropped to the concrete floor as if they were on fire or crawling with spiders.

Mother stared at daughter.

Daughter stared an mother.

Jess stared at mother and daughter (her big brown eyes smiling above her drool-inducing ball-gag).

"I have a very good reason for everything I'm doing," Becky stated.  "This is not some idle practical joke.  Don't you trust me?" she added, smiling her trademark dimpled smile.

Trust you? Becky silently retorted.  I'm standing here naked with a shock collar I let you lock around my neck.  Of course I trust you.  Seconds passed... and finally (once again scowling) Kim stooped, snatched the latex gloves from the padded floor, then stood, blew into the gloves to inflate them and make them easier to don, then began the process of pulling them on.  It was obvious that while Kim Bynder might be a sullenly dutiful and grudgingly obedient daughter, she was anything but happy.

Still smiling broadly, Becky removed the cap of the super-glue.  "I promise, darling, like I said, I have very good reasons for doing all of this, and I will explain everything... at the appropriate time."

'At the appropriate time,' Kim silently fumed.  You better!  Her hands now clad in skintight clear latex.  She watched as her mother anointed her fingers with beads of super-glue... then formed her hands into loose fists and blew on them to speed the drying process, ignoring the rapidly dissipating ketone smell of the glue.

Meanwhile, her smiling blue eyes still focused on her daughter, Becky indicated the naked, shrimp-tied, and ball-gagged Jess with a nod.  "She already knows part of what I'll eventually explain, but I have news for Jess as well."

Kim frowned at Jess, who blinked her big brown eyes and stared up at Kim.  I knew you were smiling about something, Kim thought.  She then watched stoically as her mother carefully, neatly, and tightly (but not too tightly) wrapped her left hand in overlapping layers of the clear, slightly stretched latex tape.  This took several long and infuriating seconds... more than a minute, actually.  Her right hand was next.  Then, the mummification of her fists complete, Kim watched as her mother knelt, unzipped the main compartment of her gym-bag, and began pulling out neatly wrapped coil after neatly wrapped coil of thin hemp rope... until she had accumulated a significant pile.

Kim stared at the rope... then stared at her wickedly smiling mom.  She knew what was coming.  Not the details, of course, not yet, but mother wouldn't have produced all that rope if she didn't intend to use it... and the only other naked and obedience-collar-wearing damsel with fist-mummies in the classroom was already stringently bound.

Still smiling (wickedly), Becky lifted a coil conditioned hemp rope from the top of the pile and deftly prepared it for use.