consciousness in absolute darkness. The air was hot and
humid. Tropical... with a hint of saltwater. She was
naked, bound, gagged, and lying on her side on a hard, wooden
surface. Beebe struggled weakly... then with greater vigor
as her head cleared.
Doctor Bondage had a great deal of experience with all forms of
bondage, but all of it was in the role of
kidnapper/captor. Beebe Bonde, on the other hand, was
experienced with both sides of the equation.
Bondage-wise, Beebe had done just about everything imaginable to
Suki with rope, leather, and steel, and her mischievous little
playmate had returned the favor. Despite the inky
darkness, Beebe was able to "diagnose" her condition, thanks to
tactile and auditory clues.
Her costume was total nudity, not counting her bonds. Her
hair was pulled back and plaited in a single tight braid.
The bonds in question were:
That was it, and it was
enough. Beebe couldn't be absolutely certain she had all
the details correct, of course, but she was ball-gagged,
armbinder-bound, hobbled, and her captors had deployed
mini-padlocks, probably for purposes of dramatic overkill.
With her fingers and hands encased and pressed together, she
certainly wasn't going to be unbuckling any buckles, whether
they were secured with miniature padlocks or not.
- A mouth-filling
ball-gag, with a spherical rubber plug insert and a leather
retaining strap. A tiny padlock rattled at the nape of
- A leather collar
with a long, attached chain that rattled when she
struggled. The collar was wide and stiff, but not a
posture collar. It was also secured with a
- A single-sleeve
armbinder. It encased her arms and hands behind her
back from mid-upper-arm to fingertips. It was tight,
pressing her hands together, palm-to-palm. Her elbows
touched. Restraining straps yoked her shoulders and
crisscrossed her chest, above her naked breasts, and she
strongly suspected the binder incorporated secondary straps
that were buckled around her wrists and elbows and secured
with yet more of the mini-padlocks.
- Leather cuffs
buckled and mini-padlocked around her ankles, separated by
an eight to ten-inch hobbling chain.
Beebe squirmed and rolled on the hard surface, expanding her
exploration of her environment. The collar chain
complicated matters, but she quickly deduced she was inside some
sort of cage, probably with iron bars. It wasn't a tiny
cage, but neither was it what she would call roomy.
Eventually, Beebe gathered enough data to deduce that the base
of the cage was about four-feet by four-feet. The cage's
height was still an open issue, but Beebe felt no desire to
struggle to her feet to try and settle the question.
Beebe sweated... and drooled... and waited.
Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice.
Beebe smiled around her ball-gag. Make that a familiar,
ball-gag-muffled voice. The mewling inquiry/complaint was
followed by the frenzied rattling of chains and mini-padlocks as
her unseen companion explored her condition. It was Suki,
apparently waking to find herself similarly bound, gagged, and
caged. Were Beebe's partner's bonds identical to her own
in every way? Was her partner also naked?
"Mrrrpfh," Beebe mewled, then shook her head, rattling her
collar chain. "Settle down, Suki," was the message.
"Mrrrfh." ("Yes. I'm over here.")
Suddenly, they heard a key rattling in a lock. Then, a
door opened on oil-hungry hinges and a yellow-white glow flooded
the space from old fashioned industrial lighting fixtures
Beebe blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust. Actually,
the light was bright only in comparison to total darkness, but
was more than enough for Bebee to visually confirm that she was,
indeed, in a cage, its door was secured with a large, antique
padlock, and her bonds, what she could see of them, were brown
leather with a distressed finish and bronze hardware. The
hobble-chain was black, hand-forged iron. A glance through
the cage bars confirmed that Suki was inside a cage of her own
and her bonds were identical.
Meanwhile, a pair of women had entered what Beebe decided to
call the "Cage Room." She counted a total of eight cages,
all identical and all something like 4' x 4' x 6'. There
were four cages on either side, with a generous aisle
between. Only Beebe and Suki's cages were occupied.
As for the women not naked, bound, gagged, and caged...
On the left was a beautiful, 40-something redhead with freckles,
green eyes, and a trim, fit, feminine figure. She was
wearing... some sort of costume. Specifically:
Oh-by-the-way, a brown
leather riding crop dangled from her right wrist. A
memsahib from the heyday of the British Raj? A European
aristocrat on safari? Beebe decided "villainess in a
Tarzan movie" more or less captured the redhead's vibe.
And speaking of Tarzan...
- Brown knee-boots
that laced up the front.
- Tan jodhpurs with
chamois panels sewn in the seat and the inside of both
- A brown leather
belt with a row of leather ammunition pouches and a holster
with a closed flap over her right hip. There was also
the narrow, diagonal strap that rode her left shoulder,
passed between her boobs, added support for the weight of
the pistol, and made it a "Sam Browne Belt."
- A white,
tropical-weight, long-sleeve blouse. It had a plunging
neckline (revealing a bulging, freckled cleavage), and its
generous sleeves were rolled up above her elbows. It
wasn't quite a "Poofy Pirate Shirt," but in Beebe's opinion
it came pretty close.
- Brown leather
- A tan pith helmet
with a white, gauze thin veil pulled back and wafting in her
On the right was... a jungle-girl!
She was in her late twenties or early thirties and was strikingly
beautiful, a real Nordic/Germanic princess. Her hair
was straight, blond, and cropped in a short pageboy. It
suited her. Her eyes were an icy blue and her skin smooth,
with a rich tan. Her figure was slender and athletic, like
a dancer or an acrobat, with defined muscles and full (but not overly
full) breasts. Clearly, she was in exquisite shape but
was not a muscular gym rat.
Her costume was a "primitive," skimpy string-bikini of pale,
almost white chamois that left very little to the
imagination. The bikini's dangling strings and ragged
margins were decorated with beads that, on closer look, appeared
to be polished jewels, precious stones, and exotic
seashells. A sheath knife in a brown leather sheath was
strapped to her right thigh, brown leather bracers were laced
around her wrists, and an anklet with more jewels and shells
graced her left ankle. Her feet were bare.
Yes, the jungle-girl was stunning. Beebe was
impressed. Beebe wanted to tie her up and have her way
with her. Unfortunately, at the moment, Dr. Bondage wasn't
in a position to have her way with anyone. Also... What
the hell is going on?
"Dr. Bonde," The redhead purred, smiling through the bars
at Beebe's nude, bound, and gagged form, "allow me to introduce
myself. I'm Dr. Edith Stanton. Welcome to The
The jungle-girl cleared her throat.
Still smiling, Dr. Stanton indicated her fellow non-prisoner
with a graceful flip of the wrist. "And this is Lizette La
Roque, the daughter of our employer, Petra La Roque."
Petra La Roque? Petra La Roque the ultra-rich fashion
mogul? It was an open secret that Petra La Roque was
not only a billionaire, but was kinky, in the way Beebe Bonde
and Suki were kinky. Rumor had it she had a private resort
catering to an exclusive, filthy rich, like-minded clientele
where they indulged their deepest bondage-related fantasies—a
sort of Bondage Disneyland. It was somewhere in the
Caribbean, and... Oh... 'The Island.' Also...
Lizette was also smiling. "Dr. Bonde, you've been a very
bad girl," she purred, "and on The Island... bad girls are
punished... and very bad girls are punished quite
While Beebe and Suki exchanged gagged, mildly distressed
expressions, Edith stepped forward and used a large, antique key
to unlock Beebe and Suki's cages. They were "helped" to
their hobbled feet, and Lizette attached the terminal link of
Suki's collar-chain to the back of Beebe's collar. Then,
Edith took a firm grip on the end of Beebe's chain and led the
captives from the "Cage Room."
They appeared to be in a wooden warehouse of open frame
construction with slat walls. Exposed trusses supported a
corrugated steel roof. Stacks of wooden crates and barrels
were everywhere, and a group of eight women, all clothed only in
ragged loincloths, were loading some of them into the back of a
medium-sized truck. The female stevedores' ankles were
shackled and their necks locked in iron collars. All were
in their twenties or thirties, and represented just about every
skin tone and hair color on the planet.
The loading was happening under the supervision of a
thirty-something woman dressed in what could only be called a
pirate costume: thigh boots with turned down tops, a loincloth
of vertically striped cloth, an open, white cotton shirt with
billowing sleeves (a genuine "Poofy Pirate Shirt")
with the sleeves rolled up and the tails tied together in front,
baring her midriff and showing significant cleavage. She
was also wearing a bandana tied over her loose, black hair, and
a wide leather belt with a holstered pistol on one side and a
coiled bullwhip on the other. If forced to guess, Beebe
would say the pirate/supervisor was Mexican or Central
American. She was in excellent shape (like her charges)
and quite attractive (also like her charges).
The pirate gave Lizette a smile and a casual, two-fingered
salute as she passed, and Lizette nodded in return.
The truck being loaded was something like a scaled-up Model-T
Ford truck with wire-spoke wheels but modern-looking
tires. The front cab was open and Beebe managed a quick
glance at the steering wheel, floor pedals, and dashboard as
they passed. The lack of a clutch suggested an automatic
transmission, and while everything looked antique, she strongly
suspected it was a style statement, not a lack of modern
engineering. Curious, she thought.
They left the warehouse and stepped out onto a wooden dock.
position of the sun suggested mid-morning. Turquoise
saltwater lapped around the dock's pilings and an abundance of
noisy gulls wheeled and turned in a cloudless, cerulean
sky. The air was humid and hot and the sun on their
exposed skin even hotter. Beebe turned her head and beheld
white sand beaches, waving coconut palms, and a lush green
forest climbing the slopes of rugged hills towards a spine of
"There are currently three main venues on The Island," Stanton
lectured as they continued down the dock towards a cluster of
wooden sheds on the shore. Stanton gestured to their right
and Beebe and Suki's eyes widened at the sight of a large,
formidable stone fortress, complete with cannon emplacements,
crenelated battlements, and soaring towers. "That's the
'Pirate Queen's Castle,' of course."
Of course, Beebe thought.
"Every castle has dungeons and torture chambers," Edith
continued, "and the PQC is no exception. And they're quite
well-equipped, I assure you."
"Most of the furnishings are traditional, but some are products
of my mother's fervent imagination," Lizette added. "I've
also made a few contributions."
"The castle started out as a traditional pirate lair," Edith
said, "but lately, things have started drifting in the Steam
Punk direction." She glanced over her shoulder at
Beebe. "I noticed you checking out the 'steam-powered'
truck being loaded in the warehouse. Actually, like all
the motorized transportation on The Island, it's electric, but
no expense was spared making it look like something out
of a techno-fantasy novel."
"We also have other methods of getting around," Lizette
They'd arrived at the end of the dock... and Beebe's eyes popped
She found herself staring at a two-wheeled cart with a single
bench seat, and especially at the pair of women hitched
to the cart. Suki was also impressed.
The women were classic "pony-girls," naked but for the brown
leather knee-boots laced on their feet, the corset-like upper
body harnesses that pinned their folded and leather-encased
arms, hands, and fingers behind their backs, and the bridles
caging their heads and keeping rubber bits clutched between
The "ponies" were nearly identical in appearance. Both had
brown hair dangling in single braids down their backs, tan skin,
and lithe, athletic bodies. They glared at
Lizette as the party from the warehouse approached. The
smiling jungle-girl stepped forward, cupped the left-hand pony's
right breast in her left hand, the right-hand pony's left breast
in her right, and gave both a gentle squeeze.
"As I told you earlier," Lizette said, obviously for Beebe and
Suki's benefit, "you've both been very bad girls." She
smiled into the attractive, bit-gagged, and drooling faces of
the matched pair of pony-girls and continued kneading their
breasts. "There are many ways to punish bad girls while at
the same time making them... useful."
"Also," Edith added, "some of Petra's ultra-rich friends pay to
have troublesome employees or embarrassing relatives serve tours
as 'Island Helpers," whether they've been 'bad' or not."
She led Beebe and Suki to the rear of the cart, secured the
terminal link of Beebe's collar-chain to a hitch/clamp, then
knelt and removed the chains hobbling their ankles.
Meanwhile, Lizette stopped playing with the glowering
pony-girls' breasts, unhitched their reins from the hitching
post, and climbed onto the bench.
"Anyway," Edith said as she gave Beebe's chain a tug to confirm
it was securely attached to the cart, "the PQC is one venue,
but we're going someplace else, to my domain."
The smiling redhead then stepped around the right wheel and
settled onto the bench on Lizette's right.
Beebe looked back at Suki, who blinked in confused distress (but
not alarm), then turned back as Lizette clicked her tongue and
the pony-girls stepped off in perfect unison. Obviously,
they were well-trained and felt compelled to perform their
servile duties with due diligence. The snap of
the buggy-whip in Lizette's right hand may have also had
something to do with it.
They left the dock area and entered the dappled shade of a sandy
track paralleling the beach. The cart had no difficulty
negotiating the white sand underfoot. Obviously, Beebe
realized, the roadbed was compacted and stabilized in some
manner. It was more-or-less a long strip of sandstone
under an inch or two of loose sand.
The pony-girls continued their clomping journey, followed by the
rolling cart with its jungle-girl driver and memsahib passenger,
followed by Beebe, who was followed by Suki. So far, The Island
was a very nice place... if you were into tropical
heat, lush foliage, azure skies, humid, salt-tinged air, and the
occasional hysterically squawking, brightly colored bird
flitting through the branches overhead. There was the
issue of being naked, bound, and gagged in leather, and being
chained by the collar to a cart being drawn by pony-girls, but
you can't have everything, as the saying goes. Tropical
paradise? Yes, but their humiliating captivity was
something of a downer.
Beebe soon found she was dripping with sweat, and a glance back
over her shoulder confirmed that Suki was also glistening.
Obviously, the newly arrived prisoners weren't yet
acclimatized. The blond jungle-girl, red-haired memsahib,
and brunette pony-girls were not sweaty. They
were accustomed to the humid heat. Actually, Beebe noted,
the pony-girls were a little sweaty, but nowhere near
as much as Suki and herself.
Beebe and Suki trudged behind the cart, only occasionally
catching glimpses of the ocean and beach through the jungle, or
rainforest, or whatever was the proper designation for their
surroundings. The pony-girls were setting a brisk walking
pace, but at least they weren't jogging.
At one point, they passed a pair of nearly naked women in
loincloths and bandeaus of batik-dyed cloth. Both were
armed with spears. More jungle-girls? Or were they
native amazons? Beebe wasn't sure. One of the spear
carriers was probably Japanese and the other was clearly a
Latina, so if they were amazons, they were members of an
ethnically diverse tribe. The women thumped their chests
with their spears, then raised them in salute as the cart
passed. Lizette returned the gesture with her
buggy-whip. Were they "fellow tribe members," or were the
"amazons" saluting the heir to the La Roque empire?
Three miles. Beebe's best estimate was their involuntary,
naked, bound, and gagged journey on the sandy track was
something like three miles. Then, they left the jungle and
paused at one end of a small bay, or cove, or harbor.
There was another dock, smaller than the one back at the
warehouse, a couple of dilapidated sheds, and set back in the
jungle, a huge Victorian mansion with turrets, gables,and an
expansive covered porch. Off to the mansion's right were
several single-story outbuildings in a tight cluster.
Everything was painted white, or had been at some point,
probably several years ago. The estate had seen better
days, but all the roofs were in good repair, as far as Beebe
Edith jumped down, opened a hamper strapped behind the seat, and
produced a plastic bottle with a curved plastic straw piercing
the screw-cap. Smiling broadly, she strolled to the
tethered captives, tucked the end of the straw into the corner
of Beebe's ball-gagged mouth, and gave the bottle a squeeze.
Ice-cold, very refreshing, very welcome water flooded
Beebe's ball-gagged mouth. She managed to swallow
something like half the bottle and avoid
"brain-freeze," then watched as Edith did the same for
Suki. The redhead returned the now empty bottle to the
hamper, then indicated the distant mansion with a smile and a
sweep of her right arm.
"Behold the second venue of The Island," Edith
announced, "The Laboratory of Dr. Stanton."
"We really do need to think up a better name for your hangout,"
Lizette chuckled. "Maybe you should change your last name
to Moreau." The jungle-girl had pulled a second bottle
from the hamper and was using it to hydrate the pony-girls.
"Good idea," Edith drawled. "Very original.
And you should change your name to Sheena."
"Point taken," Lizette chuckled. She'd returned the now
empty bottle to the hamper, then strolled back to the pony-girls
and began giving their breasts a gentle massage. The
pony-girls stood perfectly still and endured being "groomed" by
Meanwhile, Edith was pointing at the mansion's
outbuildings. "That's the Evil Petting Zoo, Post-Operative
Recovery, the Patient Holding Cells, and that's the Main
Surgery. I have a smaller surgery and more holding
cells in the main mansion, as well as a fully-equipped torture
chamber in the basement, of course."
Beebe and Suki exchanged a blinking, mildly confused, gagged
stare. They were both thinking the same thing: Evil
"Welcome to your new home," Edith added, then climbed back onto
the bench. Lizette did the same and readied the reins and
Beebe and Suki exchanged another blinking stare. New
Lizette snapped the whip—Crack!—and the final leg of the
bizarre journey began.
Beebe's disappointment, the mansion wasn't their immediate
destination. It was probably too much to ask that they be
released and invited to high tea on the veranda, but a girl
could dream, couldn't she?
They arrived at what was clearly the service entrance to the
Laboratory compound and Lizette handed off the reins of the
slightly sweaty and still sullenly glaring pony-girls to an
attendant, a tall, muscular, thirty-something woman with dark,
sun-streaked hair, brown skin, and attractive, vaguely
Mediterranean features. She was wearing a loincloth and
bandeau, like the "Amazons" they'd passed in the jungle
road. Beebe and Suki watched as the attendant led the
pony-girls and cart to what was probably a small stable.
Lizette restored Beebe and Suki's hobble-chains and the tour
began. Stanton took the lead, followed by Lizette, who had
a firm grip on the end of Beebe's collar chain, followed by the
sweaty prisoners. Beebe and Suki remained linked,
They passed a long row of iron cages, each with a door leading
to the interior of a long, shed-like building. Most of the
cages were empty, but two held... furry women? Both were clearly
human, but their costumes—and they had to be
costumes, right?—were very realistic.
The first woman was a cat. Short fur covered most of her
body in a calico pattern. Her hands were catlike paws, as
were her feet. Her face was only semi-catlike, with a
triangular pad on the tip of her nose, a spread of whiskers
spouting from her upper lip, and golden eyes with slit-like
pupils. Beebe only got a quick look, but the appliances
and contacts were very realistic. They have
to be appliances and contacts, right? she thought as she
shuffled past the cage.
The "cat-girl" also had a long, twitching tail, and it emerged
from the back of a steel chastity-belt. She also had steel
cuffs on her ankles and wrists, as well as a steel collar with a
dangling bell. None of the restraints were joined
together, but all had dangling, chain-ready "D"-rings. The
cat-girl watched Edith, Stanton, and the naked, bound and gagged
Beebe and Suki pass with what could be feline disdain, carefully
masked fear, or possibly both.
Next in line was a fox, or rather, a fox-girl. The
twenty-something woman had been transformed into a fox/human
hybrid (or was wearing a devilishly realistic costume).
She was obviously a natural redhead (of the ginger variety) with
short, copper-red hair, fair skin, and an abundance of
freckles. Her "fur" was also ginger-red, except for a
white belly, including her breasts (but not her nipples), and
black fore- and hind-paws. She was cuffed, collared, and
chastity-belted, like her cat-girl neighbor, but without a bell
dangling from her collar. Her red tail (with white tip)
was fluffier than the cat's, but that was expected with a
fox. Also, she was wearing, involuntarily, a brown leather
muzzle (and probably a gag of some sort) that obscured her lower
face. Finally, she had a pair of long, red ears with pink
interiors and black and white fur highlights.
Again, the costume was very realistic, but Beebe was
sure the "fox-girl" was actually a ginger human female in an
Unlike the nonchalant (or fearful) "cat-girl," the "fox-girl"
made her discontent apparent as the party passed by pawing the
bars and whining through her muzzle. She was
ignored. Poor thing, Beebe thought, but a thrill
of sadistic appreciation rippled between her legs at the sight
of the pathetic distress in the fox-girl's green eyes, despite
Beebe's own captive condition.
And then they entered another shed and were met by two more of
the loincloth and bandeau-wearing tall, muscular amazons.
One was a Nordic blonde and the other a dark-skinned African.
The African detached Suki's chain from the back of Beebe's
collar, led her to a rather confining iron cage, and locked her
inside. Its base was only two-feet by two-feet and its
height seven, so Suki had no choice but to stand.
The African then joined her Viking Shield-Maiden companion to
strap Beebe to a long, narrow, unpadded, horizontal steel table,
the sort of thing usually used for autopsies in morgues! Gulp!
During the process, Beebe's handlers revealed themselves to be
both strong and well-trained in the art of handling reluctant
damsels. Beebe struggled long enough to uphold the honor
of Damsels-in-Distress everywhere, then relaxed and let the
professionals do their job. Her efforts were moot as well
as token, anyway. Her handlers never removed enough of her
restraints at any one time for her to her to mount a credible
Beebe was now flat on her back on the cold steel table with her
legs about a foot apart, her arms at her sides, well-padded
medical restraints of brown leather on her wrists and ankles,
and brown leather straps across her torso (above and below her
breasts), her waist, and her thighs. Her brown leather
collar was included in the arrangement, clamped to the table and
limiting her ability to turn her gagged head.
Their work apparently accomplished, the Amazons made their
exit. This gave Beebe a chance to take a more detailed
survey of at her surroundings. Gulp! Beebe
was in a rather antique surgical suite. Glaring spotlights
shone from overhead. The walls were lined with glass-front
cabinets full of glass jars, packaged supplies, and elaborate
medical equipment, some of which were outright Victorian in
their obsolescence and of highly questionable utility. She
had a perfect view of Suki and her cage, and conversely, Suki
had a perfect view of Beebe and her table.
Lizette stepped forward, to the side of the table opposite Suki,
smiled, and placed a hand on Beebe's flat, sculpted, tan
tummy. "Dr. Bonde," she purred, "my mother has asked me to
relay a proposal from the Judicial Review Committee of the
Beebe blinked, uncertainly, then glanced at Suki. Her
partner blinked back.
"Don't worry about the 'Sisterhood,'" Lizette continued.
"You'll have plenty of opportunity to learn the details of the
various subdivisions of the organization, those that we decide
to share, but only if you make the right choice."
Beebe stared up at her devilishly cute (and sinister)
"The Sisterhood has full access to all of your records and
finances," Lizette explained. "We can trace your entire
career as a kidnapper-for-hire, in complete detail. In
short, we have proof, positive, of all your
crimes." The jungle-girl smiled. "This brings us to
your choices." She slid her palm up Beebe's body to her
right breast, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Choice one:
we share this forensic bounty with a host of law enforcement
agencies, worldwide." She continued her massage of Beebe's
breasts. "Of course, some of the countries involved are
notorious for having legal and penal systems than are, shall we
say, 'less enlightened' than the norm in the developed
world. Also, if you take that option, the Senior Sisters
have agreed that the less enlightened countries should get first
crack at prosecuting, incarcerating, and punishing the notorious
Dr. Bondage... as well as her partner-in-crime, the nefarious
Not good, Beebe decided. She noticed that while
Lizette was talking, Edith had opened a tall locker, removed her
gloves, Sam Browne belt and holster, riding crop, and blouse,
hung them in the locker, and donned an apron of black,
rubberized cloth. She'd then stepped to a nearby sink and
began thoroughly washing her hands. Beebe noted that
Edith's back was uniformly and deeply freckled. She
surmised her captor indulged in nude sunbathing on a regular
"There is an alternative to a life sentence in the
third world hell-hole prison of our choice," Lizette
continued. "Choice two: you do a term—duration yet to be
determined—of 'community service' on The Island,
supervised by the Sisterhood. How does that sound to you?"
"Tell her the rest," Edith said.
Lizette released Beebe's breast and combed an errant wisp of
hair that had somehow escaped Beebe's braid from her glistening,
gagged face. "You'll serve as Dr. Stanton's assistant at
The Laboratory, after serving a suitable apprenticeship in all
the intermediate positions, from Evil Petting Zoo Specimen to
surgical nurse." She shifted her gaze to Suki, inside her
cage. "As for you, I think the doctor intends to start you
out as a monkey-girl. Isn't that right, Edith?"
"We haven't had a monkey in the Evil Petting Zoo for several
months," Edith stated, "so... why not?"
"After a few months," Lizette said, "or several weeks, with good
simian behavior, you'll be transferred to the Pirate Queen's
Castle for an orientation tour. After that, perhaps the
Native Village. That's The Island's third venue,
by the way. They're always looking for captured European
brats in filthy, ripped dresses to do their drudge work and
eventually be sacrificed to their god, an animatronic
"When they can get the damn thing to work," Edith chuckled.
"It's the humidity," Lizette sighed. "It plays havoc with
the micro-actuators." She shifted her smile back to
Beebe. "Anyway, you have to volunteer for Island
service, of course, and as tokens of your sincerity, you must
agree to wear security transponders." She wheeled over a
steel cart covered with a jade-green cloth, removed the cloth
with a flourish, and revealed an array of surgical instruments
and a pair of glass petri-dishes containing what Beebe
immediately recognized as nipple-stirrups!
Lizette held up a petri-dish for Beebe's inspection. The
stirrups had spherical end-caps, connecting wire posts, and
"U"-shaped shackles. Yes, they were definitely nipple-stirrups!
"Isn't nano-technology wonderful?" Lizette chuckled. "The
first generation of these things had big, heavy spheres in the
middle of the stirrups that housed the batteries and
electronics. Now, the circuitry is incorporated inside
the stirrup, and the units are self-charging. Your
body will act as a biological battery, Dr. Bonde, once they're
in place. They're titanium, by the way, impossible to
remove without special tools." She set the petri-dish back
down on the cart, next to the second, apparently identical dish
containing the second, apparently identical pair of
"If you wander into secure locations, such as one of the
Island's control bunkers, the seaplane hanger, or the boat
docks," Lizette continued, "all sorts of alarms will go
off and either security pirates or security jungle-girls will
come looking for you. They enjoy a good damsel hunt, and
since you'll be effectively radio-tagged, you'll be very easy
Beebe gazed at the petri-dish on the cart, heaved a sigh, then
turned her gagged head and gazed at her naked, bound, gagged,
and caged partner.
Suki heaved a sigh of her own, then nodded her head.
'Community Service,' or rot in a third world prison for the
rest of our lives, Beebe pondered. Not much of a
choice, is it? She turned her head back to Lizette
and nodded, as best her collar would allow.
"I'll take that as a 'yes' to the second choice?" Lizette
purred. "You agree to remain on The Island until the
Sisterhood decides different?"
Beebe nodded, again. So did Suki.
Edith had finished scrubbing up and was standing next to
Lizette. At some point she'd added an old fashioned, white
cotton surgical mask and a pair of latex gloves to her ensemble
of black rubberized apron, bare, freckled shoulders and arms,
and bulging, freckled décolletage. Her green eyes smiled
down at her "patient" as she reached for a pair of forceps, used
them to grip several pads of cotton gauze squares, wet the
squares from a alcohol dispenser, then began swabbing Beebe's
Beebe shuddered and tugged on her bonds. Her nipple popped
erect and goosebumps formed on her breast as the alcohol
"I'm so glad you've agreed to join us," Edith said as she
continued sterilizing Beebe's boob.
"If she's a good girl," Lizette said, "eventually we'll have two
mad doctors in residence, and you'll finally be able to take
that vacation you've been pestering mother about."
"We'll see," Edith purred.
Beebe watched as Edith picked up a stainless steel instrument
she didn't recognize. Her new supervisor then lifted the
lid of one of the petri-dishes, unscrewed one of the stirrup's
end-cap spheres, then loaded the remaining stirrup assembly into
the complex jaws of what Beebe now realized was a highly
specialized piercing tool.
"I'm afraid this is going to sting a little," Edith purred as
she used a pair of forceps to capture and stretch Beebe's right
nipple, then carefully positioned the jaws of the piercing tool
to do the deed.
Beebe managed not to flinch or yelp through her ball-gag when
Edith closed the handles, the tool clicked, and a needle
pierced her flesh.
Ow-ow-ow! The needle had stung, as Edith
had promised, but Beebe had to admit the pain hadn't been that
Edith shifted her grip and depressed a side handle. The
tool's needle retracted and the post's shaft took its place in
one smooth, sliding motion, positioning the end of the stirrup
on the post at the same time. Edith placed the piercing
tool on the cart, then screwed the missing end-cap on the end of
the post. Finally, she used a pair of stainless steel
pliers with a specialized business end to grip the end-cap
spheres of the post it its jaws, and gave it a firm squeeze.
"That crushes the micro-capsules of epoxy and fuses the
screw-caps in place," Edith explained, apparently for Beebe's
benefit. She then swabbed Beebe's right nipple and new
jewelry, applied a dab of some sort of ointment, then applied a
Whoop-de-doo, Beebe silently fumed, trying not to glare
at her new supervisor and potential colleague.
"And now for the left," Edith announced as she refreshed the
alcohol of the cleaning forceps' pads and began swabbing Beebe's
left breast and nipple.
The left-hand procedure was accomplished—it also stung—and
now both of Beebe's nipples were pierced, bejeweled, and
"Two down and two to go," Edith quipped as she stripped off her
"Lunch first?" Lizette suggested, then nodded at Suki.
"You can ventilate the sidekick's tits after we eat."
"An excellent plan," Edith stated, then reached behind her head,
untied her mask, and let it fall forward, revealing her
beautiful, freckled face and broad smile. "Seafood salad
on the veranda."
"Excellent," Lizette agreed.
Edith returned to the locker and removed her mask and apron, but
didn't don her blouse.
Beebe tugged on her bonds as the topless "Mad Doctor" and nearly
naked "Jungle-Girl" departed, closing and locking the door
Beebe gazed at Suki.
Suki gazed back.
Well, Beebe mused, as career changes go, I suppose it
could be worse. And if there's a way to escape
this 'Sisterhood" and Perta La Roque's 'Island,' we'll find
it... if we decide we want to find it.