by Van ©2022
		Chapter 5

Eliza and Tippi awoke to find themselves in the embrace of Coco and Pepper and tangled in the covers of Coco and Pepper's luxurious beds in their luxurious bedrooms, respectively.  They were still naked and bound in the same bolero-bare-boobs-straitjacket and single-sleeve-armbinder, and with their ankles bound in padded leather cuffs and by a black terrycloth bathrobe sash, also respectively.  Coco and Pepper wished their guests/prisoners a "Good morning," then released them completely.  Soon, all four were completely naked and on their way to their respective bedrooms' attached baths.

In the senior sister's bathroom, Coco waited until Eliza had taken her tinkle, then took the precaution of cuffing the glowering blonde's wrists behind her back with a pair of stainless-steel handcuffs padded with natural rubber tubing cut to the appropriate lengths.  She explained the padded and waterproof restraints were a precaution, in case Eliza decided to escalate from annoyed resentment to feisty aggression once they were in the shower.  The rubber tubing would protect Eliza's delicate wrists.  Eliza took offense at Coco's use of the word "delicate," of course, but it was too late.  The cuffs were in place and it was all over but being led to the shower, wet down, soaped up, scrubbed down, rinsed off, toweled down, and the subsequent hair care.

I her opinion, Eliza had really needed the shower she'd shared/received with/from Coco, at least with respect to her arms and torso.  Her upper anatomy had been sweaty when she emerged from the sauna mid-morning yesterday, then had been encased in the insidious bolero-boobs-straitjacket and remained that way through the rest of the day and the entire night!   Coco might have wanted her morning shower, but she hadn't really needed it.

The ball-gag had remained dangling around Eliza's neck during the shower and the subsequent toweling and hair care, and it was still there, carrying the constant threat of instant use.

Meanwhile, in Pepper's bedroom, Tippi had remained completely free during her shared watery ordeal (also slightly nervous and somewhat meek).  Pepper used a soapy washcloth to thoroughly scrub every square-inch of Tippi and herself, then shampooed both heads of hair—brown and short and brown and longish, respectively—followed by a thorough rinse and a brisk toweling, then the use of a handheld blow-dryer, comb, and brush.  Tippi wasn't allowed to do anything for herself.

And then, it was back to the bedroom, into the walk-in closet. and Tippi watched (nervous, meek, and nude) as Pepper donned panties, tank-top, and designer jeans, all in the obligatory black, of course. 

Next, bondage reared its shiny head!  Pepper pounced and Tippi found her wrists cuffed behind her back!  The cuffs were padded with yellowish lengths of natural rubber tubing.

"Hey!" Tippi objected as she tugged on the cuffs.  "What are these for?"

"I'll take that as a rhetorical question," Pepper chuckled, "as the function of handcuffs is manifestly obvious.  The tubing is to cushion your wrists."

"C-cushion?" Tippi whined.  "Why now?  Why me?  I've been good."

"You have been good, darling," Pepper purred.  "You've been very good."  She leaned close and planted a kiss on Tippi's pouting lips.  "But I find the sight of a beautiful naked damsel in cuffs aesthetically pleasing, especially by early morning sunlight."

Tippi continued pouting, but said nothing more, and she still kept her thoughts to herself when Pepper produced a ball-gag (black ball, black strap, shiny buckle) and buckled it around her neck on its first hole, leaving it dangling around her neck like a particularly ugly and absurd necklace.  Tippi was afraid the black silicon ball might wind up in her mouth if she raised a fuss, so her pouting remained sullen, sulking, and silent.  Nudity, rubber-padded-cuff-bondage, and a threatening ball-gag-necklace!  It was so unfair.

The Vespini sisters and their identically naked, cuffed, ball-gag accessorized, and glaring or pouting young guests arrived at the kitchen more-or-less simultaneously.  It was time for breakfast.

Pepper did the cooking (bacon, eggs, and toast), while Coco started the coffee brewing then set the table in the breakfast nook.

The naked and cuffed house-guests sat at the table and, when their hostesses weren't looking, compared notes in whispered tones.  When their hostesses were looking, they pretended to enjoy the view of the early-morning garden through the bay window.  A couple of robins were hopping around the lawn and methodically slaughtering and devouring earthworms.  It was very interesting.

Unfortunately, just as the human food was nearly ready—Tippi reached the point in her narrative where Pepper had insisted on helping her sleep better—and the stealthy/surreptitious nature of the girls' debriefing abruptly collapsed.

"She did what?" Eliza demanded, meaning shouted, at the same time fixating Pepper with her fiercest scowl!

Tippi blushed and stared at the table.  "E-li-za!" she whined, "cool it."

Coco frowned and stared at her sister as they set the plates on the table and settled into their seats.  "What did you do?"

Pepper smiled serenely as she poured coffee into the mugs beside the four plates.  "Nothing important."  She winked at her big sister.  "I told you she was ready."

Eliza turned to Tippi.  "And you said yes?"

"No, no, I said no!" Tippi responded, blushing furiously.  "Or sort of no.  Mostly no.  And anyway... it was quick."

Pepper smiled, patted Tippi's head, then fed her a forkful of scrambled eggs.  "Poor thing," she purred.  "From now on I'll remember to take my time."

Eliza directed her wrath to Coco.  "So much for your bloody contract!  So much for no means no!"

Coco was not happy.  "Hold that thought," she said, filled Eliza's mouth with a fork-load of fluffy scrambled egg, then shifted her unsmiling face to her sister.  "Just to be clear, despite Tippi's expressed objections... you forced yourself on her?"

Pepper shrugged, but she was still smiling.  "Well, when you put it that way..."  She took a sip of coffee before continuing.  "I knew she didn't mean it, by which I mean the 'no' part."

Coco sipped her coffee as well, then turned to Tippi.  "I apologize, Miss Sparks.  My sister's unacceptable behavior will not go unpunished."

"No, I..."  Tippi was flustered.  "It's okay.  I mean, uh..."  She waited while Pepper held her coffee mug to her lips so she could take a cautious sip.  "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" Eliza huffed, then glared at Coco.  "But what are you gonna do?  Give her a stern talking to?  Make her wear something other than black?"

"No," Coco responded, returning angry stare with angry stare.  "I have just the punishment in mind."

"It better be good," Eliza growled.

"Let's drop the matter for now," Coco requested (ordered) and fed Eliza a slice of bacon.

"Don't hurt her, please?" Tippi begged.

"Later," Coco responded, "after we eat."

Pepper smiled and fed Tippi a bite of buttered toast.  "I still say she was ready," she said to the table at large.

Eliza and Tippi noted that despite the looming threat of "punishment," Pepper was strangely unconcerned.

The meal continued with the naked girls being fed and the clothed sisters feeding themselves.  Pepper's fate remained unresolved (and Tippi continued blushing).

When the meal was over, Coco ordered her wayward sister to do the entire cleanup.  Pepper smiled and set to work without complaint.

Coco sipped her coffee and gazed out at the garden.

Tippi (her eyes a little wide) watched as Pepper loaded the dishwasher, scrubbed the skillet, and wiped down the work area.  At one point, she wiped down the breakfast nook table and winked at Tippi, whose blush deepened in response.

Eliza frowned and said nothing.

Finally, the kitchen was spanking clean (so to speak).

"Fetch me a pair of hinged handcuffs," Coco ordered.

Pepper grinned.  Obviously the order was meant for her, but she played dumb anyway.  "Who, me?"

"Make that two pair of hinged handcuffs," Coco growled, "a pair of thumb-cuffs, and a two-inch ball-gag.  And not one of the ventilated breathers."

"Woe is me!" Pepper whined (chuckled), and padded from the kitchen.

Tippi (still blushing) turned to Coco.  "P-please don't hurt her," she stammered.

Eliza rolled her eyes.  "I don't believe it," she huffed, scowling at her pouting partner.  "She did what she did to you and you're defending her?"

Tippi shrugged.  "I just don't want her to do something bad to her 'cause she did to me what she did to me and you're all upset and... okay?"

Coco was watching the exchange with amusement.  "I would never harm my sister," she said finally.  "Consider this a part of your training."

"C-consider what?" Tippi inquired.

"You'll see," Coco purred.

At that point, Pepper returned with the ordered hardware and placed it all on the table.

Coco rose from her chair.  "Strip!"  Obviously, the order was for Pepper, as her little sister was the only other person present who wasn't already naked.

Smiling her usual dimpled smile, Pepper pulled her black tank-top over her head, folded it, and placed it on a nearby counter.  She then unzipped, pulled down, and stepped out of her black jeans, then folded and placed them on the counter as well.  All that remained was her black, somewhat skimpy bikini panties, and soon they too joined the black stack.  And then, without further instruction, a naked and still smiling Pepper turned her back to her big sister.

Click-k-k-k!  Click-k-k-k!  Coco used a pair of the hinged cuffs to cuff Pepper's wrists behind her back.  The second pair was used to cuff Pepper's arms together, just above her elbows.  Click-k-k!  Click-k-k!  And finally, she used the thumb-cuffs to cuff Pepper's thumbs together.  Click-k!  Click-k!   To no one's surprise, the ball-gag (black leather strap and black medical-grade silicon rubber ball) was next.  Coco used it to plug Pepper's smiling mouth, turning her smile into a grimace, then bucked the strap under her hair, tight enough to make her cheeks bulge.  It was a big ball, after all, bigger than any of the balls Eliza and Tippi had endured since their arrival, including the ball-gag-necklaces currently dangling around their necks.

Eliza smiled (for once).  So far, she was pleased with Pepper's treatment, especially the way Coco had bypassed the threat of a ball-gag necklace and gone straight to the thing's intended use.

Tippi was amazed, appalled... and also a little confused.  Why should she care that Pepper was receiving her just desserts?  And it wasn't like it was the first time she'd seen Pepper Vespini au naturel.  Both Vespini sisters had been naked at all the exercise, yoga, and sauna sessions... not to mention a couple of shared showers and last night in Pepper's bed.  But, for some reason, the sight of Pepper naked, triple-cuffed, and gagged was... different... and she didn't know why.

The three naked and bound (with one gagged) prisoners watched as Coco opened a cabinet drawer and pulled out a coil of white cotton clothesline.

Is there anyplace in this bloody mansion without a stash of rope, cord, tape, or expensive bondage gear? Eliza wondered.

Meanwhile, Coco had released the coil, padded close to Tippi, looped one end loosely around her neck, then tied a quick-release knot.  Next, she played out three or four feet of slack... and did the same to Pepper.  And then, she played out three or four more feet of slack... and Eliza joined the coffle.

"All right then," Coco said, "off we go."  And with that she stepped off, and as she had a firm grip on the far end of the white cotton rope, her naked, cuffed, and gagged (or gag-accessorized) captives had no choice but to dutifully pad in her wake.

For Eliza, the trip was largely a retracing of the wheelchair journey she'd endured yesterday.  They trooped through the main mansion... through the open iron gate and into the Institutional Patient Wing... past their guest bedrooms... to the elevator at the end of the hall... then rode the elevator down to the Subterranean Institutional Patient Wing.

This was Tippi's first real world introduction to the basement corridor and its depressing gray paint scheme, light-sucking dark-gray floor tiles, and dim lighting, and she was appropriately impressed (and horrified).  However, instead of the steel door leading to the cleaning closet that was set dressing for the Secret Door/Wall leading to the Sinister Dungeon Chambers beyond, all of which Eliza had described during her part of the surreptitious pre-breakfast debriefing, Coco led them to a different door.

Coco produced her master (Mistress) barrel-key and unlocked and opened the door.  The room beyond was about the same dimensions as the chamber with the Coffin Cage Eliza had been incarcerated in yesterday, and it contained something of similar shape and size.

Specifically, the something was a wooden box, somewhat like an elongated trunk or shipping crate, but the wood was sanded, stained, and finished, and the hardware polished and elegant.  The box was fine furniture, not an item of luggage or some wooden boards nailed together to protect in item of merchandise during transport.

The wood was dark, something like walnut, or possibly teak.  It was difficult to tell in the dim light.  All of the outside edges were protected by strips or rails of brushed steel set flush in the wood and held in place by evenly spaced brads or rivets.  The top was clearly a lid that closed on a three hefty, evenly spaced hinges on one side, and was secured by three inset, identical, and evenly spaced barrel-key-style lock-plates on the other.  Also, there were three small, square, hatch-like openings in the lid, each about a foot and a half square.  They were steel rimmed, like the lid, and with equally hefty hinges and similar barrel-key-style lock-plates.  One hatch was placed more-or-less at the box's midpoint and the other two above.

"You're gonna lock her in the box?" Tippi demanded as Coco closed and locked the steel door to the corridor, locking all of them in the chamber.

Instead of answering, Coco stepped behind Tippi and—"Mrrrf!"—changed her ball-gag from ugly necklace to damsel silencing mode.

Eliza stared daggers as her ball-gag was also put to its intended use.  She didn't even bother forcing an inarticulate protest past the rubber sphere now plugging her mouth.

"Now," Coco purred. "if there will be no further interruptions..."  She then unlocked the coffin-shaped box, trunk, cabinet, or whatever she called the thing, opened the lid, and set to work.

The aforementioned work entailed unlatching and removing the top halves of a series of wooden partitions set in steel-lined tracks running the length of the interior of the box—and it was soon obvious the box was an elaborate set of built-in stocks!  Clearly, and starting at the foot and working the way up, the stocks lightly padded openings were designed to capture and immobilize a hypothetical occupant's ankles, lower legs, just below her knees and just above her knees, her mid-thighs, wrists and pelvic area, waist and forearms, upper-arms and just below her breasts, and around the neck—and the padded openings between the halves of each partition were the exact shape and size required to accommodate the anatomy in question with very little room to spare!

Eliza and Tippi stared at the box's interior with gagged amazement and/or alarm.  The top halves of each partition fit tightly in steel tracks, but when the top latches were released, they slid out easily, accompanied by metallic sound-effects that suggested hidden rollers, springs, ball-bearings, or some mechanism to ease their passage but keep them rigidly in place once they were latched and secure.

Meanwhile, Coco had released her sister's neck-rope, elbow-cuffs, thumb-cuffs, and wrist-cuffs.  "In," she ordered, pointing at the box (and to no one's surprise).

Pepper executed a full-body stretch, knowing it would probably be her last chance for a while—winked at Tippi—smiled a gagged-smile at Eliza—then slowly, carefully climbed into the box.  Lying on her back with her ankles slightly apart and her arms at her sides, the spaces defined by shapes of the lower partitions' padded cutouts were a perfect fit.

It occurred to Eliza the fit was probably not a happy accident.  Coco had probably designed the "stock-box" to her little sister's measurements.  Then again, all of them were about the same height and shape, so any one of them could have taken Pepper's place.  Coco was slightly taller, but probably not enough to make a difference.

Meanwhile, one-by-one, Coco slid the upper halves of the stock/partitions in place, securing each pair of top latches.  T'link!  T'link!  Pepper was in the box to stay.

"As you can see," Coco lectured, "once the lid is closed, steel brackets cover each and every latch, making it quite impossible to remove the stocks from the inside.  Also, the partition-tracks are all quite snug, as Pepper will now demonstrate by trying to escape.

Pepper smiled up at her audience, but made no move to do anything, much less escape.

Coco sighed and shook her head, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a pair of spring-loaded clamps joined by a light steel chain—clover-clamps!

Eliza and Tippi's blue and and brown eyes popped wide above their gags.

Inside the box, Pepper started wiggling and squirming, as she'd been ordered.  The only sound was a very faint scratching noise as her fingernails scraped across the bottom of the box.  The inch-wide stock-partitions were absolutely solid and silent, as if they'd been screwed or nailed into place.

"Your obedience is too late," Coco purred as she leaned close, took her little sister's right nipple between finger and thumb, gave it a stretch, and closed one of the clamps around the pink nubbin.

"Mrrrf!" Pepper complained, grimacing and biting down on her mouth-filling ball-gag.  She did the same—"Mrrrf!"—when her big sister closed the second clamp on her left nipple.

"Ignore the drama queen," Coco chuckled as she smiled down at her writhing and mewling little sister.  Pepper's breasts bobbed and quaked, and the tinkling sound of the connecting chain overpowered the sound of her scratching nails.

Pepper's desperate brown eyes begging for mercy as she looked from face to face.  "Mrrrpfh!"

"The springs of this particular pair of clamps are quite weak," Coco continued.  "She's not in any real pain, but she knows they're there, and she can shake her tits as much as she likes and they won't fall off."  Her smile turned sinister.  "I have other sets of nipple jewelry that are somewhat more... vexatious.  They concentrate the wearer's attention somewhat better than this pair, but I think I'll leave them for another time."  And then, she closed the lid, incarcerating her kid sister in the cruel box, then turned the lid's locks, one-by-one.  Click!  Click!  Click!

To her surprise, Eliza found she was taking no satisfaction whatsoever in Pepper's punishment.  She tugged on her rubber-lined cuffs and stared at the locked box.

"Mrrrk!" Tippi had less control of her disapproval.  In fact, she was crying.  Tears were leaking from her distressed brown eyes as she stamped her bare feet and stared at Coco.

"There, there," Coco purred as she wiped the tears from Tippi's cheeks.  "Pepper and I have been playing games like this since we were little."  She then unlocked and opened the topmost hatch in the box's lid.  "There, see?  She's fine."

Tippi took a step forward.  Through the open hatch she could see a grill of thick steel wires, or maybe thin steel rods, and below the grill was Pepper's ball-gagged face.

"Mrrrf!" Pepper complained in muffled horror... then winked at Tippi, like before.

"Ham!" Coco chuckled as she closed and locked the "face-hatch," then unlocked and opened the next hatch in line.  It revealed Pepper's nipple-clamped breasts.  Coco reached into the box, hooked her right index-finger under the clamps' connecting chain, lifted it taut, then gave it a firm tug.

"Mrrrf!"  The complaint was from both Pepper and Tippi.  Eliza feigned indifference, but was more and more worried about how things were progressing.

Coco released the clips one-by-one—eliciting a gagged squeal from her sister—then closed and re-locked what Eliza decided to think of as the "booby-hatch."  And then, to the naked, cuffed, and ball-gagged captives' amazement, Coco pinched her own right nipple through her black tank-top and closed one of the clamps around her own nipple!  "See?  I told you.  They're not really painful at all."  She tugged on the chain until her cotton-covered breast stretched, just a little.  "Okay, that hurts," Coco winced, then removed the clamp and returned the set to her jeans pocket.

And then, Coco unlocked and opened the third hatch.  Not to anybody's great surprise, Pepper's lower tummy, pubic thatch, upper thighs, and private-parts were revealed.  "Now, just to be absolutely clear," Coco stated, "what my sister did was... this?"  She reached inside the box and began sliding the edge of her right hand between Pepper's thighs and against her labia!

Tippi's eyes popped wide as a shiver rippled down her spine.  "Mrrrf!" she complained (whined).

Eliza knew her friend well enough to see that her friend was... bothered.  Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to help her, other than tug on her cuffs and glare at their hostess.

"I'll take that as confirmation," Coco purred.  Her hand continued its gentle motion.  "And she did this until you orgasmed?"

Tippi's cheeks blushed pink where they bulged above her ball-gag.  "Nrmpfh!"  Eliza and Coco agreed that was also confirmation.

Coco continued her gentle massage, but slowly amping up the pressure.  "Wait, did I just verb the noun?"  Her expression became thoughtful.  "No, I think 'orgasmed' is a legitimate transitive verb."  Her smile returned as she focused on Eliza, who shrugged her bare shoulders, declining to express a grammatical opinion.  Coco's hand was still moving.

"Mrrrf!"  That was Pepper, from inside the box.  Tippi thought the junior Vespini sibling sounded more annoyed than distressed.  Go figure.

"Orgasmed," Coco continued, her hand still moving.  "Remind me to look it up later," she requested (ordered), "when you girls aren't gagged, of course."  Seconds passed as the massage continued... then, without preamble, Coco withdrew her hand, closed the hatch, and turned the lock.  Click!

"Mrrrf!" the contents of the box complained, again.

It was unclear what, if anything, Coco's manipulation of her sister's lady-bits had accomplished.  Tippi thought the middle hatch had been open and Coco's hand moving for just about as long as Pepper had "helped her relax" last night, but with Pepper locked in the box, it was impossible to tell if Coco had helped Pepper relax.  Pepper had made noise, but maybe she wasn't a screamer and had just been protesting her big sister's kinky cruelty.  Tippi resolved to find an opportunity to ask Pepper to clarify the orgasm issue later, once her punishment was over and she was out of the box.

And speaking of punishment, Coco had padded to the foot of the box and unlocked and opened a fourth, previously unnoticed hatch.  This one was set in the box's vertical end-panel, and not surprisingly, it revealed Pepper's feet, or more precisely, her heels, soles, and toes.

"I sized this opening so someone could lie on the floor and be able to lick the occupant's feet from heels to toes," Coco explained.  "It also makes the occupant's feet available for tickling, zapping with electricity, caressing with ice, or other torments."  She illustrated her point by reaching into the box with both claw-like hands and lightly scratching her fingernails the length Pepper's tootsies.

This time, it was clear the resulting faint, well-muffled, gagged squeal from inside the box was both a complaint and an expression of genuine distress!

Smiling her sinister but beautiful dimpled smile, Coco stopped torturing her little sister, focused on Tippi, then indicated the open hatch with a graceful gesture.  "Say the word and I'll remove your gag, hog-cuff you on the floor, and lock you in here for a few hours of wet, slurping, toe-sucking, personal revenge."

Tippi's eyes popped wide and she shook her head in frantic, ball-gagged horror.  Her pageboy swayed in its usual charming manner.

"Hmm...  Such a sweet, young, forgiving thing," Coco purred, "and I love the way your hair sways when you do that.  Hmm... I think I will see that you get that haircut we talked about."  She shifted her smile to Eliza.  "You too, Tomboy."

Tippi and Eliza exchanged horrified stares as Coco closed and locked the foot-hatch.

"Well, time to leave my sister to contemplate her sins," Coco said with a grin.  Then, with the coffle-rope still joining Eliza and Tippi neck-to-neck in her left hand and Pepper's former cuffs and ball-gag in her right, she led the way from The Box Room.

The steel door swung closed, the barrel-key did its thing—Click!—and Pepper was alone in the pitch black confines of her coffin-like prison.

Coco retraced her steps to the living quarters of the main mansion.  Eliza and Tippi, being naked, handcuffed, ball-gagged, and leashed by the white cotton rope in Coco's hand, decided to tag along.  Their ultimate destination was the mansion's luxurious and well-equipped home gym.  Once there, Coco tugged on the neck-rope's quick-release knots, freeing her prisoners to make a run for it.

They didn't.  Instead, they let Coco lead them towards the running machine.  It was a conventional but high-end model, a treadmill with waist-high hand-rails and a touchscreen control panel mounted on a pedestal at one end.  The motorized base could be programmed to tilt and simulate "hill work," but at the moment it was perfectly level.

"Up you go, Tomboy," Coco purred, indicating the machine's rubber tread with a sweeping gesture.

Eliza glared defiantly and made no move to step onto the machine as ordered.

"Be a good girl," Coco chided the scowling blonde.  "It's time for your daily exercise."  She then draped her right arm across Tippi's bare shoulders, smiled, and gave her a sideways hug.  "I know poor Tippi is traumatized by the experience of last night, so I'm giving her an off day.  But not you, Tomboy.  Up you go."

Eliza's choice was to either go along and take her medicine (meaning her exercise), or continue to rebel.  That might mean the end of her blog-project, or it might mean... who-knows-what?  And she had Tippi to consider (and worry about).  And speaking (meaning thinking) of Tippi, she was blinking her big brown eyes at her best friend and partner and looking all cute and worried (meaning scared).  It isn't fair!  Eliza silently complained, then stepped onto the base platform and glowered at their hostess/captor.

"Good girl," Coco smiled, then started programming the machine's touchscreen.  Her stabbing finger was accompanied by various electronic sound effects.  "This a nice long program," she explained as she continued hitting virtual buttons.  Bleep!  Beep!  Blong!  "A challenging workout, but I know you can handle it."  She hit a final button—Bleeep!—then directed the full power of her happy, infuriating, dimpled smile to Eliza's frowning, ball-gagged face.

The motor hummed to life and the rubber tread under Eliza's bare feet began to roll... slowly.  She stepped off on her right foot and began to walk.  The pace was not at all taxing, but this was unsurprising as the word "WARMUP" was currently being displayed in big red letters in the "PROGRAM STATUS" block of the machine's display.

"I've been thinking about an Art Installation with a running machine motif," Coco purred, "a treadmill similar to this one, only decidedly more ominous, and inside a cage.  A locking harness would support and restrain the hypothetical runner, keeping her centered on the track and safe from mishap.  And she'd be truly helpless, manacled and shackled, gagged with the mouthpiece of a flexible hose that also monitors her breathing rate and carbon dioxide production.  And she'd have no choice but to run, for as long and as fast as the computer controlling her fate decreed.  And if she tried to slack off or step off the treadmill, she'd receive correction in the form of harmless electric shocks administered to some of her favorite nerve endings."

Coco's smile became a somewhat sheepish and she gave a little shrug.  "I know.  I'll be the first to admit it's far from an original idea.  Jeff Gord played with several different versions of the basic concept.  Nonetheless, I think I can be... more elaborate, if not better."  Coco's usual gorgeous (evil) smile returned.  "Perhaps, as I watch you run in your comfy-cuffs and pretty ball-gag, I'll be inspired."

Eliza recognized the name Jeff Gord from the research she'd done to prepare for her Vespini Project... which she realized might be spinning out of control and well on its way to becoming Coco Vespini's Project.  The treadmill continued accelerating... slowly... but was still below the level of a power-walk.

"And don't worry about not being able to grab the hand-rails," Coco reassured Eliza.  "The program I've selected is rigorous, but since I've had an opportunity to evaluate your fitness level the last couple of days, I know you're up to the challenge."

And with that, Coco led Tippi to the window wall on the far side of the gym.  Beyond the glass was a pleasant view of a large patch of grassy lawn, a cluster of rhododendrons, and the mature cedar forest beyond.  A café table with a pair of cushioned chairs was tucked in one corner, suitable for sitting, sipping tea, and watching other people sweat.  And in the other window-side corner was a lounge chair with a thick cushion, suitable for serious goofing off.

The running machine had picked up the pace a little, but still claimed it was in WARMUP mode.  Naked, her wrists cuffed behind her back, and the ball-gag in her mouth, Eliza trudged on the rubber roller and watched as Coco prepared the coil of cotton clothesline, their former coffle-rope, for use.  (She noted Tippi was also watching, with keen interest.)  And then, once again, Eliza's research came to her rescue.  She recognized a classic "kimono-tie" as Coco used the doubled rope to encircle Tippi's upper torso, just under her armpits and above her boobs, then yoke her shoulders.  Coco then "suggested" Tippi recline on her stomach on the lounger, Tippi did so, and Coco used the remaining rope to execute a stringent cross-legged-hogtie.  Tippi's hands and fingers could easily touch her heels, but the rubber-padded cuffs binding her wrists weren't involved in the rope-work.  The hogtie was enforced by strands of braided, white cotton traveling between Tippi's crossed-ankle-bonds and the nexus of her kimono-tie.  There were also a couple of loops of rope encircling her elbows, but loosely, there as much to let Tippi know they were present as to prevent her from thrashing around with her arms.

'Power, restriction, and manipulation,' Eliza mused.  Coco was being true to her motto.  Everybody in the mansion was her naked prisoner and subject to her will.  Eliza found this... intellectually stimulating (but not at all frightening).

And then, after a few whispered remarks in Tippi's ear, impossible for Eliza to hear... Coco peeled off her clothes, folded and neatly stacked them on the seat of one of the café table's chairs.  And then, naked but in no way bound or gagged, she began her usual pre-exercise warmup exercise routine.

Just then, the running machine emitted a musical chime—Bong!—the WARMUP message winked out and was replaced by "PHASE 1," and the treadmill slowly accelerated to the pace of a power walk.  So did Eliza.  Information was available on the touchscreen about what lay ahead, graphics and text, but Eliza ignored the display and let the rubber rolling under her bare feet be her guide.

By the time Coco had finished her warmup and was planting her firm, naked butt on the rowing machine's minimal seat, Eliza had no choice but to break into a jog... which became an actual run.

In the course of the next hour, Coco went from machine to machine (with the exception of the running machine, of course) and rowed, stepped, lifted, pushed, pulled, and twisted her increasingly sweaty way through a serious workout.

Tippi lay on the soft cushion of the lounge chair in her inescapable bonds, watched Eliza run and Coco exercise, and "enjoyed" her off day.

As for Eliza, she stared daggers at Coco, whenever possible, ran... ran some more... and continued running, panting through her ball-gag and sweating like the proverbial pig.  And Coco's estimation of Eliza's fitness level proved to be correct.  Stressed and slippery as she was, Eliza never came close to stumbling, losing her balance, and falling off the treadmill.