Van © 2023
number of hours later...
Edwina was roused from her naked, captive, troubled misery by a
subdued cacophony of whining noise as several robot arms emerged
from their alcoves and lifted her into the air! At the
same time, the overhead LEDs brightened and shifted from red to
Still in a daze, Edwina had complained aloud and been rewarded
by a stinging shock from the obedience-collar still
locked around her neck. She was also still naked (of
course), and a web of amber rubber (probably synthetic) tubing
still restrained her body in an elaborate lattice-sheath from
her big toes to her shoulders—but not for long (at least with
respect to the tubing).
The steel arms were releasing her from her rubber/synthetic
bondage! And as strand by strand the bindings slackened
and melted away, the arms controlling her wrists, ankles, and
strategic parts of her body maintained her midair position and
helplessness. Edwina wasn't at all sure how her rubber
bonds were being dealt with. As far as she could tell they
weren't being severed, and when a strand loosened and its ends
flopped free, the tubing seemed to simply slither away and
vanish. None of it was dropping to the floor, so
presumably it was somehow being retracted into the manipulators.
Finally, nude and restraint free (not counting the hateful
collar), the arms gently lowered Edwina to the padded floor,
released their grips, retracted into the walls, and the
hex-pad-covers snapped closed.
Edwina raised herself to a sitting position with her legs
together and tucked to her right, then began examining her
body. Her fair, firm skin was crisscrossed with pink
indentations, but there were no evident bruises or
friction-burns. Her hair hadn't been touched, so it
remained plaited in a single tight braid and dangling down her
bare back. Since her hands and arms were finally free, she
groped for the end of the braid, pulled it over her shoulder,
and examined it closely. Some sort of tight, black,
elastic rubber or latex sleeve about four inches in length was
enforcing the interwoven arrangement. There was no way
she'd be able remove it using only her fingers, so she didn't
even try. Besides, given her circumstances, a long pigtail
was far superior to a tousled tangle.
So... Edwina was naked but not bound. Of course, the
system could decide to impose new restrictions on her at any
time, but at least for the moment... she was free... if one
could call being trapped in a subterranean padded cell
"free." Edwina climbed to her feet... rather clumsily
after her recent hours of bondage... then performed a series of
deliberate stretching exercises. It felt very good to
be able to move in a manner more complex than that of a pathetic
inchworm. As she flexed and stretched her muscles, Edwina
noted that the "tube-marks" on her skin were already beginning
Suddenly, a single hex-pad down near the floor snapped open and
Edwina's old "friend" the toaster-size mini-bot (the compact
automaton that had been her taskmaster on the running rack)
rolled into the cell... and skidded to a stop twelve inches in
front of her toes. Hands on hips, she gazed down at the
little bot with a sour expression... then spun on her bare heels
as, directly behind her, several hex-pads snapped open to the
left, right, and upwards, revealing the closed door to her
padded prison. Next, the mini-bot's red gumball light
flashed several times... then took on a steady ruby glow.
The chamber door whisked open (in typical Star Trek fashion) as
the bot rolled around Edwina's feet, trundled across the
threshold, made a right turn, and rolled down the
corridor. As it passed out of sight Edwina's collar gave
her a warning buzz. She rolled her eyes and
quickly padded after the bot. Thankfully, the irritating
little mech was setting a walking pace and she quickly closed
Their destination was the same tiled bathroom chamber she'd
visited after her run, and without waiting for prompting Edwina
stomped (padded) to the stainless steel commode, sat, and
emptied her bladder. (Something she wanted to do
anyway.) She then padded to the
washbasin/drinking-fountain, wet and scrubbed her face with her
hands... and quenched her thirst. That would have been
enough personal hygiene for Edwina for now, but the system had
Edwina turned and watched as the clear glass or acrylic shower
cylinder door slid open.
"Enter the shower stall," the voice ordered.
Edwina rolled her eyes again, but padded to the shower and
stepped inside like a good little damsel who didn't want to be
zapped by her collar. The door slid closed and as before
the lattice of pipes lining the interior gurgled, hissed, and
began spraying Edwina with cold water from all sides. She
flinched and shivered in response and in only a few seconds was
thoroughly drenched. Then, the stinging pelt of the water
"Use the liquid soap provided."
Edwina blinked and wiped the water from her eyes. Soap?
She then noticed the compact stainless steel dispenser set
among the pipes at waist level. Its cover-plate was
clearly labelled "SOAP." Oh... soap.
It was a manual dispenser and she had no difficulty pumping a
generous dollop of a milky white fluid onto her left palm.
Not automated, she noted. How... quaint.
Edwina rubbed her hands together... then soaped her entire body,
replenishing the soap as required. This process raised
substantial white suds and she noted they had a pleasant
botanical aroma. She wasn't sure what was in it, exactly,
meaning what herbaceous oils had gone into the formula, but she
liked it... and it was good to unreservedly like something
for a change. As an added bonus, the soap was
"no-more-tears," meaning it didn't sting when she scrubbed her
face and inevitably got a little of it into her eyes. Her
body was now slick and shining from head to toe.
Then, without preamble, the shower turned itself back on.
This time the water was warm and refreshing. Edwina
continued rubbing her hands over her body and began turning in a
slow circle. The suds sluiced from her skin and
disappeared down the drain-floor. She luxuriated under the
pulsing torrent... and made sure she was as soap-free as
possible, including her scalp. It would have been better
to have had her hair loose so it could get a thorough shampoo
and rinse, but that wasn't her decision to make.
Abruptly, the water stopped and was replaced by a steady,
omnidirectional blast of warm, dry air. Edwina continued
turning in place, using her hands to strip the water from her
body... then raised her arms over her head and continued her
slow turn. Eventually, she was dry and the arid windstorm
The shower-tube door opened and the red light atop the mini-bot
began flashing red.
"Follow the guide to breakfast."
Edwina thought that was a brilliant suggestion and
stepped from the shower. The chamber door whisked open,
the mini-bot's red light burned steady, and it spun on its
treads and trundled from the space. Edwina followed.
|TΛKΞN BY THΞ MΛCHINΞ
|| Chapter 4
perturbed. Something was strange. No... everything
was strange... and black... and silent. She blinked
her eyes several times, but all she could "see" was darkness...
total, coal-black, Stygian darkness.
"Mrrrmpfh." That was her voice, but something was plugging
her mouth, trapping her tongue, and some sort of something,
probably a breathing mask, was pressed against her lower face
and nose. She could breathe, but was thoroughly gagged!
Also, she was on her back with her arms at her sides. She
squirmed and twisted her body, but found she could barely
move. Straps of some sort pinned her in place at the
ankles, wrists, and several places over her legs, arms, and
torso. Another strap crossed her forehead and pinned her
gagged head in place! She could barely wiggle! Also,
something was jammed in her anus, and something else seemed to
be plugging her urethra! She was helpless and violated!
And not only were her limbs and body restrained and some sort of
gag/breathing mask covering her mouth and nose, but it was
almost as if she was trapped in—Her blood ran cold!—a
Had she been kidnapped by a psychopath and buried alive?
Suddenly, before Alice's panic could build to mind-numbing
terror—brilliant white light and a flood of cool air engulfed
her helpless form. "Mrrrk?" The lid of her "coffin"
had snapped open. She rejoiced at not having
suffered premature burial, but as her eyes adjusted to the light
she realized something alarming was happening! To
the accompaniment of whining motors, several robot arms were
extending in her direction, their complex manipulators open and
reaching! Then, a pair of them clamped shut on her
gag/breathing-mask and lifted it free.
"Arrr!" Alice swallowed, worked her jaw and licked her
lips, then tried to speak. "What the hell is—Mmmmf!"
Another pair of arms were pressing a strip of some sort of
adhesive-backed film or tape against her lips and mouth, cutting
her off in mid-inquiry! She'd been tape-gagged by the
Next, in a coordinated and impressive dance of technology, the
arms somehow released Alice's restraints and the straps
slithered away. At the same time, the object that had been
plugging her anus retracted and was gone! The catheter
that had been plugging her urethra disappeared as well!
Next, manipulators seized her wrists, ankles, legs, and torso
and the arms lifted her into the air and out of the
coffin! "MRRRK!" Alice tried to resist, but her most
energetic efforts were totally ineffectual. She was glad
to be free of the straps and out of close confines of her former
prison, but had no enthusiasm for a wrestling match with
mechanical steel arms. The steel arms in question were strong!
The lid of the sarcophagus-bot (Alice's former "coffin")
closed and the thing rolled away on some sort of tread
Alice could now see that she was in a largish room with a high
ceiling. Its concrete walls were lined with vertical steel
panels, several of which were open to reveal the origins of the
robot arms holding her aloft. She watched as yhe chamber's
door whisked open, her former mobile coffin/prison rolled across
the threshold, and the portal whisked closed behind it.
She shook her tousled blond hair from her tape-gagged face and
looked up. LED pin-spots were attached to a steel grid, as
were a half-dozen or so compact cameras. She looked
behind, as best she could, and her pale blue eyes popped wide in
Behind her was a stainless steel frame or armature in the form
of a large "X." More accurately, it took the form of a
skeletal stick figure with its arms and legs flung wide in a
full spread-eagle. It was canted at about 45° from the
vertical and had thick, wide, stainless steel clamps padded on
their interiors, all open like shackles waiting to close on a
hypothetical victim's wrists and ankles. "Nrrrf!"
Alice had absolutely no doubt who that hypothetical victim would
The robot arms had no doubt either. They were already
carrying her to the frame! "Nrrrm!" They manipulated
her body into a spread-eagle, pressed her against the frame, and
held her steady as the wrist and ankle clamps snapped closed
with authoritative clicks.
And then, the robot arms released Alice completely, retracted
into their alcoves, and the steel panels snapped closed.
Obviously, their work was done.
Pale blue eyes wide and tugging on her bonds with all her
strength, Alice was absolutely terrified, but she was also
intelligent and made of stern stuff. She forced herself to
control her panic so she could try to make sense of what was
Alice tugged and kicked, testing her new bonds, but found that
once again she could barely move. The padded cuffs fit the
anatomy of her wrists and ankles to perfection, and the armature
itself, while narrow, followed the curves of her limbs and torso
with matching precision. She even had a headrest. It
was a simple concave flange of un-padded steel, but it supported
her head and let her rest her neck muscles. This was
definitely not a haphazard, makeshift arrangement. The
elaborate industrial robot handlers had been her first cue and
the custom fit of the frame her second.
Five times in the course of Alice's acting career she'd been a
damsel-in-distress, appearing onscreen as a bound and gagged
kidnap victim or hostage. Five times. She'd been
cleave-gagged twice, gagged with duct-tape twice, and not gagged
in any way once. Three times her wrists had been bound
together in front and twice behind her back. Twice she'd
been lying on a bed, once on a mattress on the floor of a dirty
storeroom, once sitting in a hard chair, and once standing
against a steel support column in a dark basement. Four of
those times her bondage had been superficial, meaning she could
have escaped at any time without assistance and with little
difficulty. Only once, the chair-tie, did she know herself
to be truly helpless. That was also the occasion with the
most effective gag, a rag stuffed in her mouth and held there by
several tight turns of duct-tape-gag over her mouth and
completely around her head.
Alice was well aware that most screen bondage was laughable to
the point of being a cliché trope of helplessness, and that was
for three main reasons:
(1) The realities of production. Actors or
their stand-ins were often required to hold position for long
periods of time while the camera and lighting setups were
changed between takes, even when there were bound and gagged
damsels-in-distress involved. Elaborate/effective
bondage was time consuming to rig, release, and rig again, and
there was the added complication of maintaining continuity
between takes. Also, an effective gag might damage the
talent, leaving a skin rash or friction-burns in their wake
that the makeup department would have to deal with.
Not so with Alice's chair-tie experience. In order to
build suspense the script had repeatedly cut away from the
action to visit Alice's character, the kidnapped wife of a
prominent politician, as she struggled against her elaborate
bonds and cruel gag, and for once the director had embraced the
situation. There was also a lengthy gloating scene between
Alice and the villain.
(2) Over the decades, audiences had grown numb to ridiculously
loose bondage and pro forma gags and for the most accepted
both without notice or complaint. Almost any sort of
"restraint" was accepted. The actress acted like she was
helpless, so obviously she was helpless.
(3) Effective bondage was seldom critical to the actual plot,
so screenwriters usually left 90% of the details up to the
director, and directors were already juggling a dozen
expensive production issues and struggling to keep everything
up in the air. Convincing bondage simply wasn't a
priority, not if accepting the trope was an easy out.
Dramatically, it had worked. Practically, poor Alice had
spent many long hours tied to that chair with several
tight yards of hemp rope down the entire length of her
body, as well as being gagged with that effective gag. The
director and rigger had done the best they could. Most of
the ropes were hitched together behind the chair at strategic
points that could be released and reapplied without too much
difficulty, but wouldn't show from any of the camera positions
used. Also, the duct-tape was applied over a single wide
strip of medical tape that had a weak, hypoallergenic
adhesive. The duct-tape was then carefully slit at the
nape of her neck and under her tousled hair. That way, the
gag could be peeled off and reapplied with a single short strip
of duct-tape in the back to keep it in place.
All of that made it possible to let Alice take breaks now and
then, but she still remembered that shoot as one of the worst
experiences of her career, right up there with the time she
spent most of an entire shoot filthy, drenched to the skin, and
running through a dripping jungle with "angry natives" on her
Why she was reminiscing about past cinematic damsel-in-distress
experiences, even in the back of her mind, Alice had no idea.
There was nothing cliché or trope about her current predicament.
That was for damn sure! She'd decided to take an
afternoon nap in her temporary bungalow-home... and awakened to
find herself the naked, tape-gagged, and spreadeagled captive of
a bunch of industrial robots out of a big-budget science fiction
production! She just hoped she was the star of
the production and all she had to do was wait for rescue... and
not the minor cast member about to be sacrificed in the first
act to establish the future peril that would loom over the actual
star! It would have been polite to let her read the
|TΛKΞN BY THΞ MΛCHINΞ
|| Chapter 4
Edwina's surprise, breakfast was a rather pleasant, and above
all, semi-normal experience.
The mini-bot led her to a smallish chamber brightly lit by the
usual LED mini-spotlights mounted in the ceiling. There
were also the usual vertical panels, no doubt concealing the
usual strong, dexterous, and grabby robot arms.
However, in a novel development, there was furniture, and it
didn't appear to be more robot arms folded together to take the
form of a table or lounge-bed or examination chair. The
furnishings in question were a round, stainless steel café table
and a matching steel straight-back chair. Both were
ultra-modern in design, as Edwina supposed was to be expected at
Lydia's Lair, and the only thing "unusual" was that they
appeared to be firmly embedded in the floor.
The chamber door whisked closed, the mini-bot trundled to the
base of the far wall and rolled to a halt... and there she
was. Edwina looked around... but she'd already seen
everything there was to see. She padded to the chair...
stared at its shining, unpadded seat... and sat. Not
surprisingly, the steel seat was cool under her bare
As if on signal, three of the wall-panels snapped open and three
of the expected robot arms emerged. The first deposited a
covered tray on the table, then lifted the cover and retracted
back into its alcove. The second deposited a ceramic mug
on the table next to the tray and returned to its alcove.
At least the mug looked like it was ceramic. The
third arm poured tea into the mug from a stainless steel
carafe... then placed the carafe on the table and retracted into
its alcove. And it was tea! Edwina
could smell it! She picked up the mug (which was ceramic)
and took a cautious sip.
Brilliant! Edwina actually smiled. It was
English Breakfast Tea, her favorite morning beverage. She
turned her attention to the plate... and the delicious aromas
emanating therefrom... and beheld an artfully arranged selection
of breakfast foods. There were small toast squares
slathered with marmalade, a variety of tiny quiches (ham,
shrimp, and Lorraine), small pastries, slices of apple,
whole strawberries, and small scones. Everything was
finger food, which was a good thing because no eating utensils
of any kind had been provided.
Edwina tucked into the modest feast with carefully concealed
enthusiasm. Not counting gorp pumped into her mouth, this
was the first real food she'd been served since her capture, and
she was hungry. Still, Edwina Bliss had her pride... as
well as a lifelong habit of English Reserve to
Anyway, the finger-feast was delicious, all of it. Edwina
would have preferred a "Full English" of fried eggs, fried
bacon, fried black pudding (blood sausage), fried mushrooms and
tomatoes, baked beans, bubble and squeak (fried potatoes and
cabbage), and fried toast. She rarely indulged in
such heavy, greasy repast, but this morning she could have
handled it... assuming it actually was morning.
Her stomach full (but not too full), Edwina sipped a
second cup of tea... then set down the empty mug and quietly
Apparently, that was the cue for the robot arms to reappear,
clear the table, then disappear back into the wall.
Seconds after the panels snapped closed, the mini-bot rolled
away from the wall, around Edwina and her table and chair, the
chamber door whisked open, and the gumball light atop the
mini-bot started flashing red.
"Follow the red light."
Edwina rolled her eyes, climbed to her feet, and quickly padded
after the mini-bot. I know! I know!
Their destination was a tiled chamber, but not the one
with the commode and glass/acrylic vertical shower-tube.
It was circular, with a domed ceiling, and, as Edwina had come
to expect, there were a dozen or more of the vertical steel
covers almost certainly concealing dormant robot arms. She
didn't get an actual count because as soon as she crossed the
threshold they all snapped open and the arms within extended,
grabbed her, and lifted her into the air!
It was the same as before, with Edwina's most energetic
struggles being easily defeated. Another humiliating dance
of control was happening as the arms pulled her wrists behind
her back. This time, however, the system demanded Edwina's
"Place your hands together,
palm-to-palm." the disembodied voice instructed.
Edwina's outraged feelings got the better of her as she decided
she'd had enough of being the plaything of a bunch of
robotic appendages and continued squirming, struggling, tugging
on the padded manipulators grasping her wrists, and fluttering
her fingers. Granted, it was pointless resistance on her
Edwina's brown eyes popped wide and her body went rigid
in the robots' collective grip. The shock collar had
reminded her of its persuasive capabilities. Edwina went
limp and the system took the opportunity of her immobility to
manipulate her hands and fingers into the ordered palm-to-palm
configuration and wrap them in a smooth, tight, neat cocoon,
using some sort of black tape. As Edwina recovered from
her obedience lesson, the arms continued wrapping her arms
together, past her now touching elbows and up to her mid
The collar had delivered a serious lesson. Edwina
was still gasping and shivering as the arms slid some sort of
flexible sheath up and over her tape-mummified arms. Then
the sheath—whatever it was—grew progressively tighter.
Dr. Edwina Bliss was no bondage aficionado, so she didn't
recognize the accessory now needlessly reinforcing her
tape-bonds as a classic "single-sleeve arm-binder." A pair
of attached straps dropped over her shoulders, crisscrossed over
her chest and above her breasts, snugged tight, and were secured
behind her back to the top of the sheath to the accompaniment of
a pair of audible clicks. Now the sheath couldn't
possibly slither down her tape-wrapped arms (something
that was already patently impossible). Additional straps
tightened over her breasts and around her waist, pressing the
sheath (and therefore her arms) against her back. The
breast-strap was unusual in that it more-or-less doubled as a
push-up bra with open cups. Its pair of oval openings left
her breasts totally exposed and caused them to bulge
a little. The waist-strap had a similar opening that
framed her bellybutton and left it exposed as well. The
style aspects of these particular design elements went
unappreciated by their wearer, but it was crystal clear that the
restrictive functionality of the breast-and-navel-exposing
straps was 100%.
While the robot arms held Edwina in midair they added a final
refinement to her condition. Two arms held her head steady
while a second pair stretched a panel of off-white tape between
their manipulators and pressed it firmly against her
lips, covering her lower face from nose-to-chin and
ear-to-ear. That's right, they'd applied a tape-gag!
A totally unnecessary tape-gag! Edwina was already
effectively silenced by the shock-collar that had just
demonstrated its painful efficiency, so why the tape-gag?
Tears welled in Edwina's brown eyes. It was all so cruel
and... redundant. And just when things had been looking
up. Just after she'd enjoyed a nice breakfast. And
just when she was being allowed to walk around naked but not
bound in any way (not counting the damned collar). So
The arms planted Edwina's bare feet on the floor, released their
padded grips, withdrew into their alcoves, and the covers
snapped closed, all of them. Then, the mini-bot's light
flashed a few times, glowed a steady red, and the bot rolled
towards the chamber door—which slid open to let the little bot
into the corridor.
"Follow the red light."
Edwina was already doing so. Shut it, you cybernetic
wanker! she silently fumed.
The mini-bot led its naked, armbinder-bound, collared, and
tape-gagged charge to another chamber. The door whisked
open, Edwina followed the bot across the threshold... then the
bot spun 180°, sped back into the corridor at high speed, and
the door whisked closed.
Edwina stamped her right foot in frustration, then glowered at
her surroundings... which turned out to be multiple reflections
of herself! The chamber was about fifteen-feet on a side
with a twelve-foot ceiling, and all four walls were perfectly
reflective. The ceiling was gray concrete with the usual
grid of LED mini-spots, but the walls were all mirrors.
Even the back of the closed door was a mirror.
Still in a decidedly foul mood, thanks to her recent
mistreatment, and knowing it was a completely pointless gesture,
Edwina padded to a wall and gave it a firm kick.
Aside from reminding her that kicking even semi-solid
objects was seldom a good idea, she was surprised to find her
foot had rebounded from what could only be called a padded
surface. Rather than silvered-glass or highly polished
steel, the mirror-wall appeared to be Mylar film stretched over
some sort of resilient padding. She turned to the side and
gave the wall a tentative kick with her right heel. It too
rebounded (meaning her heel) and her reflected image had
rippled, then returned to normal as the Mylar fluttered and
snapped back into taut, flat perfection.
This is a madhouse, Edwina mused, referring to all of
Lydia Aelios' lair. Not surprising, as it was designed
by a madwoman. She then gave her reflection her full
Edwina's naked body appeared to be none the worse for wear,
meaning there were no obvious bruises or abrasions marring her
The armbinder and its straps were either expensively tanned
leather or a very good synthetic substitute. It had a
black, gleaming, semi-matte, lightly pebbled finish. The
straps were tight enough to dimple her skin (and make her
breasts bulge, just a little), but none were excessively
tight. When she examined the binder itself, she found it
closed with a zipper (or similar technology), fit her
pressed-together arms and praying hands like the proverbial
glove, and hitherto unsuspected secondary straps encircled her
wrists and upper arms just above her elbows. All of the
straps—including the chest/bra-strap and
navel-exposing-waist-strap of which she was already aware—passed
through retaining sleeves sewn into the sides of the binder and
closed by means of some sort of steel snap-buckles. And
she noted that none of them had excess free ends. All the
straps fulfilled their tight functions without any provision or
need for adjustment. There were two final details:
(1) a D-shaped steel ring dangled from the bra-strap between her
breasts, and (2) a second D-ring dangled from the finger-tip end
of the binder. The rings seemed to serve no immediate
purpose, but Edwina knew them for what they were: attachment
points for leashes, leads, or tethers.
The shock-collar was still there, of course, with its QR code
block (which no doubt identified her as "Dr. Edwina Bliss,
prisoner and bondage-plaything"), and the weakly glowing red LED
light under her chin (that she assumed signaled that the
diabolical device still had sufficient power to torture its
Her tape-gag appeared to be conventional medical tape, the kind
she believed was generically referred to as either Microfoam or
by the popular brand name of... What was it?
Elasoplast? Anyway, the tape was off-white, had a
subtle milky sheen, and revealed the outline of her sealed lips
in three-dimensional bas-relief.
Edwina's brown eyes were... sad... and she heaved a silent,
tape-gagged sigh. I know how you feel, she
commiserated with her reflection.
As for her hair... Edwina turned her tape-gagged head from
side to side, watching her involuntary and very tight braid sway
as she did so. Her hair was secure and out of the way of
manhandling robotic arms, which she assumed was the practical
reason for the coif. God only knows what it's going to
look like when that braid is finally unraveled. Probably
as tightly curled as it's ever been.
Edwina continued staring at her reflection. What the
hell is going on? she pondered. Hours of
bondage. Various intrusive outrages. More hours
of bondage. And then... I'm released... and fed a decent
meal... which is followed by more bondage. This
is insane. And above all... inconsistent.
Lydia is playing with me, keeping me off balance. Why?
Up until that instant, everything that had happened during and
after Edwina's capture had been terrifying and, to say the
least, unpleasant. But in the back of her mind she'd
believed that ultimately... her treatment would come to
make some sort of sense. Twisted, immoral, and certainly
illegal, of course, but sense. And eventually the
bondage nonsense would stop and she'd be released. But
what if Lydia Aelios was gifted enough to program a stunningly
sophisticated cybernetic network and direct her robots
to toy with her... but was clinically insane?
This brought Edwina to a new level of dread.
Suddenly, the chamber door whisked open and the ultimate author
of Edwina's plight strode into the mirrored space.
As usual, Lydia was dressed in high-heel pumps and a designer
business ensemble of matching skirt and jacket and silk
blouse. Her corporate ID badge dangled from the jacket's
breast pocket and a black leather leash (the kind used to take a
large dog or a restrained damsel for walkies), was coiled in her
right hand. Her stylishly tousled brown curls framed her
beautiful, smiling face.
"Excellent," Lydia purred as she walked a slow, leisurely circle
around her naked, leather-bound, shock-collared, and tape-gagged
colleague, repeatedly slapping her right thigh with the leash.
Edwina's maintained a gagged-expression of careful neutrality
(all the while struggling not to pant through her nostrils and
thus signal her inner distress), and stared at her reflection in
"I had the system generate photo-realistic simulations of how
this ensemble would look on you," Lydia said as she continued to
circle her prisoner, "for my approval. I must say, it fits
you perfectly. I'm especially proud of my
'bra-strap' innovation. It makes your perky little breasts
even more perky. Excellent." She stopped
pacing and stepped close, then clicked the snap-hook at
the end of the leash through the D-ring on the bra-strap in
Edwina flinched at the sound of the click, but that was
her only reaction.
Still smiling (in a wicked, evil manner) Lydia slipped the
retaining loop at the end of the leash over her right hand, then
grasped the far end of the leash, just short of the snap-hook,
and pulled Lydia even closer until they were face to tape-gagged
face. Captor and captive locked eyes.
Edwina was fully aware that nothing was stopping her from
lifting her right knee and delivering a substantial number of
newtons between Lydia's legs, nothing but the inevitable
electrical punishment that would follow, of course. She
stared into Lydia's pale blue eyes and controlled the urge to
strike... as well as the urge to surrender to the despair
threatening to engulf her very soul.
Reveling in her wicked power (Edwina assumed), Lydia held her
prisoner even closer, took a step to her right, stretched her
right arm around Edwina's arm-binder-bound arms and body, then
used her left hand to grasp and squeeze Edwina's right
Edwina flinched and resumed staring at her reflection, adding
the sensation of Lydia squeezing her breast and toying with her
nipple to her list of things-to-be-ignored.
"I apologize for stepping up the leather bondage test
protocols," Lydia purred in Edwina's left ear as she continued
massaging her breast. "I'd intended to give you at least
forty-eight hours of relaxation before introducing the
arm-binder, but there have been recent, shall we say, wonderfully
fortuitous events that I've decided it will be interesting
to share. Your participation should be instructive and
educational for all concerned."
Lydia stopped toying with Edwina's breast, extended her left
index finger, and used it to trace the outline of her stoic (but
terrified) prisoner's tape-gagged lips. "I also apologize
for the tape. I know that, thanks to your pretty choker,
you've been putting real effort into remembering to be a good
girl and not make unpleasant noises or rude remarks." She
gave the front of Edwina's obedience-collar a playful
poke. "But someone not already in on the secret might be
confused by your silence." She resumed toying with
Edwina's right nipple. "Hence the totally superfluous
tape-gag." She turned her head and focused on their
side-by-side reflections on the mirror-wall.
Someone? Edwina wondered. Who is she prattling
"You must admit it's pretty, isn't it? The tape-gag I
mean. The head-harness-panel-gag that goes with the
remainder of this—the first leather ensemble—is also cute,
if the simulations continue to prove accurate. So, I
suppose you should be grateful for a simple tape-gag,
as opposed to a mouth-filling ball or plug. Yes, let's go
with that. Grateful. Are you feeling grateful,
Lydia released her left arm, took a step away, and smiled at
Edwina. The leash was still in her hand, so the long,
narrow, black leather strap drooped between them.
"Now, come with me," Lydia ordered. The mirror-chamber
door whisked open and the smartly dressed Lydia led her naked,
leather-bound, collared, tape-gagged, and tethered captive
across the threshold and into the corridor.
As she'd feared when she first saw the leash coiled in her
Lydia's hand, Edwina was being taken for walkies.
|TΛKΞN BY THΞ MΛCHINΞ