by J.Q.T.
Illustrations by Tarsis
Originally Published in Bondage Life No, 22, November 1985
transcribed by guardian46wStory Codes: MF/f, bond, bdsm, cons, rope, cuffs, gags, roleplay
Read this and ask yourself, is this snappy dialogue or what? A new Harmony fictionist now brings us this following measure of drawing-room bondage in the style of Noel Coward meets Neil Simon, continues a tradition of Bondage Life writing excellence and growth which moved from the soft grace of Brian Sands melodramas in our first issues to the finely-tuned far-out fantasy craft of George Arthur Green's "The Mansion" during our middle issues and was extended most recently by the tantalizing "So that's your real fantasy" males-in-bondage scintillations of talented bondage author Jeff Sinclair. It is heady stuff to be blessed with writers of such high caliber (we would welcome an opportunity to acquire stock in J.Q.T.'s writing future). To confirm these editorial boastings of ours, check out this first fiction by latest contributor J.Q.T. - better dialogue than this you do not easily find.
The Editor
I. Giving Him Enough Rope
Robyn quickly proved him correct. "Would you mind if I looked for a job?"
"Can't you find a place for me in your business?"
"I could be an actress or a model."
"I thought you didn't like bondage?"
"Well, I don't need any more actresses or models."
"I bet you can too. Fortunately, Miss Von Dreck does more than type."
"Let me think for a minute," Gaylord teased. "She certainly is a good sport."
"The last time I checked, it needed a few good slaves."
"Technically, you may be right, but a slave can be sold or rented. Assuming you own yourself, you ought to be able to clear more than a good secretary."
"Slavery has a few drawbacks. I don't think a slave can quit, and if she complains she gets punished."
"Be serious for a minute," Said Robyn. "There must be some job I can do."
"How much does it pay?"
"The fact that I have lots of money is not a reason for selling myself cheap. How much does it pay?"
Robyn sat down disgustedly, poured herself a cup of coffee, and took a few half-hearted sips. "Okay, it's a deal," she said sullenly.
"Of course not, you silly ass! I've decided to start as a slave. One week should be long enough. It will cost you one dollar more than whatever you pay the good sport."
"If the price is fair, what's the problem?"
"That just goes to show how little you really know me."
"How long do I have to get ready?"
"Don't be ridiculous. You don't have to tie up a slave."
"Even if there's no rope in the house?"
"You sneaky son of a bitch! You've been planning this all along."
"No, I'll get your precious rope. If you want to play Fantasy Island, what's a poor slave to do?"
"Just one for now," said Gaylord. It's mostly a matter of taste, but I'm sure I could find a use for as much as you care to bring."
"One at a time," said Gaylord. "I want to do a good job without making you too uncomfortable."
"That should do the trick," said Gaylord, knotting off the ends of the cord, figure-eighting her now crossed wrists.
"You've been wanting to do this for a long time. I hope that you're not disappointed.""It isn't unpleasant," said Gaylord.
"Well, that's a start, said Robyn. "What else can I do to heighten Master's pleasure?""Don't be impatient," said Gaylord. "Maybe we can get some use out of that silly brass bed you picked up at the charity auction."
"That sounds more like it," said Robyn, springing forward with an eagerness not usually associated with slaves."I thought slaves walked behind their Masters," said Gaylord.
"Sorry about that," said Robyn, tugging at the cords on her wrists more to conform their security than to try to escape. "What would you like me to do?""As soon as we reach the spare bedroom, I'd like you to sit on the bed so that I can tie your ankles."
Gaylord tied more thatn her ankles. Robyn was astonished at how deftly he threaded the cord through her thighs in order to tighten the strands already encircling her legs at a point just above her knees. "You've done this often?" she asked."Not as often as I'd like," said Gaylord, first running a cord from her ankles to a bar at the foot of the bed, then running a cord from her wrists through the bars at the opposite end.
"Hey, take it easy!" Robyn squealed as a jerk on the cord from her wrists pulled them up and away from her body.Gaylord seemed pleased with his rope work. "This is how they tied Gwendoline in the old mill, except you get to lay on your side, and I don't think you"ll see any rats."
"It must be my lucky day! What further good fortune awaits me?""You'll find out when I'm through playing golf. It is Sunday morning, remember?"
"What am I supposed to do all morning?""You're not supposed to do anything. Of course, if you get free, you can do anything you want."
"You're less fun than Sir D'Arcy," said Robyn."The point is well take," said Gaylord. "The last thing I need is a conceited slave, but I have to admit that you look kind of good like that. I'll think up some excuse to quit after the first nine holes."
Before Robyn could speak, a hand clamped over her mouth. "Don't make me gag you," said Gaylord. "That's something I'd rather save until I'm around to enjoy."Before leaving he kissed her forehead.
II. Enough Of This Talk
Robyn heard a key in the lock, a refrigerator door open and close, and, after what seemed like minutes, steps on a carpeted floor. "Sorry I'm late," said Gaylord, sipping on a can of beer. "The course played a lot faster when they keep women off on the weekends.""We can argue about that later," said Robyn. "How about lowering my arms?"
"Well, don't keep me in suspense," said Gaylord, loosening the knot responsible for Robyn's immediate complaint. "Are you still a slave, or just another bound beauty?"
"You'll have to explain the difference. So far, there hasn't been any.""If you are just a bound beauty, I will have to untie you eventually. I may even take you out to lunch."
"And if I'm still a slave?""Then you'll have to undergo training. You're much too sassy for a slave."
"If I undergo training, will I have to let you tie me up?""Not while you undergo training, but you'll stay in training until six even if you change your mind about being a slave."
"Why until six?"In case you've forgotten, we're invited out for dinner and bridge, and you better play better than last time."
"It was your stupid play that kept us from setting six spades.""Don't push your luck," said Gaylord. "Even bound beauties may come to regret their words."
"Just for the record," said Robyn, "my status is still that of slave. I'm not backing out just because some chauvinist pig tied me up to a big brass bed.""In that case," said Gaylord, finally freeing her hands, "you better clean yourself up. From the looks of that negligee, you've been doing a lot of struggling."
"Tell me," said Robyn dryly, inspecting the marks on her wrists, "what are slaves wearing this year?""I thought you were the fashion expert. Just pretend you are Betty Page. The basic items will suffice."
"Give me twenty minutes," said Robyn, picking at the knots in the cord still restricting the use of her legs."Make it fifteen," said Gaylord, enjoying her awkward efforts to extricate her lower extremities.
When Robyn finally returned, Gaylord was reading the sports page. "Do I meet your approval?" she asked.Gaylord looked at his watch and scowled, then said, "Irving Klaw would be proud of you, except, of course, for your hands. I'll take care of that right away."
"You said that I wouldn't be tied.""For a slave you're a lousy listener. I said that you wouldn't have to let me tie you up. I'm going to tie you up whether you let me or not."
"That's big talk from a bundle of flab. I work out at the club every day."The contest was brief and decisive. Gaylord wrestled Robyn to the floor and forced her over on her stomach with a well-timed twist of her wrist. Solidly perched on her buttocks, he corded her still captured wrist before turning his attention to its counterpart. Once the cording encompassed both wrists, her struggling only helped her bondsman. "Okay, you made your point," she grunted. "You don't have to tie me so tight. I couldn't get free this morning."
"Back on your feet," ordered Gaylord, dismounting his pinioned trainee. "You seem to be a slow learner. I gave you fifteen minutes to get ready. You took almost twent-five. That's why I tied your hands. While I was tying your hands, you fought me as hard as you could. That's why I tied them so tight.""Enough already!" said Robyn. "Hang me up by my thumbs, but spare me any more of your bullshit."
"Before getting to the fun stuff," said Gaylord, "I would like to address two matters. The first one concerns your shoes. Those are the kind I like, but, as you can see, they came off when a slave forgets to be careful. After I put yours back on, I expect you to be very careful.""Whatever turns you on," said Robyn. "What's the second thing?"
"The second thing is your posture. Nature has been reasonably generous. Always hold yourself proudly.""Like this?" Robyn asked pertly, turning slightly to the side and striking an exaggerated pose.
"Like that is fine," said Gaylord. "Just remember to hold yourself like that all the time. Now kneel on the floor before me."Gaylord waited for Robyn to kneel before resuming his oration. "Just because I'm training a slave, I don't have to miss Sunday football. I've figured out a way to make you part of the action."
"You want me to be a cheerleader?""Some other time," replied Gaylord. "I have a better idea! I want you to be a scoreboard."
"You're even crazier than I thought."Gaylord ignored the comment. "The Packers are playing the Cowboys. When the Packers have the ball, move to the other side."
"You don't follow the Packers or Cowboys.""The studio has a football pool. Everyone puts in a dollar. The Packers are one of my picks."
"I hope you pick football games better than you pick stocks.""On first down you will kneel, cross you ankles, and spread your knees. On second down, uncross you ankles and hold your knees tightly together. Think of yourself as an 'L'. On third down, rise to one knee. On fourth down, stand up and give both your knees a rest."
"You know I hate football. I'll have to watch every play.""When you change sides," Gaylord continued, "be sure to stay low so as not to block my view."
"Are you also planning to starve me?""As a matter of fact, I've already called out for pizza. Do a good job, and we'll break for lunch at the half."
"If you want me to be a scoreboard, how come you're tying my legs?""There's one more item we will need. This way, when I bring it back, I know you will still be here."
The item was a rubber ball through which ran a leather strap connected to a network of straps. Robyn had no doubt of its purpose. "Another little thing, I suppose, you just happened to have around?""Whatever gave you that idea? As a matter of fact, I stopped off at the studio on the way back from the golf course."
"I thought lady golfers made you late?""I don't recall saying that they were the ONLY reason. Now if you will open your mouth, we can start getting down to business."
"Do you have to gag me?""Who ever heard of a talking scoreboard/"
"Who ever heard of one in a bra and panty outfit?""The gag is more necessary than I thought."
"Can't you use tape? That rubber ball must taste awful.""Sally Roberts doesn't seem to mind."
"That's her problem. That thing isn't going in my mouth!"
"Whatever happened to freedom of speech?"
"By freedom of choice," explained Gaylord, "I mean letting you choose between something you do not like and something you like even less.""You'll never be a great communicator, Gaylord. Am I getting the old hard-way-or-easy-way routine?"
"Kind of," said Gaylord, stepping behind his slave, slipping his hands under her armpits, circling her chest with his arms, and dragging her toward a closet door. "I thought you might like to find out what it really was like in the old mill."Robyn watched Gaylord thread a long doubled-up cord over the doors upper hinge and between the door and the frame. Securing one of the ends to Robyn's already bound wrists, he pulled her up on her feet, forced her wrists toward the hinge, and made sure that they stayed that way by winding the other end around the door's inside knob. Closing the door further stabilized the bondage by pinching the doubled cord between the door and the frame. "If this really were Fantasy Island," said Gaylord, "you would be strung to a pulley hanging from the center of the ceiling. The hinge is more stable, but the view isn't nearly as good."
"I can't take this much longer," said Robyn, after minutes of futile shifting to find some bearable position. "Gwendoline was only a cartoon I'm real bones and ligaments.""It's entirely up to you," said Gaylord. "As soon as this ball is securely strapped in your mouth, you can come down from the hinge."
"This is unfair," said Robyn."That's what Faye Dunaway said to Robert Redford in Three Days Of The Condor, but, as I recall, she forgave him."
"Unfortunately, you are not Robert Redford.""Just open your mouth," said Gaylord. "You were the one who wanted to be a slave."
"Robyn's eyes met Gaylord's briefly, "For a Master, you're a lousy listener I don't recall saying that I wanted to be a slave. I just said I would be one for a week." She opened her mouth, wide.III. Sunday Afternoon Football
"It's almost game time," said Gaylord. "Let's try some game situations - third and seven for Green Bay." Robyn knelt on one knee to the left of the TV screen. "First and ten for the Cowboys." Robyn shifted to the right of the screen, crossed her ankles, and spread her knees.
"Excellent," said Gaylord. "now for a few refinements. Any self-respecting scoreboard should keep track of more than the downs. The more yards to go, the further your distance from the screen." Without getting off her knees, Robyn doubled the distance between herself and the screen.
"That looks about right," said Gaylord. "Position yourself on a scale of about one foot for each yard."In the course of responding to more hypothetical situations, Robyn discovered one more drawback of a mouth filling ballgag. Besides tasting bad and locking her jaws apart, it impaired her ability to inhale all the air that her efforts required.
"What good is a scoreboard," asked Gaylord, "if it doesn't tell you the score? So long as the scored is tied, hold your head in its regular position. When the team with the ball is ahead, raise your chin and tilt back your head. When the team with the ball is behind, drop your chin, and lean your head forward. The more one-sided the score, the more you will tilt your head. Now let's try one more situation. The Packers lead three to nothing and have the ball second and three."Robyn moved about three feet to the left of the screen, knelt with her thighs together, and lifted her chin just enough to permit her free-flowing hair to fall slightly away from her shoulders.
"You've done better than I expected," said Gaylord, "except for one little thing." Not withstanding the fish-like expression mandated by the ball gag, Robyn registered her displeasure with his qualified praise. "For some reason or other," he continued, "you've forgotten all about your posture. Let's make things a little easier."Gaylord made things easier for Robyn by roping her arms together as well as against her body. He took particular care with the cords encircling her body just above and below her breasts. "While I'm at it," he said, "I might as well immobilise your wrists." The immobilizer ran from her wrists, through her crotch, up the front of her body, around the back of her neck, and finally to the cords framing the breasts made more prominent by the cords drawing back her elbows. He tied off the new cord in a manner connecting the parallel strands above and below her breasts.
Without understanding why, Robyn felt her strange tasks a challenge. She might collapse from exhaustion, but Gaylord would never hear her cry through her gag for mercy.The Packers kicked off to the Cowboys. Robyn quickly discovered that the additional bondage made movement more awkward and tiresome. Without her arms as a counter-weight, rising to her feet was a problem, particularly in high-heeled shoes. Yet, there was one satisfaction. Despite Gaylord's apparent preoccupation with the action on the television screen, Robyn could sense him reacting to the swirl of her nylon-clad legs. She was glad she had gone with a garter belt instead of her customary pantyhose.
The principal problem was stamina, physical less than mental. At any rate, Robyn decided, her present ordeal was preferable to the bondage and abandonment experienced earlier in the day. She even found herself rooting for the Packers, partly because they were behind and partly because the Cowboys usually had the ball and holding up her chin was among her most irksome duties.After an hour of agony, Robyn made her final discovery. The last two minutes of a half may take longer to play than the previous six. Having made it this far, however, she made sure that the half ran out before falling over in exhaustion.
"Perfect time," said Gaylord. "I think the pizza has arrived."IV. Pizza Break
Robyn blinked in amazement. Had Gaylord gone completely berserk? Standing beside him with the pizza was the young man who had brought it. Stiff and restrained as she was, she instinctively curled her legs into a more modest position.
"Don't tell me you're embarrassed," Gaylord chided. "I'm sure the young man has seen a lot more bare skin at the beach."
Robyn collected her thoughts. This was better than being a scoreboard. If Gaylord was bent on her total humiliation, maybe she could rewrite the script. A plan was already forming."As you can see," said Gaylord, "we won't get much help out of her. While you slice the pizza and take that thing our of her mouth, I'll open a bottle of wine."
"Oh, thank you!" creaked Robyn, her power of speech now restored but her mouth still uncomfortably dry. "I don't hate all men just because one is a monster." To demonstrated her lack of hate, she merged the fullness of her body with that of her new acquaintance.As the deliverer of the pizza looked perplexedly at Gaylord, Robyn pursued her advantage. "He won't let you untie me." she said, "but he might not mind if you pulled up some of the cords that have worked their way over my breasts. After an hour or so, they really can cut into your skin."
Gaylord had heard enough. "You've been a big help," he said brusquely, peeling some bills from his wallet. "Don't you have some more pizzas to deliver?The young man took his cue from Gaylord, but not without several long looks at the figure in the bra and about eighty feet of rope. After the door closed behind him, Robyn sank to her knees, then to a sitting position. "What a bashful young man," she said dryly. "I think he's afraid of girls."
"If he isn't, he ought to be," said Gaylord. "Now are you ready for lunch?""How do I eat it, like an animal in the zoo?"
"That's up to you. Let me get you out of those ropes.""I know there's a catch," said Robyn.
"Of course there's a catch," said Gaylord. After we finish lunch, I want you to be thoughtful and pleasant. Considering your natural disposition, it could be your most difficult assignment.""Thanks for the compliment," said Robyn. "I see that being a Master hasn't broken your spirit."
"Come here for a minute," said Gaylord, "and I will explain the difference between a good slave and a great slave.""Another lecture?" groaned Robyn.
"You might call it that, said Gaylord. "Why don't you sit on the couch?" Gaylord joind Robyn on the couch and circled her waist with his arm. "A good slave," he explained, "obeys all her Master's commands. She performs any menial task. She expects to be tied or spanked. A great slave does more. She anticipates her Master's desires.""I get it," said Robyn. "A good slave would wait to be tortured. A great slave would remind you that the pizza is getting cold."
"She also would scratch my back or provide me with something soft on which I could rest my feet while I watched the rest of the game, that is, after we finish the pizza."For the next hour or so, Robyn tried to be a great slave. Gaylord had little to say, and she interpreted his silence both as approval of her efforts and as part of her so-called training. He was keeping her in suspense, and Robyn was sure that the ropes had not finished their work for the day.
It began with an innocent question. "Have you ever been to a dog show?""You know I have," Robyn answered.
"Then you know how they test obedience.""You want to find out how long I'll sit quietly where you tell me?"
"Not exactly," said Gaylord. "The best way to test obedience is to see how eagerly you submit to something you particularly dislike. Gather up the loose rope and the ball gag and join me by the closet door. I want to make use of the hinges.""Not Gwendoline in the mill again?"
"In the trade it's called a reverse string-up. No, we've run that one into the ground. I have something else in mind.""For crying out loud," complained Robyn, "I've been tied up one way or another all day. I've been a scoreboard and a foot rest. What the hell more do you want from me?"
"Until six o'clock," said Gaylord, "I want you to be a statue." A few knots later, she was.V. Shining Leather
Monday began with an announcement my Gaylord: "One difference between a Master and a slave is that the slave gets to make the breakfast."
"Does she also get to eat it?"
"Why not? I'm an enlightened Master. She also gets to wash the dishes and throw out the garbage.""Won't that make us late?"
"Not if you're through asking questions."Less than thirty minutes later, Robyn pronounced herself ready for her first day at the studio.
"Get your coat," Gaylord ordered brusquely without looking up from his newspaper."On a warm, sunny day like today?"
"I said get your coat. You don't have to put it on."Robyn obeyed with ill grace, returning with her favorite raincoat and following Gaylord through the door connecting the house to the garage. After pushing the button controlling the main door, she seated herself beside him in the venerable Buick next to her new Mercedes.
"Fasten you seat belt," said Gaylord. "Then hold out your wrists. I want you to try on some handcuff.""I'm a slave, not a convict," said Robyn.
"Thank heaven for that," said Gaylord, carefully tightening the cuffs so that even slim female wrists had no chance of escaping their grip. "Convicts have too many rights."The studio was a thirty minute drive to an older part of the city. As soon as Gaylord had parked, Robyn held our her fettered wrists. "They go great with my outfit," she said, "but people might not understand."
"That's why you brought the coat. Carry it over your wrists."It was Robyn's first visit to the studio. Under an unspoken agreement, she had stayed out of Gaylord's business, and, until the previous day, he had practiced no bondage at home. "I can't say I'm impressed," she said as an ancient elevator labored to the seventh and highest floor of a worthy candidate for an urban renewer's bulldozer. "If you hadn't turned down my money, you wouldn't be stuck in this rattrap."
"It's good enough for its purpose."The door to the studio, or, according to the lettering on the door, the NFB Corporation, was at the end of the corridor. "The 'good sport' is on time," said Robyn, correctly identifying the figure busily sorting the mail. "She's younger than I expected."
"She's old enough," said Gaylord. "In this business, it's the first thing you check. By the way, you will call her Miss Von Dreck. An order from her is just like an order from me.""Don't I even get introduced?"
"Meet our new slave," said Gaylord. "Slaves don't get to shake hand.""This way," said Von Dreck, her tone giving no indication that introducing a slave was other than a routine occurrence. "First, I'll show you around, then, I'll put you to work."
The tour turned out to be brief, ending in a small storeroom. "Start with this," said Von Dreck, pointing to a large leather sheath hanging from a hook on the wall."You want me to put that thing on?"
"Of course not," Von Dreck said impatiently, "I just want you to polish it. A military policemen once told me that he spent half his time shining leather.""You have interesting friends," said Robyn, "but what am I supposed ot shine it with?"
"There are some brushes and polish in the cabinet. You'll have to supply your own spit."As she had done in the car, Robyn held out her fettered wrists, "I can't shine leather in these."
"I don't see why not," said Von Dreck. "Oh, well, since you seem so inept, I'll take the cuffs off your wrists.""Gaylord has the key," said Robyn.
"Those are the cheap kind," said Von Dreck. "Almost any key ought to work.""Von Dreck quickly unlocked the cuffs, but total freedom was short-lived. Von Dreck deftly cuffed Robyn's ankles and, without further comment, left the room.
After an hour shining leather, Robyn welcomed Von Dreck's reappearance. "Do these meet your approval? she asked."We can talk about that later," said Von Dreck. "Your Master would like to see you. Then you will have to be marked."
"Marked?""Don't tell me that a well-bred slave like you never read the Story Of O?"
"You said Gaylord wanted to see me.""He wants me to tie you up first. I think I'll use some of these thongs." Von Dreck fashioned a knot-less noose out of a doubled-up thong and tightened it around Robyn's left wrist. Then she pulled the thong-circled wrist up behind Robyn's back and secured it to the opposite arm at a point just above the elbow. The length and thickness of the thong was just right for efficient cinching. "Too tight for that soft, smooth skin?"
"It may not turn blue for minutes.""Well, it gets even tighter after the other wrist is attached to the other elbow. Then you can report to your Master."
"What am I supposed to do, hop?""That might be fun, but short steps will do just as well."
"Can a slave ask a question?""I don't see any gag in your mouth."
"It's about the name on the door. What does the NFB stand for?""You are dumber than I thought." said Von Dreck, selecting some longer thongs and affixing them in a manner almost outlining Robyn's breasts. "'No Fake Bondage', of course."
Walking proved easy compared to opening doors. "You wanted to see me?" Robyn asked."Yes, that's what I told Miss Von Dreck.
"She's one scary lady!" said Robyn.Gaylord smiled and leaned back in his chair. "After lunch, we'll be taping a program. A rich client has covered all expenses. Unfortunately, he has written the script. Be prepared to make yourself useful."
"Useful?" Robyn asked suspiciously."You know, help with the costumes, make sure the coffee is hot, anything Miss Von Dreck asks."
"That's all you wanted to tell me?""Oh, just one more thing," said Gaylord. "How come you are all tied up?"
VI. A Place In The Sun
"Take off your clothes," Said Von Dreck.
"Out here on the roof?"
"No one else ever comes up here, and I haven't seen a helicopter in weeks.""Does that make you happy?" asked Robyn, carefully folding her dress.
"Keep peeling," Von Dreck instructed. "Put you things in the basket; then bring me the bondage board."After stripping to her panties, Robyn scanned the roof uncertainly. "There's nothing up here except gravel."
"I don't have all day," said Von Dreck. "It's the wooden thing by the entrance. I lugged it up here. You ought to be able to slide it over a few feet."The board was large and rectangular but only a few inches high. Robyn was able to move it by gripping some small metal eyelets implanted for another purpose. "That's close enough," said Von Dreck, seemingly unconcerned that Robyn was still wearing panties. "I'm going to give you a break. Gaylord likes to use the board for strict bottoms-up positions. You can lie on your tummy."
"I do everything you ask. Why are you tying me up?""Why are you letting me?"
Robyn let her body go limp as Von Dreck roped her wrists and ankles to the corners of the board. "How long must I stay like this?" she asked."I'll decide that later," said Von Dreck, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
Robyn's body suddenly stiffened. Small but surprisingly strong hands not only were stroking her back but they were working their way downward. Then, to her further horror, they ripped her panties right off. "What the hell are you doing?" she shrieked, twisting and turning as much as her tightly tied bonds would permit."No need to panic," said Von Dreck, Producing a role of tape and plastering strip after strip over Robyn's uncooperative lips. "Don't you want a more even tan? It's a little late in the year to get much help from the sun; so I rubbed in some special lotion. It will darken the light parts in not time."
Von Dreck used most of the tape. After burying Robyn's lips, she methodically stuck smaller pieces to one of the prominent mounds no longer covered by panties. "I was going to do this first," she explained, "but you wouldn't stop interrupting."Robyn had no trouble divining the purpose of the extra tape. More worrisome was her general predicament. Yet, neither the hardness of the board nor the degrading exposure accounted for most of her anger. "The damn little bitch," she thought, "is treating me like a nonperson."
Finally finished with the tape, Von Dreck picked up the little basket. "You won't be needing these," she said, playfully digging a heel into the white of the cheek not covered by any tape. "About the massage," she added, before disappearing from view, "I hope I'm not losing my touch. Gaylord says it helps him relax."There was nothing to do except wait. Shadows on the roof helped Robyn keep track of time, but nothing stopped the hardness of the board from pressing against her body, the ropes from chafing her skin, or the sun from drying it out. Sleep was out of the question.
Von Dreck returned with a flourish, wearing Robyn's discarded dress. "First a few pictures," she said, "then I'll get you out of these ropes. You've been spreadeagled only an hour, so a few more minutes shouldn't hurt."
Von Dreck took her time with the camera, missing no possible angle, then cut each of the cords connecting a limb to a corner of the board. "Untape your mouth," she said, "and take off those tacky ropes. I've brought you something to wear."Hampered by the numbness of her fingers, Robyn struggled with the knots in the cords no longer restricting her movement but still circling her wrists and ankles.
"Look what I've brought," and Von Dreck. "For reasons I can't understand, it's one of our most popular costumes.""What was wrong with the one I had on?"
"Very little, I'm sure, but it didn't seem right on a slave.""It's just a plain linen dress."
"With lace embroidery and cut-out shoulder straps?"The costume was a tennis outfit that Robyn gave low marks in styling but, in her naked condition, welcomed as something to wear. With it came tennis shoes to which she had no objections and, even more surprisingly, fit. "Let me see how you look," said Von Dreck, almost casually severing the cords adorning Robyn's wrists and ankles. "It's time we got back to the studio. Gaylord would be upset if he knew I was pampering a slave."
Robyn emitted a gasp as she reentered the room in which she had first shined leather. "Who in the hell is that, another of your slaves?""It's just Mrs. Smith," said Von Dreck, referring to the trussed-up figure balled up in the center of the room. "She's one of our better clients."
"Mrs. John Smith, I presume.""How did you know?" asked Von Dreck. "Don't tell me she's one of your friends."
"With that leather thing over her head, there's no real way of telling. The rope work, I take it, is yours?""I've been too busy," said Von Dreck.
"Then it must be the work of Gaylord.""No, she doesn't like Gaylord to tie her. From the looks of the bondage, I'd say that she did it herself. Despite all that rope on her legs and around the back of her neck, her wrists are secured with handcuffs."
"You mean Gaylord ties meaner than that?""You've got it backward," said Von Dreck. "In matters relating to women, he tends to be over-respectful."
"It's a good thing he has you around.""Exactly," said Von Dreck. "Hold out your hands."
"Can't I tie them myself?"Von Dreck went to work with her ropes. Once wrists had been tied in front, cords drawing back the arms pinned Robyn's elbows to her sides. There was no way the elbow cords could slip down and off Robyn's arms even if there had been some slack. "Now to fix up your outfit," said Von Dreck. "I have to do everything around her. We don't even have a wardrobe mistress."
Von Dreck was a hasty tailor. A few snips of her shears cut off enough material to reveal the small pieces of tape still stuck to an other wise darkened buttocks.Robyn tried not to wince as a hand roughly pulled off the pieces of tape. A nearby mirror confirmed what she already suspected, that the letters appearing on the door and providing the company's name now graced one of her twin rounded mounds. "Was it worth all the trouble?" she asked. "I've seen more amusing T-shirts."
Von Dreck was not through talking or tying. "You're one cord away," she said, "from being ready for lunch. It's been such a busy day that Gaylord sent out for Chinese." The Cord ran from the bondage in front to the bondage in back by way of a private area and as Robyn quickly discovered, served a bona fide purpose."Follow me," said Von Dreck. "We can't keep your Master waiting." Robyn followed with short, careful steps.
VII. A Nonspeaking Role
Robyn and Von Dreck joined five others in the main studio area. "What's he doing her?" Robyn asked, angling her head to make clear that the person to whom she referred was the one arranging some furniture.
"Herbert works here part-time," said Von Dreck.
"Does he also deliver pizza?""You'll have to ask him about that. He's a student at the City College. He offered to work here for nothing, but we pay him the minimum wage."
For Robyn, some pieces fell into place. No wonder she had heard no bell. No wonder the pizza was cold. Herbert must have been waiting outside for Gaylord to let him in."Are we ready to proceed?" Gaylord asked.
A middle-aged cameraman nodded."Any time," said a well-built brunette.
"Just one thing," said a statuesque blond, familiar even to Robyn as a beauty frequently bound in various bondage publications. "I don't understand this chess stuff.""There's nothing to understand," said Gaylord. "If you look close, the squares have numbers and letters. The white pieces, which are yours, move first. Move the pieces on 1A to 1B. your next move is 2A to 2B. Remove any black piece on a square to which you have moved a white piece. Don't worry about being slow. It will make it look like you're thinking."
"Won't some people be able to tell that it isn't a real game?""What makes you think it's fake? Herbert says these are actual moves from a world championship game."
"Let's get started already," said Von Dreck, thumbing through a copy of the script. "The girls get paid by the hour."Gaylord signaled to the cameraman, and the blonde and brunette took positions in what loosely was intended to pass as a room in the stylish apartment. "Don't you ever give up," asked the blonde. "Surely, by now you must know that your mind is no match for mine."
Before the brunette could respond, Von Dreck came out waving her arms. "We'll have to do something about this script. The program will be half over before anyone gets tied up.""Any ideas?" asked Gaylord.
"As long as we have a slave, we might as well put her to use.""You mean as a bondage prop."
"Why not work her into the plot? While I coach the girls, Herbert can get her untied and help her select a costume. Well, what's everyone waiting for?" she barked.Herbert stepped forward, then hesitated, accustomed to obeying Von Dreck but embarrassed by the placement of the knots. "If your fingers aren't working," said Von Dreck, "there are shears in the wardrobe room."
Back in the wardrobe room Herbert went to work with the shears. "Relax," advised Robyn in a tone accompanied by a friendly smile. "I need all the friends I can get. Anything you would like me to wear?"Herbert did not relax, but he quickly selected an outfit and left Robyn alone to change. From undergarments to shoes, his choices revealed him to be a Sweet Gwendoline devotee. Not lost on a slave with a closetful of expensive frocks was the irony of the appeal of a little scrap of skirt and a simple, low-cut cotton blouse.
Von Dreck was waiting for Robyn. With expressionless efficiency, she roped 'Gwendoline' to a straight-backed chair and affixed an elaborate gag with a foul-tasting leather mouthpiece. Each ankle was pulled back and up and secured to the back of the chair, leaving Robyn with firmly set legs but with some ability to maneuver the upper part of her body.Instructions revealed the reason for leaving some limited mobility. "I don't know if you play," said Von Dreck, "but show some interest in the game. Shift your head and body position each time someone moves a piece."
The camera started up again. "Care to try your luck?" asked the blonde. "Your friend lasted sixteen moves."The brunette used her hands to inspect the tightness of Robyn's bonds. "How will the loser be tied?"
"Any way that the winner wants""How must the loser dress?"
"Any way the winner wants.""I guess that makes it your move."
Robyn understood chess well enough to follow the flow of the play. The players, she discovered, could act. The blonde, at first with an angry snort, she swept all the pieces off the table. "How can I lose," she cried out, "to an idiot like you?"
"You can think about that while I am tying you up. Take off your skirt and blouse."
"You win for now," said the blonde, starting to take of her blouse, then suddenly attacked the brunette, who soon found herself on her stomach with a wrist up between her should blades."Figured out the next move?" asked the blonde.
"I think so," said the brunette, "I took out a little insurance. He's hiding behind the couch."The insurance was Herbert, a ski mask over his head. However, it was the brunette who, backed up by a masked assistant, provided the lesson in bondage. With a few pauses for close-ups, the blonde was soon stripped and hog-tied and her mouth packed with lingerie.
So engrossed was Robyn in the action that it took her a while to notice hand signals directed at her. "Okay, stop the camera." said Von Dreck. "I expected too much of the slave.""Think of it like this," said Von Dreck, as if talking to a kindergarten child. "You've been tied to a chair for an hour. Now there's someone to set you free. Try shaking you head for attention. Try making some sounds through your gag."
When the camera started up again, Robyn did a credible job of trying to attract attention. The brunette crossed the line of the camera and, with a malevolent grin, jerked back Robyn's head by the hair. "Don't be impatient," she siad. "After all, you lost fair and square. I'm entitled to a little bonus.VIII. A Gift From Her Master
"In five minutes we'll be home, and you still haven't said a word."
"Are you ordering me to talk?"
"Of course, I'm not ordering you to talk.""Then I don't have anything to say."
Gaylord tried anther tack. "I don't blame you for being mad. It started out as a joke, and I kind of got carried away.""I understand about that. I said I would be a slave. I just wish you had told me the truth."
"I did some bad things, but I don't recall any lies.""My Master has a shitty memory. 'Good Sport', my ass. She's a mean, arrogant bitch."
"Would it help if I told you that I bought you a present?""A mink straight-jacket or merely platinum handcuffs?"
"Give me a break," said Gaylord, a twinkle returning to his eyes. "It's not easy to pick out a gift for the slave who has everything.""If it's so special, why not give it to the 'good sport'?"
Gaylord tried another approach. "Okay, you've been terrific, and I've been a miserable bastard. If you want to work at the studio, you can be my special assistant.""How about your partner?"
"Corporations don't have partners. You of all people should know that.""Then how about president?"
"How about vice president" A company has only one president, and, in this case, that happens to be me.""Will that put me over Von Dreck?"
"Okay, vice president and general manager.""I'll think about it," said Robyn. "Meanwhile, get over to the right before you drive past our turnoff."
The drive was completed in silence. Gaylord shut off the motor and with the aid of a device clipped to the visor above him, closed the garage door behind them. Robyn was first to speak. "Well, aren't you going to tell me?""That you've been the world's greatest slave?"
"You can cut all that crap," said Robyn. "Just tell me what you bought me.""If you're in such a hurry, why don't you take my keys? I think I put it in the trunk."
Robyn took Gaylord's keys, and from their opposite sides each went to the rear of the car. Robyn fumbled with the keys, finally opened the trunk, and after a long, low whistle, threw her arms around Gaylord."I take everything back," said Robyn. "She's a better sport than I thought."