"Where are you going on your next vacation block?" asked the slick announcer voice.  The screen of the tele-vid flashed gigantic block letters tipping the answer to those who hadn't yet seen the commercial.

"That's right, the Fantasy Village Complex has your dream vacation block!  Two hundred and sixty-five acres of fantastic recreations of your favorite psycho-sexual fantasies, all at your convenience!  You can visit our Adulteryland and for a day or a week carry on a clandestine affair behind the back of your significant other!  Or perhaps Gayworld, where you can exercise your sexual preference without the fear of rejection or incapacitating disease!  There's Sado-Masoworld, where you get as wild as you like and it's all perfectly safe!  Or perhaps Bondageland, where you are either the captive or the captor!  It's your choice!  Just contact your travel coordinator now!  You'll be amazed at just how real it will all seem!"

The commercial break ended and "Gwendoline" resumed.  Saralynn James and Bridgitte Faviore, as Gwendoline and U-89, were in an abandoned shack, each stringently bound to posts and gagged.  Saralynn struggled without success, but it looked like Bridgitte might be able to slip out of her ropes before the next commercial break and the return of the Countess.

"Gwendoline" was a ratings favorite and Garrett's favorite show, but his attention was on something else.  The brochure that had been laying underneath his 2049 edition of the Bondage Accessories Catalog disc was now in his hand.  He opened the brochure, keeping his thumb on the Bondageland key.  Up popped a mini-hologram prerecorded with a tour of the facilities.  After the tape concluded, the code number for the travel coordinator displayed along with a list of fees.  Garrett closed the brochure and stared at the tele-vid without really seeing it.  He was thinking about being in Bondageland in a few days.

The program disappeared again and a 2049 Morobi hover car appeared, gleaming in a spotlight.  An impossibly beautiful Japanese woman, totally nude, beamed next to the car as if she felt blessed just to be in its vicinity.

---

Marilynda sat in the counselor's room of Bondageland, waiting for the fantasy coordinator to get her personal scenario programmed into the system.  As she waited, she leafed through a novel disc of the latest Betty Page adventure.  In this one, Betty was up against someone seizing the Klaw models in order to put him out of business and it was up to her to stop him.  Betty always got tied up a few times in the novels and Marilynda just couldn't resist them.  As she read, she absently smoothed her Klingex tights over her shapely thigh and tugged at her low-cut copper-colored Mettalon tunic that clung to the torso, then flared out into a short skirt at the waist.

Marilynda identified with Betty Page.  She had seen holograms of old photos of the woman and, though she wore her black hair longer and without bangs, there was a resemblance in both face and figure.  She even wondered if there was a family connection, but a computer genealogical survey had come back negative.  Too, she shared Betty's devotion to bondage.  It always astounded her when she read the social evolution discs and saw that bondage was at one time considered unacceptable.  Thank Sirius she didn't live in a backward time such as that.  The only problem today was the product promotion board using bondage to sell soap and personal com-units on tele-vid commercials.  That cheapened it for her.

A pretty Latino woman in a vibrant green hugger-knit suit motioned Marilynda over to her desk.  She smiled at Marilynda and the smile seemed genuine, something rare in this super-conductor age.  Marilynda felt a little more relaxed.

"Now, before we get into your individual scenario, I just want to outline how the system functions," she told Marilynda.  "Except for yourself, all participants involved in your scenario will be androids.  These androids are fully programed with the Three Primary Directives to insure patron safety and are designed to enact your program with as much realism and accuracy as you can provide.  We will provide a catalog of features and accessories to let you pick the look of your android participants.

"Really?" Marilynda asked, impressed.  "That's great.  But what if I don't have anything specific in mind as far as looks?"

"Our techs can construct a generic handsome man or beautiful woman if you have no preferences.  They are also adept at constructing other character types.

"There will be a prearranged signal we will need to coordinate with you should you wish to terminate a particular sequence in the scenario.  This way, if you wish to end it, should it not meet your satisfaction or go too far, you can.  We can advise you on the best signals should you not have a workable favorite."

"All right," nodded Marilynda.  They were certainly thorough.

"Additionally, we will be able to incorporate other sexual preferences into your scenario if you prefer to mix genres.  There will be an additional fee, however, if the computer has to cross reference with the computers from the other fantasy complexes in order to present your scenario as desired."

"I don't think that's necessary,· Marilynda replied, grinning awkwardly.  "I'm not one of those android freaks."

"Of course not," the counselor smiled, trying to reassure her.  "I'm just advising you of your choice menu.  Our androids are all anatomically correct and completely functional in all areas.  By telling you all of this in advance, you're not surprised with the extra charges to your compu-dollar account should you decide, in the heat of the moment, to alter your scenario."

"Oh," Marilynda shifted uncomfortably.

"Now, if there are no questions, I'll need your signature on this waiver," the counselor said, handing her a disc display tablet and a light stylus.  "This form states that you waive all claims into compto-claims court should you be dissatisfied."

"So if I don't like it, I'm stuck?"

"Unless we deviate from your programmed scenario in any way.  We can only be as good as the information you give us for your scenario, but some people don't comprehend that.  Therefore, we have to protect ourselves against those people who expect us to have telepathic technology on premises."

---

"I understand completely, Garret had heard himself say.  He hoped he had been right in signing.  This place wasn't cheap, and some of the awards compto-court gave out were very appealing.  But he would think of those things only if he didn't have a good time.  For years he had gorged himself on vid and holographic presentations of beautiful women bound and gagged in all sorts of ways.  He had even bound a few real women; with his slick black hair, penetrating eyes and classically chiselled features and body, he was attractive to women.

But all of these women had bought into the commercialized, product promo board vision of bondage.  They used it as a come-on to other stuff or as foreplay.  They didn't love it for the act itself.  It didn't mean anything to them.  He could tell by the way they directed him and made demands of him as he tied them, "Not too tight, use the old scarves, don't muss my gloss with the gag," as if they were reading a recipe from some woman's magazine.  With those kind it was lock out the vid-o-phone after the first time so they couldn't pester him.

Arriving at the reserved area for his scenario, Garrett took in a deep breath and let it go slowly.  This was it.  If this was the answer to his dreams, it would be worth it.  If it wasn't, or if he just had a nice time, he would file it and keep looking for the mysterious "her". Garrett picked up a hand laser, stirred up his courage and suppressed his anticipation, and pressed the button to activate the sequence.

The door lock seemed to be severed with the laser.  To gain entry, he used the old-time fiction approach, he kicked the door open.  Leaping through the doorway, laser at the ready, Garrett quickly surveyed the surroundings.

The room was a seedy residence dwelling.  Crouched up against a wall was as beautiful a woman as he had ever seen.  She was black with a deep, thick mane of black hair cascading down her back.  Her features were definitely African, but elegant, particularly her piercing copper eyes.  She was a buxom lass, feminine to the last curve, and skin as soft as silk.

Her wrists were tied behind her back and her arms cinched to her torso at the elbow.  Plastic flexi-cord encircled her knees and ankles as well and she had a synthi-silk scarf pulled between her teeth.  She wore the traditional Kenyan clothing - white short-sleeved leotard with green waist sash, white calf-length boots with high heels, and a green headband.  All Kenyans wore a form of this since the revolution of 2045.  Her name was Lalla Shimbusu.  She was the daughter of the ruling military governor, was extremely political and hated all foreigners, particularly Americans.

Guarding her were two tough-looking Chinese.  They had abducted Lalla from the United Nations building to use as trade bait to free some of their prisoners in Kenya.  Chinese weren't popular in Kenya since they had backed the ruling faction during the revolution.  These Chinese were mean-looking.  They gave the impression that they would die or kill at a moment's notice in order to further the struggle against Kenya.

Garrett gave them the former choice.  Lalla tried to cry out behind the gag.  Each one of the guards pulled a black market French laser pistol from under his tunic and leveled it at Garrett.  But Garrett was already firing, striking one of the guards dead center in the chest.  He crumpled as his partner fired in Garrett's direction.  However, Garrett had dodged to one side automatically and easily took the other out.

Since this was a simulation, there was no danger.  The lasers emitted a non-lethal beam of light.  The android guards were programmed to fall if struck and to miss unless Garrett had asked to be hit.  He knew all of this in the back of his mind, but suppressed it in order to enjoy the show.

Lalla was still struggling with the flexi-cord, which was far stronger than the old-fashioned fiber ropes, when Garrett approached.  She shrunk back from him as he bent down to her.  Garrett's eyes drank her in.  She was as beautiful as any fantasy woman he had ever dreamed up, of any color, now that he saw her actually there.  The bindings only made her that much more beautiful.  He untied the scarf in her mouth.  If he expected thanks, what he got was more in keeping with Lalla's character program.

"Well?" she demanded arrogantly in the cultured British tones native to Kenya.  "What are you staring at?  Are you going to take me as those Asian barbarians wished to do?"

"Nobody's going to touch you," Garrett replied calmly, his white skin whiter against her dark African complexion as he stroked her shoulder.  "Maybe you didn't notice, but I'm liberating you."

"And am I supposed to fall at your feet like a good colonial slave, oh great white master?" she snapped back.  "Untie me and I will take care of my own liberation!"

"I need your help first,· he said.  "There are Americans in...

"Me, help an American greedy merchant pig like you!" she spat.  "I would sooner mnnngh!" Garrett cut off the last part by re-gagging her.  Lalla mumbled something unintelligible through the cloth.  Her eyes were blazing fury above the gag.

"There are Americans captive in your country, too," Garrett finished.  "You're going to help me free them, whether you want to or not.  Guessing she'd probably rather not, Garrett decided to keep her tied.  He gave her writhing, sensual form the once over.  Gee, wouldn't that be just too bad.

---

Marilynda reclined by the pool of her fantasy mansion.  She wore the latest import silver ply-urex bikini, expensive European sandals and sunglasses, and an actual cotton beach jacket.  If the cotton was real, it alone was worth as much as her trip.  Her character was an idle heiress and she basked in it.

She pretended not to notice the handsome, muscular, exotically tanned blonde pool worker nearby.  She couldn't help sneaking a peek at him behind her sunglasses.  He wore form-fitting white coveralls and did he have a form to fit.  Inside she was tingling with anticipation.

"Ma'am," the Adonis look-alike said to her.  "We've got a new line of scents for the pool.  If you'd like, we can go out to the van and you can select one.  You're probably tired of jasmine by now."

"New scents?" Marilynda said, trying to sound bored.  "How wonderful.  I think I can spare a few moments."

Marilynda eased her shapely, long-limbed body out of the recliner and followed the pool worker out to his van.  She tried to keep from anticipating the storyline, but she couldn't resist a jab to test the android's reactions.

"It's so secluded out here behind the house," she joked, "it would be a perfect spot for a kidnapping"

"I suppose it would, ma'am," he replied without revealing his intentions, "you being so rich and beautiful...  Very good.

"Thank you," Marilynda smiled, batting her eyes flirtatiously.

Suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth from behind.  In spite of knowing the storyline, Marilynda was taken by surprise.  The pool worker grabbed her around the legs and she was hauled into the hovering van.

The hand stayed over her mouth, keeping Marilynda from crying out.  Other hands went to work on her, wrestling her arms behind her and binding them at the wrist and elbow with flexi-cord.  Her legs were tied at the knee and tied off in a hogtie.  As one abductor tied her, the other plastered wide black electrician's tape over her mouth and eyes, gagging and blindfolding her.

When she was secured, her abductors moved off, leaving her alone in the back of the van.  It was a good thing Marilynda knew this was a fantasy simulation or she would have been terrified.  It was real enough, though, and her heart beat with excitement as she tested the give of the cord.  She could hear a whine nearby, probably the super-conductor propulsion of the van.  They were whisking her off to their secret hideout and, lying near-naked on the cold bed of the van, Marilynda could do nothing to stop them.  It was a delightful, thrilling experience.

---

Travel from place to place in the complex was simulated by hologram.  It may have been the room next door to the one he left, but it felt like miles away to Garrett.  He carried the bound and writhing Lalla into the room and gently laid her down on a bed.  She continued to fume impotently and fight the inescapable grip of the flexi-cord.

Garrett pulled up a chair next to Lalla and untied her gag, waiting for a torrent of abuse.  She didn't disappoint.

"You vile swine!" she bellowed.  "How dare you keep me tied up!  If we were in Kenya, I would have you tortured!"

"Well, we're not in Kenya," Garrett said, "and right now you're a lot better off than my friends, particularly considering you probably weren't here to open trade negotiations when you were snatched."

"I was here to strike a blow against the oppressors of the masses!" Lalla said proudly.  "I do not hide it!"

"And probably liberate a few Americans from the stress of living, too." She stared defiantly.  "That's not important now.  I have friends in Kenya and you're going to get them out for me."

"Why should I help you?" asked Lalla, as much as a curse as a question.  "You're no better than those Chinese barbarians!"

"Because you're smarter than a lot of people give you credit for," Garrett said, stroking her hair gently.  "You know deep down Kenya's on a one-way ticket to Hell unless things change.  The person to change things is you.  You're smart.  You're persuasive.  You're charismatic.  You just follow the ruling party's dogma too blindly to notice."

"And if I do help you?"

"I get those suffering Americans out.  You take your first step down the path to power and responsibility - and you go free.  But you'll help me whether you choose to or not.  I don't need your cooperation.  I'd just like it."

"I see," she said, thoughtful for the first time since he'd seen her.  "Untie me and we'll talk more."

"Sorry.  You still have too many wild ideas in your head.  I'm keeping you tied for your own protection."

"Lying jackal!" roared Lalla.  In went the gag again, cutting off more curses.  She was an impressive package of femininity, but what a mouth!  He'd just have to watch her struggle until she calmed down.  Tough assignment.

---

The tape was carefully peeled from over her eyes.  Marilynda blinked and looked around.  She was in an old-fashioned automobile garage.  It had made a superficial conversion to super-conductor technology, but not much of one.  Hence, it was dark, greasy, dimly lit, cluttered with ancient parts, and deserted.  She shivered at the fantastic detail.  It really was easy to lose one's self in the fantasy.

Marilynda was sitting on a wood grain poly-urethane chair, still bound, but released from the hogtie.  A flexi-cord passed before her eyes from behind and wound around her torso, over and under her chest.  When it pulled tight, she was anchored to the chair.  It was then the other kidnapper passed into view.  He knelt down before her to tie her ankles to the chair leg.  Marilynda examined him as he bound her.  He was darkly handsome, tall and wiry.  His body was rock-solid and pleasing to the eye, straining against his white coveralls.  His eyes and tousled black hair suggested Polynesian ancestry.  They were an interesting pair: Both suggesting menace while at the same time being enticingly handsome.

The gag stifled her attempt to speak, but it caught the man's attention.  He signaled his partner over.

"She wants to talk," he grinned callously.

"Too bad we don't want to listen,  the blond chuckled.  She could feel them staring down at her.  Clothed in only her small bikini and her short jacket, she felt quite exposed and vulnerable.  Even though she knew they were androids, Marilynda looked away reflexively and squirmed in her bonds.

"She's probably wondering what happened."

"You haven't figured it out yet?" the blonde asked, coming very close to her.  "You've been kidnapped, darling.  You be a good girl and if your accountants come across, then nobody gets hurt."  He stroked her under her chin, then gripped it tightly.  "Give us trouble and you'll be sorry."

They both turned their backs on her, the blonde one chuckling cruelly.  They were confident in their power over her and she had to admit they had reason to be.  She wriggled in the grip of the cord, trying to slip out of the coils.  It was useless.  She was tied very tight, thrillingly tight.  Her situation would stay that way until someone released her.

Her heart actually pounded when the blonde abductor pawed her.  And she could see the other one wanted to do the same.  She felt so wonderfully immoral garbed only in a bikini and fettered in the grip of two amoral males.  Throwing discretion to the wind, she squirmed and struggled in the tight grip of her bonds.  It was exciting and she flowed with the excitement.

---

Lalla had long since stopped cursing and fighting.  She had lapsed into a contemplative state.  Garrett wondered what she was thinking about, particularly as she was staring at him.  He had removed the gag again, but she said nothing.  He sensed she was puzzled by him rather than enraged.  Maybe he had gotten through just a little.

Roused out of his reverie by a loud noise behind him, Garrett jumped out of his chair.  Lalla screamed.  He whirled, laser up and ready to fire, but a foot came out of nowhere and knocked it away.  Close behind, three burly Chinese tackled Garrett.  The pile tumbled to the floor.  Though Garrett struggled valiantly, the odds were against him and he was quickly subdued.

The intruders forced his arms behind him and tightly bound them there.  More flexi-cord bit into his upper arms and around his rippling chest, securing his arms to his body.  Then they tied his legs at the knee and ankle.  He was caught and he knew it.

"We know who she is," the leader of the Chinese agents said, standing over him.  "Who are you?"

"Check the vid-o-phone directory," Garrett hissed.

"We shall.  Perhaps you are the man who killed two of our agents when Madam Shimbusu disappeared from our custody?"

"If I am, do I get a prize?"

"Since you will not answer properly, you will not need to speak at all," the leader snarled.  A cloth was tied in Garrett's mouth similar to the gag that was back in Lalla's mouth.

"Shall we kill him, sir?" another agent asked.

"Not until we learn his identity.  He may have as much use as Madam Shimbusu.  Shao will stay here and guard the prisoners.  Li will stand outside the door.  I will contact our central command for further orders and information on our American 'guest'."

Garrett looked up to Lalla, still bound on the bed.  She was grinning at him through the gag in cynical triumph.

"Sir," Li asked.  "Is it true what the American press says?  Our people in Kenya have been executed?"

"I hope not, Li," the leader replied, then glanced at Lalla, "For Madam Shimbusu's sake as will as theirs."

Garrett glanced back at Lalla.  She was no longer grinning.

---

How long had Marilynda been struggling?  It felt like forever.  Her limbs were numbing in places, aching in others.  Her adrenal rush had spent itself and she sat limply in the chair, only making token efforts to free herself.  Time seemed to distort, though.  It could have been just minutes since her abduction and she wouldn't have realized.

Her body ached, but it was a good ache, much like the toll sports took on one's body.  She was going to hurt the next morning, but right now she didn't care.  Marilynda was awash in the restriction of her bondage and the freedom it gave her.  The tighter she was tied, the more she could writhe and squirm with abandon, jettisoning her inhibitions and social responsibilities that were required of "ladies".

The Polynesian wandered over to her.  Marilynda looked up to him, mewling a slight query through her gag.  She glanced over to the blonde.  He was absorbed in his card game and ignored them.  She returned to the Polynesian.  He was exquisitely handsome.  The techs had done their job well with both of them.  He was so very exotic.  If only she knew his name.  If only she weren't gagged.

If only he was real.

"You hungry?" he asked, not as superior as before.  She nodded meekly, intrigued at this change in disposition.

He went into the garage office and came out with a simple sandwich.

"What you doing?" growled the blonde.

"Feeding her, okay?" he snarled back.

"Suuuuure" Blondie mocked.  He kept his concentration on his cards.

"Is this all right?" the Polynesian asked warily.  She nodded.  Calling him "the Polynesian" wouldn't do.  For lack of a real name, she would call him "John".

John reached over and peeled the tape away from her mouth cautiously, ready to put it back should she try to scream.  She didn't.  He lifted the sandwich up to her mouth and she took a dainty bite.  She wasn't really that hungry.  Her stomach was flip-flopping too much.  But she didn't want to discourage him.

"Thank you," she peeped.  What had happened to her voice?

"You're really pretty," he said, seemingly bewitched by her doe-like eyes and vulnerability.

"Thanks," whispered Marilynda, embarrassed.

"A guy like me probably wouldn't have a chance with a rich lady like you, though," John said glumly.

Marilynda took another bite.  It was hard to swallow.  "Depends on the guy," she said.  "A kidnapper wouldn't," she looked up, pleading with her eyes, "but a gentle, sweet man would."

"Sure," John nodded suspiciously.

"He would!" persisted Marilynda, but the tape cut off further appeals.  She watched him walk away.  Lord, they were realistic.

---

Shao was lightly snoozing in his chair.  Garrett strained against the grip of the cord, knowing it wouldn't give.  The sensation wasn't unpleasant to him.  Though he usually preferred to do the tying, Garrett had been tied before, usually at the request of some shy young lady trying bondage for the first time.  He had inserted into the program on a whim and it was a nice change of pace for him.  The bindings were tight and gave him a wonderful sense of sustained tension.  He recalled reading the effect was called a "sustained erection."  That was accurate.

Hearing a noise behind him, Garrett rolled himself over to face the source.  Lalla was cautiously easing herself off of the bed.  It was a slow and seductive process, due to her bonds.  Garrett stared mesmerized.  She reached the edge of the bed and hovered, unsure as to how to proceed.  She leaned forward some, trying to get to the floor silently, but lost her balance and slid down the side of the bed onto her backside.  She grimaced and Garrett shot a glance at Shao.  The guard wasn't disturbed.

Slowly, agonizingly quiet, Lalla inched her way over to the bound, prostrate Garrett.  All the while, he continued to glance from her to Shao, waiting at any moment for the guard to wake up.  It had to be rough on the shapely Lalla, but she didn't allow herself more than a cursory grimace now and then.  He admired that.

When she reached him, she gestured with her head.  Garrett pretended he couldn't understand.  Her delightfully blazing eyes flared again in frustration and she squirmed around so her hands were visible.  She twirled her finger, motioning for him to turn around.

When he did so, he felt stiletto fingers groping along his arms until they reached his bound wrists.  Like a spider, they danced along the knots, lightly touching him as they fiddled with the knots.  Garrett could hear her short, soft grunts of exertion as she strained to free him.  She was awkward at the process, but she was also determined and tireless.  Once he tried to move away so he could look at her and she latched onto his arm like an eagle gripping prey until he stopped moving.  Lalla was determined to free him, no matter what she or he would have to endure.

Finally the knots parted and Garrett found his hands free.  Shao continued to sleep as he silently freed himself.  Turning back to Lalla, he gripped her by the shoulders and propped her up against the wall, motioning for her to be quiet.  Garrett silently circled behind the sleeping guard, picking up a metal statuette on a nearby table with enough heft to it to do the job he had in mind.  The statuette came down hard on Shao's head and he slumped to the floor loudly.

Instantly Garrett shot over to the door, just as Li entered.  As a distraction, Lalla let out a gurgled scream through her gag, drawing the agent's attention for the second it took Garrett to dispatch him.

The statuette discarded, Garrett knelt down next to Lalla.  She drew herself up to him and cooed as he removed the gag.

"You're kind of the last person I expected to be helping me," Garrett said.  Lalla looked at him intently and seemed slightly embarrassed by her actions.  "I'm grateful for the help, but why?"

"Self-preservation," she answered guardedly.  "I like my chances for survival better with you than with them.  And you did help me earlier."  She turned away sheepishly.  "Perhaps I have found some truth in what you've said to me, as well.  Perhaps I have been," pride made her pause, "wrong about some things in my life.  Blinded.  I will help you with your friends in my country."  She seemed to be searching for strength, then magically found some.  "Perhaps we can help one another in the future," she said, turning to him.  "The struggle can be intimidating at times; lonely, too."

"Maybe we can," he answered reassuringly.  Garrett reached for her wrist ropes to untie her, but she pulled them away.

"Don't untie me," she smiled flirtatiously, her eyes hooded.  "You don't know what kind of wild ideas I might still have."

Garrett kissed her, then hoisted her up in his arms and carried her out of the room to find safety somewhere else."

---

John continued to stare at her from the safety of the garage office.  Marilynda stared back at him, trying to draw him back to her.  She couldn't read his thoughts, but could sense his conflict.  Blondie was gone for the moment, which was good.  He could only complicate things.

He was scared of her, she thought, even though she was the one tied up.  She was a temptation to him, the temptation to go straight, to betray his partner and believe that it was possible to be accepted by someone other than one's own social strata.  John stared at her, stared at the subtle curve of her bare leg and her hip, the firmness of her breasts, the silken fall of her jet black hair and those eyes.  They were eyes that shouted to him of her pain, her unease at confinement, her mistrust of his partner and her belief in him.  How defenseless she looked; and yet, he was the one on the defensive.

He was about to go to her, to remove the tape again and hear her melodious voice, perhaps to believe the words she spoke, when his partner burst in with angry loudness.

"That's it!" he bellowed.  "Those jerks think I'm kidding around?  Well, I'll just show 'em how much I'm kidding around!"

"What happened?" John asked.  Marilynda tensed.

"They wouldn't pay up, that's what happened!" Blondie snarled.  "They wouldn't pay up!" He whirled on Marilynda viciously.  "Guess your billions mean more to them than you do, honey!  So guess what that means?  You're dead, honey!  Say your prayers!  You're one dead she-male!"

Marilynda drew a quick, loud breath through her nose, her eyes growing wide as saucers.  She let out a few muffled pleas to keep the act up, which wasn't hard to do.  These androids were so very, very convincing.

"Come on," John gasped, pulling his partner around to face him.  "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you understand how this worked when you got into it, Johnny?" Blondie snapped.  So his name was John.  "We snatch her.  We threaten to kill her if they don't pay up.  They pay up to get her back.  If they don't pay ...  is this beginning to get through?"

"You can't kill her," John said in a low voice.

"Why not?" Blondie replied, rising to the challenge.  "Who's going to stop me?"

Suddenly he unleashed a vicious punch that sent John to the floor.  Marilynda flinched at the savagery of the blow.

"Bad move, Johnny."  Blondie leaned down mockingly.

He turned to Marilynda with blood in his eye and her breath caught in her throat.  But he only took one step, then crashed face first to the concrete floor as an arm swipe from John tripped him.  Instantly John was on him, delivering blow after blow until his partner lay limp and unconscious.  John pulled himself to his feet and staggered behind Marilynda.  Immediately, she felt the constricting bondage loosen around her hands and arms.

"You can do the rest yourself," John panted.  "He'll be out a while.  I - I gotta get outta here!"

"John, wait!" cried Marilynda, jerking the gag from her mouth.  "I meant what I said earlier!  Believe me, you qualify!"

"Yeah, as a kidnapper.  Honey, I go to prison if I stay."

"For what?"

"Kidnapping!"

"What kidnapping?" she asked.  John stared at her incredulously.  Then a slight smile colored his features.

"I couldn't live with myself if I put you away.  You proved what kind of guy you are just now.  As far as anyone's concerned, I was out with a very handsome, very nice guy."

"What about Jeremy?" John asked.  "He's not nice and he's not going to forget."

Marilynda smiled devilishly.  "Is he wanted for anything?"

"One or two things.  Why?"

"We can turn him in before we leave.  I don't think I'll lose any sleep over him being in prison.  I might even sleep better."

John smiled broadly and it suggested sunrise over the islands.  He lifted Marilynda up effortlessly from the chair and crushed her to him tight.  Arm in arm they walked out of the garage.

"You know, you have a definite talent for tying things," she whispered.

"You liked that?" he grinned.

"Kinda," she giggled.

---

Marilynda exited the Bondageland Complex with a wistful sigh poised on her lips.  It had been fun.  It had been all she had asked for come to life.  Yet there was something missing.

As she walked down the concourse lost in thought, she bumped into someone.  "Excuse me," she gasped.

"I wasn't looking where I was going," Garrett replied with a smile.  "Sorry."

"Uh, you're real, right?"

"Yeah," he smirked.  "It's hard for me to tell sometimes, too."  He thought a moment, looking Marilynda over, then asked, "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"I guess," she shrugged.  "How about you?"

"I guess," he mimicked.

"Something was missing, right?"

"Reality.  They did their best, but I still knew what was coming too many times.  Maybe I expected too much."

"Yeah," Marilynda nodded.

"And the androids," he continued.  "They look the part, they act the part, but the minute you touch them and feel no body heat, the illusion is gone."

"I know," Marilynda agreed.  "It's like touching a sponge.  I don't know what android freaks see in it!"

Marilynda took a second to re-examine Garrett critically.

"May I look at your scenario?" she asked.

"I guess so."

Marilynda quickly scanned it.

"Oh, this is wicked!" she squealed with delight.  "I wish I'd have thought of this!"

Garrett beamed.

"My name's Garrett," he offered.

"Marilynda," she reciprocated.

"You know," he began and she let him curl his arm around her waist, "As good as androids are, they just can't replace humans for some things."

"My sentiments exactly," smirked Marilynda.

Off they walked, arm in arm.  It had been compu-dollars well spent after all.

"You know," Garrett said suddenly, "You remind me of someone."

Marilynda giggled.

The End