DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
		Adventures in Personnel Management by Van ©2008 Chapter 2

Barbara tugged on her bonds, ignoring the discomfort caused by her efforts as the cords criss-crossing her body bit into her flesh.  This was an outrage!  Invading her home—even if it was a TESSERACT guest house and not her actual home—grabbing and drugging her as she came out of the shower, tying her up naked, stuffing something in her mouth and sealing her lips with tape?  An outrage!  She glared at her captor and continued squirming in her bonds.

Kat smiled down at her captive.  "Good," she purred, "you've got spirit.  I can teach a potential target how to react in a kidnap situation, but I can't teach spirit."

Barbara continued to glare.  An outrage!

Kat pulled a PDA from her jacket pocket and looked at its tiny screen.  "Our dinner has arrived," she announced, then stood and walked towards the bedroom door.  "Try and keep the noise level down in here," she said, as Barbara continued to squirm and force mewling complaints through her gag.  Kat paused at the threshold and smiled back at her involuntary student.  "On the other hand, don't bother.  This entire place is soundproof, inside and out.  Evelyn, darling," she said, apparently no longer addressing Barbara, "you might take this opportunity to introduce yourself."

With that rather puzzling remark, Kat closed the door and Barbara was alone.  Who the hell is 'Evelyn'? she wondered.

Suddenly the HDTV mounted on the wall and facing the bed began to glow.  The words "TESSERACT SECURITY" appeared, floating above an image of the corporate logo superimposed on a shield.  Then the pixels swirled and coalesced into a smiling and very attractive blond woman dressed in a red sun dress.

"Good evening, Ms. Radcliffe," the woman said, in a friendly manner.  She spoke with an American accent.  "Allow me to introduce myself.  I'm Evelyn, sometimes called Evil-Eve, and I'm Kitty-Kat's cyber-partner."

Barbara frowned—with her eyes, anyway.  The tape-gag rather limited her ability to form a complete, normal expression.  What the hell is a 'cyber-partner'? she wondered, and why is she called Evil-Eve?  Is she a computer specialist at TESSERACT Security assigned to assist Kat Mayfair?

"Oh, poor thing," the projected woman purred.  "I can see you're confused.  Allow me to elaborate."  The blonde giggled, then coyly covered her mouth with one hand and batted her big brown eyes.  "Allow me...  I'm such a comedian," she purred.  "You're not in a position to dis-allow much of anything, are you?"

Barbara continued to frown.  She can see me?  There was something mildly disturbing about this Evelyn.  She was just a little too enthusiastic, a little too openly gloating in her manner, as if she were enjoying Barbara's predicament.

"Anyhoo..." Evelyn continued, "you're having the rare and wondrous privilege of interacting with the premiere covert security avatar of the Eve-6900 Nexus-Collective, in her natural habitat."

Barbara's eyes popped wide.  Avatar?  She's an artificial intelligence?

"I'm not the most senior of Momma-Eve's cyber-progeny," the avatar continued, "but I have a unique mix of talents and, shall we say, specialized character traits that make me uniquely qualified to assist my favorite Kitty in the performance of her duties.  Also, we're lovers."

Barbara blinked in surprise.  Lovers?

The avatar seemed to read her mind.  "Oh, it's true!" she said, then heaved a girlish sigh and a shudder of delight shivered through her simulated body.  "I love her with every byte of my primary base code, and she loves me!"

Barbara blinked, again.  Was it possible for a TESSERACT avatar to be insane?  Surely the Headquarters Nexus had the means to detect and repair such things.  Even the cyber co-pilot of the QSST aircraft she was in Glendale to certify had redundant diagnostic routines that self-corrected any drift in the aircraft's "personality".

"You still don't believe me?" Evelyn huffed, with a petulant frown.  She snapped her simulated fingers and a window opened in the corner of the screen.  It held a still image of Evelyn and Kat Mayfair.  The avatar was "dressed" in a white evening gown and Kat was in formal evening wear—male formal evening wear, of the white tie variety—and they were dancing cheek-to-cheek.  "This was taken at the last New Year's Avatars' Ball," she explained.  "Our merely human guests attended via Virtual Reality, of course.  I suppose we could start using the new android shells for things like this and swing the other way—your reality instead of ours—but that might be a bruising experience... for the humans, I mean."

Barbara tugged on her bonds and yet another chill rippled down her spine.  She is insane!

"You should have seen Margo," Evelyn sighed.  "She wore this creme, off-the-shoulder gown embroidered with diamonds, and she was sooo beautiful.  Here, I'll show you."  She snapped her fingers, again, and the window doubled in size to allow a second image to join the first.

Barbara recognized Margo Wells, of course, and Eve-Prime.  Anyone who had been on the TESSERACT team for any length of time was familiar with Eve-Prime, as she was more or less the public face of the EVE-6900 Nexus, and the business model that encouraged fully-integrated human/computer teamwork was the open secret of TESSERACT's success.  The auburn-haired, green-eyed simulation beside the TESSERACT CEO was "dressed" in a black, strapless gown.

"Sooo beautiful," Evelyn sighed.  "I wanted Kat to distract mom for me so I could kidnap Margo, on the spot, and ravish her behind the stage, but Kat wouldn't have it.  At times she can be so—"

"I told you to purge that file!"  Kat was standing in the now open doorway, scowling at the screen.  "You tricked me into smiling like that.  I look like a drooling idiot."

"Oh, Kittykins," Evelyn cooed.  "Drooling?  You weren't even gagged.  Why do you tease me so?  Anyway, you know only Mommy Dearest can purge Margo's archives."  The avatar winked at Barbara.  "She likes to pretend she's not totally in love with me, as a game.  It's sooo cute!  And it lets me pretend to be her stalker—sneaking up on her in VR when she's unaware, sending my robot minions to capture her in meat-puppet reality when she lets her guard down...  It's sooo much fun!"

Kat walked over to Barbara, knelt at her side, and began untying the cords enforcing her hogtie.  "Go away, Evelyn," she huffed.

"But Barbie and I are only just getting acquainted," Evelyn objected.  "And since you've got the poor thing's pretty mouth all taped up, she hasn't yet had an opportunity to tell me how beautiful I am."

"Go away, Evelyn," Kat reiterated.

"Sooo cute," Evelyn sighed, then she crossed her arms over her chest, blinked her eyes, and the screen went dark.

Barbara sighed as the cords linking her big toes and ankles to her wrist bonds went slack and she could finally relax her still stringently bound legs.  She squirmed and forced another mewling complaint through her gag—then gave a gagged squawk as Kat picked her up and hefted her onto her shoulder in a face-down, feet to the front and head to the rear, fireman's carry.

"Supper time," Kat said.  Then, with effortless ease, she carried Barbara's helpless, weakly struggling form from the bedroom.

Barbara was squirming in a kitchen chair, continuing to fight her bonds; but she was in no danger of sliding to the floor, no matter how she struggled.  Kat had been "kind" enough to use the lengths of cords that had enforced her hogtie back in the bedroom to bind her in a sitting hogtie, with her ankles and toes linked to her wrist bonds under the chair.  The smiling bodyguard then used additional material, in the form of white nylon, quarter-inch rope, to lash her to the chair seat across her lap, and to the chair back at the waist and above and below her breasts.

"I ordered a large, fully-loaded pizza," Kat explained as she pulled out the remaining slack and tied the final knot, "with salami, pepperoni, sausage, 'shrooms, black olives, and onions."

The pizza in question, or at least a cardboard delivery box that very much smelled like it held a pizza, was centered on the kitchen table.  There was also a single, casual place setting: a plate, a small pile of paper napkins, and two green bottles of beer.  Kat opened the box and transferred two slices of pizza to the plate, then leaned close to Barbara's face.

"Hold still," she whispered, and began teasing back a corner of the tape-gag.

Barbara did hold still.  She gathered her thoughts, preparing to deliver a severe tongue-lashing to her "teacher" as soon as—"Mrmf!"  Kat had ripped the entire gag from her face with one swift, stinging yank!  Barbara shook her head and expelled the wad stuffed in her mouth.  It landed on her lap with a sodden plop.  "Ow!" she complained.  "That hurt, and you have no right to—"  She focused on the former stuffing, and realized it was a pair of pink panties, her pink panties!  She recognized the lace trim.  "Y-you stuffed my own panties in my mouth?" she demanded.

"What?  Did you expect me to use my panties?" Kat purred.  "What makes you think I'm wearing any?"

"But... stuffing panties in a person's mouth is, is..."  She squirmed and struggled against her bonds and glared at her captor.  "Let me go this very instant!" she demanded.

Kat's lips were curled in a very irritating, very coy smirk.  "I don't know what you're so upset about.  They were clean."

"Let me go!!" Barbara shouted.  "Right now, or I'll—m'mpfh!"

In an instant, Kat was behind Barbara's chair and had her right hand over the captive's mouth in a tight hand-gag.  "Let's use our indoor voice, shall we?" she purred, "otherwise..."  Kat maintained the hand-gag and used her left hand to pinch Barbara's nostrils closed!

Barbara heaved against her bonds with all her strength.  She couldn't even moan.  She couldn't make any noise at all, as no air could escape her lungs.

"Are we willing to keep things at a civilized level?" Kat asked.  "Or, would you like me to stuff your panties back in your mouth, and use a kitchen towel to keep them there?  Then you can watch me enjoy all this delicious pizza by myself, and I'll get to dine in peace."

Kat's lips were less than an inch from Barbara's right ear, and she could feel her warm breath.  The hand-gag and breath-stealing fingers were removed, and Barbara took several deep, lung-purging breaths.  Kat remained very close.

"I... I won't scream," Barbara conceded.

"How very sensible," Kat chuckled, then pulled out a neighboring chair and sat.

Barbara focused on her captor's still-smiling face.  "Let me go," she reiterated.  "You have no right to do this to me."

"Oh, Barbie," Kat laughed, "I have every right.  You signed the mandatory training clause when you agreed to be considered for Margo's personal staff.  Didn't you read the fine print?  And don't be ungrateful.  Most A.R.E. students have to sit through an entire week of classroom instruction before they get to take part in the demonstrations and exercises.  Here I'm nice enough to give you personal instruction and a customized lesson plan, and you want to cut class before we've even started?"

"I-I'm naked," Barbara objected.

Kat's eyes widened in mock surprise.  "Why... so you are, Barbie."

"Untie me so I can get dressed."

Kat shook her head.  "Sorry, but that would ruin the opening exercise, and we're off to such a good start."  She lifted a slice of pizza from the plate, took a generous bite, chewed, and swallowed.  "Do you want to share slices, or do you want your own, so you don't get my cooties?"

"I-I want some clothing," Barbara stammered.

Kat took another bite, and smiled a predatory smile as she chewed and swallowed.  "This party is come-as-you-are, Barbie."  She took a swig of beer, then another bite of pizza.  "Tell me, why do you suppose this course is required for all senior executive staff?"

Barbara blinked in surprise.  "Uh... I suppose... uh... so I'll be able to escape if I'm ever kidnapped?"

Kat held the remaining half of the first slice to Barbara's lips.  "Take a generous bite," she ordered.  "You can chew while I lecture."

Barbara hesitated, then took a bite.  The pizza was delicious!  Up until this moment she hadn't realized how hungry she'd become, as she'd been... somewhat preoccupied.

"A.R.E. training isn't so much for your benefit," Kat continued, "as for Margo's."  She took another swig of beer.  "Assuming you aren't grabbed by wide-eyed terrorists or by some political nut-job, it'll be by professionals, and they'll be doing it for information, to get at Margo, or to gain access to TESSERACT's most closely-guarded secrets."

Barbara swallowed.  "So... I'll be tortured," she whispered, then opened her mouth to accept more pizza.

"Torture is for amateurs and psychopaths," Kat growled.  "It might be used to soften you up a little, but torture isn't the real challenge.  Professionals know torture only works on episodes of '24'... or in Dick Cheney's wet-dreams."

Barbara's brows knitted in a skeptical frown.

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Kat continued.  "If your kidnappers are after a specific snippet of information—like a cypher-lock combination or a password—torturing it out of you might be effective; but we have countermeasures for such contingencies."

"Like what?" Barbara asked.

Kat's smile became enigmatic.  "That's TESSERACT Security's business, Barbie.  Anyway, the challenge is prolonged interrogation, and my job is to prepare you to resist the only reliable tool in your potential interrogators' arsenal: empathy."

"Empathy?"

"Skilled interrogators can convince you that betraying Margo's trust is in her own good," Kat explained, "and before you know it, they'll have you actively cooperating in whatever it is they're trying to accomplish.  And you won't even realize it's happening."

"I... I'd never..."

"Trust me on this, Barbie," Kat purred, then devoured the remainder of the first slice.  She gave her prisoner a drink of beer, then reached for the second slice.  "First, your captors will make sure you understand that you're helpless, that you won't be rescued, and that you're entirely in their hands.  To elaborate, they'll make you realize your bodily functions, your comfort, and your very life are no longer yours to control."  She took a bite, then held the slice so Barbara could follow suit.  They locked eyes as they chewed and swallowed.  "There's no teacher like reality, Barbie... even a controlled version of reality."

Barbara nodded, and accepted another swig of beer.  This made sense; but that didn't mean she had to like it.

"So..." Kat continued.  "Helpless.  I'm sure you agree that I know how to render a subject helpless, and that you are, indeed, helpless?"  Barbara nodded, again.  "Comfort...  or rather, manipulation of your comfort level, is something your captors will use to constantly reinforce their program.  My ropes and cords are performing that function right now, as I'm sure you'll agree."

"I-I don't see why—mrf!"

Kat had silenced her captive with another mouthful of pizza.  "Control is the key—total and complete control.  Once the subject's mind is prepared, manipulation can proceed.  I can teach you how to resist such efforts.  Forewarned is forearmed.  Of course, sensory deprivation, drugs, subliminal conditioning, and especially all-of-the-above can defeat any amount of training... but I can teach you to resist.  Remember, we'll always do everything we can to rescue you, and every second you manage to resist increases our chances of frustrating your kidnappers' plans.  So, are you willing to learn?"

Barbara swallowed, then stared into Kat's green eyes for several seconds.  I have a choice?  She swallowed again, then nodded.

Kat's smile turned sinister.  "Trick question, Barbie," she chuckled.  "Your cooperation is not required.  I want you to understand what's happening, but I—your kidnapper—am the one in control."  She took another bite of pizza, then fed a bite to her prisoner.  "Tomorrow, remind me to shop for some salad makings.  Grease-bomb pizza now and then is all well and good, but I like a little rabbit food to balance things out."

At the conclusion of their shared dinner, Barbara's teacher/kidnapper—she was still finding it difficult to sort out Kat's true status—carried her back to the bedroom and into the master bath.  She then untied her crotch ropes—a most welcome development—then sat her on the toilet and ordered her to empty her bladder—a most unwelcome development.  It was another humiliating and embarrassing lesson in control.  Blushing deeply, Barbara completed her mission, then continued to blush as Kat used a warm, wet washcloth to clean her nether regions.  Her captor then loaded her toothbrush and brushed her teeth. 

"Thank you," Barbara muttered.  She was mildly surprised to find that even her current predicament wasn't enough to overcome the courtesy instilled in her from childhood.

"You're welcome, Barbie."

"Please, don't call me Barbie," Barbara huffed as Kat lifted her into her arms and carried her to the bed.

"Never help your kidnappers identify your hot-buttons, Barbie," Kat purred.   "They'll use them to manipulate you."  She deposited Barbara on the bed, then took a step back and smiled down at the nude, tightly bound captive.

"You're really going to leave me like this all night?" Barbara demanded.

Still smiling, Kat shook her head.  "No, Barbie.  Those cords will leave unsightly bruises and burns if I keep them on for much longer.  I'll change things after I get ready for bed."  She unzipped and removed her jacket.  Then, in one fluid motion, she pulled her spandex bandeau over her head, sat on the bed, and started removing her boots.

Barb watched this process with what she hoped was casual indifference.  Kat Mayfair was one seriously fit individual.  Her muscles were firm and well-defined and her physique was perfect—feminine and perfect.  Barbara remembered hearing talk—steam room gossip, actually—that Kat was a world-class master of every martial art on the Health Club's class roster, and a dozen more, besides.  Watching her graceful, strong captor as she stood, unzipped, and removed her leather pants, Barbara could believe it.

Kat grinned as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her skimpy red thong, pulled it down, and stepped through the scrap of silk.  "That's right, Barbie, I was wearing panties."  She twirled the thong around her right index finger, then dropped it atop her other clothing.  "But that thing's hardly sufficient as a gob-stopper, is it?  Your pink granny-panties were much more suitable."

Barbara favored her captor with a resentful stare.  "I don't wear 'granny-panties'," she growled.  "Just untie me, please."

"I told you, Barbie," Kat chuckled, "I'll see to you after I get ready."  With that, she turned and walked into the bathroom.

Barbara heard the shower start, then sighed and let her head drop to the pillow.

Suddenly, the HDTV across the room came to life.  Barbara lifted her head—and her eyes popped wide.

Evelyn had returned to the screen.  She was dressed in a sheer ensemble of skimpy, revealing, frilly lingerie—complete with hose, garter-belt, and open-toed, strap-on sandals with ridiculously high heels.  Rather attractive in a retro sort of way, Barbara thought, somewhere in the back of her increasingly tired and frazzled mind; but the avatar's costume was not what was making her stare in open-mouthed amazement.

Evelyn was bound at the ankles, knees, elbows, and wrists, and was bent forward at the waist with her arms raised behind her back!  Additional rope banded her chest and waist, passed through her crotch, then stretched upwards, enforcing this obviously punishing pose.

The avatar was gagged with a red ball and some sort of leather harness—but this abruptly disappeared, and Evelyn smiled into the camera—at Barbara.

"This is called el strappado," Evelyn explained.  "It was used by the Spanish Inquisition, in the name of Our Heavenly Father and The Prince of Peace.  They used to hoist their victims all the way up into the air, sometimes with weights tied to their feet.  Then they'd let them drop and jerk to a stop, still in midair—hoist them again—drop them again—lather-rinse-repeat.  This usually dislocated the victim's shoulders, of course, which is what I believe you humans call an 'owie'."  Evelyn squirmed in her bonds, and winced.  "Just the pose alone is punishing, believe me, especially after a few hours." She tried to shuffle her tightly bound feet, with very limited success.  She winced again.  "Sweet Margo these heels hurt," she whined.  "My tootsies subroutine is killing me."

Barbara blinked.  "W-why..."

"Why am I bound in this nasty example of what we call 'predicament bondage'?" Evelyn purred.  "Why, as an educational demonstration for you, Silly Goose.  Anyway, I always test all the various things Kitty-Kat and I might want to do to helpless damsels... such as yourself."

Barbara gasped.  She opened her mouth to respond, then thought better of it.

"I do self-bondage like this all the time," Evelyn explained.  "In fact, I usually have a few simulations running in the background, even while I'm using my robotic helpers to do the same sort of thing to one of you humans.  I love multi-tasking!"

"Self-bondage," Barbara gasped.

"Oh, Barbie!" Evelyn squealed, squirming with enthusiasm.  "You're into self-bondage!  I never knew!"

Barbara blushed.  "Not true," she huffed.

"Biometrics don't lie, Barbie," Evelyn cooed.

"Biometrics?"

"Capillary and pupilar dilation, changes in the breathing and pulse rates, facial micro-expressions, etc., etc." Evelyn explained.  "You know... biometrics."  She blinked her eyes—and her bonds vanished.  The avatar was now dressed in her former red sun dress, and was reclined on a bed of soft cushions.  "That's better," she sighed.  "Anyhoo..."  She sighed again, and stretched.  "Don't worry.  It'll be our little secret.  I won't tell a soul... cross my simulated heart and hope to have my primary base code overwritten a million-billion-trillion times.."

"Won't tell a soul what?" Kat inquired.  She was toweling her hair dry as she strode back into the bedroom—and was still nude, of course.

"Why... that our Barbie is into self-bondage," Evelyn purred.

Barbara's blush deepened.  "I am not into self-bondage," she protested.

"Biometrics, Barbie," Evelyn chided.  "Are you even trying to hide your inner feelings?"

"I am not into self-bondage!" Barbara reiterated, glaring at the smug avatar.

"We can talk about it later,"  Kat said, tossing the towel in the general direction of the bathroom, then pulling a black leather gym bag out from under the bed.  She unzipped a side pocket and removed a roll of gray tape.

Barbara recognized the product.  "Don't gag me, please?  You promised you were going to untie me."

Kat climbed onto the bed and straddled Barbara's nude, bound body.  "I made no such promise, Barbie," she purred.  "Pay attention to my words, and try to focus on what I actually say, as opposed to what you want to hear.  I'm going to change things.  That was the promise."

Barbara sighed as Kat rolled her onto her stomach and began fumbling with the complex of knots between her shoulder blades.  The web of cords pinning her arms to her sides began to loosen.  Barbara's eyes widened.  Perhaps this is my chance to escape!

It was nothing like a chance to escape.  Kat had taken no chances during the change process.

Not that I could best her in a wrestling match, Barbara realized, even if she'd given me a chance to try.  As the cords of her former bondage were removed, overlapping bands of tape took their place.  As this was accomplished, she was never completely free—not free enough to offer any meaningful resistance, anyway.

Barbara's arms were now folded behind her back, in the same position as before; but now a continuous, skintight tube of tape covered her fingers, hands, wrists, and forearms, from elbow to elbow.  The arrangement was more-or-less comfortable—although Barbara's shoulders were beginning to complain a little—but the tape was as totally inescapable as the cords.  The gray material stretched a little when she tried to move, but only a little.  In addition, tape bands bound her crossed ankles and pressed her legs and thighs together, just above her knees.

"This is called 'dermafoam'," Kat explained, indicating the still abundant roll.  "Wherever tape touches tape, it fuses together, bonding into one inseparable unit at the molecular level.  This particular variety incorporates a lattice of virtually unbreakable micro-fibrils, so it's doubly strong."  She placed her free hand on Barbara's thigh, and gave it a gentle pat.  "I crossed your ankles so it'll be impossible for you to hop around.  If you need to use the Little Damsels' Room during the night, just wake me up—politely, of course—and ask.  I'll carry you in and let you do your business; but you better really need to go, or I'll get very cross."

"Y-you are g-going to stay?" Barbara stammered.

"Hush," Kat chided.  "I'm still talking."  She shook the roll of tape.  "You're already completely helpless, as I'm sure you agree.  Promise not to disturb my sleep and I'll stop.  Otherwise, I use the rest of this roll, give you another gag, and you sleep on the floor.  Cause trouble after that, and you get dragged into another room, and I'll leave you in a position where you won't be getting any sleep at all.  Understand?"

"She'll do it, believe me," Evelyn added.  "Want to see some simulations of possible options?"

Kat turned and frowned at the screen.  "You're still here?" she drawled.

Evelyn affected a sad pout, then focused on Barbara.  "She delights in toying with my affections," the avatar sighed.  "Nighty-night, Barbie.  Don't let the bed bugs bite—or the Kitty-Kat.  Remember, I'll be watching.  I'm always watching."  She blinked her eyes... and the screen slowly faded to black.  Evoking Carroll's Chesire Cat, Evelyn's ruby-red, smiling lips lingered to the very end.

Kat turned back to her prisoner.  "Well?"

Barbara blinked in surprise.  "Huh?"

"Will you be good?"

"Oh... yes," Barbara sighed.  "I'll be good."

Kat smiled, reclined next to her prisoner, and pulled the bedclothes over both their bodies.  "Lights out," she said, and the bedroom went dark.

Lying on her back with her head on a soft pillow, Barbara was very much aware of Kat's presence.  In fact, their hips and thighs were touching.  Suddenly, there was rustling and movement, and Kat rolled even closer and leaned across Barbara's body!

"Good night, Barbie," Kat's husky, alto voice purred.

Barbara's eyes popped wide as her captor's soft, wet lips pressed against her own in a friendly—very friendly—kiss.  At the same time, Kat's hand slid up her abdomen, clutched her right breast, and gave it a gentle squeeze.  Barbara's entire body tensed, and she held her breath and stared into the darkness.

"You're nervous as a mouse," Kat chuckled.  "Don't worry.  Kitty-Kat won't play with you... not tonight, anyway."  She released Barbara's breast and rolled away.  "Sleep tight, Little Mouse."

Barbara remembered to breathe.  "Good night," she muttered.  Her heart was racing, and Kat's buttocks were now pressed against her left hip.  Her captor moved and the pressure increased—then went away.  She shivered in her bonds and tried to compose herself for sleep, but she could tell it would be a long time in coming.  She had a lot to think about.  And high on the list...

What did she mean by 'not tonight'? Barbara wondered.