_
			DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
			Jamie's Story — by Van Chapter 9

LATE THE NEXT DAY
LOWER LEVELS
GONDALOO RESORT

---

Jamie snapped the last of the new modules into Neptune Bride's computer core and waited for the diagnostic display on the main panel to clear.  This latest upgrade meant that from now on, Margo's submarine yacht would be able to operate with a complete copy of Eve's persona onboard.  No more dependence on the sometimes tenuous laser link to the surface.

"All functions are nominal, Jamie," Eve announced.

"Lovely!  It'll be great having you as a full-time crew member next time we take 'er out," Jamie said.

"This upgrade will make no real difference in safety or operations," Eve observed, "but you will have my charming self to talk to, without using most of the available bandwidth talking to the surface."

Jamie closed the access panel and pocketed the old modules, then stood, brushed and straightened her blue TESSERACT coverall, and walked to the submersible's main hatch.  She paused before ascending the ladder to the docking chamber.  Bride was truly a wonder.  As comfortable and well appointed as a large cabin cruiser, it was nonetheless a fully functional, deep diving submarine, sleek and streamlined, equal parts Great White Shark, Orca, and Marlin. True, she rolls like a pig on the surface 'til the outriggers deploy , Jamie reflected, but you can't have a sub and a surface skimmer in one design without some compromise.

Jamie climbed the ladder, cycled through the docking chamber's airlock, and started up the long, sloping, access tunnel that led back to the surface.  The last couple of days have really been something, she thought.  The hunt and Margo's capture, the luau, Kat's capture, the parade back to the main resort...  Jamie felt a tiny thrill course through her loins as she remembered the parade: Margo nude (other than a pair of sandals), rope binding her wrists behind her back, a tight cleave gag tied between her teeth, a rope leash (one end tied around the prisoner's throat, the other in Jamie's own freckled hand); Kat, unconscious (much safer that way), cleave gagged, slung under a pole by her bound (elaborately, carefully bound) wrists and ankles, being carried by Anne and Jodi, looking for all the world like an exotic tigress, bagged by some big game hunter—by Jamie!  The thrill returned, in spades.

When they reached the resort, Jamie had untied her mentor and stood back.  A robot had relieved Jodi and Anne of their burden (and disappeared with Kat's still unconscious, captive form into the bowels of the resort), and the "Loyal Gondaloos" also waited anxiously to see what would happen next.

Margo locked eyes with her diminutive former captor, lifted the leash off her neck and tossed it aside, then reached back and untied her gag.  She gazed down on her freckled, petite protégé, and said nothing for several seconds, then smiled and opened her arms.  Jamie could still feel her friend's warm, naked embrace.

"Thank you for a most enjoyable game, Freckle Fox," Margo said.

"You sure you aren't mad?" Jodi asked, feigning genuine disappointment.  "We'll tie her up and torture her for you if you like."

"Speak for yourself," Anne had said, sending a wink in Jamie's smiling direction.  "I'm a 'Loyal Gondaloo' to the bitter end."

Margo laughed and hugged Jamie even tighter.  "Maybe later," she said (or promised).  "For now, I'm more interested in a bath and something to eat."

"Eve, brunch on the South Beach Terrace in one hour," Jamie ordered.

"What about Kat?" Anne asked, ever practical.

Jamie smiled coyly and batted her eyes at Margo.  "Kitty-Kat followed me home," she said.  "Can I keep her?"

This had all turned out better then Jamie had ever imagined.  Margo had enjoyed herself, Jodi had enjoyed herself, Anne had enjoyed herself (at least Anne had said she had enjoyed herself—it would probably take the lawyer a little time to work out all her feelings, although it obviously had been a net plus).

Net plus!  Jamie smiled as she continued up the tunnel, thinking of Kat's capture.  Kat's enjoying herself too, on some level... although I'd have to really torture her before she'd admit it.

Jamie made a quick side trip to a maintenance alcove to deposit the old logic modules in a recycling chute, then continued up to the Reef Lounge.

Reef Lounge was one of her favorite parts of the resort.  A large, "V" shaped space, the high ceiling was three meters below mean low tide, with one wall of huge glass windows looking out across a seaward arm of the reef, and the other looking in to the Resort's main lagoon.  Cool and blue, with subdued, indirect lighting designed to mimic the ever-changing shafts of sun light that penetrated to this depth in tropical waters, dappling the sea floor.  It was almost like being underwater itself.

Jamie paused to watch one of Eve's fist-sized "trilo-bots" crawling over the ocean side of one of the reef windows, its rubber suction panels rippling like the clinging foot of a primitive, living animal, its wide, rasping "mouth parts" busy at the endless task of keeping the nine centimeter thick glass free of marine growth.  Jamie's smile widened.  Frisbee, one of the pod of dolphins that allowed Margo to pretend this was her Island (and had adopted Jamie as one of their own), eased close and nudged the trilo-bot playfully, then turned his snout seaward and rocketed away.

Jamie stretched and turned her back to the window.  Reef Lounge, like most of the resort, reflected (often quite literally) Margo's taste for mirrored, modern, understated, "less-is-more" decor, but the temporary centerpiece of the room fit the scheme surprisingly well.

It was a cubical cage of chromed steel bars, three meters on a side.  The bars were each about two centimeters in width and spaced six apart.  Most of the floor of the cage was covered by a thick, soft, very large, oblong pad, but there was a steel tray full of kitty litter in one corner, and in the opposite corner, a small, low shelf with water and food dishes.

The cage had an occupant, a most unhappy occupant.

Jamie yawned, then smiled sweetly.  "Are you enjoying your last night on the Island, Kitty-Kat?" she asked.

The question was rhetorical, but in any case, "Kitty-Kat" was unwilling and unable to answer.  Kat's hands were locked behind her back, completely encased in a "U" shaped steel cylinder.  Arms folded, fingers touching their opposite elbows, the form-fitting cylinder had been pumped full of foam gel that had long since cured into a solid mass.  Kat couldn't even wiggle her fingers, much less use her hands to attempt an escape.  Her ankles were locked in wide, heavy, steel shackles, joined by about 20 centimeters of stout, steel chain.  A heavy, steel, choker collar was locked around her throat, with more of the chain linking the back of the collar to the center of the cylinder immobilizing her arms.  As a decorative (and humiliating) touch, a golden bell dangled from the front of the collar, jingling mockingly with Kat's every movement.  Kat's green eyes glared above a tight ball gag, the strap of black leather, the ball a translucent hot-pink.

Jamie was especially proud of Kat's costume, but she acknowledged that while the idea may have been hers, it was Eve's execution that really made it work.  Kat was stitched and glued into a skintight leotard of short, silky, microfiber "fur", dyed in feline stripes and spots of gray and brown over a white base.  Her feline, jungle camouflage, face paint had been removed and replaced with more elaborate and stylized feline markings that carried the striped pattern of the leotard across the prisoner's angry features.  Her real hair was carefully coiled under a complementary "fur" fright wig, which also incorporated a pair of large, distinctively feline "ears."  The end of Kat's nose was painted in a glossy pink inverted triangle, and long, drooping whiskers had been carefully glued to her upper lip.

All in all, a very tasteful, stylish costume, the sort of thing Kat herself might have selected if forced to attend a fancy-dress ball (or star in Andrew Lloyd Webber's Cats)... except for a couple of rather revealing details, specifically, openings in the leotard exposing her breasts and crotch.  Kat's breasts weren't quite bare.  Their outer circumference had been painted to carry the fur pattern roughly halfway to each nipple, and the nipples themselves had received a generous pink coating that matched her nose.  Paint had also been used to merge the fur with her crotch; however (incongruously), Kat's own pubic hair had been dusted with tiny, pink, metallic sparkles, which the miserable captive had found no amount of rubbing against "cat bed" or bars would dislodge.

"It's no more than you deserve," Jamie said with a smirk.  "You were really mean to me the time those two detectives were here.  Especially in the hanger at Cairns.  It took me two days to scrub all that crud off of me.  Thought I was gonna lose half m'freckles for a while there."  Kat growled around her gag, obviously not the slightest bit contrite.  "I wish I was gonna get to keep you longer, but Margo says she really is gonna need you when she gets to Kyoto, so..."  Kat twisted in her bonds in frustration.  "Margo agrees that it's too dangerous to let you loose 'til you're off the island, so you get to ride in the cargo hold, cage and all, as far as Cairns, anyway."  Kat turned her gagged head with feline disdain, pointedly ignoring her gloating, redheaded tormentor.  "And just wait 'til you see the costume I have picked out for you for Kyoto," Jamie continued.  "It's—"

Jamie suddenly became aware of the smell of salt water and a presence behind her—directly behind her.  She spun on her heel and found Margo standing inches away, dressed in a black, one piece swimsuit which, like her hair, was still damp from an evening swim in the lagoon.

Jamie blushed and gave a startled laugh.  "Margo," she said nervously, "you scared me."

"Did I?" the tall brunette mused, her lips curled in a sardonic smile.

"Yes," Jamie answered.  She looked up at her statuesque employer and friend.  Margo's suit was thin, tight, and very French cut.  Pert breasts, flat stomach, prominent mons, she might as well have been wearing a layer of black paint instead of the damp suit.  Not for the first time, Jamie was struck by Margo's regal, automatic command of the situation, of any situation, of her ... and by her boss' toned, athletic body and exquisite face.  Jamie swallowed and forced a grin.  "I was just—"

"I've decided to veto Kat's Kyoto costume," Margo interrupted, then raised her eyes to gaze at her caged and helpless bodyguard.  "Although, Kat would have looked fetching in a hot-pink leather catsuit—"  Kat's eyes went very wide, and she mewed through her gag.  Margo chuckled.  "—with locking clasps to which 'Kitty-Kat' wouldn't have the key, and with the special rubber nubs and ridges lining strategic locations?"  Kat's nostrils flared above her gag.  "I'm afraid it would just not be appropriate for business meetings.  Pity.  Hmm..." Margo purred.  "Is that fear or excitement in her eyes?"

Jamie turned and gave the feline captive an assessing look.  "I think—M'mmpfh!"

Margo held Jamie close, one hand tight over the petite biologist's lips, the other pinning the redhead's elbows behind her back.  "Rhetorical question," the TESSERACT CEO whispered.

From the corner of her eye, Jamie watched a nearly silent service-bot roll near.  A tray was clamped in one manipulator arm, and on the tray, a neatly stacked array of numerous thin, coiled, lengths of rope; two rolls of dermafoam tape (one narrow, one wide); and two pair of wrinkled, used panties.

"It occurred to me that while you were nice enough to improve on my little game, perhaps unauthorized intrusion in my recreation isn't something I should encourage, so I've decided I shouldn't let you feel neglected on this trip after all," Margo explained.  Jamie and Kat locked eyes, Jamie's wide and excited, Kat's narrow and jealous.  They both could read the signs... and knew the rules.  Jamie, of course, would do anything Margo asked her to do, at any time... but not tonight.  Tonight she had been captured, and she had to escape, and she would struggle for all she was worth!

"Kat taught me a new take-down," Margo announced, then used her left foot to knock Jamie's feet out from under her, and still holding the hand-gagged and helpless redhead close, rolled with her captive to the soft carpet.  Jamie squealed and tried to struggle, but by the time the pair had come to rest she found herself lying on her back, her arms and body pinned by Margo's splayed knees and the weight of the brunette's body on her abdomen.  Margo's right hand had never left Jamie's lips.  Jamie's tall captor used her left hand to straighten Jamie's tousled curls.  "How'd I do?" Margo asked her gagged bodyguard.

Kat nodded her head, her eyes still burning with jealousy.

Jamie's eyes followed Margo's left hand as her captor retrieved the soiled panties from the helpful robot's tray.  "These are Jodi and Anne's contribution," Margo explained.  "They're playing backgammon out by the lagoon to determine who gets to practice her rope work on the other this evening.  When I left, Anne was ahead.  What they don't know," Margo confided in a whisper, "is that when the winner is finished dealing with the loser... I'm going to deal with the winner."  Margo dropped one pair of panties on Jamie's chest and rolled the other into a tight ball.  "Say ah," she commanded.

"M'mm-Margo, plea-mmf."  Resistance was useless as Margo's strong fingers forced the first of the panties between Jamie's lips.  During this process, Margo's right hand never completely relinquished its tight clamp over the redhead's now bulging cheeks and lips.

"That's Anne..." Margo purred, then balled up the second pair and packed it into Jamie's mouth beside the first.    "And that's Jodi.  Taste any difference?"  Jamie shuddered, struggled, and rolled her apparently fear widened eyes, playing her part in their little melodrama to the hilt.

Margo took the narrow roll of dermafoam from the tray.  Being careful to avoid trapping any of Jamie's coppery curls, and giving her captive no opportunity to expel the silk filling her mouth, Margo gave her petite prisoner a tight cleave gag with multiple layers of tape through the redhead's pursed lips and between her teeth, and around the back of her neck, cramming the panties even tighter.

"This is a new generation of dermafoam," Margo explained as she worked.  "It has a lattice of myoplastic fibrils woven in the foam cloth.  When it all fuses together, it makes for uniform tension."  Margo reached for the second, wider roll and began wrapping tight, carefully overlapping layers around Jamie's gagged lips and bulging cheeks, completely covering the captive's mouth and lower face.  "By varying the fiber to foam ratio and weaving different patterns, we can make versions that range from soft and pliable to, to elastic and stiff, to completely rigid," Margo continued.  "The Medical Division says it will be as big an improvement over current cast technology as fiberglas tape was over plaster."  Margo's grin widened.  "And just think of the recreational possibilities."

Jamie shuddered at the thought of tape bonds, mummy wrappings, and a rigid sarcophagus, all in one tight, uniform, encasement; multiple layers of dermafoam fused together; soft, pliable bindings against her skin and hard shell to the uncaring world.  She imagined being placed in such a condition, with only her nostrils open to the precious air, perhaps in one of the Resort's smaller, isolated, lower level storerooms; Margo gloating over her helpless form, about to close the heavy door and seal her in her 'tomb' for hours and hours.  Delicious, Jamie thought, squirming under Margo's weight, feeling her friend's strong thighs clamp tighter against her arms.

The redhead's green eyes gazed up into her boss' smiling face.  She's in a cruel mood tonight , Jamie reflected.  She's probably going to do something really nasty to me to make up for allowing me to play 'dress-up' with her Kitty-Kat... even though she knows it won't make any difference to Kat.  Kat will still take her revenge... someday... when Margo decides to let her.  The shudder returned in spades.

Jamie tried to flex her jaw and tongue around her gag and found the effort futile.  The panties filled her mouth and held her tongue, and as the dermafoam cleave and outer layers fused, her teeth and lips were trapped in tight pockets.  It's like an elastic bandage, she mused, but nothing shifts or moves.

Margo rolled Jamie onto her stomach, keeping the captive's arms trapped with her weight and strong thighs.  She then lifted Jamie's shoulders from the floor, reached to the front, unzipped her blue coverall, then peeled it from the redhead's upper body until her bare, freckled shoulders and upper arms were exposed.  Jamie mewed through her fast curing gag as Margo drew a doubled loop of rope between the redhead's upper arms, pulled until the elbows touched, and slowly, carefully, bound them together.

Next, Margo slid her weight down Jamie's struggling form, continuing to pull the coverall down the prisoner's torso, revealing more and more freckled skin and lithe, straining arms and torso, until finally, Jamie's panties, a pale silky green, came into view.  Margo reversed position, her back now to Jamie's trashing, complaining head, and the coverall and panties were stripped down Jamie's slender, kicking legs, and tossed aside.

"Eve, I'm tired of those frumpy coveralls," Margo announced.  "Have the design people come up with something better.  I want it to be just as practical, lots of pockets and the like, only body hugging and—" Margo casually slapped Jamie's now naked buttocks, eliciting a gagged squeal. "—sexy."

"Yes, Margo," Eve intoned.

"You may elicit comments and suggestions from Dr. Seaton—" Margo looked back over her shoulder at the bobbing, mewing tousle of red curls.  "—when she's in a more articulate mood."

"Yes, Margo."

Margo then trapped Jamie's thrashing legs in the crook of her left arm, and plucked the worn deck shoe from her captive's right foot.  "And let's do something about these shoes, as well.  When you settle on colors and style for the Institute's new uniform, have the Nike people turn out something complementary, something in their new zip-tab hiking shoes perhaps, something practical and comfortable in this environment, only more stylish than these things."

"Yes, Margo."

Margo tossed the right shoe aside and pulled off Jamie's left.  The redhead's small, lithe, freckled feet and toes flexed and pointed as she struggled in her captor's grasp.  "Stop squirming," Margo ordered.  Jamie ignored the command, as Margo knew she would.  Margo gave the left shoe a cautious, delicate sniff, then tossed it away.  "Don't you people believe in foot powder Down Under?" she muttered.

Margo climbed off her "victim" to select more rope from the robot's tray.

As soon as Margo's head turned, Jamie rolled to the side, scrambled to her feet, and sprinted towards the lower level tunnels.  Margo smiled, watching the nude, elbow bound and tape gagged redhead patter into the distance.  She glanced at Kat (who was still working up a seriously jealous pout), laughed, grabbed a hank of rope, and jogged after the freckled fugitive.

Margo quickly caught up to Jamie, and slowed to an amused walk, watching her diminutive, elbow-bound friend awkwardly attempting to enter an access code into the keypad next to a closed door panel while simultaneously struggling to keep her tousled curls out of her face so she could read the pad's numbers.  Both efforts were made laughably impractical by her semi-helpless condition.

Jamie squawked through her gag when Margo grabbed a handful of red hair, ending the escape attempt.  "Naughty girl, Freckle Fox," Margo scolded in an amused whisper.  "You just earned yourself a punishment."  Margo tripped Jamie onto the carpet, knelt, and quickly tied the recaptured redhead's knees together.  She then lifted the bound, gagged, freckled bundle onto her shoulder with Jamie's fluttering legs to the front and mewing, bobbing mass of red curls to the rear.  Margo popped the prisoner's dimpled bottom.  "Calm down," Margo ordered.  "Take it like a damsel."

Despite herself, Jamie giggled through her gag as she was carried back to the lounge, but had recovered her frightened prisoner persona by the time she was dropped onto her stomach at her original point of escape.  Margo untied Jamie's knees, shook out the now available length of rope, and set to work.  Jamie turned her head and watched as a couple of the smaller "maid-bots" retrieved her deck shoes and carefully rolled her coverall around them, making a tight bundle.  Task complete, one of the bots departed with the blue package.  The other retrieved Jamie's panties, neatly folded them, placed them on the service-bot's tray, and also departed.

Meanwhile, Margo bent Jamie's left leg until the heel of her left, freckled foot pressed into the redhead's left, freckled buttock, and bound it in position with a tight, wide band of rope around Jamie's upper left ankle and upper left thigh, cinched in between.  Jamie's right leg was bent and bound in similar fashion.  Next, Margo pulled Jamie's right wrist alongside the outside of her right ankle, and bound it in place, tying the final knots well away from Jamie's fluttering fingers.  Left wrist and left ankle were joined, and Margo sat back in a lounge chair to watch Jamie struggle.  "You won't be going anywhere now, I think," Margo observed.

Bound elbow to elbow, wrist to ankle, and ankle to thigh, Jamie explored her condition, deciding that with considerable sweat and effort she might eventually be able to roll onto her side, but anything even approaching escape was impossible.  She mewed and writhed, groping for any available knots with her slender, freckled fingers.  The ropes were too tight, too well placed, and the knots unreachable.  Jamie knew herself to be completely helpless... and vulnerable.  She shuddered in her merciless bonds, savoring her plight.

Margo smiled and reached for Jamie's panties, which she tucked half into the bodice of her swimsuit.  "Anne or Jodi will probably be able to find a use for these," she explained, then stood and stretched.  "We'll be leaving at first light," Margo said, "so I'll say my good-byes now."  Jamie mewed and struggled with a flash of genuine alarm.  "Of course I'm going to leave you like this," Margo said with a gloating smile.  "Eve will load Kat's cage into the plane in a few hours, so you two can enjoy each other's company 'til then."

Margo picked up a small tubular object from a nearby table and knelt close to Jamie.  "And here's something else for you to enjoy."  She held the object before Jamie's eyes, and the helpless redhead recognized Charlie's solid state, non-vibrating stimulator, the same one (the only one this side of the Pacific as far as she knew) she had used to "torture" Margo in the cave.  Jamie whimpered through her gag and gazed up into her boss' gloating face.  Margo smiled cruelly and flicked the switch on the unit's base.  Ruby and emerald rings began glowing all along its length.  "Since you asked so nicely," Margo purred, "of course you can have it back."  Jamie was helpless (in every sense) to prevent Margo from sliding the rod between her labia and into her already well-lubricated sex.  Margo took a long length of thin cord, rolled Jamie onto her side, and tied a single tight loop around the redhead's narrow waist, the knot just below her navel.  She then pulled the cord taut and tied several tight hitches around the base of Charlie's Magic Wand where it protruded from Jamie's flushed nether lips.  Finally, Margo rolled the increasingly aroused Jamie back onto her stomach, looped the free end of the cord up and through her elbow bonds, gave it a savage tug, and began tying it off.

Margo tied a last, tight, redundant knot and stood.  "I'm sure you'll find it a hopeless task to dislodge Charlie's gift, bound as you are," she purred sadistically, "but feel free to entertain Kat by giving it your best shot."

Margo grew thoughtful.  "Eve," she called, "is there any reason this piezoelectric system Charlie's developed couldn't be incorporated into one of our chastity belts, the one with the little cage clamps inside the crotch shield that hold the labia open, the clit collar, and the anal ring?"

"I know which model you are referring to," Eve answered. "There is no reason whatsoever all of the intimate features of the design could not be manufactured incorporating Ms. Paretsky's invention."

"Good," Margo said.  "Please have one ready when I get back to Seattle.  The lock should be keyed to my transponder only, and I'd like controls I can access via the wireless network... in Charlie's size, of course."

"Yes, Margo."

Margo watched Jamie struggle for several seconds.  The captive's brow was beginning to glisten, trapping coppery strands of the redhead's hair.  "And Eve," Margo added, "Jamie will have access to the belt's controls as well.  I believe Dr. Seaton is of the opinion that Charlie would benefit from a little... academic discipline."

"Yes, Margo."

Jamie whimpered through her gag as Margo gently ran her hand over the prisoner's freckled rump and back, leaded down and kissed her head.  "Speaking of hopeless struggles," Margo murmured, "just think of it: I certainly won't help you, Kat certainly can't and won't help you."  Margo glanced at her caged, bound, and gagged bodyguard.  "I'm sure Kat has a long list of things she'd like to do to you," Margo chuckled, "but helping you is certainly not on it."  She turned her attention back to her naked, helpless, writhing protégé.  "Jodi and Anne don't even know you need help, and very shortly neither of them will be in any condition to provide help to anyone, not even themselves."  Jamie whined through her gag. "And like Kat," Margo continued, "both will leave the Island as completely helpless as you are now... leaving no one... leaving you alone."   Jamie struggled and mewed, building towards the first of what would certainly be many relentless orgasms.  "There's Eve, of course," Margo admitted, "but Eve has careful instructions regarding yourself, and Eve always follows my instructions.  Isn't that right Eve?"

"The spirit and the letter, my creator," Eve stated.

Margo stood and walked towards the passage that led up towards the surface, the rest of resort, and Jodi and Anne.  She paused and looked back.  Kat was curling up on her "bed," resigned to her final hours of captivity.  "One last thing, Freckle Fox," she called back.  Jamie lifted her head and looked at her friend and tormentor through glazed eyes.  "I've decided to give you your birthday present a few months early, so after she drops us off at Cairns, Lourdes will be returning... eventually... with a consignment for you.  Thanks again for a wonderful visit... and here's something for you to think about over the next several hours: there's always a price to be paid for meddling in my affairs."

Margo turned and walked away.  A price, Jamie thought, a hideous, delicious price.  The redhead mewed through her gag... and surrendered to the piezoelectric stimuli dancing across some of her favorite nerve endings.

Jamie had been barely aware of Kat's departure.  She had heard and felt a low rumbling, and turned her head to see the captive bodyguard's cage rolling away in the care of one of Eve's cargo-bots.  She was sure she'd remember the look of pure venom in Kat's eyes as long as she lived.  Maybe I went too far, Jamie thought.

That had been hours ago.  Jamie could tell it was now probably a little before noon from the color of the water in the reef and lagoon windows, but it was hard to be sure... especially exhausted from countless orgasms and no real sleep.  If... when Jamie got free (all else failing, she knew Eve would release her eventually), she'd have to start planning her next move in the Inner Circle's endless games of capture and escape... but first... Charlie's damn gift was putting her over the edge again, and the ropes were tighter than ever, and she was gagged, and abandoned , and alone, and... and...

Jamie became aware of a pair of hands smoothing damp strands of hair from her sweat filmed face.  It was her Kiwi friend Lourdes, one of TESSERACT's best pilots, dressed for business in a tight-fitting, blue jumpsuit.  Jamie mewed weakly.  Lourdes laughed, pulled a small multi-tool from her belt, carefully snipped through Jamie's gag, peeled it away from her lips and face, pulled the panties from between the redhead's lips, and tossed them aside.

"Am I glad to see you," Jamie croaked, gazing up at the exotic, Eurasian beauty.  (Lourdes heritage could best be described as Pacific Basin, shaken and stirred, heavy on the Maori, and someone had gotten the mix exactly right.)

Lourdes set to work, untying Jamie's bonds.  Soon the stiff, exhausted, sweat soaked redhead was free, and her rescuer helped her to her unsteady feet.  "Let's go get you a quick shower and some tea... and something to wear," Lourdes suggested.

Jamie blushed.  "Just a minute," she said, fumbled between her legs, extracted Charlie's still glowing and stimulating gift, and switched it off.  Lourdes politely ignored this intimate event.  Jamie started to toss the rod forcefully into a far corner, then reconsidered and carefully set it down on a nearby table.  Lourdes grinned, draped one arm around the petite redhead's shoulder... (Yes, even little Lourdes was taller than Freckle Fox.) ...and helped her friend walk up the ramp and out into the sunshine of the lagoon area.

By the time Jamie had finished taking a quick rinse under one of the lagoon's beach showers, Eve's service-bots had arrived with a thick towel; sport sandals, panties, shorts, and a tank top; and a complete brunch.  Lourdes smiled and sipped a cup of tea as Jamie dried and dressed herself, then dove into a plate of scrambled eggs, smoked sea bass, and fresh fruit.

"I could sleep for a week," Jamie mumbled around a mouthful of fresh bread.

"I'm afraid there's something you'll have to attend to first," Lourdes said coyly.

Jamie raised a questioning eyebrow as she took a gulp of papaya juice.

"Margo mentioned your consignment?" Lourdes asked.  "A gift I believe?"

"It can wait," Jamie said, "or Eve can handle it."

"Unfortunately no," Lourdes contradicted.  "Margo left special instructions, and the consignment is... perishable."

"Oh bloody hell," Jamie groused.

"Your present is on the landing beach," Lourdes said, setting down her tea cup and standing, "but unfortunately I won't be here to watch you open it."

"Another flight?" Jamie asked, downing the last of her juice.

"A pressing engagement tonight in Cairns," she answered.  "I hate to rescue distressed damsels and run, but..."  She leaned down, gave Jamie a quick kiss, and headed for the beach.

Jamie took a final bite of bread.  "Hang on," she called, and hurried after her friend.

Lourdes' tiltrotor seaplane leapt into the air and accelerated away, then looped back and made a low pass over the beach, the stubby wings waggling in farewell.  Jamie waved and watched the plane disappear towards the horizon, then turned to the roughly cubic meter packing case resting on the sand before her.

There was a small display and a security transponder reader under a cover on the lid.  The display held a simple message:

_ TO BE OPENED BY DR. JAMIE SEATON ... ONLY_ _

TESSERACT»SECURlock®

_
Jamie tapped her signet ring on the surface of the reader unit.  There was a quiet chime, and a further message appeared on the tiny screen.

Jamie, Your present. Please try not to break it. Happy Birthday! Margo_

_
There was a second chime, and the main lid of the case popped open with a hydraulic hiss.  Jamie peered inside—and frowned.  Apparently her "present" was—a woman—a very naked, stringently bound and gagged woman, curled in a fetal tuck inside the thickly padded case.  Long legs, slender torso, well-toned arms, pert breasts, lots of tan, smooth, flawless skin (with no tan lines, Jamie noted), a mop of silky, blond, sun-bleached hair—gold braided nylon rope bonds at ankles, knees, wrists (behind her back, of course), elbows, framing her breasts and pinning her arms—multilayered, purple silk gag (apparently with lots of stuffing), cute button nose, purple silk blindfold...

The "present" in question writhed in her bonds, lifted her silk muted and blinded face towards the open lid (and Jamie), and mewed through her gag.  Margo sent me a woman? Jamie mused—a stranger?  More bloody Inner Circle fun and games!  What should I...?  Jamie paused.  There was something familiar about the captive.  Jamie leaned into the case and untied the woman's blindfold.  A large pair of pale blue eyes blinked in the tropical sun for several seconds, then focused on Jamie.  The tan skin at the corners of the captive's eyes crinkled in a happy smile.  Jamie did know her.  It was—

"Gwendoline!" Jamie yelped.

It was her VR pen pal—in the flesh—the bound and gagged, very real flesh!

Jamie helped her friend kneel upright in the case and untied her gag (a lengthy process involving a great deal of unwinding and unstuffing).  Eventually "Gwen" licked her full lips and favored her freckled, redheaded friend with a wide, dimpled grin.

"If it isn't 'Matilda,' my favorite Ozzie gull," the blonde said in the cultured, English, "BBC accent" with the impudent twist Jamie knew so well.

"Bloody hell!" Jamie exclaimed and gave her friend a tight hug.

 "Penelope Brightman," the bound blonde said, "Penny to my friends, Dr. Seaton.  Transported as of this date to Gondaloo Island Resort."

"Huh?"

"I've had the advantage of you, I'm afraid," Penny explained.  "I've known you were the famous Dr. Jamie Seaton of Margo's famous Mysterious Island for some months now, even though you knew me only as 'Gwendoline'."

"And now I seem to have the advantage of you," Jamie observed with a smile, giving the rope above Penny's breasts a tug.  "Stand up and I'll... Did you say 'transported?'  The bloody Crown stopped the bloody transportation nearly 200 bloody years ago.  If Margo thinks she can start dumping TESSERACT's British 'undesirables' out here...  What did you do?  Steal a crust of bread from the corporate cafeteria?"

"How very droll," Gwendoline said with a chuckle.  "Actually, this is a personnel transfer of a non-penal nature.  I'm with TESSERACT's Entertainment Services Division," Penny explained as Jamie unsnapped two interior latches, allowed the front of the case to drop to the sand, then busied herself untying the naked captive's knees.  (Jamie noted that Penny was a natural blonde.)  "Margo knows how much you hate being hostess out here," Penny continued.  Jamie paused and gave the tall, tan Brit a slightly hurt frown, then started untying Penny's ankles.  "Don't start pouting," Penny teased.  "Margo has always been completely satisfied with your hospitality, but she also knows it takes you away from your research.  In any case, I have been appointed as Gondaloo Resort's official hostess and hotelier."

"So I get to 'play with the fishies', as Jodi puts it, and the next load of boring guests Margo sends out here to be wined, dined, and chatted up, you get to be the one with the glued on smile," Jamie said.

"Exactly," Penny laughed, "and all the loads to follow."

"This is a happy birthday," Jamie said, then tied a slip knot in one of the now unused lengths of rope, dropped it over Penny's head and led her towards the main resort.  "Let's get a drink," the redhead suggested.

"Super," Penny responded, then twisted in her remaining bonds as she walked.  "Ah, what about the rest of this?"

"Excellent rope work," Jamie observed, ignoring her captive friend's implied request for release.

"It was amazing," Penny said, shaking her head.  "I arrive at the TESSERACT hanger in Cairns, there's this beautiful girl waiting for me, claiming to be a pilot, though she looks to be about fifteen—"

P e n e l o p e   B r i g h t m a n   a t   C a i r n s

"That would be Lourdes," Jamie laughed, "and she's older than she looks."

"So I gather," Penny said.  "Anyway, she offers me tea.  When we're finished, she politely asks if I'm ready to go, then jumps me, strips me, ties me up, gags and blindfolds me, pops me in that ghastly awful crate—and I couldn't do a thing to stop her!  That little slip of a girl—"

"Is a world class martial artist," Jamie interrupted.  "The only person I know who could have stopped her is probably Kat... Kat Mayfair?"

"Yes, 'Margo's pet kitty'," Penny confirmed.  "That would be interesting... watching them go at it?  Rather like an exotic tropical sparrow and a sleek black cat tossing each other about the lawn, I imagine."

Jamie grinned.  It was going to be a lot of fun having Gwendoline, or rather Penny, around full time.

"In any case," Penny continued, "...here I am."  They reached the lagoon lounge area, settled into chairs, and watched a robot approach with a tray of cool drinks.  Penny turned to Jamie, smiled, twisted in her ropes, and raised her eyebrow in question, unambiguously indicating her wish to be untied.

Jamie smiled back.  "Eve," she called, "how long before the next batch of resort guests is scheduled to arrive?"

"Seven weeks, Jamie," Eve responded.

"Thank you," Jamie said.  Her smile broadened... and took on a slightly sinister curl.

"'Bloody hell', indeed." Penny sighed, in good-natured exasperation.