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			DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
			Kat's Story — by Michael Masterton Chapter 6

Kathleen was metres away from the door to Jamie’s quarters.  She stopped, hearing strange noises.  Hesitating for a moment, the urge to investigate overtook her, and she rushed to the closed door.  It slid open, revealing the tableau of hogtied, gagged and naked (apart from a pair of ballet slippers) redhead, struggling furiously on a bed, and trying to communicate with unintelligible noises and widening eyes. 

“Oh my god, who did this to you?” Kathleen exclaimed. 

More unintelligible noises, that seemed to becoming more desperate.  Kathleen fumbled with the multitude of bindings and knots. 

“Hang on,” Kathleen tried to reassure the redheaded captive, “I don’t know where to start with this.  Maybe I’ll start with your gag, you’re obviously trying to tell me something.”  

Her hand moved forward to peel the tape from the redhead’s mouth, but she stopped.  A bullet raced past her, missing her and the bound redhead by centimetres, and embedded itself in the wall behind them.  The door opened, and a robot scurried in, hastily applying plaster to the hole in the wall. 

“My friend is trying to tell you this is a trap,” a female voice with an American accent said behind her.

Oh no—not again—not twice in one day, Kathleen thought. 

“If she’s your friend, I hate to see what you do to your enemies,” Kathleen remarked. 

“That’s a pity—because that’s exactly what you’re about to find out, smart ass,” the voice responded, “Now put your hands behind your back, palm to palm.” 

Kathleen could smell leather, and a musky perfume, as the voice’s owner moved up close behind her.  Kathleen could do little except look down at the hogtied redhead, and across at the robot fastidiously repairing the wall, as she felt rope tightening around her wrists.   Once the rope binding her hands behind her back was tied off tightly, she gasped as more rope tightened around her elbows, drawing them closer together.  This rope was also finished with a roughly tightened knot that made Kathleen wince.   

Her captor came into view, deciding to direct her fury towards the fussy robot.  Kathleen could see that she was tall, rather stunning, and wearing a leather catsuit, gloves and boots.  Her captor sunk one of those boots into what must have been the robot’s equivalent of a backside, which sent it into a spin, before it squealed and scurried towards the door.  But the door was still shut, so the robot slammed into it.  The door opened, and it scooted out into the corridor.  

Kathleen had already realised that this was her chance.  Naked, with her arms and wrists tied tightly behind her back, she didn’t know what she could do to escape from this leather clad madwoman, but she was going to try.  She had barely moved a couple of centimetres when her captor spun around to face her again, pointing the muzzle of the gun in-between her eyes. 

“Quite good, “ her captor remarked, “but not good enough.” 

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Kathleen asked, keeping her rising sense of fear under control. 

“I’ll ask the questions.  Who are you?” 

“I’m DS Kathleen Jones, National Crime Authority.  And you’re in deep shit.” 

“Oh yeah, and I’m Mickey Mouse.  Where’s your ID?  You’re the one who’s in deep shit.” 

“Where’s my ID?  Where do you think, up my arse?  I was made to strip, I lost my ID.” 

“Dear, dear, how careless.   So how do I know you’re a cop?” 

“I can assist you in proving the intruders identity,” that disembodied voice interjected. 

“Eve, how many times do I have to tell you!  If I want your help, I’ll ask!” 

Her captor turned quickly back to Kathleen, and started to look up and down approvingly at her naked and vulnerable body, which made her feel very uncomfortable.   

“I wish all trespassers were as pretty as you,” she purred. 

Suddenly, like a magician, there was a rubber ball in the palm of her captor’s hand.  Her captor used her other hand to prise open Kathleen’s mouth with a vice-like grip.  The rubber ball was shoved in her mouth with deft fingers, and strips of tape quickly produced and applied over her lips and cheeks to hold the packing in place.  

“That’s much better,” her captor remarked as she smoothed the tape with leather clad fingers, “if you can’t say anything sensible, you won’t say anything at all.” 

“The brunette intruder has now finished her shower,” Eve said. 

“Good,” Kat said, approving of Eve’s sudden appropriate helpfulness as much as of the news itself.  She laughed as Kathleen’s eyes widened.  “Oh yes, I know you’ve got a friend with you.  Jo’s the name, right?  I wonder if she’ll claim to be a cop as well? ....or maybe a fireman? ....an astronaut?  Let’s go find out.  I’m sure she’d be disappointed if we don’t let her join the party.”  

Her captor grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her out of the room, leaving the redhead hogtied and helpless on the bed.

Jo, still dripping wet from her shower, searched the guest suite desperately for a towel, or anything that she could dry herself with, let alone wear. 

“Not even a complimentary bathrobe,” she grumbled to herself.  She looked at the bed, which only had a bare mattress, sighed and gave up. 

“I suppose it doesn’t matter if we’re naked,” she consoled herself, “if we’re the only ones on the island.”  

“Your laundry is now sparkling clean, it was a pleasure to be of assistance to you,” a soothing voice announced, startling Jo momentarily, but she relaxed as she remembered she had deposited her sneakers and socks in some kind of automatic laundry device.  She retrieved these items from the device, and examined them carefully.  The white socks were so bright they nearly blinded her, and her sneakers looked better than when she first bought them.  She sat down on the bed, and slipped her feet into the socks, then put on her sneakers and laced them up.  She put her feet flat on the floor, tapping them idly as she looked around the suite.  She heard noises outside. 

“Kathleen, is that you?” she asked.  “I’ve managed to get myself cleaned up.  Did you find anything interesting?”  

A leather clad woman entered the suite, dragging a bound, gagged, and wincing Kathleen by the left ear.  

“Actually, something ‘interesting’ found her,” the woman said with a distinctly sinister smile. "Welcome to Gondaloo, Jo.”

Kat finished tying Kathleen’s ankles to the legs of a cane chair in the vast lounge in the resort area.  She stood up, and turned to the robot beside her, which was obediently waiting with a tray still piled up with rope.  Kathleen and Jo squirmed in their bindings, and mewed through their matching tape gags.  Their wrists and elbows were bound behind their backs and slung over the backs of the chairs, and were now tethered to the chair’s cross-bars with more rope.  Their legs were tied apart to the chair legs at their ankles and below their knees.  Still naked, the vulnerability of this position would be unbearable.  Kat smiled, enjoying the show, as she casually picked up a coil of rope from the tray and started to slowly unroll it.  

“That’s just the basics,” she said, anticipating her captive’s thoughts, “now for the detailing.” 

She walked around her squirming captives, and continued, “Now, who’s first?  Don’t all volunteer at once.”  

Her eyes locked on Kathleen.  

“Hmmm, I did always prefer blondes,” Kat purred, looking approvingly at the small furry bush between Kathleen’s splayed legs, “especially real blondes.” 

She ducked behind Kathleen, and attached a slip loop to the chair near her left breast.  She wound the rope around Kathleen’s heaving chest to the chair back and through her elbow tie, until her torso was all but welded to the chair.  Then Kat took another rope, and used it to tie Kathleen’s waist to the chair  back as well.  She tugged the ropes to check them for tightness, then repeated the process on Jo. 

“I love cane furniture—so many possibilities.  Plus the obvious connotations,” she remarked as she finished binding Jo.  She stood back to admire her handiwork, and indulged in the sight of two naked females thoroughly bound and gagged.  She looked down at their socks and sneakers. 

“Those cute sneakers bring back fond memories of my college days,” she reminisced, “I once spent an evening breaking into a snooty cheerleader’s dorm room and giving her an experience she never forgot....and on another occasion, a particularly nasty member of the female tennis team was discovered wearing only her sneakers, a few dozen yards of nylon cord, and a tight tape gag... at the bottom of a laundry hamper full of dirty jocks in the men’s locker room.  What a stink that caused,” Kat laughed. 

She realised the robot was still standing there. 

“Go away,” she commanded. 

The robot spun around and headed for the doorway, but crashed into the wall instead.  The tray clattered on the floor, scattering the rope that was still on there.    

“How odd,” Kat mused.  “Eve, are your robots rehearsing a clown act or something?” 

“All functions are normal-nominal-normal,” Eve responded, “non-essential functions will be subject to minor chaotic fluctuation until command process integration of the Gondaloo cognitive nexus has reached milestone seven alpha, which will happen in 1,457 seconds; 1,453 seconds; 1,450 seconds...” 

“Stop,” Kat barked, “in other words, your robots are rehearsing a clown act.” 

“All functions are nominal,” Eve intoned.    

A half dozen of Eve’s small cleanup robots zipped into the area and began gathering the scattered coils of rope.  One robot seemed to be slightly behind the others, and darted from coil to coil, always a second too late to snatch it from the floor.  As the last of its rope encumbered mates zipped from view, the still unburdened little robot gave a mournful bleep and departed as well. 

Kat rolled her eyes and turned to the huge video screen behind her, which was showing montages of rainforests.  

“Eve, put through a video call to Margo, and display the image on this screen.” 

“Making connection, please wait,” Eve responded.  “Ms. Wells should be on line in approximately thirty seconds.”  

“Time enough to finish my work,” Kat mused aloud, and walked behind Jo’s chair.  Gathering the free ends of the ropes binding the tall brunette’s wrists, Kat threaded them up and through the captive’s elbow bonds.  Jo winced as Kat jerked the rope tight and tied a double square knot. 

“Well out of the reach of questing fingers, eh?” Kat whispered in Jo’s ear, “but feel free to try.  It wouldn’t be any fun if you just gave up, now would it?”    

Jo ignored Kat’s gloating remarks, angry defiance in her eyes. 

The leather-clad bodyguard walked behind Kathleen.   

“And now for you, Blondie,” Kat purred.    

Kat lifted the free ends of Kathleen’s wrist bonds—but was interrupted by Eve. 

“Ms. Wells is now on-line,” the AI intoned.  

Kat dropped the rope ends and faced the screen.   

The rainforest scenes dissolved and  were replaced with the image of TESSERACT’s founder and CEO.    

“This better be good Kat—do you know what time it is in Seattle?” Margo fumed, “You’re lucky I was working late.”  

Kat hid her surprise at Margo’s anger from her captives. 

“Sorry,” Kat responded, keeping to the instructions Margo had originally given her, “but we’ve got a security problem on Gondaloo.” 

“Is it serious?” 

“No, but it’s—strange.” 

“What do you mean?  And who are those two naked women tied to chairs behind you?” 

“They caused the security breach.  Eve discovered them wandering naked on the island, with their hands cuffed behind their backs.” 

Margo seemed unimpressed by this information.  Kat continued, “and they both claim to be cops.” 

Margo’s face darkened, “I hope for your sake they’re not cops.  I’m in the middle of negoiations with the Queensland Police to supply them with Virtual Reality training facilities.”  

“Actually, they claimed to be with the National Crime Authority.” 

“That’s even worse—that’s the Australian equivalent of the FBI!” 

“But you told me to....” Kat began, but paused when she saw Margo lift an eyebrow.  Ah, Kat thought, she wants to keep these two completely in the dark.  Kat cleared her throat and continued,  “But you told me to be very wary of covert intrusion before Eve’s sensors come fully on line, and claiming to be cops is just the sort of trick corporate spies would pull, and...” 

“And showing up nude and handcuffed?” Margo inquired. 

Kat hid a smile.  She could play this game too.  “They were wearing sneakers,” she answered innocently.  

Kat could see that Margo was trying not to smile, although someone who didn’t know her as well would think she was still very angry. 

“Where’s Dr. Seaton, by the way?” Margo asked. 

“She’s, er, a bit tied up at the moment,” Kat answered, “Eve?” 

The screen before them split, one half continuing to show Margo in Seattle, the other the naked, hogtied, gagged, and furiously struggling Director of the “Gondaloo Marine Institute” in all her petite, freckled glory. 

“Oh do try to be original,” Margo looked at her watch, “I’ll be taking a sub-orbital flight to join you as soon as it can be arranged.  You’d better wind up whatever games you’re playing with Jamie, because she’ll need to pick me up from Cairns airport in a few hours.  If those two bound and gagged beach bunnies are cops, I’m going to have a lot of fences to mend.”  

The image of Margo’s face dissolved into a TESSERACT logo, which marked the beginning of a corporate video.  The screen showed footage of various TESSERACT facilities, while Eve provided a voice-over extolling their virtues. 

Kat turned around to face her captives, taking comfort in their futile struggles.  She smoothed the tape over their faces that kept the large rubber balls in their mouths.  As she did this, she tried to work out exactly what Margo was up to.  Kat knew better than anyone how Margo liked to play with people like pieces on a chess board, but she prided herself in the fact that Margo had always been straight with her.  When Margo gave her an open-ended instruction to kidnap the two women who were now bound and gagged in front of her, Kat didn’t ask her why, as she never felt the need to question Margo’s motives.  Now she wondered just what Margo’s real agenda was in this scheme. 

“Margo will soon get the truth out of you,” Kat gloated, quickly regaining her composure, and dismissing any doubts that lingered in her mind, “if you think I’m bad, you’ve seen nothing yet.  I’d better get back to Jamie—I don’t want her to think I’m neglecting her, just because I have two new girl toys to play with.”