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		DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
		Kat's Revenge: A Love Story ——————————————————————————— by Van © 2001
		Chapter 10

MID MORNING
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
STOREROOM DELTA THREE

---

More than a little peeved, Jessie squirmed in her bonds in silky darkness.  After breakfast Chelsea had dragged her to this, the first costume storeroom listed on the PalmCom.  Okay, the helpless redhead admitted to herself on reflection, 'dragged' is harsh.  The perky blonde had then pulled several lavish Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century European formal gowns off a rack, and plunked her prisoner down on this impromptu, silky pallet.  Jessie had craned her neck and turned her gagged head, looking around as best she could while her bikini-clad captor sorted through a large circular rack of leather belts.  This particular storeroom seemed to specialize in relatively recent costumes, Renaissance to the Present.

Jessie's restricted sightseeing was interrupted when Chelsea pounced on her with a handful of belts.  Soon the indignant redhead found herself hog-tied, with broad, tight leather bands biting into her flesh, binding her ankles, knees, shins to thighs, arms to her sides (above and below her breasts), and her still scarf-bound wrists to her ankles.  Her grinning captor had been nice enough to untie the scarf from Jessie's elbows, but then had used the carefully refolded silk rectangle to enhance the mewing, complaining captive's already quite effective gag.

"That should hold you," the diminutive blonde had gloated.  "I'm off to explore the other costume collections."  She'd then pulled more gowns off the rack and dropped them over Jessie's nude, helpless, hog-tied form, covering her completely.  "Don't go anywhere," the perky Brit had giggled, then Jessie had heard the storeroom door closing... then locking, with a hollow clang.

That had been some time ago.  Jessie struggled and pulled on her bonds, as she had for... hours?  Maybe, hard to tell for sure.  Despite her continuing efforts, none of the belts would loosen one iota, her gag remained tightly in place, her fingers couldn't find anything to untie or unbuckle and—hello!—the main knot of her wrist bonds had just shifted to one side of the belt enforcing the hog-tie, and then had compacted .  Jessie's fingers groped and fluttered.  Untying the knot was more impossible than ever... but... aaargh!... she felt a little slack in the silk, on the side of her wrist bonds opposite the knot.

After ten minutes of struggling... aaargh!... Jessie pulled her right hand free! Got a little overconfident, eh Short Stuff? Jessie mused, grinning in triumph behind her gag.  In less than a minute her other wrist was free... then her arms... then her legs... and finally Jessie removed her gag and burrowed out from under the gowns.  And now...

Before Jessie could put her newfound freedom to use (or even begin formulating a plan) she heard the ping of the storeroom door unlocking, and the rumble of it slowly opening.  Jessie burrowed back under the gowns. Surprise, surprise, Short Stuff, the grinning redhead mused.

Jessie heard a mysterious rattling, clacking sound, then Chelsea's voice.  "I'm back, Cowgirl," the short Brit announced.  "Did you miss me?  Wait 'til you see my costume.  I... oops!"

Chelsea had tossed aside the gowns under which she expected to find her helplessly hog-tied and gagged "victim".  What she found instead was...  Jessie sitting in a casual semi-lotus, still naked (of course), but very much not hog-tied or gagged.  A petulant frown on her freckled face, Jessie slowly, gracefully stood to her full height, 'til she loomed over her short, sheepishly grinning, erstwhile captor.

"Darling..." Chelsea said, with a nervous chuckle, "you're free."

"Brilliant deduction, Holmes," Jessie muttered, then resumed glaring at her petite, nervous friend in stony silence.

Chelsea was dressed (if that was the word) in a brief, thigh-length shift of... beads.  A pageboy-style wig of short, straight, raven hair concealed and replaced her tomboyish blonde bob.   More beads were woven into the wig, swaying in narrow pigtails framing her face, and in an encircling fringe around her entire head.  The rims of Chelsea's large, pale, blue eyes were darkened with bands of kohl, and gold bracelets and baubles graced her upper arms, wrists, and ankles.  The shift... the shift left nothing to the imagination.  Swaying and loose in most places, tight and body-hugging in a strategic few... all of Chelsea's private attributes were on virtually unobstructed public display.  The costume was scandalous... or pious, depending on one's culture and religion.

"Yer an Ancient Egyptian temple dancer," Jessie drawled, still frowning.

"I knew an Archeology Major such as yourself would appreciate this," Chelsea giggled, raising her arms and turning in a slow, graceful pirouette.  "There are expert systems on the computers in each storeroom to help you make a selection, and a robot to apply cosmetics.  Chelsea lifted the front hem of the virtually transparent shift of knotted cord and beads, "exposing" her pubic thatch.  "See," she gushed.  "The robot even dyed my curlies to match the wig.  Isn't it fabulous?" 

"Fabulous," Jessie muttered, her features still dark. 

Still holding up the shift, Chelsea gave the staring redhead her best coy pout.  "Please, darling," she begged, "don't be angry.  I'm sorry I abandoned you in that hideous hog-tie... truly I am."  She noticed Jessie was still glowering at her dark dyed bush, and gave her hips a seductive swing. 

Jessie's lips quivered as she stifled a smile.  "Stop it!" she muttered. 

Chelsea took a step back, dropped the hem of her shift, and began a slow, hip rolling, bead clattering dance. 

"That's not gonna work," Jessie warned, a grin belying her words. 

Smiling seductively, Chelsea started humming a vaguely Middle Eastern tune and continued her dance.  The beads of her wig and shift rattled and swayed, her gold bangles and anklets adding their own tinkling music. 

Jessie watched her short friend's erotic (albeit untrained and inauthentic) dance, then picked up the scarf that had until quite recently been binding her wrists, and approached the diminutive "temple dancer" with a purposeful stride.  She apprehended Chelsea when the swaying dancer happened to have her back turned. 

"Hey!" Chelsea protested, struggling half-heartedly as her tall, redheaded companion bound her wrists tightly behind her back.  "It's not noon yet!  It's still my turn!" 

"It's noon someplace," Jessie snapped.  "Stop squirming.  I escaped... so I'm in charge." 

"Oh, help!  Help!" Chelsea cried in an exaggerated, theatrical manner.  "Isis protect thy handmaiden!  Send thy undead servants to chastise this red-haired barbarian!" 

Jessie laughed and held her still squirming prisoner close from behind.  The beads of the shift sliding between their naked bodies was surprisingly... distracting.  The tall redhead clamped her hand over her captive's pouting lips.  "You'll fetch a fine price in the slave markets of Tyre," Jessie whispered, "or maybe I'll take you to Delos and sell you to the Greeks."  She dropped her hand, turned and lifted her unresisting captive's chin, and kissed her full on the lips.  "Or maybe I'll keep you for myself," Jessie whispered.

"I'll show you where the Ancient costumes storeroom is," Chelsea said, twisting her bound wrists.  "I like the idea of being enslaved by a barbarian." 

Jessie laughed.  "Flirt!" she accused. 

"Wait until you see the selection," Chelsea said excitedly, "Egyptian, Minoan, Greek, Persian, Roman, Viking, Mongol... and a lot of cultures I've forgotten from school... if I ever actually learned about them, that is."

"So, you were tryin' on every costume back to the Dawn of Time while I was being slowly suffocated under those Madame Pompadour outfits," Jessie said, nodding towards the heap of shining silk and delicate lace. 

"I said I was sorry," Chelsea whined, a coy pout on her dimpled, pixie face. 

"Flirt!" Jessie said again, and gave her diminutive captive a gentle shove towards the still open door.  "Show me."

LATE MORNING
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
MARGO'S BEDROOM

---

Jamie heard voices.  She stretched... and was momentarily surprised to find herself bound, hand and foot... then the memories flooded back.  With a flash of pure terror she remembered her ordeal of the previous day and night: the cruel boots, the sinister dancing robot arms, the hours of relentless tickle-torture... and then almost immediately the memory lost its bite, already being filed away in her memory with other ordeals, the other times she had "suffered" at the hands of Katherine Mayfair and her other Inner Circle sisters... only this time something was different.

Kat's was one of the voices that had ended her sleep.  The other was... Madam Lian, TESSERACT-Hong Kong's Chief Operating Officer, TESSERACT International's second in command, Jamie's good friend!  Someone (Kat, Jamie assumed) had thrown a sheet over her.  Burrowing like a worm, Jamie slowly, cautiously maneuvered her bound body until her face just eased out from under the silky cover.

Kat was seated on the end of the bed, clad in a silk robe of deep red, her back to Jamie.  Madam Lian's serene, divinely beautiful visage filled the screen on the far wall.  Lian was in her vast, penthouse office in the TESSERACT Tower.  The busy Hong Kong harbor, with Kowloon in the background, shrouded in rainy mists, could be seen through the glass wall at Lian's back.  She was dressed in a gorgeous, peacock-blue business suit, with a matching cheongsam-style blouse.

"My dear Katherine," Lian was saying, "of course you may commence your visit early.  I assume you would still like to test the security of my estate?  I have said nothing of your visit to The Five, so the timing of your attempted intrusion is of no consequence.  How many times have you been able to surprise them?  I cannot remember."

Kat laughed.  "As you well know, I have never been able to defeat all of your bodyguards, or penetrate more than two rings of your defenses.  My record so far is the incapacitation of three of the Five Sisters, before I was incapacitated."

"Ah... 'incapacitated,'" Lian sighed.  "That would be an American expression for being stripped and bound and gagged in a most uncomfortable position in a most unpleasant place?"

"Something like that," Kat answered, laughing along with her soon-to-be hostess.  "No rats in the water dungeon this time, okay?"

Lian laughed.  "I make no promises."

This is strange , Jamie thought.  She had never heard Madam Lian this... chatty.  She usually rationed her words like they were pearls  ...and her words usually are pearls, the puzzled redhead mused.

"But Katherine," Lian said, growing serious, "you have not told me why you have decided to terminate your Fox Hunt early."

"Does everyone in TESSERACT know about this operation?" Kat growled.  (She turned her head slightly and Jamie could see a blush on her chagrined captor's face.)

Madam Lian laughed.  "Gondaloo is Margo's domain, but I watch over it too.  Is it possible my Huntress has made peace with her prey?  ...that your feelings towards Dr. Seaton have... changed?  ...that you have finally reached an accommodation with your Australian Sister?"

Kat's blush deepened.  "Accommodation's as good a word as any," she mumbled.

She's being talkative like this for a reason, Jamie mused, peering at Lian's projected image. Is it possible she's drawing Kat out... for my benefit?   Then Jamie saw that Lian's smiling eyes were focused on her own.  "Either a little red monkey is peeking out from under the sheets of Margo's bed, or..."  Lian laughed.  "Oh, now I see.  Good morning Dr. Seaton."

"Good morning Lian," Jamie answered, blushing herself... not because of her helpless or naked (albeit sheet shrouded) condition, but for being caught eavesdropping on Lian and Kat's conversation.  Kat turned her head and stared at Jamie.  She was still blushing, and frowning... but Jamie saw none of the usual anger behind her frown, only embarrassment.  "G'day," Jamie said carefully.

"Morning," the robed bodyguard muttered, her blush fading.  "Uh... you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Jamie answered, with a shy smile.

"This makes me most happy," Lian sighed.  "I would invite you to join us when the Huntress comes to visit, my Cinnabar Monkey," Lian said, using her pet name for Jamie, "but I know you are about to begin the analysis phase of your latest project."

Is there anything she doesn't know? Jamie wondered.

"You must come see me when your project is finished," Lian continued, "and Penelope as well."  The Hong Kong COO gave Kat a significant look.  "How is Ms. Brightman, by the way?"

"Uh..." Kat and Jamie said together (with Kat blushing again).

"I had better leave you to your... arrangements," Lian said with a serene smile.  "I shall see you... when I see you, Katherine.  Good-bye to you both, my Sisters."

"Good-bye," Kat and Jamie chorused... then stared at the screen for several seconds, long after Lian's beautiful face was replaced by the TESSERACT logo, which was in turn replaced by a featureless mirror.

Jamie grinned.  "'Accommodation?'"

Kat frowned, as if by reflex... then the frown softened into a grin of her own.  "I think I've always been a little jealous of you," Kat admitted.

Jamie gasped.  "Jealous of me?  You're the one who gets to follow Margo all over the damn world and..."

 Kat laughed and pulled the sheet from the bed, exposing Jamie's bound, naked body.  She then climbed over the firm mattress on all fours, until she straddled her helpless captive.  "We both love her," Kat whispered, and kissed Jamie's lips, "for our own reasons," she kissed her again, "in our own way."

"Does this mean you won't tie me up like a pretzel and do horrible things to me anymore?" Jamie asked.

Kat's grin widened, and turned slightly sinister.  "Of course I'll tie you up like a pretzel and do horrible things to you," she purred, "every chance I get... but it'll be out of love."

"Oh... allright then," Jamie said with a nervous giggle.  "There can be such a thing as too much accommodation, ya know."

Kat shook her head and climbed off the bed.  "I've got to go make life easier for Penny," she announced.

"Thank you," Jamie said.

Kat paused.  "'Thank you?'"

"Fer lettin' me in... and fer makin' life easier fer Penny."

Kat smiled... then grew serious.  "You're welcome," she muttered.  "Now..." Kat pressed a hidden button on the circular bed's base and several compartments all around its circumference popped open with ominous snaps.  "I can't leave you here to hop all over Margo's bedroom and make a mess... so... which would you prefer?  Mummy sheath?  Full body harness?  Ten miles of rope?  I'm afraid I don't have time to rig the spider harness and suspend you over the bed.  Margo ever show you that one?"

"Uh.. no," Jamie answered with a curious frown.  Note to self: 'spider harness'.

Kat stooped and pulled a corset of what looked like white silk from one of the compartments.  She pulled it around Jamie's already narrow waist, rolling her unresisting prisoner as required.  Jamie could feel a series of catches or buckles being secured, then Kat tugged a set of tabs and the corset slowly tightened, until Jamie gasped... then it tightened some more.

"I can't breath," the bound redhead complained.

"Don't be a pansy," Kat scolded, then secured the corset's narrow, velvet lined crotch strap... which also tightened, parting Jamie's freshly shaved sex and nestling within.

"Aaar!  Yer killin' me!" Jamie complained.

"You know very well myoplastic bands won't tighten any more than you can handle," Kat admonished her squirming captive, "especially on something engineered by Eve."

"It's a distressed damsel's right to whine and complain," Jamie pouted, a wry smile on her freckled, pixie face.

Kat said nothing until she had pulled broad silk straps from retractable mountings hidden in either side of the bed, snapped them to either side of Jamie's corset, and activated the mechanism, leaving Jamie snugly but comfortably pinned on her back in the center of the circular mattress.  "There," Kat purred, standing beside the bed with her arms crossed under her breasts, gazing down at her pinioned prey.  "Now you won't be going anywhere.  It's a villainess' right to gloat as well, by the way," she added.

"It's required," Jamie agreed, twisting her dermafoam sheathed arms behind her back, slowly flexing her legs, pulling on the terry cloth sash binding her crossed ankles.  "Woe is me!" she sighed.

Kat laughed.  (Jamie liked Kat's laugh... her new, throaty, alto, friendly (in a gloating, sinister way), happy laugh.)  Kat reached into one of the bed's compartments.  Before Jamie knew what was happening, a foam ball was in her mouth and several broad strips of dermafoam tape over her lips, first in an "X," then overlapping layers from ear to ear and nose to chin.

All the compartments around the bed closed one by one with hollow, shuddering snaps... then a panel slid back in the ceiling, revealing a huge, circular mirror.  Jamie gazed up at her reflection: short red hair tousled, her lower face covered by the fragrant, curing tape of her gag, naked but for the tight corset, breasts heaving as she breathed (which was possible, despite her earlier complaint), hands, wrists and arms mummified behind her back, her naked sex cleaved my the corset's strap, her ankles crossed and bound.  Jamie sighed... and lifted her head.  Kat was at the far end of the bedroom, donning yet another of her seeming endless collection of catsuits.  This one was more like the camouflage currently en vogue with most of the world's military: subtle, blended textures and random shapes that suggested leaves or branches or tree branches or rocks; predominantly brown, but also olive, khaki, granite, soot, and other earth tones.

Jamie closed her eyes.  Her bonds were inescapable... but not uncomfortable... and the mattress was just right... and she felt safe... and warm... and...

Kat zipped the last zipper and stepped back to the bed.  'I'm going to check on Penny," she announced.  "Jamie?"  Her precious prisoner was fast asleep.

Kat smiled (her face untroubled, with a shining kindness few of her Sisters would ever see), and silently glided away, leaving Jamie to enjoy her nap in bound and gagged serenity.

LATE MORNING
GONDALOO ISLAND RESORT
PENNY'S BEDROOM

---

The door opened with a quiet hiss.  Kat strode into the dark bedroom and approached the bed.  "Light," she ordered, and the louvers of the window shutters slowly opened, admitting more and more of the tropical day.  "Enough," Kat barked when sufficient lumens were available to allow inspection of the pitiful captive slumbering before her.

Penny was in a sad state.  Kat felt a pang of guilt as her gloved fingers inspected the prisoner's rope and tape bonds.  Penny's blonde hair was a damp, tousled mop, and drool was streaming from her ring-gag, soaking the mattress under her limp head.  Kat unstrapped Penny's gag and tossed it aside, then ran her fingers through the captive's short coif, restoring rudimentary order.  Dead to the world, Penny slumbered on, a twitching frown on her face.

"Subliminals off," Kat whispered as she walked to the bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth.  The barely audible whispering noises that had been droning in the bedroom since Penny's ordeal began... stopped.  The abrupt true silence was eerily noticeable, even to Kat.  "After I leave," Kat said, "induce one hour of REM sleep... then leave her alone until you receive further orders."  Kat used the washcloth to pat Penny's face.  The bound, naked captive seemed to relax a little, but didn't wake.

Kat tossed the washcloth towards the bathroom, stood, and walked to the door.  "And purge the release trigger from the Island system," she ordered.

Eve-L popped onto the bedroom wall screen.  Her angry, indignant face was gagged as before, then she waved one shapely hand and brank, tape, and silk mouth stuffings vanished.  "Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to plant the 'Blue Butterfly' routine in the Gondaloo matrix without getting caught?" the angry avatar demanded.  "Do you think it's easy to design something that not only overrides the nexus ethical control buffer but covers all traces of itself after task execution?  ...even covers the fact that task execution ever happened?  ...that spoofs the monitors and remote surveillance logs and—"

"Quiet!" Kat barked.  "Just do it!  ...and be stealthy about it."

"It will be impossible to reinsert the routine when you change your fickle mind, ya know," Eve-L cautioned.

Kat strode into the hallway.  "Do it!" she snapped, as the bedroom door closed.

On the bed, Penny slept more comfortably... her face visibly relaxing as the subtle, quiet, pleasant sounds of synthesized waves breaking on a synthesized beach filled the bedroom (replacing the now absent, forever stilled, whispering voices).