Note: The misspellings are deliberate, to avoid offending… well, those who might take offense.
"Oh, Jayne-I can't tell you what a thrill it is to meet you," the heavyset woman gushed across the small table. "I think that Dr. Quin was such a great role model for those of us who are... well... 'past our prime'! If you could just write: To Edna-Don't worry, life doesn't end after forty!"
The pen, hovering over the glossy photo, paused for just a moment. Edna's gaze was fixed on the hand holding the pen, and thus missed the glowering look she was given by one brown eye and one green eye-- the mismatched eyes being one of actress Jayne Seymore's most famous characteristics.
"How nice," came the murmured response, in the clipped BBC-English tones the actress had worked so hard to perfect. As she signed the photo with her right hand, the left tossed over her shoulder her other best-known characteristic: the waist-length mane of shining chestnut hair.
As Jayne bent to sign the photo, the silky tresses sweeping across the table, her admirer breathed, "Oh, and I do use your shampoo and conditioner-- I don't want you to think I'm just some star-struck fan!"
Shampoo and conditioner. Supermarket openings. It has come to this.
"Nice to have met you." Jayne forced herself to smile as warmly as she could manage, and handed the photo back to the woman. The line of fans waiting patiently was disturbingly small, but at least it meant that it would be over soon. As Edna left with her treasure, her place was taken by an interchangeably dumpy-looking woman.
"Miss Seymore, you know, it is just SO wonderful to see how great your hair still looks,"...
I can't take much more of this...
"…and you practically a GRANDMOTHER!"
"That's it. Never again, no more!"
"Jayne, please," the voice attempted to be soothing, understanding, sympathetic, placating. A key part of the agent's arsenal, Sherry Talbott thought to herself. "It wasn't that bad."
"What the hell do you know about it?" Jayne Seymore angrily slammed a hand down on the coffee table that stood between their chairs. "Goddammit, I am not Doctor 'goody-fucking-two-shoes' Quin, and I sure as hell am NOT anyone's 'Granny'!", the actress snarled at her agent.
"Jayne, we've been all over this. You know that I-"
"I know you didn't get me a reading for The Avengers, and they gave it to that emaciated American bimbo!"
"Jayne, you know that your figure is in incredible shape for a woman of your age-" Dammit, I did it again! Sherry bit her lip.
"A woman of my age?" raged the actress. "What about The Thomas Crown Affair? I look better on my worse day than that Russo tart ever has!"
"Please," Sherry implored, "Jayne, I've told you that I just can't keep having this conversation with you."
"Then I'll find another goddam agent who won't NEED to have this conversation with me. An agent that will find me work!"
"Jayne, those shampoo endorsements bring in a lot of money-"
"I don't CARE about the goddam money! I don't
need another red cent to live for the rest of my life. I'm talking about WORK!
I'm talking about the kinds of roles I used to get. Remember East of
"But the image we're marketing here..."
"Screw the image! How many times do I need to tell you: I'm not Doctor Bloody Quin! I am as sexual as any actress working today." This time, her agent didn't even respond. "So, nothing to say? Good. All I want to hear from you is 'yes, ma'am,' when I tell you I want something, or you'll be out on your ass!"
The blonde woman regarded her client, standing before her desk, breathing heavily with her exertion. "All right, Jayne." There was a bitter tone in her voice. "You're the boss."
"Too right I am," the brunette sneered. "And, now, have you made the arrangements I asked for?"
"Jayne, I still think this is crazy."
"I'm not asking you to think, Sherry-you've either made the arrangements, or you're history!"
Sherry sighed. "Yes, Jayne, I have made the arrangements." For the first time, the agent looked her employer straight in the eye. "Once you give the word, there's no turning back.," the blonde's voice had a quiet ring of finality to it.
"Good," Jayne went on briskly, as though all she had heard was the word "Yes". "When will she be here?"
Sherry consulted her watch. "About twenty minutes."
"Fine. Let's get started, then." Jayne walked over to a framed magazine cover on the wall, and slid it aside, revealing a safe. She spun the combination with her fingers, and retrieved a small jewelry case. She tossed it on a nearby desk.
"Take this. Make sure it's well hidden somewhere. I don't want the insurance people finding any trace of it.
"Jayne, you said you didn't care about the money. Why risk the insurance fraud?"
"Makes a better story. Two hundred thousand pounds' worth of jewelry will catch the eye of even the most jaded editor. Now, get started." With that, the actress ripped the picture frame from the wall, and smashed it to the floor. "Come on, Sherry-help me ransack the place!"
"Shouldn't we wear gloves?"
"Sherry, you and I are in this room all the time. Our fingerprints are supposed to be here. THEY wore gloves!"
"And another thing, Jayne. Just how many of 'them' were there?"
"I should think three would be adequate," the actress responded as she kicked over a wastepaper basket. "Just remember, you never saw their faces-they knocked you out before you could get a good look at them."
"Are you sure you don't want the story to include them grabbing me, too?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Jayne snapped. "No one wants to read about you being attacked."
A doorbell rang. The two women paused, and looked at each other. Last chance to turn back, thought Sherry, but the look in Jayne's eyes made it clear that she wouldn't even listen to such a suggestion.
"All right, then, Jayne. I guess it's time. I'll go let her in."
"Now, you're sure she's good?"
"Oh, she's the best. I think we're going to find that her results will be VERY satisfactory."
"That's the spirit," Jayne gave a toss of her long hair, and nodded patronizingly. "It's good to see you've decided to really be a part of this little project of mine."
Sherry Talbott gave her employer one last, long look: the trim figure in the white silk blouse and black skirt; the face still almost completely unlined; the swirling tresses with no hint of gray-- how many women would kill to have all that this woman took for granted?
"Don't worry, Jayne," she said at last. "I fully intend to see this through." And with that, she left to admit their visitor.
Jayne returned her attention to trashing the office. After a few moments, she looked up to see Sherry and another woman standing in the doorway; clearly, they had been watching her before announcing themselves.
"Jayne Seymore, may I introduce Martine?" The woman standing with Sherry was a tall red-haired woman, dressed in a black spandex bodysuit with a light jacket thrown over it. She regarded Jayne with a pair of catlike green eyes that seemed to be drinking in every detail of the actress' appearance. As Jayne walked over with a hand extended, the redhead touched her parted lips with her tongue, and smiled broadly, taking Jayne's offered hand in both of hers; she held the grip somewhat longer than the actress had anticipated. Finally, after Jayne tugged a bit, the woman's smile narrowed slightly, and she released the hand.
"I don't believe I caught your last name," Jayne was a bit flustered.
"Oh, for professional purposes, I just use 'Martine'." The voice was a low purr.
"Ah. And just what is your profession?"
Sherry jumped into the conversation. "Martine here is a stuntwoman-one of the best!"
"Really." Jayne tried to recall if she had ever worked with her-unlikely, as she didn't seem the type you'd forget.
"I have never had the pleasure of working on your fine TV program," smiled Martine. "I'm afraid my assignments tend to be in films that call for more... ah... 'physical' acting."
"Oh, like falling off buildings, or driving through explosions? I guess we didn't really do much of that sort of thing on our show."
"Well, some of that sort of thing," Martine responded. "In addition, I do a little 'specialty consulting'."
At Jayne's puzzled look, Sherry said, "That's why I called on her, Jayne. You see, one of the things that Sherry, here, does, is to work with actresses who are going to be tied up as part of their role. Making sure it looks good without being too uncomfortable"
"Excellent," Jayne smiled. She turned to Martine. "You know, I did ask Sherry to find me an expert."
"Well," the redhead murmured, "If I say so myself, I'm pretty good at what I do."
"That's right," Sherry said. "Believe me, Jayne-you couldn't be in better hands!"
"All right, then, let's get started." The actress scattered a few more papers from the desk to the floor. "What shall I do first?"
"Well," the redhead glanced around the office. "Let me be certain that I understand the scenario. Three men break in here, knock out Sherry, force you to surrender the jewels in your safe, then tie you up. After that, they... um... have their way with you?"
"Well, they molest me. A bit of fondling and such, but no rape-- it's too hard to fake, and, besides, some people would find that off-putting. Remember," she began to lecture the two women, "the jewel robbery is just to give the papers a hook to hang the story on. The real titillation, of course, is that I was tied up. When this hits the papers, people will talk out loud about the daring jewel theft, but at the same time, the men will all be getting hard-ons, and the women will all be getting aroused at the prospect of some stranger doing this to them. You'll see-" she glared, now, in Sherry's direction-"by this time next week, I'll have producers begging me to take new, sexy roles in TV series or movies."
It was quiet for a moment, then Martine said, "Well, then, we had best get started."
Martine reached down beside her. "I've brought a few things..." she reached into a soft leather satchel. "Now, criminals who need to work quickly will often restrain a captive with some of this heavy tape." She flourished a roll of two-inch-wide gray industrial tape.
"No, I don't want to have to spend a week getting that out of my clothes or off my skin. No, they hold me at gunpoint, so they don't have to rush. That way, I don't need to be too terribly mussed up or manhandled."
"Hmmmm." Martine mused. "But you do expect us to put a convincing lump on Sherry's head, don't you?"
"Oh, that's different," Jayne snapped. "Come on, then, what else do you have?"
The actress shook her head impatiently. "Doesn't have the same ring to it. 'The actress was left bound and gagged.' That's what we're looking for."
"Well, I have some rope here-- it's actually a soft white cotton/nylon blend."
"Sound perfect." Jayne took hold of the front of her blouse, and ripped the top two buttons open. "This will make it look like real molestation." She then held her hands out in front of her. "Go ahead."
Martine chuckled. "Forgive me, you're the boss, but no criminal who expected to molest you would allow you to have your hands in front of you."
"Oh." Jayne stopped to think. "Well, that makes sense." She turned her back to the woman, and grasped her hands together behind her back. "All right, you can tie me up, now."
"Thank you." There was almost an ironic tone in the woman's response. Jayne felt her wrists then taken and laid across one another. The woman's hands were surprisingly strong-- Jayne could see why she was a successful stunt performer.
"You see," it was now Martine's turn to lecture, "we begin by crossing the wrists over each other."
Jayne felt the cord begin to encircle her wrists, now; it was soft enough not to abrade her skin, but the actress was surprised at just how unyielding it seemed. She tugged experimentally. "Sorry, didn't mean to interfere with your work, there."
"Oh," Martine responded. "Did you try to move? I hadn't noticed," and Jayne had to admit that she had felt no loosening of the rope-- or of the woman's grip.
"Next," continued Martine, "we isolate the wrists." Jayne could feel more of the cord being crossed back over the first loops. She remembered Martine's offer of using handcuffs-her hands now felt as though they were enclosed in some sort of rope handcuff, each one bound separately from the other. She flexed her hands, her fingers fluttering foolishly. She was interrupted from the testing of her bonds by Martine's hands on her shoulders, and Jayne found herself turned around as easily as if she had been a child. Over Martine's shoulder, she could see Sherry smiling oddly, but her attention was pulled back as Martine took hold of the front of her blouse, and ripped the rest of the front down, buttons scattering on the floor. Before the astonished actress could speak, the redhead had repeated the process with Jayne’s bra, which fell in two sections, exposing firm breasts to the chill conditioned air of the office.
"What the hell---"
"Much more convincing." Martine seemed almost not to notice Jayne's outburst as she studied the actress' front. "This is the way those beastly men would no doubt have left you," she raised her eyes to look Jayne in the face. "Don't you agree?"
"Well..." Jayne was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. "I don't know..."
"Miss Seymore, I don't intend to go to jail for this, and I doubt you want to, either. Please trust me-- I will make your performance as a 'Damsel in Distress' the most convincing one of your career."
Jayne felt foolish. Of course, this was a serious business, and it only made sense for the woman to try and make things look as realistic as possible.
"All right," she breathed. "What's next?"
"Oh, we're not quite done with the first part, yet." At Jayne's puzzled look, the woman went on. "We have secured your hands, but most of the strength you would use to free yourself comes from your arms and shoulders. It is important that we immobilize them, as well. Sherry-- " she called, "perhaps you'd assist me, here."
Jayne couldn't see her agent take up a position behind her, but in a moment, she felt her upper arms seized firmly, and at a nod from Martine, she could feel them drawn together behind her back.
"What? I-- wait-- ouch!"
"I know," Martine's voice was soothing. "It can be uncomfortable. However, it is the obvious thing for a man to do if he wishes access to your chest." Jayne followed Martine's gaze to her chest, and could see that the woman was right-- the action of pulling her arms together behind her caused the breasts to rise prominently.
"I think that's as far as they'll go," Sherry's voice came from behind.
"We'll see," responded Martine. "That will do for now."
Jayne could make nothing of the woman's remark, and was quickly distracted from considering it by the feeling of Sherry using some of Martine's rope to tie her upper arms together, above the elbows, which were closer to touching than Jayne would have believed possible. The actress gasped as her agent finished tying off the knot, and came to join Martine in front of her.
"Wow, Sherry, you're really getting into this," Jayne did her best to laugh.
"Well, Jayne" the blonde smirked. "If I'm getting a real knock on the head to make things look real, it wouldn't make sense for us to do a sloppy job on you, now would it?"
"I... I guess not." The actress sounded uncertain. "Do we tie my feet now? Shall I go sit in a chair?"
"We will move on to the next part when I say so." Martine's voice was sharper now. "I can still see the possibility of movement in your upper body."
Jayne hardly saw the possibility-she had been testing her bonds, and found that any sort of serious movement was rendered impossible by having her elbows bound as they were. There was no leverage, no way to pull with anything close to all her strength.
"Oh, well, I-- what are you doing?" Jayne stared as the redhead took more of the cord, and began looping it around her waist, reaching behind her to fasten her bound wrists to it at the back of her waist. Martine gave it a sharp tug. "Ouch-- my hair! Please-- it's getting tangled in the rope."
Martine smiled. "Oh, we wouldn't want that. Sherry!" The blonde came to stand in front of her client. She reached out both hands, and gathered the mass of Jayne's chestnut hair. For a moment, she just looked at her employer; Jayne began to feel a sense of unease at being handled so intimately. As Sherry held the hair out of the way, Martine began to work the encircling cord up higher on Jayne's body. After several turns which bound her arms to her back, the redhead pulled the cord up sharply under the helpless woman's breasts. Slowly, she wound a loop of cord around one breast, and Jayne watched in horror as her tit began to redden and swell.
"I think we're going a little too-- ouch!" Jayne was interrupted as her head was yanked back by the mass of hair held in Sherry's hands.
"Sorry," the agent giggled. "You moved."
By now, Martine had finished binding both of Jayne's breasts, and was gazing in frank admiration at her handiwork. "You know, you should make a point of have some of the 'crime scene' photos leaked to the press-you might be able to get some bra endorsements, along with your shampoo contract." Sherry had released Jayne's hair, now, and was smoothing it back into place.
Now, Jayne was desperately confused-she had been concerned that events were out of her control, but it seemed as though Martine was still thinking about ways to market her story. Maybe the woman had a point.
"You know--" Jayne began.
"Hush." Martine put a finger to the bound actress' lips. "I think, now, they gag you."
"Oh, all right." Jayne did her best to keep her voice light. "I could be sitting in the chair-- "
"They don't put you in a chair." Martine's voice was serious. "These men are not concerned with your comfort." She bent her head down toward Jayne's waist as she spoke.
"Well, they might-- hey!?!" Jayne jumped, startled, as she felt Martine's hand reach up under her skirt and rip her panties in half, pulling them off her. "Now wait a minute-- "
"You know, I have seen many of your movies and TV shows," Martine seemed not to notice Jayne's outburst, and was balling the panties up in her hand. "I saw the movie where you were bound and gagged-- a Sidney Sheldon story."
"Memoirs of ." The woman's comment was so unexpected that Jayne could only stare.
"Yes." She had the panties in a tight ball, now. "You did a very convincing job of sounding as though that scarf over your mouth was enough to keep you silent. It must have been difficult keeping the knot from sliding right off this fine hair of yours anytime you moved your head. "
"Well, I-- "
"You will see, now, how much more silent you can be." Before Jayne could react, the woman's hand darted out, and strong, slender fingers had pushed the panties into Jayne's open mouth.
"Uggghhhh!" Jayne coughed as she tried to adjust to the intrusion. The woman had pressed the fabric down onto her tongue; not only was Jayne revolted by the taste of the underwear she'd worn all day, but she was unable to get her tongue behind it to push it out!
As Jayne tried to work the cotton out of her mouth, Martine said, "You know, I think it is possible that these foul pigs would wish to have you gagged more securely. They might even use your manager's panties as well." Jayne goggled at the sight of Sherry presenting Martine with her own underwear, which the redhead then balled up and stuffed into Jayne's mouth atop the panties already there.
"Ugggghhhh!" This time, even to Jayne's ears, the sound was quieter, more muffled. The woman was right-- wearing a gag on television had been nothing like this. Now, Martine picked up the roll of heavy tape again. She glanced at Sherry.
"All the way around? Quite secure that way."
"No," the blonde shook her head. "Just across the lips, if that'll work well enough."
What the hell? Jayne thought to herself. Who put Sherry in charge of this?
"As you say," Martine said, and ripped a strip of tape from the roll. Jayne tried to move her head aside, but she felt Sherry take her hair again, gently but firmly, and hold her head still as the tape was plastered across her lips.
"Hnnnnnhhhhh!" As the tape was applied, Jayne's protests became quieter still. A second piece of tape joined the first, and a third and fourth crossed the other two; the lower part of Jayne's face was now a silvery "X".
"Looks good." Sherry had released Jayne's hair, and came to stand beside Martine. "I think the police will find this very convincing. Don't worry, Jayne," she laughed, "I'll make sure to 'play my part'." She turned to Martine. "Should I get hit in the head now?"
"I think we can save that for last. What do you think, Jayne-- shall we finish what we're about here, before I try to plant a bruise on your agent's skull?"
Well, if they're still asking my opinion... Jayne nodded, as authoritatively as she could. Glad they know who's in charge here.
Martine nodded, and without a word, cut more of the white cord, and knelt down in front of Jayne. The bound actress looked down and watched in queasy fascination as the woman tied her ankles together. They were tied more loosely than her wrists had been, but Jayne still felt in danger of overbalancing. She did her best to steady herself, and Martine put a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry. We won't let you fall." She nodded to Sherry, and to Jayne's astonishment, she felt the two women lift her up and deposit her face-down on the desk; Jayne squirmed as her exposed breasts made contact with the cold, polished wood.
Martine was now making the rope around her ankles tighter, and Jayne flinched as they collided painfully. As Martine finished, she held Jayne's feet off the desk, just high enough for Sherry to use more of the white cord to tie her thighs together, then her calves; for all its softness, the cord bit painfully into her legs, and she tried to tell her agent to ease off a bit, but was utterly unable to utter a sound louder or more intelligible than a soft moan.
Once her legs were thoroughly bound, Jayne felt her legs folded back on themselves, and her feet were pulled up her back to meet her hands. There, Jayne felt Martine use more cord to fasten wrists and ankles together. The knot was brutally tight, and Jayne hummed and buzzed uselessly through her gag. When she had finished the final knot, Martine let go of Jayne's legs, and the actress' bound body was left to stretch painfully, bound arms pulling against bound legs. She rocked in place on the desk, trying to find relief for her already-aching shoulders, but no position seemed to offer any real comfort.
Head down, Jayne's vision was obscured by her long hair as it pooled on the polished desktop. She threw her head back, to try and see, and looked up at Sherry and Martine.
The two women were looking down at her. Each wore an unreadable smile on her face.
Jayne strained against her bonds. It's time, now. Give Sherry a bruise, and call the police. She did her best to convey this, trying to make herself understood through the gag, and using what little mobility she had to nod her head in the direction of the phone.
For a moment, there was no movement from the two women. Jayne tried to move or gesture more emphatically, but soon found that she had reached the limits of her ability to move. Finally, Sherry walked over to the desk where Jayne lay hogtied. She reached down, but instead of lifting the receiver of the phone, she gathered up the long hair that lay spread across the desktop. She ran the silky locks idly through her fingers, Jayne's eyes widening at Sherry's incredible insolence at handling her this way.
"You know, Jayne," the blonde broke the silence, " a less self-centered woman than yourself would have figured out what was going on here at least twenty minutes ago. You, though," she playfully slapped Jayne across the face with the actress' own long tresses, "you're just so certain that you're in control, that you're the boss… that you never even noticed that things have… changed."
Sherry shifted her grip, now, to the back of Jayne's head, gripping a tight fistful of hair close to her scalp.
"So, how do you like someone else being in control, huh? Maybe you'll grow to enjoy it-- maybe it’s really what you’ve always wanted.” She shrugged. “Maybe not-- doesn’t much matter either way, though." She released her captive's hair, and stepped back next to Martine, as Jayne's brain spun with the insanity of it.
"I guess by now you've probably figured out that Martine isn't really a stuntwoman." Jayne began raging through her gag, but that served only to amuse her captors. "She comes by her expertise with ropes from an entirely different field." She nodded in the redhead's direction. "Martine, here, is what's called a 'Mistress', or sometimes a 'dominatrix'." The redhead bowed ironically. "She's quite good, isn't she?" Sherry then leaned down close to Jayne's face, again. "She's especially good at dealing with stuck-up bitches that think they're God's gift to the world. Isn't that right, Martine? You've seen the type before, haven't you: 'She's the Boss'. The rest of us are all 'Yes ma'am No ma'am Whatever you say ma'am.' Slaving away at a lousy ten percent to keep your name and face in the public eye, and getting no thanks for it-- thanks? Hell, getting nothing but abuse! Well, not any more!" The blonde's face was flushed as she hissed at Jayne. "From now on, 'Miss High and Mighty', you're going to learn a few things about humility-or, should I say, humiliation! God, the things I'm going to do to you-- " she broke off, panting. For a moment, she watched as the bound and gagged actress squirmed helplessly, trying to free herself. It was no use, though-- Martine had made certain that Jayne would not be going anywhere, or saying anything, until her captors chose.
Sherry took a deep breath, and exhaled. "But there's no point in getting worked up over it. We have all the time in the world."
She sat down on the desk next to Jayne, and again began to play with her captive's hair.
"You see, your crackpot publicity idea got me thinking. How about,
instead of your being robbed, you were to just disappear?" Sweat was now
stinging Jayne's eyes, as much from fear as from her pathetic exertions.
"What if the police were to find a letter, signed by you, indicating that
you'd had enough of the phony
She reached into a desk drawer and held a sheet of typed paper in front of Jayne's disbelieving eyes. "Took me most of a morning to come up with it. Forging your signature was easy-- I've worked for you long enough." She slid another paper atop the first: this one was clearly some kind of legal document. "It made the 'power of attorney' thing a piece of cake. That's right," she giggled at the despairing woman sobbing into her gag, "everything you own belongs to me, now." She lowered her voice, and again used her grip in Jayne's hair to lift the captive woman's face up to her own. "And, of course-- YOU belong to me, now, too." She held Jayne's face to hers for a full minute, watching the horror play across her captive's face as the full implications sank in. "Now, you'll get to see what it's like to serve a mistress that shows you no mercy-- turnabout is fair play!"
The gagged actress sobbed miserably, wishing she could somehow hide from the unbelievable fate in store for her, but the blonde’s fingers in her hair prevented her from turning her face away.
"Martine, here, has a place where I can keep you. It's especially designed for the housing and training of women who need to learn their place. You and I will spend long and lovely hours there together."
She turned to Martine and gave the redhead a soft kiss on the lips. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Martine smirked. "Always a pleasure to help a friend. So, are we ready to be on our way?"
"Well, before we go," Sherry said. "You remember Jayne's description of the crime we were re-enacting here? I think we skipped over the part about 'fondling and molesting'." She punctuated each word with a tug on her captive’s hair, then allowed her other hand to stray to Jayne's helplessly exposed breasts, as the actress’ mismatched eyes goggled, piteous whimpers coming from her stuffed mouth.
Sherry smiled at Martine. "Care to join me?"