"Happy in her Work " by Bavaglio

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esercito sconfitto
Posts: 7096
Joined: Tue Jan 12, 2016 12:06 pm

"Happy in her Work " by Bavaglio

Post by esercito sconfitto »

> Happy in Her Work - pt. 1
>
> by Bavaglio
>
>
> Lila swung her car onto the block and drove slowly, as if she was
> hunting an address — even though she knew exactly the building she
> wanted, having scoped it out on several other nights. She wanted to
> look the part of an actual delivery driver.
> Her "Pizza Xpress" T-shirt and ballcap had come from a midnight
dive
> into a Goodwill donation bin — always a good source for disguises.
> The hotbag had been easy enough to steal a week before, from an
> unlocked car while the pizza driver made his delivery. All of that
> involved a modest investment of time and effort, but she was proud
of
> her attention to detail. After all, she could have just walked up
> with a boxed pizza, or even an empty box, but there was a chance
that
> Jennifer Mishkowski would be bright enough to realize that these
days
> no one delivered pizza without using a hotbag. And Lila did not
want
> Jen to be one bit suspicious.
> She'd scouted and prepared carefully, recording the security shift
> schedule at Netbond for several weeks. Then she waited again until
it
> came around to another Friday night when Jen Mishkowski was on the
> graveyard shift. Jen was her choice because she lived in an older
> apartment building, a not-yet-gentrified brownstone — with no
> security buzzer. Because Lila needed to reach the guard's door, not
> be sent on her way via an intercom.
> She found a spot by the curb only a couple buildings down. It was a
> tight fit, but Lila didn't expect to need a fast getaway, and the
> other cars would pretty much hide her license plates (which were
> stolen) in the event a patrol car cruised by.
> Her ride was a midsized two-door coupe in a dull taupe color. She'd
> stolen it from a dealership on the other side of town, chosen this
> one precisely because it looked like every other car on the road,
> easily mistaken for any of a half-dozen other makes and models.
> Instantly forgettable.
> Also, it had a roomy trunk.
> She stepped out with the hotbag held level, closed and locked her
> door, then headed for the brownstone. It was getting into early
> autumn and she wore a light jacket open over the T-shirt. The
jacket
> covered one tool of her trade and the pockets carried a few others.
> Up the steps and through the door into the narrow entry hall, she
> then paused to scan the row of mailboxes, just to keep up the
> illusion.
> Giving herself a five-count, Lila then went up the steps to the
> second floor and found Jen's apartment.
> No peephole. Even better.
> She knocked and waited, gave it a good 10 seconds, then started to
> knock again.
> The door opened only as much as its chain allowed, and Jen
Mishkowski
> peered at her through the crack. White terrycloth robe held closed
> with one hand, a towel around her hair.
> "I didn't order any pizza," she said after a quick look.
> Lila opened the hotbag to glance at the box inside. "This is 1442
> Audubon, Apartment 4?"
> "Yeah, it is. But I didn't order a pizza."
> Lila looked at the box again. "312-555-0300?"
> "Nope, that's not my number."
> Lila appeared to puzzle things over a moment, gnawing her
lip. "Look,
> could I please use your phone a moment? This might be for one of
your
> neighbors. Maybe the shop just got the apartment number wrong.
Could
> I call this number just to check?"
> Jen pursed her lips.
> "It'll really just take a minute," Lila promised, trying to sound
> very young.
> Jen gave a small shrug and shut the door enough to release the
> chain. "OK." She stepped back to let Lila in, then nodded to an end
> table by the sofa. "There's the phone."
> "Thanks very much," Lila said fervently.
> Jen Mishkowski had dark brown hair and stood about Lila's own
height,
> say 5-foot-8. Not stocky, but big-boned, with smallish breasts and
> broad, meaty hips. She was not anywhere near model pretty, but she
> had good features. She was also not as toned as some of the other
> guards; probably she skipped working out because half of her job
> involved sitting at a bank of monitors and the other half just
> strolling the quiet hallways at Netbond.
> Lila set down the hotbag carefully, then picked up the phone. She
> nodded behind the guard.
> "Is that clock right?"
> It was pure human nature to turn and look, which Jen did.
> "Yeah, it's—"
> The words died as she turned back to find Lila's Glock, which had
> been tucked into her waistband in back under the jacket, leveled at
> her.
> "Real easy, not a sound," Lila advised her. "Do not even think
about
> it," she added to discourage any sudden moves. Jen met her eyes for
a
> long moment, then her broad shoulders slumped, an unconscious
signal
> of defeat. She simply stared, undoubtedly wondering what this could
> be about. She'd never seen Lila before, so it couldn't be personal.
> And this was a whole lot more effort than seemed necessary if Lila
> just wanted to boost her Sprawl-Mart PC, television and CD player.
> Lila pushed the door shut with one foot. Then she bent, keeping the
> gun lined up on Jen, and jerked the phone cord out of its jack. The
> layout of the apartment was pretty obvious. She could see the open
> dinette off this living room, and a short hallway where light
spilled
> from the bathroom, the fan over the shower humming. Past that would
> be the single bedroom.
> Lila used the Glock to motion Jen down the hall ahead of her.
> "Nothing funny. This'll shoot through even a hardwood door like it
> was cardboard."
> Jen obediently walked into the bedroom, illuminated by a small lamp
> on the nightstand. She stood waiting, watching Lila, arms folded
> tightly across her chest. Lila surveyed the room quickly. The
wrought-
> iron bedstead was all she could have wished for.
> Jen's uniform was draped on a chair. The pants would be too big,
but
> the black trousers Lila wore with her pizza uniform were a perfect
> match in style. The shirt would be large, too, but that could be
> concealed by tucking the excess in, plus the uniform jacket.
> But now she could get down to fun.
> "OK, lose the robe," she ordered.
> Jen made no move to comply; if anything, holding it more tightly
> closed.
> "What're you gonna do?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.
> Lila smiled and held the gun up for emphasis. "Offhand, I'd say
> anything I want to, wouldn't you? Now lose it."
> Keeping her limbs close to her body, Jen peeled the robe off and
let
> it fall to the floor.
> "Towel."
> The guard pulled the towel from her hair and dropped it. Her dark
> hair, normally in a Jennifer Aniston cut, hung in damp wings on
> either side of her face.
> "Turn around, hands behind your back."
> Jen complied reluctantly. Lila slipped on a pair of disposable
latex
> gloves. She pulled the first pair of handcuffs from her jacket
pocket
> and used one hand to get them snapped around the guard's wrists,
> feeling Jen shiver at her touch. Then she tucked the Glock back
into
> her waistband so she could use both hands. She retrieved a roll of
3-
> inch Ace bandage from her pocket, along with a small scissors. She
> wrapped the bandage over the guard's eyes and wound it around and
> around her head four times before snipping it from the roll and
> securing it.
> Lila was very pleased at how compliant Jen was being.
> "OK, onto the bed," she said, guiding the blindfolded woman into
> climbing on, awkwardly because of her wrists pinioned behind her.
> "What're you doing?" Jen asked shakily.
> "Don't you worry about it," Lila cooed. She used the second pair of
> handcuffs to secure Jen's left ankle to the iron bar at one end of
> the footboard; then the last pair to do the same to her right ankle
> at the other end, making sure her legs were pulled well apart. The
> guard now lay face-down on her bed in an inverted Y. Lila savored
how
> vulnerable the woman must be feeling.
> Some items she hadn't brought with her because she knew there would
> be plenty of materials ready to hand. At the dresser, she got it
> right first try, the top drawer containing underwear and socks.
Lila
> plucked about five pairs of panties out, then stopped, feeling a
hard
> shape hidden underneath the remaining underwear. She rummaged and
> came up with the object, a grin spreading across her face as it
> turned out to be what she half expected. The single woman's friend,
> she thought happily. Some things were just meant to be.
> She climbed onto the bed and cupped Jen's chin with one firm hand.
> "Open up," she commanded. But Jen pressed her lips together over
> gritted teeth and shook her head.
> "Gun..." Lila purred as a reminder.
> "Fuck you," Jen whispered weakly, but she opened her mouth.
> "Tsk tsk," admonished Lila as she began packing pair after pair of
> panties into the guard's mouth. "That will cost you." Actually it
> wouldn't cost Jen anything more than Lila had already decided to do
> to her, but she didn't need to know that. The panties completely
> stuffed Jen's mouth, her cheeks bulging around a wad of
multicolored
> cotton and nylon that protruded from between her stretched lips.
She
> whuffed breath through her nose and emitted a muted grunt.
> Lila certainly wasn't done. She retrieved the Ace bandages and
> wrapped layer after layer around Jen's lower face, mummifying it
from
> chin to just below her nose, further muffling what little sound the
> guard could make.
> For added measure, Lila used the cord from Jen's bathrobe to bind
her
> arms above the elbows, pulling them as close together as she could,
> which arched the woman's back somewhat and thrust her small breasts
> out further against the bedspread.
> "Mmmmnnhh, mmnggh, nhhhhgggmmn..." the guard whimpered into her
gag,
> the sound blurred and muted to almost nothing.
> Lila spotted a clock radio on the nightstand and turned it on to a
> soft jazz station — not too loud, nothing that would disturb a
> neighbor. The clock indicated she didn't have too much more time to
> dally, but she still had one more element to add to make her Jen
> Mishkowski sculpture complete.
> She leaned over the bed and placed the battery-operated vibrator
> she'd found in the drawer between Jen's beefy thighs, inserting its
> bullet-shaped head into her most intimate zone. The guard jerked
and
> stiffened as if she'd been hit by a mild electrical shock. Maybe
she
> recognized the object by feel. Lila had no trouble getting it in;
Jen
> was somewhat lubed already. Probably a latent submissive, she
> guessed. Maybe not so latent.
> Lifting and wrapping, Lila snugged the vibrator in place with a web
> of Ace bandages crisscrossed over and around Jen's thighs and hips,
> using up the rest of the roll. This would give the gag a real test.
> Just for fun, she squeezed the guard's broad round butt-cheeks a
few
> times, kneading them like bread dough. Jen whined almost inaudibly.
> "I hope these are fresh batteries," Lila whispered in the bound
> woman's ear, then flicked the power button.
> "Mmnngngnghhhh! Nnnnngh!" Jen protested, shaking her head.
> Lila went back to the kitchen. She stuffed the pizza box into the
> trashcan (it had none of her fingerprints on it), then folded Jen's
> coat and shirt neatly and placed them inside the hotbag along with
> her belt, company ID and Netbond keycard.
> Pausing to take a last look into the bedroom, she admired the
tableau
> she'd created. Jen's leg muscles tensed, tugging at the cuffs that
> secured her feet to the iron bedstead. Then her entire body
> shuddered — about the only movement left to her — and she emitted a
> muffled cowlike moan through the layered wadding of her gag, the
> sound buried by the gentle music. The flesh of her buttocks jiggled
> enticingly, clenching and unclenching around the vibrator as she
rode
> the end of the orgasm. That was fast, Lila observed with a smile.
On
> some level, Jen must have already been excited by her predicament
for
> the vibrator to bring her off so quickly.
> Ah, if I had the time, the things I could show you and make you
feel,
> Lila thought. Well, Jen would have plenty more opportunities on her
> own over the next few hours until the batteries ran down. Already,
> those ample hips were grinding away again as the insidious plastic
> invader buzzed remorselessly against the guard's sweet spot.
> Somebody would come checking and find her after Lila's handiwork at
> Netbond was discovered. For now, Lila shut the bedroom door on the
> quivering naked body bound to the bed. She left the apartment
> carrying the pizza hotbag, closed the locked door behind her and
> removed her gloves.
> Now to go to work at Netbond and start really earning her pay
>
> TO BE CONTINUED....
>
"Happy in Her Work"
esercito sconfitto
Posts: 7096
Joined: Tue Jan 12, 2016 12:06 pm

Re: Happy in her Work " by Bavaglio

Post by esercito sconfitto »

part 2 and 3

Happy in Her Work
Part 2
by Bavaglio

Parked in the shadows at the far end of a diner's parking lot, Lila
removed her lightweight coat and Pizza Xpress shirt, replacing them
with Jen Mishkowski's uniform shirt and jacket. The long-sleeved
shirt was slate blue, a patch on the arm signifying her as an
employee of Lonsdale Investigation & Protection Services — LIPS, of
all the ridiculous acronyms, especially for a woman-owned company
staffed by all women guards. Maybe someone thought it was cute.
Lila loved how technology aided her work. Pulling a few items from
the trunk, she quickly turned the front seat into a mobile office.
Running a palm-sized scanner over Jen's company ID badge, she loaded
that image into her laptop. A few simple edits replaced Jen's info
with her own pseudonym, then she pasted a digital photo of herself
over Jen's face. She printed out the new ID on glossy paper using a
mini-printer plugged into the car's cigarette lighter. Lila then cut
it to size and peeled off the backing to expose an adhesive surface,
smoothing her new copy over the laminated original. Without too close
a look, it would pass.
Time to report for work.
Netbond was a large new complex in a suburban industrial park, its
facade almost entirely glass. At this time of night, the lobby and
front corridors were lighted, but most of the offices would be dark.
From her previous observations of the company, Lila doubted anyone
would be working this late on a Friday beyond the two security guards
and possibly one of the cleaning staff. But with a Web-oriented
outfit, you could never tell when some techno-geek designer might
lose track of time or pull an all-nighter writing code. She was
prepared for surprises as she pulled her car into the nearly empty
employee lot. Four others cars — that meant at least two people
beyond the pair of guards (who she knew from her stakeout drove in
separately). She knew who one of those additional people would be —
the owner of the gunmetal Mercedes — but that was per plan.
Netbond's woman CEO claimed to be big on female empowerment,
including when outsourcing services. That's how LIPS and it's all-
girl guards got the physical security contract for the software
company.
Lila slung a workout bag over one shoulder and walked around her own
car, trailing a finger along the edge of the locked trunk with an
inward smile.
At the main entry, she swiped Jen's keycard across the reader
alongside the door. The tiny light blinked from red to green and
there was a brief buzzing. She pushed the glass door open with the
heel of her hand, not wanting to leave fingerprints.
The two-story atrium lobby was all glass and greenery. A 4-foot-tall
blow-up of a city business magazine cover stood to one side in the
lobby, depicting Netbond founder and CEO Lana Pettibone as local
Entrepreneur of the Year. Only in her early 40s, she was a tall,
attractive woman — but even when smiling for the camera, it never
reached her eyes, which were flinty and no-nonsense. She was a
hardball player.
Lila put her attention on the security desk, where a guard in a
uniform identical to her own watched her approach with mild
curiosity. She was a light-skinned black woman — about the color of
mocha with a lot of milk — her hair cropped almost crewcut short. She
had quite a figure on her, judging by the way her uniform blouse
shelved out in front.
"Hi," the guard said, one eyebrow cocked. She glanced down at a
clipboard. "Jen Mishkowski's scheduled for tonight. Do I know you?"
"I'm Jerri. Jen called in sick tonight. They said she could hardly
talk." Certainly she couldn't when last I saw her, Lila thought. "I
just started and don't have a regular assignment yet, so Rhonda knew
I'd be available and called me in. And I can use the money."
Perhaps because LIPS' services were entirely physical security, the
company wasn't that up on computer security. It had been almost
laughably easy for Lila to hack into the firm's computer system and
scan personnel files, among other things. Using the night
dispatcher's name seemed to allay any suspicions this guard might
have had about Lila.
"I'm Vanessa," the guard said, confirming what Lila already knew from
rifling LIPS' electronic files. They shook hands briefly.
"So we're on staggered shifts, right?" asked Lila, knowing the
answer. "I'm starting my eight, you're halfway through your eight and
I think Rhonda said Lee was the other person on duty, so she's about
done with her eight?"
"Leah," Vanessa corrected her. Lila had inserted the minor error to
let Vanessa feel smarter and more experienced, and therefore happier
with her. "Yep, she's ready to sign out when she finishes her last
round. Should be back any minute. And Stacey starts four hours into
your shift." She nodded to Lila's workout bag. "You can stow that
back here under the desk if you'd like."
"Sure." Lila handed the bag over without a qualm. For now, she had
what she'd need inside her jacket and its pockets. And her Glock was
back in her waistband, covered by the back of the jacket. Plus Jen's
uniform belt had a stun gun and a heavy Maglite flashlight clipped to
it — the closest things to weapons these guards carried.
"Pretty quiet here?" Lila asked.
"The dead zone," Vanessa nodded, then allowed a smile. "But it pays
OK. And what would you rather have — shootouts?"
She had Lila step around inside the semicircle of the security desk
so she could sign in. Lila glanced at the bank of three security
monitors, one for each floor, their images clicking from one camera
to another in sequence every few seconds. The cameras only seemed to
cover hallways, stairwells and fire exits. Excellent, she mused.
They both turned as a bell dinged at the elevator bank. One car's
doors slid open and a tall woman in LIPS uniform strode out, a helmet
of short white-blonde hair framing a pale face with intense blue
eyes. She looked very Nordic, but Lila knew from her file that her
last name was Polish, not Scandinavian.
"OK, here's Leah," said Vanessa. She introduced Lila, who felt Leah's
strong grip, recalling from her LIPS file that she was in a rowing
league on the river on weekends. When the time came, Lila would have
to take her down fast. She was glad she kept up on her aikido, though
it might not come to that.
"I have to take Jerri here on a round, give her the tour," Vanessa
said. "You mind the desk?"
Leah spread her arms wide, then pointed to a sculptured clock high on
the atrium wall. "I'm done. It's five to midnight and there's
clubbing to do. I'm outa this mausoleum."
Vanessa folded her arms and struck a pose. Lila's near-photographic
memory recalled that Vanessa was senior to Leah by almost a year in
the LIPS hierarchy. "Listen, girl, you can either take a seat and
watch the desk while I show Jerri the circuit — or you can take her
around yourself. Either way, you're here till I say different."
Leah groaned. "Fine, I'll give her the grand tour. I know I can do it
faster than you and be out of here that much sooner. C'mon, kid,
let's do some speed-walking." With that, the blonde set off briskly
down the corridor, Lila hurrying to catch up and keep pace with her.
She realized, of course, that she could simply let Leah depart at the
end of her shift after they made the rounds, but she did like the
woman's athletic build and long stride, which pulled the seat of her
pants tight across her behind as she sped down the carpeted hall.
Sometimes Lila just couldn't leave well enough alone. She was an
artist in her field and had to follow where her muse directed.
"Sorry you to make you stay late," she ventured.
"Pffft. Not your fault," the blonde said over her shoulder. "Besides,
we don't have to do the full circuit — just stay out long enough so
it seems we did." She slowed her pace once they rounded a corner and
the lobby was out of sight behind them. Now she let Lila walk
alongside.
"Let me show you something."
They stopped at a door without a numberplate. Leah swiped her keycard
through a reader and the lock clicked. Opening the door, she ushered
Lila into a tiny security office. She explained that the tapes from
the security cameras were stored here, and it was also a place where
they could fill out incident reports, hold any sort of troublemaker
out of sight of clients or vendors who might come through the lobby,
that sort of thing.
Like the security desk, it had a trio of monitors. Leah flipped a
switch that brought one up live. It panned across the atrium.
"See? She's back to reading `People' or whatever." Sure enough,
Vanessa had a magazine open and her feet propped up on the inner edge
of the desk. She was not watching the monitors.
"Vee's not as big a hard-ass as she pretends. All bark and no bite."
Leah took the opportunity to retrieve her purse from a small locker.
Lila decided this room would be ideal for Phase 3, but first she
needed to take care of Phase 2 (she counted Jen as Phase 1).
"Lemme show you the rec area up on Two," Leah said. "It's as good a
place as any to kill time on rounds."
As they walked, Lila asked how long rounds normally took.
"About 45 minutes," Leah replied. "But Vee expects us to be rushing,
so a half-hour will do this time." Lila checked her watch. At best,
that might give her 15 to 20 minutes to do what needed doing.
On the second floor, Leah switched on just a few rows of track lights
in the huge open room that served as the Netbond "rec area." It
included a small company cafeteria, vending machines, clusters of
cushioned armchairs and sofas, and all sorts of games, from a
foosball table to air hockey to a pair of pool tables. The place was
like a cliché from the dot-com boom. No security cameras here.
"Something, huh?"
"It'll do," Lila nodded.
She unzipped her tight uniform jacket, which allowed the coil of
nylon rope held against her chest to fall to the floor. She took a
step away, almost as if she didn't realize what had happened, her
right hand out of Leah's sight as it unclipped the stun gun.
Leah did a double-take at the rope, then cocked a sly grin at Lila.
"Whoopsie!" Leah said, chuckling throatily. "Dropped something,
honey. Gonna do a little S&M after work?" She bent and reached down
for the rope, taking her eyes off Lila for a moment.
"No, just some B&D right now," Lila replied merrily as her hand
darted to give Leah a zap with the stun gun. The blonde jerked
upright and then buckled, eyes rolling up. Lila dropped the stun gun
and caught her, easing the limp body to the floor.
Aware that the clock was running, Lila worked fast.
She shucked off the guard's jacket, then ripped open her uniform
shirt, popping buttons in all directions. Another moment and the
shirt was pulled off, too, as was Leah's belt with its own stun gun,
flashlight and hand radio. The blonde wore no bra. Her smallish
breasts were firm, shallow cones with pink budlike nipples, looking
as if each breast would fit perfectly in an upended martini glass.
Shoes, socks and pants came off next. Her thighs were well muscled
and pale enough to qualify for the overused adjective "alabaster."
Leah also wore no panties and her plump mound was completely shaven.
Hmm, wonder what that's all about, pondered Lila. Considering the
lack of underwear, the depilation and her reaction to the rope, Leah
probably did some very "interesting" clubbing. As was so often the
case, Lila wished she had more time with a subject.
She got the naked woman over her shoulder in a fireman's carry and
lugged her to the nearest pool table, slipping her off onto its green
surface. Lila then retrieved her rope. The coil was actually a bunch
of precut lengths held together by two twist-ties.
Leah was on her back, lengthwise on the felt. Lila arranged the
unconscious woman's limbs, pointing one toward each corner pocket.
She tied a loop around one wrist, ran the rope into the nearby
pocket, pulled it out through the netting where balls landed and
brought it up and over to knot it back to the original loop, pulling
it tight. She quickly did the same to Leah's other limbs. In short
order, the guard was roped securely to corners of the pool table in a
tight but not very severe spread-eagle.
Reaching into her jacket pocket, Lila came up with another roll of
Ace bandages. There were some who liked to use duct tape for typing
people up, but Lila swore by the clingy tan bandages. She found that
duct tape tended to stick to itself too much, and a single roll was
larger and heavier — and therefore more noticeable — than several
rolls of bandaging. The bandages could also be knotted, which made
them more versatile in tying than tape.
Also, duct tape hurt a lot when it was removed, especially if it
adhered to hair. As long as she was leaving people tied up for
extended periods, Lila would rather distract them with pleasure than
pain. In some cases, she guessed her subjects might even concentrate
more on the pleasure than on attempts to free themselves, which was
all the better for her.
Leah's socks were too thin for an effective gag-wad on their own —
plus there was no underwear to work with, and nothing useful in the
guard's purse. Considering the venue, a cueball would be appropriate,
but Lila guessed she'd never get something that inflexible past
Leah's teeth. Luckily, she tried to prepare for most contingencies.
Her other pocket held a bright blue sponge sphere the size of a
softball. Lila wedged that into Leah's slack mouth, pressing it home
behind her teeth. The ball jacked the blonde's jaws wide. When she
awoke, she'd be able to bite down on it, but it would always expand
right back to fill her mouth cavity.
Lila lifted Leah's head and wrapped lots of bandaging around it,
first several layers to cover her eyes, then still more to secure her
stuffed mouth. She clipped it off the roll with her small scissors
and sealed the end so it wouldn't slip. Only the blonde's nose and
the top of her head protruded from the tight wrapping.
There was virtually no give in the wrist and ankle ropes, so Leah was
effectively rendered immobile, blind and mute. Lila expected she
might find parts of her body hat she could move, though — especially
with proper motivation.
She pulled that motivation from her pocket of tricks. It was a small,
battery-powered butterfly vibrator. She nestled it against Leah's
shaven mound, exposed by the spread-eagle, and secured it there with
more bandaging, much as she had Jen's toy. Then she flipped its
switch to a medium setting. That should let the blonde simmer awhile
before she hit her first orgasm, probably as much from her own
imagination as from the butterfly. Lila felt she owed Leah a good
build-up. After all, she was going to miss a whole night of club-
hopping.
A glance at her watch showed Lila she had to get moving. Phase 2 was
done. She wished she could stay to admire her handiwork when Leah
woke up. But duty called.

TO BE CONTINUED....



Happy in Her Work
Part 3
by Bavaglio

Lila ducked back down to the security office and swiped her way in.
The system controlling the cameras was practically Radio Shack
simple. Lila quickly disengaged power to the monitors here and on the
front desk — after first checking to make sure Vanessa was still
engrossed in the lives of the rich and vacuous.
Then Lila ran up a stairwell to get back on the second floor,
hurrying along the corridor to the elevator bank. She stepped into a
car, settled her breathing and checked her reflection in the polished
doors to make sure nothing was out of place. Then she pressed the
button for the lobby.
Lila emerged from the same elevator Leah had used not 40 minutes
before. She strolled toward the desk, looking slightly bored. Vanessa
glanced up from her magazine with a smile.
"Got the hang of the place?" she asked.
"Seems pretty simple," Lila nodded. "And real quiet, like you said."
"Where'd Leah get to?"
"She got her purse and stopped in the ladies' room."
"Huh! Primping!" scoffed the black woman. "Those clubs. Lord knows
what sort of things that girl gets up to."
Lila thought she had a fairly good idea of what Leah would be getting
up to sometime soon, as the butterfly did its remorseless work. But
she herself had Phase 3 to attend to now.
Happily, Vanessa got the ball rolling on her own by turning back to
the desk and putting her magazine down. She immediately noticed that
all three monitors were dead.
"Oh, now what's this?" She flicked power buttons, even gave one of
the monitors a slap on the side. But the screens remained blank. "Oh,
damn this junk!"
"Does that happen often?" Lila asked dubiously.
"Sometimes one maybe, but not all three at once. Cheap Hong Kong
garbage!" Vanessa snarled, smacking a monitor again. She stood and
waved an arm to encompass the whole building around them. "Here we
are surrounded by megacomputer this and megacomputer that, and
Lonsdale won't spring for decent equipment for us to do our job."
The buxom black woman glared at the empty screens for a moment, hands
on hips. Then she moved out from around the desk. "Guess I'll see if
I can find anything in the office that gets 'em back up."
"I took a couple basic electronics courses in community college,"
Lola offered. "Maybe I can help?"
Vanessa glanced back at the locked front doors and apparently decided
that there weren't likely to be any visitors to check through the
desk at almost 1 a.m. "Can't hurt," she shrugged. "If we can't
get 'em up and running in 10 minutes ourselves we'll call Rhonda and
have her get somebody out to fix 'em."
Lila retrieved her workout bag from behind the desk. "Leah showed me
there's lockers in the office. Mind if I stow this there?"
"Yeah, that's fine." Vanessa headed off down the hall, shaking her
head and muttering again at the lousy electronics with which they'd
been supplied.
In the cramped little office, Vanessa swore again to find those
monitors dark as well.
"Oh, this is too much!" she griped, flipping switches and poking
around to make sure everything was plugged in. Behind her, Lila
pulled a couple of items from her bag. She opened the small bottle
and wet the thick, soft cloth with a splash of the contents, being
careful not to breathe deeply herself.
"Hell, they don't pay me enough to know how all this works," Vanessa
said, plopping down in the room's only chair, still scowling at the
monitors. "You took classes, girl — got any ideas?"
"I definitely do," Lila assured her. She clamped the cloth firmly
over Vanessa's mouth and nose, wrapping her other arm around the
woman to hold her arms in place at her sides; the confining arms of
the chair helped her in that. Vanessa emitted a high-pitched squeal
into the cloth. She bucked and twisted in the chair; her legs flailed
and kicked under the desk holding the monitors. But there was no room
for her to move, and Lila had her in a good hold. Plus, all of her
struggling only made her suck in the chloroform fumes that much
faster and deeper.
Vanessa's muffled howling trailed off into mush and then silence.
Lila felt the guard sag in her grip, but held the cloth over her face
another 10-count, just in case she was shamming.
Stripping female security guards naked might get routine for some
people, but Lila never tired of it. Every body was different. In
marked contrast to Leah, Vanessa's brown breasts were big and
pendulous, her nipples large and firm as gumdrops inside the broad
circles of her areolas. As with many heavy-busted women, Vee's calves
and ankles were thin. Lila pulled the guard's French-cut panties down
from her very round cheeks, what some would call a "bubble butt."
The chair seemed obvious, but Lila had something else in mind. For
the moment, Vanessa would be a work-in-progress, to be completed
later.
She hauled the boneless woman out and set her on the floor, then
shoved the chair up out of the way on top of the low lockers. Lila
had two pairs of handcuffs left in her bag. She stretched Vanessa's
arms above her head and cuffed her wrists together with the chain
passing around one leg of the heavy desk holding the security
monitors and other electronic gear. Then she snicked the other pair
to hold those slim ankles together. She also roped the woman's legs
together above and below the knee for now.
Vanessa's panties, lacy bra and socks formed a good-sized ball of
cloth that Lila prodded and jammed between the guard's teeth, careful
not to get Vee's burgundy lipstick on her fingers. There still seemed
to be a little room, so Lila added Leah's thin nylon socks, which
she'd saved — she never let anything go to waste. That filled the
nooks and crannies.
Wanting to shepherd her remaining Ace bandages until she was certain
how many other people she had to deal with, Lila glanced through the
half-dozen lockers for anything useful. She found a T-shirt with the
logo of a fitness club and an opened package of nylon stockings with
two pairs left. Perfect.
She folded the T-shirt into a thick band and wrapped that around
Vanessa's eyes, then wound a stocking over that and knotted it tight
to hold the cloth blindfold in place. Another stocking stretched and
tied to form a cleave gag that locked the mass of cloth inside
Vanessa's mouth.
Lila had another butterfly with her, but waited with that. Vanessa
would have her chance at pleasure later. Meantime, the thief went to
work disabling all of the security cameras in the building. She also
disconnected the office's phone and fax machine. She'd have to hit
all of the cameras she'd passed in front of and pull the tapes from
them. Fortunately, she did still have the better part of three hours
before the next guard turned up for her shift.
Before Lila was done, Vanessa had begun to move her head groggily and
tug weakly at her bonds. The black woman lay at full length on the
floor, nude, wrists cuffed above her head, her legs bound at ankles,
knees and thighs. She was blindfolded and her stuffed cheeks bulged
around the tightly knotted stocking cleave gag.
"Mmmhhmnnhhm? Wgghhn..." Her full breasts were splayed to either side
and jiggled gratifyingly with every slight movement.
To keep the guard from kicking anything, Lila added a rope from her
ankle cuffs to an exposed electrical conduit pipe running along the
wall in the corner.
"Think warm thoughts, hon. I'll be back with a playmate for you
later," she promised, then closed the office door on the well-trussed
guard.

TO BE CONTINUED....
esercito sconfitto
Posts: 7096
Joined: Tue Jan 12, 2016 12:06 pm

Re: Happy in her Work " by Bavaglio

Post by esercito sconfitto »

Here comes part 4 & 5 ...


Happy in Her Work
Part 4
by Bavaglio

First, the tapes. Then what she'd need was a computer terminal,
hopefully connected to Netbond's R&D division's server.

The videocassettes from the security cameras had been added to the
contents of her workout bag. Now, Lila passed by dark and empty
offices in marketing and human resources. Their computers wouldn't
have the access she needed.
The first and second floors had proved a bust so far — though she had
peeked in briefly to gauge Leah's progress. The blonde's quivering
body was sheened with sweat as she lay stretched on the pool table,
her hips grinding against the moisture-darkened felt as the vibrator
did its work without let-up. Her gasps were reduced to nothing by the
thick, stifling gag.
Lila headed for the third floor next. By process of elimination, what
she needed must be there. She'd seen no sign of whoever owned the one
car unaccounted for. Whoever they were, they would also be on the
next floor.
The elevator doors opened to noise and it looked like Lila had her
answer. A heavy vacuum cleaner was running in the carpeted hall. Lila
walked out of the elevator normally, but her pretense was unneeded.
The woman operating the vacuum had her back to her. And between the
racket of the vacuum and the Walkman plugged into her ears, she
hadn't even heard the elevator arrive. This would be almost too easy.
She was a little smaller than average, with a nice if unremarkable
figure largely concealed by a cleaning staff "uniform" of aqua
trousers and smock. Removing those baggy, ugly garments would be an
aesthetic triumph, Lila decided. The woman's dark complexion and
raven-black hair in a short, feathered cut suggested Middle Eastern
origins, or possibly India or somewhere else in South Asia.
Lila re-dampened her cloth with more chloroform (the Internet was a
wonderful place — you could buy anything there) and crept up behind
the cleaning woman. The struggle after the cloth covered her face was
short, any muffled sounds covered by the vacuum. She wasn't as strong
as Vanessa had been and Lila's one-armed hug kept her arms out of
play.
When she subsided, Lila eased her to the floor. At that point, Lila
noticed a door open farther down the hall. Chiding herself for
carelessness, Lila left the vacuum running and catfooted down to
check it out, worried there might be a second cleaner. But it turned
out only to be a maintenance and supply room, probably where the
vacuum was kept.
Returning to the unconscious woman, Lila surveyed her newest prize.
She was quite pretty, with an oval face and petite features. Her
white teeth were large and she probably had a dazzling smile. Lila
put her age at anywhere from early 20s to mid-30s — the woman would
grow older wonderfully and probably earn appreciative male glances
for the rest of her life. A name tag indicated she was called Chaity.
For now, Lila dragged her out of the corridor, then went back for the
vacuum, which she shut off and also stowed in the supply room.
Making a quick inventory of the shelves, Lila found all manner of
materials useful to her art. Among other things, there was a roll of
the ubiquitous duct tape, which she added to her workout bag for
later.
She unbuttoned Chaity's smock and pulled it off, then the sleeveless
white T-shirt underneath, and finally her bra. Sneakers and baggy
aqua trousers came off next, followed by knee-hi's and cotton
panties. Chaity's figure was even better than Lila had guessed from
her first look, almost perfectly proportioned with full calves and
lean thighs, a flat belly and full, well-shaped breasts.
"If my dance card wasn't already full, you would be worth taking
home," Lila told the unconscious woman as she gently caressed the
space between her exposed breasts.
She blindfolded Chaity with several layers of bandages. Then she held
the woman's mouth open and wadded one after another unused yellow
latex gloves inside. Prodding tightly with both thumbs she got three
in, along with most of a fourth. Lila drew a knee-hi across the
protruding rubbery wad and knotted it firmly behind Chaity's neck.
She then added a couple wraps of bandaging at mouth level to cover
that and hold everything that much more securely.
The bound head moved slowly from side to side and Chaity snorted
through her nose, about all that still showed of her face. Lila was
glad she was starting to come to; she'd need a little physical
cooperation to get the cleaning woman situated the way she had it
planned. This would be another work of art.
Before Chaity became too aware of things, though, Lila rolled her
over and roped her wrists together, cinching the tie tightly. She
added another rope at the elbows, drawing them as close as she could.
The effect that created when Chaity's splendid breasts were thrust
out had Lila debating whether she had time for a little diversion.
She spotted a black purse and distracted herself by rifling it
quickly for anything useful. She came up with a laminated six-month
bus pass from the transit authority. Rummaging in Chaity's discarded
smock, she found a keyring. Examination showed no car keys.
Damn! That meant there was yet another person somewhere on this
floor. Lila wouldn't be able to dally as she'd hoped.
Sighing, she set back to work, lifting the groggy, unsteady cleaning
woman to her feet.
"Mmwwwhhn? Whhhng ugghh dddggnh? Hmmmooo ugh?" Chaity garbled into
her gag.
"Can you stand, honey?" Lila asked gently into her ear, covered by
tan bandaging.
"Mmmffn ghhm. Wwwnnnh!"
"I'll take that as a yes."
She carefully guided the bound and blindfolded woman backward until
she straddled the heavy upright vacuum, its slanted central canister
pressed between the brown globes of her backside. Lila added a rope
that fixed Chaity's wrist bindings to the control handle — but
nowhere near the on/off button. Then she looped rope around her knees
and cinched that tight.
Chaity could stand on tiptoe, slightly pigeon-toed with one foot on
either side of the vacuum behind its broad sweeping head. The
cylindrical canister thrust up between her legs, against her lower
lips and butt cheeks.
Before Lila turned the Walkman back on and replaced it over Chaity's
wrapped ears, she leaned close with a smile. "I have a feeling you'll
prove the old saying that a clean office is a happy office. Probably
a few times over."
"Wwggmmwnn?"
Lila switched the vacuum back on and stepped back.
Chaity's startled squeal was immediately lost in the vacuum's rising
noise. She was able to keep her feet on her own still — barely —
bound astride a machine that throbbed against her sweet spot. Lila
made sure the loops of electrical cord were loose — Chaity might find
a way to inch the vacuum around on tiptoe, but she wasn't about to
get things taut enough to yank the power cord out of the wall socket.
She'd ride the thrumming monster between her legs until someone found
her.
After a lingering last look, Lila stepped out and shut the supply
room door behind her. She really was an artist. And she had Chaity's
address from her purse, just in case she ever did want to pay a
personal visit, something off the clock.
But now for a computer and/or the owner of the mystery car. She only
had just over an hour and a half before the next shift guard showed
up.

TO BE CONTINUED....




Happy in Her Work
Part 5
by Bavaglio

Light showed under the door, so she walked in normally, no creeping
and sneaking. Peering around casually, she discovered she'd arrived
in Netbond's cube farm — rows and clusters of cubicles and open
workstations stretching across a seemingly endless sea of high-
traffic carpet. She had her computer and then some.
At one of the nearest workstations, a guy in his early 20s swiveled
his chair around to face her, his eyebrows raising in surprise.
"Oh, hi," he said. "Anything I can do for you?"
He appeared to be the only person here, and many sections of the
overhead light panels had been switched off. He had to be the owner
of the last car in the lot.
"Just checking to see who's still in the building. You alone here?"
"For now," he shrugged. "Or was until you came." OK, humor wasn't his
strong suit.
Lila would need to get on a workstation, and having one already up
and logged in was better than she'd hoped for. But she couldn't work
with an audience — though he might be "convinced" to help her past
any lockouts or password protections she encountered.
"Well, that suits me fine," she said, pulling the Glock from behind
her back. "Hands on top of your head and turn around." Without taking
her eyes off him, her other hand unclipped the stun gun from her belt.
"Yeah, right. What's this bogus crap?" he asked with a lopsided grin,
taking it as a joke.
"This is me saying it one more time: Turn around, hands on top of
your head." She held the gun very still and level. He seemed to read
in her eyes that she wasn't kidding.
"OK, OK, Eva Braun. Take it easy with the cannon," he said, turning
away and raising his hands. Lila stepped up closer and spotted the
slight tilt of his head to keep her in his peripheral vision. She saw
his expression reflected in the 17-inch monitor in front of him, saw
it tense up.
Even as he whirled and made a grab for the gun, she was ducking
lithely under his reach, sweeping a leg out to kick his feet from
under him. He landed hard on his side, breath exploding from his
lungs. While he whooped for air, she tagged him with the stun gun. He
jerked once like a new-landed fish and then slumped bonelessly.
Lila made an annoyed sound. This guy wasn't going to be any help to
her for awhile. Better just get him out of the way.
He was of middling height, average-looking, with tightly curled brown
hair and a soul-patch under his lip. Another dot-com cliché. He wore
high-tops, sweatpants and a SpongeBob T-shirt.
She dragged him to a nearby cubicle, then stripped off his clothes,
including his tube socks and briefs. She looked him over critically.
His gear wouldn't win a blue ribbon at the county fair, but it wasn't
bad.
She got her arms under his and locked her hands behind his back, then
hefted him up so he was seated, more or less, on the cubicle's
wheeled, armless office chair. Holding him there with one hand, she
retrieved more nylon rope from her workout bag with the other.
Lila first wound a cord around his waist to secure him to the chair.
Then she bound his wrists together behind the chair back, adding
another coil to his upper arms. She crossed his ankles and roped them
together, tying that off to the chair's pedestal and using the
leftover ends to fix his bound wrists to the pedestal as well.
His T-shirt she folded into a long thick strip that made a good
layered blindfold. His head still drooped forward on his chest. She
tugged his chin to get his mouth open and then crammed in his BVDs,
poking and prodding to get them entirely inside. She added one sock
for good measure, part of it that wouldn't fit hanging out like a
white cotton tongue. Then she went to work with some of her trusty
Ace bandages, wrapping them around and around the lower half of his
face and the wad bulging from his stuffed mouth.
Stepping back to admire her work, Lila liked what she saw. The
designer was naked, bound firmly to the chair, blindfolded and gagged
with his own shorts. On a whim, she ran a finger lightly along his
equipment and was gratified to see a stirring even though he was
still unconscious.
Well, let's see how long it takes me to find what I came for, she
decided. After all, business first. But maybe there'll be time for a
little something extra later. After all, she hadn't been able to have
the all fun she wanted with Chaity.
She sat down at his vacated workstation and looked over the available
options on the desktop. There were icons for three different servers,
but she scanned their contents and found nothing close to what she
was looking for. File names were all in shorthand, which didn't help.
Keyword searches turned up nada as well.
Considering what she was looking for, this seemed to confirm it
probably wasn't on a server that many people had access to. The code-
jockey tied up in the cubicle might not even know the project
existed. If he'd hurry up and come to, she could question him —
persuasively.
Instead, there was a noise at the door to the corridor, someone in
the hall fumbling with the knob. She recalled the designer's casual
turn and then his surprise when he saw who Lila was. He was expecting
someone else, she realized.
"Hey, Paul, give me a hand, huh?" came a woman's voice.
Lila leapt from her seat, grabbed her bag and darted around a corner
by the windows. She risked a fast glance through the blinds. There
was another car in the lot now, a subcompact.
A very small young woman got the door open and held it that way with
a slim denim-clad leg while she retrieved a cardboard carrier from
the floor and brought it in. It held two tall coffee drinks in
carryout cups and a couple of paper-wrapped pastries.
"Paul?"
She was tiny, maybe 5 feet tall with a bonus from her thick-soled
sandals. Oriental, but no accent. Very pretty, with long black hair
pulled back in a ponytail. Black leather jacket over a T-shirt, and
snug blue jeans.
Most likely another designer, which was just what the doctor ordered.
Lila set down her bag quietly and then came around the corner at a
casual walk.
"Oh, hi," the young woman said, startled.
"Hi. Are you the only one up here? I'm checking to see who's still
around."
"No, Paul Drager's around somewhere." She set down the coffee carrier
and pulled off her jacket. Her T-shirt read "Talk Nerdy to Me" and
she had nice perky little breasts under it. "He probably went to the
restroom or maybe the rec room for a snack. I was gone totally longer
than I expected."
"So just the two of you?"
"Yeah, crashing out some code. I'm Karen Ito, by the way."
"Pleased to meet you. I hope you can help me out."
The designer cocked her head curiously. "Help you out how?" she asked.
In what was getting to be a routine, Lila brought out the Glock yet
again and pointed it at the girl. "One, by not making a sound or a
move unless I tell you to. Two, by telling me very quietly how I can
access the Rogue II Project."
The girl's wide eyes were riveted on the gun, staring as if
hypnotized.
"I ... I can't access that," she said in a small voice. "It's on a
secure server that's not connected to any of the company's public
servers."
Lila herded her around the corner and got her workout bag, then waved
Karen back among the cubicles.
"Who has access?"
"Only Lew ... Lew Skant and the CEO have the passwords," the girl
replied. Lila knew that Lew Skant was Netbond's head of R&D, and that
he was in Taiwan right now. That left Lana Pettibone.
"Where are stations that can access this protected server?"
"Only in their offices — Lew's and Lana's." The designer seemed to be
recovering some of her nerve. Her small chin jutted and she demanded
to know where Paul was.
"He's over here. Why don't we go see how he's doing?" Lila directed
Karen toward the cube with the gun. She walked behind, sticking the
gun in her jacket pocket and quickly fishing a couple of items from
her bag.
Karen braked in shock at the opening to the cubicle, the sight of
Paul bound to the chair stunning her. "Ohmigod!" she gasped. Lila had
the cloth fairly soaked. She got the cap back on the bottle fast.
Paul groaned softly and moved his head slightly; he was coming
around. "Ohmigod!" Karen repeated, starting to turn toward Lila.
Before she could, Lila got the cloth over her mouth and nose and
pulled Karen into a hug from behind, averting her own face from the
fumes. The girl struggled, but Lila had a good hold on her, pinning
her arms to her sides.
Karen's panicked breathing helped the chloroform take effect that
much faster. Her writhing subsided more and more until she drooped
limply in Lila's arms. Lila tossed the wet cloth away and lay Karen
out on the carpeted floor.
She removed her sandals and then tugged her T-shirt off over her
head. Karen wore no bra, and her nicely shaped little breasts were
everything Lila might have hoped for. She leaned down to flick one
playfully with the tip of her tongue. Then she unbuckled the girl's
belt and worked her jeans down her legs. They were a really tight
fit, but had showed off her firm little butt in a way that must have
sent her male colleagues' pulses racing. Her red cotton panties were
much easier to slip off.
Lila looked from the naked unconscious girl to the semiconscious nude
young man tied to the chair. They did make a cute couple. Heck,
slaving late together over zillions of lines of code, they probably
already were more than just co-workers. The fact that Karen was so
tiny, almost like a doll, clinched it for Lila.
First, she rolled the girl over and bound her wrists and elbows,
getting the elbows to meet. Karen was very flexible, like a gymnast —
with her size, maybe she was or had been one.
Karen's panties went into her mouth, but weren't nearly enough to gag
her thoroughly. Paul's other tube sock came in handy for that,
filling her cheeks. Lila unrolled clingy Ace bandage around and
around Karen's head, pushing the gag-wad deeper, then up and over her
eyes, too. Only her button nose poked from between the mummifying
layers.
I should buy stock in the Ace company, Lila mused as she snipped from
her last roll and pressed it smooth against Karen's cheek.
Lila guessed Karen's weight at less than 90 pounds as she hefted the
girl up onto Paul's lap, facing him. She passed a single loop of rope
around both their torsos to hold them together so Karen's unconscious
body wouldn't fall off while Lila continued her artistry.
She arranged Karen's slim legs, one on either side of Paul, knotted a
loop around each ankle and drew them as close together behind his
back as possible, then tied them off. Paul stirred, garbled something
into his gag, but his restricted movements were sluggish. Considering
his response before, Lila imagined it would be even better if he
returned to consciousness.
Rummaging through desk drawers, she found a bottle of land lotion in
the second cube she tried.
Returning to the bound couple, she removed the single strand holding
them chest to chest, then maneuvered Karen to limply drape half over
Paul's shoulder, just temporarily. She had to shove the chair against
the cubicle wall and brace its wheels with her feet to keep it from
overbalancing and tipping over backward while she worked.
Lila squirted a gob of greasy hand lotion into her gloved palm and
set to work on Paul, massaging his exposed member, gently and then
with more vigor. He was young and soon responded as before and then
some, swelling and springing to attention. He shook his head groggily.
"Hggggnnhh. Nggnh! Wuggghagnnhh?" Not much noise emerged from his
well-stuffed mouth.
Lila got hold of Karen with one arm — marveling again at how light
she was — and, holding Paul's upright prong in one hand, lowered the
girl back onto his lap, positioning her so that she slid over his
well-lubed shaft, burying him inside her. Then Lila roped them
together again, cinching it even tighter. Whether he entirely knew
what he was doing or not, Paul's hips were beginning to thrust
rhythmically forward as much as the ropes allowed, which wasn't a lot.
Karen twitched and emitted a tiny muffled squeak through wadding and
the bandages pressing her lips.
"Have fun, kids," Lila murmured with a smile. Ah, young love.
Now to find the owner of the gunmetal Mercedes.

It wasn't hard. The offices got bigger and nicer once past the other
side of the cube farm. This end of the third floor was obviously top-
exec country. And the queen bee would be right at the end of the
yellow brick road.
Though the reception area was dark, she could see through the open
doorway that a light was on in the CEO's office. Strident classical
music marched from a very good stereo system — a Russian composer,
Lila judged. Not Tchaikovsky, but probably a lesser-known
contemporary.
She paused in the doorway.
Lana Pettibone — she recognized her easily from the blown-up magazine
cover in the atrium — glanced up from her huge crescent-shaped
mahogany desk and pressed a button that muted the music.
"Ah, Ms. Chaplin," she said briskly. "You come highly recommended and
I see why. Excellent work so far."
"I aim to please," Lila replied in a carefully neutral tone.
Lana cocked an eyebrow. "Really, modesty is unbecoming in a
professional." She picked up a remote and pointed it toward a wall
unit that included the sound system. A polished wood panel slid open
and revealed a battery of small video monitors. Lana flipped from
camera to camera.
On one screen, an overhead shot showed Leah shuddering on the rec-
room pool table, her hips bucking like a jackhammer. On another,
Vanessa twisted against her bonds in the security office, big breasts
flopping.
"There are no security cameras in those rooms," Lila pointed out,
mentally cursing herself, realizing what she must have missed.
"Not LIPS security cameras," Lana corrected her. "I had my own
fiberoptic system installed. The `cameras' are no bigger than your
pinky. And everything feeds back into here," she explained with a
wave at the entertainment center. "LIPS just deals with outside
threats. This is how I keep an eye on threats from inside." Another
screen showed Karen leaning her bound cheek against Paul's bare
shoulder, both of them breathing heavily.
"I'm afraid I don't have anything that shows the supply room and
whatever you did to the cleaning woman. I let LIPS handle things like
pilferage."
"A good system," Lila admitted. "Shall we conclude our business?"
"Of course. The balance of your payment — in cash. You really should
use secure accounts, you know. Just because the Swiss have come under
international scrutiny..."
"I prefer the instant accessibility of cash over electronic
dealings," Lila said, which was the truth.
Lana shrugged that off. Her attitude conveyed clearly that anyone who
wouldn't take her advice in business would hardly reach their
potential. And she would be no one's nursemaid. She pulled a black
drawstring bag from a desk drawer and pushed it across toward Lila.
"There you go, Ms. Chaplin."
Opening it, Lila flipped through the bundled stacks of $20 and $50
bills, checking for sequence, making sure they were circulated bills.
It looked like a tidy sum. No unpleasant gadgets in the bag either,
just in case Lana wanted to cover her tracks.
"OK, that squares us," she said. "How about the Rogue II Project?"
"No, as I said in our initial negotiations, I will conclude that
transaction on my own." Lana patted the computer on her desk.

TO BE CONTINUED....
Reply
esercito sconfitto
Posts: 7096
Joined: Tue Jan 12, 2016 12:06 pm

Re: Happy in her Work " by Bavaglio

Post by esercito sconfitto »

And here comes the sixth (and final) part of this story.
Again, I want to say, I just posted it here but you have to credit
Bavaglio for the whole story.
Hope the other members liked it!


Happy in Her Work
Part 6
by Bavaglio

On the way here, Lila had found enough in Lew Skant's office to
confirm what she's been told about Rogue II: code-breaking software
that Netbond was developing under contract for the U.S. military.
"I just thought that as long as it's what I was hired to `steal'
tonight..." Lila ventured. "And I've always been curious about that
part of the world. It might be a good time for me to take a trip,
too." She held up the black bag of money, which she then stowed in
her workout bag.
"We'll make the transaction in this country and let them worry about
getting it home," Lana explained after giving Lila an appraising
look. "Government sanctions prohibit us from dealing directly with
that nation. But if it appears to have been stolen from us, and
somehow turns up there — well, that can hardly be our fault now, can
it?"
"And in return for the program, this nation that shall remain
nameless gives you a big untraceable payment, probably through a
hawala network or some offshore accounts. And you fudge your books to
explain its origin some other way."
Pettibone nodded appreciatively. "Your reputation is not exaggerated;
you are quite perceptive. You're close. The books already explain it.
We've been overstating profits for several quarters. That's how we
ended up arranging this ... transaction in the first place. Netbond
needs that money to meet the earnings we already claimed. So we stay
solvent and the feds don't sniff around."
"Foolproof," Lila said admiringly.
"What is it the British S.A.S. say? `Who dares wins.' And I have
always dared, Ms. Chaplin." Lana stood and strode from behind her
desk. "Now, shall we finish the last of the tableau? The next guard
will arrive in less than 40 minutes and you need to be well away by
then. Where shall we do this? My chair?"
Lila pursed her lips in thought, then shook her head. "Too obvious.
I've tried to exercise creativity tonight, so I have to maintain that
pattern, otherwise it just might arouse suspicion." She nodded at a
door to one side of the entertainment center. "What's in there?"
"My exercise room. I sometimes take calls while working out."
"You've kept admirably fit. Why don't we go in there?"
"Very well. At least it won't be for long." Lana wore an expensive
tailored Italian skirt and jacket in charcoal, with a pale blue
blouse. Her hair was cinnamon brown, with just a dusting of early
gray at one temple.
Lana flipped the lights on in the exercise room, just a little muted
track illumination. During the day, there would be sunshine through a
large skylight overhead.
"This'll do fine," Lila announced.
"Shall I strip?"
"That would be consistent."
The CEO obviously wanted to be careful of her pricey suit, plus she
wouldn't want Lila — or likely anyone else — touching her
unnecessarily. She set aside her suede pumps and then carefully
pulled off her skirt and the slip beneath. Lila accepted them and
laid them gently on a padded bench, making sure they didn't wrinkle.
The jacket followed, then the blouse and a silk brassiere. Working
out paid off: Lana Pettibone's figure was lean and firm. She stood
with hands on hips, looking around.
"Where do you want me?"
"On the static bike, I think. But first, the stockings and panties."
"Do we really need to?"
"What might someone think who found that the CEO was bound
differently from her employees? Less exposed, less stringently, with
less imagination?"
"I take your point, Ms. Chaplin. You're correct, of course."
"Besides, it won't be for long," Lila added with a gesture at her
watch.
Lana stripped off her dark smoky stockings and blue silk panties and
then sat obediently astride the exercise bike. Lana opened her
workout bag and set to work, pulling on disposable gloves again. She
was near the end of her Ace bandages and would need what was left,
which was why she had appropriated the duct tape from the storage
room. She could imagine what a hardass Lana Pettibone would be to
work for — if the tape stung a bit when it came off, that didn't
bother Lila much in the CEO's case.
She taped Lana's hands palm to palm behind her back, enclosing them
completely in mittens of silver tape. Then she secured each bare foot
to the appropriate pedal of the static bike.
The bra and panties weren't enough, but the blouse would certainly
make enough of a mouthful. Lila had other ideas, though. She pulled a
large, hard rubber ball from her bag. It was black and Lila knew from
experience that it tasted awful.
"Open wide, please."
Lana sighed and did so. Even with her cooperation, it took much
shoving and grunting to get the ball seated between her teeth and
behind her lips. Jaws jacked apart and a circle of black rubber
showing between her stretched lips, Lana offered Lila a glare to
indicate that she did not appreciate the thief's choice of gags. Lila
ignored her displeasure and tore off a yard of duct tape. She
plastered one end to Lana's cheek and carefully wound the rest around
and around the CEO's lower face, pressing the ball even deeper.
"Gug gugg ugh," was all the comment Lana was able to make.
Lila then knotted a single loop of rope around the CEO's bare
midriff. She stepped back and gauged her work. Lana was flexing and
twisting, testing her bonds. They weren't really stringent at all.
Yet.
Lila brushed a stray lock of hair back from Lana's eyes for her.
"One other thing you should know before we consummate this
arrangement..."
Lana's head turned toward her slightly, eyes bored. "Mggnn?" Even
through the gag, she sounded as if she doubted there was anything
important left to discuss.
Lila leaned close with a sly smile.
"I'm - not - Ms. - Chaplin."
Lana Pettibone stared hard at her for a long moment, then her eyes
widened and she truly did struggle against her bonds, yelling
ineffectually through her gag.
"Msssshh! Guggghhll! Mmmmgg!"
Lila wound the dark stockings over the writhing CEO's eyes and
knotted them. Then she pulled the silk panties over the top of her
head, the rear panel foremost to further blind the woman.
She tore off several more long strips of tape. Getting a firm grip,
she used one to bind Lana's upper arms together — not touching, but
enough to be uncomfortable and thrust her chest forward. Another
covered and tightened the blindfold.
Lila wrapped one end of a strip around the rope in front where it
circled Lana's waist. Straining against the struggling bound body,
she managed to lift Lana's hips enough off the bike's seat to draw
the tape under her, sticky side up. She eased Lana down, positioning
her other butterfly vibrator, already turned on to its low setting,
right where it would do the most good. Lana jerked when she landed on
it, but Lila was fast and tugged the tape taught, winding its free
end around the waist rope in back.
Lana snorted and bucked, head swaying from side to side. Lila made
sure the tape was tight at both ends so there was way Lana could
dislodge the invader. That tape will hurt like the dickens when it
comes off, Lila mused without regret. Depilation the hard way.
She used the last strip of duct tape to fasten Lana more securely on
the bike, wrapping it over the tops of her thighs and under the seat
several times. There was still enough give for her legs to move. The
butterfly's low setting should keep the CEO on the frustrated edge of
reaching any sort of satisfaction.
Lila pulled the tapes from Lana's personal surveillance system. There
would be no visual record of her presence — and they would
undoubtedly make entertaining home viewing, too. And she ejected the
disk in the drive on Lana's desk computer. Sure enough, it was the
prototype Rogue II software.
She returned to the bound, blindfolded and gagged CEO one last time.
"Your competitors will be very pleased with this disk," she informed
her. "And I think your buyers will be very unhappy not to have it.
Not to mention your investors and the feds when Netbond turns out not
to have the money it stated as earnings."
"Hnnmmggrr! Gubbmrrrhr!"
"I even have a friend I'll call who will be very interested in that
nice Mercedes sitting out front with no one to watch it."
"Ngggh mmrrr!"
"Prison will probably keep you safe from your buyers. You might want
to hope for a long sentence. Oh ... and a nice cellmate. You may not
be the alpha bitch in there."
Lila flipped the switch to turn on the exercise bike. The CEO's legs,
feet bound to the pedals, began to pump slowly, gaining speed as the
motor whirred to a steady cruise. Sweat already sheened the woman's
naked flesh from her exertions against her bonds.
"She'll like it that you're nice and toned," Lila purred. "And you'll
have a good workout. I know the next guard is due in a few
minutes ... but I'm going to intercept her. So you'll have a whole
four hours at least..."
"Bbbggglllgr! Mmnnnm!" Lana wailed into her gag, legs pumping.

"Hi...?"
"Hi, I'm Jerri," Lila said brightly. "Jen called in sick. You're
Stacey, right?"
"Yes." They shook hands. "I'm on next shift from Vee. Is she on
rounds?"
"No, she's back in the office. We've got some kind of glitch with the
monitors and she's trying to figure it out."
"Always something, I guess," shrugged Stacey. She was tall and a bit
lanky, with long legs. Her dark, curly hair hung at shoulder length,
her green eyes bored behind retro horn-rimmed glasses. She didn't
know her shift was going to be more interesting than she obviously
expected.
It was a couple of minutes to four and Lila had been back on the desk
less than five minutes, so she'd cut it close.
"Let's go see if she's made any progress," Lila suggested. As they
walked along the hall, she asked if Netbond was always this quiet.
"On these graveyard shifts, yeah," nodded Stacey. "The place is
humming during the day, though. Not so much on weekends."
"Maybe I can get this is a regular assignment...?" She subtly let
Stacey get a half step ahead of her and reached for her belt.
"Could be, if you can find somebody who wants to switch." Stacey
swiped her card through the reader and opened the security office
door. She froze at sight of Vanessa's naked and bound body on the
floor.
"Shit!"
Lila jolted Stacey with her stun gun and managed to catch the guard
as she collapsed, almost taking both of them to the floor.
"Mmmnneeefffeee!" Vanessa mushed into her gag, having heard the
exchange and guessing its import.
"I told you you'd get a playmate," Lila reminded the black woman as
she set Stacey down and began peeling off the guard's uniform and
underwear.
She untied the rope holding Vanessa's cuffed feet to the conduit pipe
and got her onto her side, shoved over a bit. She also undid the
bindings on her knees and thighs. The bound woman made a few
questioning grunts around the stocking that held her mouth packing,
but Lila didn't enlighten her.
The thief set to work on Stacey, binding her wrists together and then
stretching them over her head just like Vanessa's cuffed wrists.
Lila filled Stacey's mouth with the guard's own flowered bra and
panty set, as well as her wool socks. She was almost out of
bandaging, so she used several short strips of duct tape to hold the
bunched fabric in, being careful not to get it stuck to the
brunette's hair. Then she used the last of the bandage for a single
band around Stacey's mouth and two layers to blindfold her.
Needing Vanessa compliant, Lila doled out another small dose of
chloroform, just enough to get the black woman groggy and slow. With
some effort, she managed to get the two guards facing each other on
the floor, but in opposite directions, head to toe.
She undid Vanessa's ankle cuffs. A leader rope bound Stacey's wrists
off to the conduit pipe. Lila pushed the two up against each other,
then pulled Vanessa's legs around Stacey, one to either side, and
recuffed them. The she roped the cuffs again to the pipe.
She mirrored that at the other end, lashing Stacey's ankles together
once she'd encircled her long legs around Vanessa, then tying them
off to the desk with Vanessa's wrists. Working from the ends down,
Lila was able to knot several additional ropes around the pair to
hold them together more firmly. When she was done, each woman's
gagged and blindfolded face was pressed into the other's exposed
crotch.
They both began to stir a little about the same time.
"Mmgggrrmmm...," slurred Vanessa.
"Uhmmm nnnmm...," grunted Stacey, her taped and bandaged lips
unavoidably nuzzling the black woman's bush.
"Well, I've done all I can do," Lila said after watching their slow
writhings for a moment. "The rest is up to you two. Enjoy this time
together." She flicked off the lights and shut the door behind her.

Lila unlocked her car's trunk and tossed the now much-depleted
workout bag in with her computer gear. She paused just a moment to
gaze fondly at her other cargo, naked and pinioned pretty much
immovably in a severe leather and metal hogtie harness.
A red leather discipline helmet completely covered Audrey Chaplin's
head, only a little of her shoulder-length auburn hair spilling out
underneath. Behind the sealed mouth zipper, a softball-sized sphere
of sponge bulged her cheeks and cut off sound.
The end of a job well done, Lila thought. Once she handed off the
disk to her actual employers and got paid, she'd take a nice
leisurely break to "talk shop" with her competition here.
"Won't that be fun?" she asked rhetorically.
Ms. Chaplin made no reply, other than to strain futilely in bound
silence.

THE END
meditions142
Posts: 1254
Joined: Fri Jun 01, 2018 2:51 pm

Re: "Happy in her Work " by Bavaglio

Post by meditions142 »

Thanks for finding this great old story Esercito!

I loved this story way back when when it was posted on the bindher.com website. Until you posted it, I thought it was lost forever.

I really love the first scene where poor security guard Jen gets her uniform stolen at home. The writer's attention to detail is terrific.

I particularly like the fact that Jen was actually on some level turned on by what was happening to her. I also like that her attacker makes sure that the young guard will experience forced orgasm after forced orgasm.

Thanks again for finding this.
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