The Johnson Rope Factory 2b: The Not So Nice

by Jackie Rabbit

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© Copyright 2016 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; FFM/f; entrap; captive; bond; rope; wrap; spool; espionage; imposter; cons/nc; X

story continued from part one

Part 2b: The Not So Nice short conclusion

I then heard the truck's engine shut off and what I presumed was the drivers door open and close, followed by a nearly identical noise a second time, telling me that there were two people who had just exited the truck. I say nearly identical because the second door had been closed with a gentle touch, where the first had not.

Two sets of feet could be heard walking about on the concrete floor, one a heavy stepper in boots, and the other almost imperceptible in heels. How had the factory door been opened from the inside I wondered, and who were these two? I also wondered where Ms. Becket was hiding, I feeling very alone and vulnerable bound as I was.

"You made good time" I heard Ms. Becket say somewhere off near the door's controls, telling me a great deal with those four little words.

"No traffic this time of night" I heard from some unknown male voice. "Do you know how they're set up to move the package?"

"Oh, PLEEEASE! Our special sample is on the spool closest to the spooler, lift eye on top of the shaft, bridge crane and pendant over there. It looks like they pick them high and carry over the other spools vertically, but then lay them over horizontally on the truck deck, most inefficient all things considered. There is a ladder over by the spools, you'll need that to get the hook on. If you can manage the crane work by yourself I'll finish wrapping our package and get our other traveling companion ready to go, but be careful when you lay the spool over, I don't want to damage it."

I heard the heavy steps walking toward the bridge crane's parking spot, and two sets of heels walking toward my spool while wondering what I had got myself wrapped up in. Ms. Becket obviously wasn't what she purported herself to be, and I wondered how I had been so foolishly blinded to the peril of this lusty game that I loved, most especially while playing with somebody new and unknown. Ms. Becket was obviously playing a game as well, but a different one than the one I had intended with different rules and goals.

I had assumed that somebody higher up I the front office had asked for her identification, or somehow had verified her story, but to be fair documents can be forged all day long with a good quality printed and laminator. She at the same time played her part well when we first met, and she was pretty and dressed professionally. The guys in the front office likely had other interests when first meeting the young and pretty inspector, as did I. She played me like a fool though, and now I was her prisoner, and in all reality I deserved as much.


The humming overhead crane could be heard making it's way toward my position on it's steel tracks, but the soft stepping heels made it first. I found myself staring at Ms. Becket and some other woman wondering what was going on, from the part of the conversation I had heard I had already deduced that my spool and I were going for a truck ride though. Why was this other woman even necessary for that to happen I wondered, and what were they playing at?

The woman looked my spool up and down and smiled at my predicament, the pretty young thing that I knew as Ms. Becket pointing out specifically the torment she had applied to my aching buds held protruding through the rope by her sadistic rope work, as well as my intrusive crotch rope.

"Oh, I'll bet that stings just a little" she commented to her companion with a smile. There was no humanity in her words though, no empathy for a fellow human being in such a helpless state, nor any even for a fellow woman strung up in helpless display. If I had thought for a moment that my tormented display might gain me some sympathy from the woman, those hopes were instantly dashed with her comments.

"Do you think she'll survive the trip wrapped up like that?" the woman asked her friend, not out of concern for me though, her tone told me she could care less either way. It was small talk to her, she might have just as easily asked if it was supposed to rain next week.

"I expect she will, it was her idea after all, she boasting to me that I could wrap her for shipping on one of these things. There is of course no other way to prove she is shippable other than to actually ship her somewhere, don't you think?"

"You have a dark sense of humor, you know that don't you? If she does survive though, can I play with her?" the smiling woman asked. "After you have what you need from her first obviously."

"First things first, you have a little trip of your own to take, somewhat more comfortably than hers though I'll wager. Strip out of that dress your wearing and try hers on to see if it fits while I wrap her up for shipping, her bag and wallet are over there as well, can't keep our driver waiting, he has a schedule after all."

"You always say that first things first crap."

"I suppose I do."

Ms. Becket then turned toward me once again as she busied herself, her need to gloat obvious.

"Figure it out yet Einstein? she asked rhetorically. "Or are you so dense that I have to tell you myself?"

They were oddly formed questions, either a slight nod, or shake of my head would allow my captor to continue to gloat some more just as she desired. I then shook my head almost imperceptibly as if answering her first question, I knew it wouldn't matter in the long run anyway.

"Industrial espionage, I needed a tour of your facility to see how you do this, while the machines were actually up and running would have been best, but that would have exposed my face to hundreds of people, where this way it was just a few. I also needed a fresh sample as our lab guys couldn't precisely reverse engineer the tightly wound and packaged ones for some technical reason I would be hard pressed to explain.

Your capture is just a bonus to me, you know how this operation should run, suppliers, distributors, special deals, all of it. I at the same time don't mind depriving what will be our major competition one of their more creative minds. You practically threw yourself in with this deal, gift wrapped and all, and I can't pass up on such a bargain. You thought up Johnson's advertising campaign, and you'll think up the next one for us. You will help us one way or the other, that I can promise, and our fully automated line will have market share in five years if all goes well.

Simply stated, behave and we'll have some fun together as I obviously know what you like, or misbehave and I'll have some fun, and then I'll pass you around to my business partners and let them do the same. A word of warning though, fun is a relative term, and play toys sometimes get broken, either accidentally, or otherwise.

If we have to go down that dark road, although I hope not as your potentially quite useful to me, I might then use you to sweeten the deal with our off shore partners. Such 'gifts' are common and expected in some places in addition to a more traditional cash bribe, blond and blue always in demand, but one can only imagine what would be left of you after your body helped provide a million dollar discount for us. Under such extreme circumstances there might not be all that much to return, and I just hate to discard my toys unnecessarily.

In any event, several hours from now you will be in your new home, and the other you will be in what should be presumed as hers. You have that long to contemplate your future."

It had to be some kind of torturous joke I thought, but my captor was quite serious, she cutting free my spool from the master and tailing it off expertly. Next was the shrink wrap, she starting below my feet and wrapping slowly, I wrapped to my hips when the other woman reappeared in my field of view wearing my nice dress and holding my bag. She had a few pounds on me, my dress tight and provocative on her, I also noticing she hadn't bothered to wear either my slip, nor her bra. Her nips were there for me to see trying to poke through the thin material of my dress, and that reminded me of my own tortured buds also on display.

I then listened in on Ms. Becket making a call on my phone booking a red eye to parts unknown, paying for the first class passage with my own credit card as I watched mutely, their plan taking shape before my eyes. My dress wearing impostor would be on that flight in my place with several witnesses seeing "me" dressed like a slut and skipping town. "I" would likely never be seen again, their plan rather clever all things considered. The authorities would assume I had made a deal and facilitated the theft of some of Johnson's product, skipping town on the run to avoid prosecution, taking whatever I had made while betraying my company with me.

When they eventually figured this out they would look where the plane had landed first, following a trail of credit card purchases if they could. My phone would tell the authorities I had indeed gotten on that plane, and if they were smart they would have then given my wallet and phone to some shady character and told her to have a good time.

I would be presumed either dead, or a fugitive from justice, Ms. Becket's trap just as complete as the one I had voluntarily placed myself in for her...

(This endings just a little short, but there is a very large part that is yet to be told if there is interest.)

Conclusion now has an extension piece Part 2c: Becket Automation

Story also has a 'Nice' Conclusion here: Part 2a: The Nice Conclusion

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