by Pat Powers
Chapter 1
Melissa Melts A Few Minds
Jack Davis felt a warm glow of pleasure at the end of his workday, because of his feeling that he had evaded stupidity that day.
Jack was working on a B-movie called “The Doorbell Chimes of Doom.” It had a scene where the villain captures Melissa, the hero's girl, and ties her to a chair. Jack had been down at the 3D printer hand-painting a prop for a bit of business in one of the fight scenes so the build-up for the scene was in progress when Jack reported to the set. And found Melissa sitting in a chair with ropes strewn all over her, looking like the bad guys had attacked her with a can of silly string.
"Hey, JD," Melissa said. She was wearing a black bandanna over her mouth as a gag, but it did absolutely nothing to silence her, or impede her speech much.
"Hey, Melissa," Jack responded. He liked her, as did every other straight guy on the set as well as most of the gay ones. She was Hollywood pretty, a cute snub nose with blue eyes, long blond tresses resting on a pair of bountiful breasts and she had a friendly personality. She had a lively sense of her own self-interest, too, but nobody held that against her, given her profession. Sheer self-defense, really.
"You comfy in all those ropes?" Jack asked her.
"They're not bad," Melissa said. "Not tight at all, in fact, the problem is that when I'm acting, the ropes are so loose I'm afraid they'll fall off."
"Oscar did this personally, didn't he?" Jack asked, grinning at Melissa.
Melissa's eyes crinkled into a smile. "How did you know?"
"Prop master intuition," he replied. "Let me have a word with Oscar.”
As the prop master, Jack was normally in charge of things like tying people up when the script called for that. He had gotten pretty good at it. He enjoyed it, especially when the tyee was a pretty actress.
Jack also had a rep for conscientiousness and attention to detail that had propelled him from prop work on a few indie films where pay had been almost nonexistent, to working on TV shows and top grade B films like this one, which paid pretty well by working stiff standards. He'd even done a few A films.
In the meantime, there was the director, Oscar Jantzen. He was physically afraid of Jack. Not that Jack had behaved threateningly or been aggressive with him. It's just that Jack was six feet four and weighed 220 pounds, and people get timid around him whether he acted aggressive or not. In fact, it had always been Jack's theory that the reason a lot of big guys got the reputation for being teddy bears on the inside is that they're always having to act extremely calm and unaggressive so people will relate to them as human beings instead of as big, dangerous animals that might attack them at any moment.
In addition to that, Jack had a fierce look to him. The son of Appalachian mountain men, he had one of those hard, square-jawed faces they get up there, though he'd never spent so much as a day in a coal mine or trying to wrest food from a mountainside. Fortunately, his strong jaw and prominent chin were offset by piercing blue eyes and a mouth that was disposed to smile when relaxed. In fact, he had a perpetual air of being pleasantly surprised that women found very attractive, and which offset his mountain man looks. Which was good, because his beard, though neatly trimmed, and his ink, though tasteful, and his size added to the general fierceness of his looks. In fact, whenever the script calls for a large goon to be beaten up and there was no stunt man handy, Jack generally get the call.
There are some people who have an excess of natural timidity, and Oscar was one of those. And while Jack was as good at acting unaggressive as most big men have to be to succeed, he also knew how to growl. Not that he planned to start things that way.
Jack walked over to where Oscar was in conference with the script manager.
"Oscar!" Jack called. "A word with you."
Oscar looked up diffidently as Jack approached.
"Sure, JD," he said. Everyone called Jack “JD.” Something in Oscar's expression told Jack that Oscar knew why Jack wanted to talk. Guilty conscience, Jack supposed. Tying up the actors was his responsibility.
"I think we're going to have to redo the ropework on Melissa," Jack said without preamble. "It just isn't going to fly."
"Well, I just thought that some sloppy ropework would be more in character with Devon than the careful work you do," said Oscar. "After all, he's a psycho killer. Very impulsive, not much given to thinking things through."
"Granted," Jack said. "The problem is that the script calls for Melissa to be bound in that chair for a couple of hours while Devon is robbing the museum. Nobody's gonna buy the notion that those ropes would keep anyone in place for half a minute, much less half an hour."
Oscar looked a little offended at that.
"I don't think I did quite THAT bad a job," said Oscar.
"Melissa!" I called. "We need a little demonstration here. Pretend the building is on fire and you need to get out of those ropes in a hurry!"
"Sure," Melissa said. She began wriggling vigorously, and in about five seconds her hands were free. In about 20 seconds she was pulling the ropes around her shins loose and standing beside her chair. With her figure, watching her wriggle her way out of those ropes was an absolute pleasure. More than one member of the crew was standing with his mouth hanging open at the sight of her.
Jack grinned at Oscar.
"Now, I've had a lot of experience tying actors up for various film and TV shows," Jack said. "So I immediately, consciously knew Melissa would be able to escape in seconds. Your audience wouldn't know it as fast as I would, or as consciously, Oscar, but they could figure it out, too. Pretty easily. It would be another barrier to the suspension of disbelief. You've told me often enough that suspension of disbelief is the key to movie-making -- that the less the audience has to do to suspend disbelief, the more immersed they'll become in the film. Well, whaddya think's going to happen when they see Devon walk out on her tied that loosely, then he returns three hours later to find her still tied? Think they're going to buy into it subconsciously? No, even if they don't consciously realize what's going on, they'll subconsciously know she could escape easily in seconds, and there will go the credibility you've worked so hard to build.
"OK," Oscar said calmly, with a slight smile. "Retie her. Do it right, not the way I'd do it."
Jack grinned back at Oscar. Oscar had succeeded in this business, to the extent that he had succeeded, because he knew when to let his ego slide and listen to his cast and crew. Which was very frequently.
"Thanks for the help, Melissa," Jack said as he walked over to her. "Let's see if we can't do this right. Get yourself something to drink and I'll get some more rope."
"Sounds good to me," Melissa said, heading over for the snack table. She'd find some veggies to nibble on and some bottled water to guzzle, ever mindful of her figure like most in her profession. Of course, the weight-reduction nanosets had made that kind of attention to one's diet unnecessary, but many still did it the old-fashioned way. They simply could not believe a diet of beer, cheese, pastries and bacon was not harmful, even though nanoset-enhanced actresses demonstrated the truth of it every day
Jack went to the prop room. He had soft cotton rope cut to various lengths already on hand. Jack also had a full selection of gags in his prop room -- ball gags, leather gags, bit gags, bandanna gags and more -- but he knew that for this job a cleave gag would do just fine. The only question was, would wadding be appropriate? Jack got small cotton cloth to use, just in case, along with a very lo
ng, very thick strip of cotton to use for the cleave itself. That way, if the wadding didn't fly, at least he wouldn't be left with a thin cleave gag that wouldn't have any credibility at all with viewers as a silencer.
When Jack came back out, Melissa was standing beside her chair, chatting with a bland-looking guy in a suit, probably a set visitor, and drinking some carbonated water.
"Hey, Ralph, this is Mitch Connery from Lionstar Productions," said Melissa. "I'm going to be working for them next week on their new TV series."
"Good to meet you, Mr. Connery," Jack said, smiling and extending a hand. He never knew where his next gig was coming from in this business, so it paid to be polite to everyone.
"Good to meet you, Mr. Davis,” said Connery. "Melissa says you're an expert prop master."
"One does one's humble best," Jack said, grinning. "And you always look good when you're working with pros like Melissa."
"Well, I don't mean to keep you from your work," said Connery. "Perhaps we'll meet again soon."
With those words, Connery headed for the crowd of folks who could generally be found watching the action on any open set.
"Well, let's talk about this scene," Jack said to Melissa. He had found that when dealing with pros like Melissa, it was smart to talk with them about what you were planning, to get them involved in it too. Treating them like a sack of wheat being bundled for market generally left them either angry and complaining at everything he did, or they got real passive and uninterested, resulting in a dull scene.
Of course, there were actresses whom it was best to treat like a sack of wheat, generally the ones with amateurish attitudes. The ones who thought they were stars, not just actresses -- and were neither, really. That kind it didn't do much good to talk to, because Jack was just a prop master and couldn't possibly know anything they needed to know.
But if you had someone like Melissa, you could get her involved and come up with a scene that would be better than it deserved to be, even with someone like Oscar running the show.
"So, as I understand it," Jack said, "Devon promises you a fate worse than death when he returns, and you're left here to contemplate your fate, helplessly tied to the chair until McBane rescues you."
"That's about it," Melissa said. "Not much of an acting-fest for me. Mmmmph mmmph and looking worried."
"Maybe," Jack said. "But let's look at it from a different perspective. As long as the cameras are on you, might as well get as much as you can out of them. As I see it, faced with a fate worse than death, you'll have ample reason to writhe desperately in your bonds in your attempts to escape. We can capitalize on that by tying you in a way that reveals your figure. Also, lots of chances to flash those baby blues at the camera. I've got a white cloth here, which will set your red lips off nicely if you use a between the lips gag rather than an over-the-mouth gag. That sound good so far?"
"It is so nice to have someone on my side," Melissa said.
"If your scene comes off well, it'll work well for me too, darlin'," Jack responded.
"Yeah, that's what Cindy tells me," Melissa said with a grin. "We went out drinking the other night when you were working on that fight scene for Paramount."
"You been talkin' with Cindy?" Jack asked. "Darn, there goes my reputation."
"Au contraire, big guy," Melissa said, smiling. "Cindy says you're a craftsman in the bedroom, just like you are on the set. Total attention to what you're doing, satisfaction guaranteed -- plus she says you're, um, tall all over."
"Well, it's sweet of her to lie like that," Jack said.
"She says you are pretty good with the ropes in the bedroom, too," Melissa said, her eyes twinkling.
"If she says so, it must be so, because she'd be the one to know," Jack replied.
"So, I guess you're going to enjoy tying me up," Melissa said. "Hope Cindy won't mind."
"I will enjoy tying you up, that's true," Jack said. "But if you've been talking with Cindy, you know my motto is "safety first" and that doing it on the set is a professional thing to me."
"I've always known that about you," Melissa said. "What I'm trying to say, though, is, don't hold back in what you're planning on my account. I'm very comfortable with any ideas you might come up with, and after talking to Cindy, I know what kind of ideas you're capable of coming up with. She was BRAGGING about you, you know."
That was the thing about the sweet young things like Melissa that one finds in Hollywood, Jack had found. They look, talk and act sweet, but they've often got a pretty sharp mind under all that hair and makeup, and they're always looking for an edge. What Melissa was really doing was asking Jack to use any and all of his bondage abilities to help make her scene work, and not to hold back for fear of offending her in some way with his ideas.
"Well, darlin' if it was up to me alone I'd recommend getting you naked, or nearly so, then doing a wrist ankle tie with a joyrope that would let you do some major writhing, and a bit gag that would let you work those lips," Jack said. "Cindy and I both really like that setup, but you know what a prig Oscar is, he'd never go for it."
"Sounds like fun, but you're right, Oscar would never go for it, and it would probably ruin any shot I'd ever have at the 'America's Sweetheart' franchise," Melissa said. "A girl's gotta protect her image, y'know."
"Right, so let's try something a little less sexual, but still plenty interesting," Jack said. "Now, as I recall, we haven't filmed the scene where Devon attacks you, so changing your costume won't cause any continuity problems, since there are no precursors to that scene."
"Right," said Melissa. "We've got that one and the other two scheduled in sequence later this week so my stunt double will be on hand for all three."
"That's what I figured," Jack said. “So, let's stick with tying you to the chair, but how about if during the struggle when Devon overpowers you, you're wearing a sheer blouse, and your blouse gets severely torn open, and being an impulsive fellow Devon doesn't refasten any buttons when he ties you to the chair. And suppose that he ties your arms behind your back so your breasts really stick out. To keep your back up against the chair, he ties your upper torso to the chair back with ropes that run above and below your breasts, further straining your already overwrought blouse. And of course you, desperate to escape, will writhe furiously, threatening at any moment to turn your PG-rated scene into an R-rated scene. Never quite doing so, of course, but making the scene an overwhelming eyeball-grabber for every male viewer over the age of 12."
"Mmmm, I'd say we've got the wrong guy directing this movie," Melissa said.
"No argument here," Jack said. "We can also use that white cleave gag I was talking about earlier -- it's not as sexy as a bit gag, but it does have a more PG-rated feel to it, since the only people that own bits are horsie folks and bondage fans. It'll still set off those red lips of yours, and if you stare wide-eyed over the gag with those big baby blue eyes of yours, a close-up of you will be downright All-American."
"OK," Melissa said, "sounds good."
"We'll use a thick white cleave gag, so we won't need packing to keep the Loosie Award people off our backs," Jack continued.
"Loosie Award people?" Melissa asked.
"They're an online network of damsel-in-distress scene fans who give out humor awards for bad bondage scenes," Jack responded. "Remember how you were able to talk easily under that over the mouth gag Oscar put on you? Well, a thin cleave gag -- one that goes between your lips rather than over them -- is not much better for dampening sound. The people out there know that, and they give Loosie Awards as a way of saying "Gotcha!" when somebody screws up that way."
"God, I had no idea people paid that much attention," Melissa said, aghast.
"Oh, it could be worse," Jack observed. "Look at Star Trek. Every time one of those guys so much as hiccoughs, somebody publishes a book about it. Besides, it's just an Internet thing."
"I tried getting on the Internet a couple of times," Melissa said. "But it was so boring. Porn and cats and people arg
uing with one another. So many words!"
Jack thought that Melissa wouldn't have bothered to read many of those words, but he kept that thought to himself.
"OK, one more thought on this scene," Jack said. "It's a little thing, but I was thinking that we should tie your legs apart, rather than together. That way, you appear more vulnerable. And if you're wearing a short skirt, when you writhe, once again there's that danger of your skirt riding up and revealing your legs to an unseemly degree."
"Oh, I like the way you think," said Melissa.
"All right, why don't you go over to costume and change over then?" Jack said.
"Sure, the wardrobe mistress showed me the most darling little peasant blouse and minidress combination for later in the shoot, but it hasn't been used yet, and I think I can talk her into it now."
"Fine," Jack said. "I'll be waiting."
Jack was used to waiting, on a movie set.
"Are you tying me up just like you'd tie up Cindy for some play time?" Melissa asked about an hour later as he tied her wrists together behind her back.
"Of course not," Jack said. "When I tie up Cindy I make sure the ropes go over all the places where a little friction can do a girl good, if you know what I mean, and we aren't going to do that with you. But I am using the same kind of knots I use with Cindy -- like, I put a lot of loops around your arms to distribute the pressure evenly, so you don't accidentally injure yourself as your writhe."
"You can do that?" Melissa asked.
"Sure," Jack said. "The wrists and ankles, where people generally get tied, are places where all kinds of tendons, bones, and nerves come together. If you have just a single loop around the wrist, and somebody writhes too much, you can tear a ligament or damage a nerve. It's generally more of an issue in sexual play where people can lose their presence of mind as things get steamy, but it could also happen if an actress gets too worked up during a scene. Remember Cindy Leverton, who injured her hand in a scene during "Pirates of Baghdad?” Well, that's how she injured it. It didn't happen to me, but when I heard about it I decided no actress in my care would get injured, so I started studying how to safely tie up and gag people. I learned a lot."
