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Model D: She's the D.J., I'm the Wrapper

Chapter 1
D.J. opened the curtains covering the glass doors to her balcony and marveled at the majestic panorama of the ocean sunrise.
“This is more like it,” she said aloud.  “I need to figure out how to get more beachside assignments.”
It was probably wishful thinking, but the undercover agent definitely preferred being set up in an oceanfront hotel versus anything inland.  It didn’t hurt that D.J. had a body tailor-made for beachwear. Because of her stunning looks and curvaceous figure, her superiors at the Transglobal Intelligence and Espionage Directorate gave her the codename “Model D” because she could pass for a supermodel if the job needed it.
Additionally, the last few weeks had been stressful.  After nearly being killed while investigating a
:iconhoodedmaster:hoodedmaster 2 0
Model D: The Pryce of Discovery

"I should've known this was more than your typical, unshowered hackers," D.J. seethed, trying to free her hands.  In the basement of an indiscriminate, off-brand coffee house called "Get Your Perks", the shapely agent found herself sitting helpless in a wooden chair.  Each of her wrists was bound to a chair arm with the rope wrapped nearly halfway up her forearm. More rope wrapped her torso to the back at the chair right at her elbows, preventing her from getting any leverage to slide her wrists free.  Similarly, her ankles were bound to the corresponding front legs of the chair, and more rope restrained her thighs to ensure she remained seated.
"Did you honestly think a few wannabe anarchists would have the singular drive or focus to infiltrate some of your government’s most guarded servers?"
The other woman in the room, Jessica "Jezebel" Belfort, had received the sa
:iconhoodedmaster:hoodedmaster 0 0
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hoodedmaster's Profile Picture
Kristoffer Wolff
United States
Hello, I am an author of bondage-themed short stories and vignettes.

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$5.00 USD (payable via PayPal or Cash App) per 1,500 words. I might also be willing to trade a story for a piece of original artwork (basically a commission-for-commission trade). Send me a DA Note or email for inquires.

"Silens dominarum non loquuntur mendacium."


The first draft of the novella I've been working on is finished, and I'm about halfway through the editing stages.  I've also posted a cover reveal on my WordPress blog, so you can go see it here:…
  • Listening to: ᛏᛣᚱ
  • Drinking: Coffee
Just an FYI to anyone (like me) who didn't get notified that Oronjo was shutting down.  I've moved the eBooks I had there to a similar service, Payhip, and the books that were formerly on Oronjo are now here:
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9 deviations
She's the D.J., I'm the Wrapper by hoodedmaster


Chapter 1

D.J. opened the curtains covering the glass doors to her balcony and marveled at the majestic panorama of the ocean sunrise.

“This is more like it,” she said aloud.  “I need to figure out how to get more beachside assignments.”

It was probably wishful thinking, but the undercover agent definitely preferred being set up in an oceanfront hotel versus anything inland.  It didn’t hurt that D.J. had a body tailor-made for beachwear. Because of her stunning looks and curvaceous figure, her superiors at the Transglobal Intelligence and Espionage Directorate gave her the codename “Model D” because she could pass for a supermodel if the job needed it.

Additionally, the last few weeks had been stressful.  After nearly being killed while investigating a hacker ring (See, she returned to the office only to receive several creepy letters from a secret admirer calling himself “Spider”.  The letters went into graphic detail about how he wanted to tie her up and revel in her helplessness. The forensics team was trying to trace the letters’ source, but they hadn’t come up with any leads yet.

This time around, her assignment involved locating a gang of brand-name knockoff dealers operating in the vicinity.  The fashion forgeries were supposedly so good, that only a trained eye could spot the difference between the real thing and the counterfeit.  Worse, the proceeds from the illegal merchandise sales were supposedly being used to fund terrorist activities.

Although D.J. debated lying low the first day just to get some well-deserved rest and relaxation, she was ultimately a professional and felt she needed to do something related to the case.  What she could do was take a long walk on the beach, looking around for anything suspicious, and then go to work proper if she found anything.

She eyeballed the swimsuit and bikini in her suitcase, but decided those might be a bit conspicuous if she was spotted too far away from the public areas.  Besides, even with her dark complexion (being half-Filipino and half-Latina), she could still get a nasty sunburn if she was out in the sun too long.

Instead she opted for a long-sleeved grey cotton crop-top and some matching athletic shorts.  She slipped on some snug-fitting tennis shoes, grabbed a pair of sunglasses, and then set out on her trek.

Chapter 2

It was a hot day, and D.J. pulled the zipper down on the front of her top.  She had only gone about two miles, but was regretting not wearing a bathing suit underneath so she could take a dip in the ocean and cool off.  She debated stripping down completely for a quick skinny-dip, but she worried that some pervert or prankster would run off with her clothes, leaving her with a long and embarrassing walk back to the hotel.  Additionally, her room key and government-issue phone were inside the small bag she was carrying, and losing those would make her life even more difficult.

As she rounded a copse of palm trees, she spotted a large building near a dirt road.  While the building itself wasn’t that remarkable, she noticed that it was situated under some tall trees, and the metal had been painted nearly the same color as the sand she was walking on.

“Well, it seems someone is trying to hide something,” she muttered under her breath.

She was a bit disheartened that she had made a discovery on the first day, as she wanted to milk this assignment into a vacation, but maybe her bosses would let her stay for the remainder of her initial week-long hotel reservation.

D.J. cautiously stepped off the beach and approached the building.  She looked around for any guards, figuring she could always pull the “dumb tourist” act if she was discovered, but she saw no one.

The building had a large sliding door big enough to accomodate a moving van facing the road.  It was secured with two large padlocks. Beside it, however, was a regular door, and it looked to have a standard knob and deadbolt configuration.  D.J. had her lockpicks inside her bag and figured she might be able to get inside and look around.

She walked up to the door, pressed her ear up against it, and hearing nothing, tried the knob.  As she suspected, it was locked. After once again verifying she was alone, D.J. picked the locks.  She opened the door a crack and peered inside. Again seeing no one, she stepped inside.

The air inside the building was stifling.  There were fans up near the roof blowing air out, but even in the shade of the trees outside, it was still hot.  This place must be unbearable in the afternoon, D.J. mused.  She wondered where the fans were getting their power since she hadn’t seen a generator outside, and figured there must be a solar panel somewhere nearby.

The building was primarily lit by several translucent panels in the roof, which illuminated the building sufficiently enough to look around.

As clever as the building’s design was, what interested her most were the shrink-wrapped pallets of boxes occupying most of the interior.  She walked over to an unwrapped pallet and opened up one of the boxes. Sure enough, they were full of Coach purses. Well, they weren’t Coaches, but very close.  As she turned one of the purses over in her hands, she marveled at how good a clone it was. No doubt, she had found one of the counterfeiters’ facilities, so all she needed to do was tag the location and report it to her superiors.

D.J. pulled out her phone to send a message, but the building’s metal construction interfered with her signal, and she had no bars.  She headed back toward the door to see if she could pick one up outside. As she did, she heard a vehicle pull up.

Crap!  D.J. ducked behind one of the pallets as she heard some voices approach the door.

“I thought I told you to always lock this door before you left!”

“You watched me do it!”

“Regardless, it’s unlocked now, and something set off the motion sensor.”

Stupid! D.J. cursed herself for not looking for any security equipment.  She knew there were at least two men who entered. Unfortunately, she hadn’t thought to examine the building for a back entrance, and she couldn’t see around the pallets without exposing herself.

“Look around quick.  Hopefully, it’s just a seagull or something that got in under the door.”

The men stopped speaking, presumably to start searching the building.  There wasn’t any way she could go without being discovered eventually. Maybe if she could subdue one of them, she could use the distraction to slip out the door and find a better place to hide outside.

She saw one of the men pass by her pallet.  He had a pistol at the ready, but if she could get the jump on him, she might be able to take him out.  Slowly she shifted into a crouch and crept toward him. Just as she was getting close enough to grab him, a shout came from behind her.

“Stop! Don’t move!”

The man in front of her spun around, leveling his gun at D.J.  Figuring the man behind her was also armed, she froze and slowly raised her hands.

“I don’t suppose either of you know where a girl can get a good deal on a designer purse?” D.J. asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Chapter 3

The men weren’t in a joking mood.  After taking her bag, one held her at gunpoint while the other called in a third man from outside.  Now with two guns pointed at her, the apparent leader of the trio tried to question her.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he asked.

D.J. tried the innocent approach.  “Well, I was just walking down the beach, and thought this place looked interesting, so I decided to have a look.”

“Bullshit.  Try again.”

“I’m a realtor scouting locations for a new condo development.”

The man shook his head.  “We don’t have time for this.”  He walked over to one of the partially-stacked pallets and picked up a roll of shrink-wrap.   He returned, saying, “You might not want to talk now, but maybe you will after a few hours.”

“Put your arms flat against your sides,” he ordered, unfurling a length of the wrap.

D.J. did so, sighing at the man’s obvious intent.  “Is this really necessary?” she asked. “Couldn’t we just go to a bar somewhere and talk this out?”

The man passed the wrap over her and positioned the top of it just below her shoulders.  Holding the end between D.J.’s shoulder blades, he pressed the plastic to itself, getting it to stick enough where he didn’t have to hold it.  Then, he continued to wrap D.J.’s torso all the way down to her wrists.

“Sid, come here and hold her steady,” he said.  “Press your legs together, sweetheart.”

D.J. groaned as Sid held her while the leader continued wrapping the plastic all the way down to her ankles.  Then he pulled out a utility knife and sliced it free from the roll. He walked back to the pallet, setting the knife on top of a row of boxes and picked up some clear tape.

He walked back to D.J. and applied a full revolution of tape at four points to help reinforce the plastic.  Then he looked her straight in the eye. “Last chance to tell us the truth,” he said, taking a rag from his pocket.

“Look, I already told you, I’m just a…. MMMPLGG!”  D.J. didn’t get to finish her statement, as the man shoved the rag in her mouth.

He set the tape on D.J.’s cheek, passing it over her lips, then took her hair up in one hand as he wrapped the tape behind her neck, making several revolutions over her mouth.

“If you’re not going to tell us the truth, then there’s no point in you talking at all,” he said, nodding to Sid.

The two of them grabbed D.J. under the knees and laid her on the floor.

“That shrink-wrap contracts with heat,” he explained, “so between your body heat and the sun, you’ll find it’s going to get very tight in a short amount of time.  We’ll be back in the evening to see if you want to tell us who you really are and who else might know about this operation.”

The leader nodded toward Sid and other man.  “Let’s go, and turn off the fans so our little trespasser gets the full experience.”

D.J. whined at the thought.

Chapter 4

After she heard the vehicle drive off, the cocooned D.J. squirmed for a bit, hoping the shrink-wrap wasn’t as strong as the men hoped.  To her dismay, it was. She groaned loudly through the gag, but the sound was muffled to her own ears, and even if someone else did happen to be walking by, they wouldn’t be able to hear her.

Worse, what the man said about the plastic contracting seemed to be true.  At least, it felt like it was getting tighter, although D.J. conceded it might just be claustrophobia and the hot, stagnant air playing tricks with her mind.  In a short amount of time, she was covered in sweat, and the non-breathable nature of the wrap made her feel clammy all over.

She had to get free.  Even if her brain didn’t fry in this heat, the men would likely just shoot her and drop her body in the ocean if she didn’t tell them what they wanted to hear.

Think, D.J. think…

Then she remembered the utility knife the man set on the row of boxes.  If she could get to it, maybe she could cut herself free. Of course, her hands were sealed under the plastic, so that was another problem.

Okay, I need to get at least one hand free first.

D.J. worked her right thumb against the plastic and pushed outward as much as she could.  After considerable effort, she finally felt it break through the material. Thankful they hadn’t bound her hands before wrapping her, and she was able to shift her hand in order to get her index and middle finger into the hole.  She ripped the plastic further, finally creating a hole wide enough to get her entire hand out.

She wondered if she might be able to tear her way free on her own, but it had taken a lot of time and effort to free the one hand, and the tape was complicating her movements as well.  No doubt about it, the knife would be quicker.

D.J. flattened herself out and rolled over to the stack of boxes and then twisted herself around.  She tried bending her legs up to kick the box, but the wrap impeded her movement enough to bend up that high.  Instead, she kicked at the box below it.

Fortunately, the purses weren’t too heavy, and the stack shifted.  D.J. kicked at it a few more times before the stack fell. D.J. screamed through her gag as the knife went skidding across the floor, nearly sliding under another pallet.  Luckily, it stopped just short.

D.J. rolled over to the knife and squirmed around until she got a hold of it.  She needed to work quickly, as she had lost track of time, and the men said they’d return near sunset.  She extended the blade and turned it around in her hand, using it to widen the hole she already made.

Cutting in short slits so as not to injure herself, she worked her way left until she had a slit wide enough to get her left hand out.  Switching the knife to the other hand, she cut upward, finally slicing the tape that was around her abdomen.

This loosened up the plastic around her hands, and her motion was greatly improved.  She tried shifting the plastic up, but this was a case where her curvy figure worked to her detriment.  She continued her tedious work with the knife.

Chapter 5

It had taken a lot longer than she anticipated, but eventually she cut away enough of the plastic to get it up over her head and off.  Really, what she wanted most was to get the infernal gag off.

Her sweat worked to her advantage, as the dampened adhesive pulled away from her skin, and she was able get the blade underneath to cut it free.  She spat the rag out, grateful for the use of her mouth again.

It was well over a hundred degrees in the building, and she needed to get out.  She cut her legs free and stretched out a bit to get the feeling back in her limbs.  Then she grabbed her bag, and made her way to the door.

The door unlocked from the inside, and she stepped out into the cool ocean breeze.  Her phone had a signal again, and she quickly phoned HQ to report her location and situation.  Then, she went back to the palm copse and hid in the trees until help could arrive.

Chapter 6

True to their word, the thugs returned shortly before sundown.  By that time, however, the local police were waiting in ambush and swooped in to arrest them moments after they entered the building.

D.J. wore a wry smile on her face as she watched the handcuffed crooks being loaded into the back of a police cruiser.  She took particular joy in the hateful expression the leader gave her as they made eye contact.

Her satisfaction was short-lived, however, when her boss informed her that they no longer needed her at that location.  She pleaded with him a bit and convinced him to let her stay through tomorrow night, meaning she could have a full day to enjoy the location in a tourist capacity.

Chapter 7

When she returned to the hotel, D.J. felt like she could really use a drink, but she was still dehydrated from her captivity, so she guzzled a bunch of water and decided to lay down to rest her eyes.

The next thing she knew it was morning.  I must have been more worn-out than I thought.  She still had the rest of the day, however, to enjoy the beach and the hotel’s other amenities.  

D.J. took a quick shower, threw on a T-shirt and shorts, and went down to the hotel café for a nice brunch.  Housekeeping had been cleaning the room next door when she left, so she took her time, enjoying a deliciously-prepared eggs benedict, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a pair of mimosas.

When she returned to her room, she changed into a black bikini.  As she was gathering her sunglasses and towel, she noticed a box of Godiva chocolates sitting on her table, with an envelope saying “Congratulations” sitting on top.

D.J. thought it was nice of her boss to send her a gift for a job well done.  She opened the box, savored the chocolate aroma, and popped one in her mouth. As expected, it was delicious.  She put a second chocolate in her mouth and opened the card.

As she read it, her mood changed.

My lovely D.J.,
I just wanted to get you something special to celebrate solving your case.
Enjoy the chocolates. We’ll see each other soon.

D.J. slammed the card down, aghast at the creep’s audacity.  It was bad enough he bothered her at the office, but on assignment, too?  First of all, how did he know where she was, and second, how did he know her room number?  She was going to get to the bottom of this and ask the concierge if he saw whoever delivered it.

As she stood up to get her shoes, she got extremely light-headed.  Surely, the mimosas weren’t strong enough to be hitting her like this.  Then the realization smacked her in the face — The chocolates were drugged!

D.J. went for her phone to call for help, but two steps later, she fell to the floor, unconscious.

Chapter 8

“Hello, lovely.”

D.J.’s eyes fluttered open, only to be horrified at the sight before her.  She was lying down on the hotel bed, and a man was sitting next to it. His face was covered in a black hood with a red silkscreened spider design covering where his face should be.

She tried to pull away, but her arms and legs were tethered to the four corners of the bed, along with another rope tied around her waist, pinning her to the mattress.  She screamed in fear, but the sound was muffled by the large rubber ball filling her mouth.

The man put a gloved hand over her mouth, silencing it further.  “Shh,” he said, in poor attempt at comfort. “You know I’d never hurt you.  I love you too much.”

D.J. slowed her breathing, wishing her heart would do the same.  The worst thing she could do right now was panic and risk angering her captor, especially since she was completely helpless.

Seeing she was calming down, Spider pulled his hand away from her mouth, only to drag his fingers across her cheek, down her neck, and linger at her collarbone.  “You are such a beautiful woman, D.J. It’s hard to believe that rope makes you even more so.”

Was this creep for real?  Who in their right mind would think this is flattering?  D.J. glanced down at herself, relieved to discover he had left her bikini on.  It wasn’t much, but she would take whatever covering she had. It likely meant rape wasn’t his intention — at least not initially.

“Oh, how I’d like to take you home with me,” he continued, “but it’s too soon in our relationship for that.  You need to learn to appreciate and savor your bondage first.”

With no other avenue, D.J. begged to be let go, but the gag garbled her speech, and a line of drool formed at the corner of her mouth.

Spider wiped her chin, explaining, “Sorry about this.  I’d intended to use the red ballgag, but this black one complemented your swimsuit so much better, even though it is a size larger.”

D.J. just stared at him, unsure how to respond.  He was obviously deranged, but upsetting him might make things worse.

“My god, you’re even more gorgeous in person,” he mused, stroking her thigh.  “I’ve admired you so long from a distance, and it’s amazing to finally be this close to you.”

D.J.’s leg tensed involuntarily at his touch, but she forced herself to remain calm.

“In any case, I wanted to keep our first meeting short,” he explained, “just to give you a taste of what’s to come.”  He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small pocket knife, and opened the blade. He set it on the mattress above her head.  “You’re resourceful, so you should be able to get to this and cut yourself free. If not, then I’m sure housekeeping will find you in the morning and let you go.”

D.J. whined at the thought of being tied up all day and night.

Spider ignored her and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead through his mask.  “Farewell, my lovely. We’ll be seeing each other again in the future.”

D.J. tensed up, knowing that reasoning with the maniac was impossible.  She had mixed feelings as she heard him leave and the door lock behind him.  She waited a few minutes to make sure he wasn’t coming back, then set her mind on the knife.

She pulled her hand as far toward it as she could, but of course it was out of easy reach.  As much as she wanted to pound the bed in frustration, she knew that one wrong move could bounce it someplace completely inaccessible, and she’d be stuck here all night.

Gently, she took a handful of the sheet cover and pulled slowly.  Fighting the pressure of the tucked sheet and her own body weight, she maintained a steady tension until it began to shift.  Trying again, she found her fingertips just touching the blade. Not wanting to risk losing it, she pulled against the ropes with all her might and pinned the blade between her index and middle fingers.  Though the rope was biting into the tender flesh of her wrists, she managed to bring the knife to her hand.

Relieved the hard part was done, she tilted her head up and began sawing at the rope.  Of course, he had doubled it, so it was going to take twice as much effort. Fortunately, Spider hadn’t played a dirty trick on her by giving her a dull blade.  That would have been the icing on an already terrible cake.

After considerable effort, she felt the knife break through the second rope, and she squealed in joy as she pulled her arm down.  She placed the knife on her chest and reached around to unbuckle the accursed gag. Once it was off, she cut the rest of her bindings, thankful that he’d left her with a means of escape.

As she rubbed at the rope marks on her wrist, D.J. debated on what to do.  She could call HQ and report the attack, but they’d likely send a forensics team to turn her room upside-down, and completely ruin her evening.  Given that Spider had eluded discovery thus far and was wearing a mask and gloves, the likelihood of them finding anything useful was slim to nonexistent.

No, there were a few hours of sunlight left, so D.J. decided to go have a strong drink (or five) and try to put it out of her mind until tomorrow.  If Spider had wanted anything more, he had his opportunity, so she was likely safe for the immediate future. Tomorrow, she would file the report. Now, it was mojito time.

As D.J. sat in her lounge chair, sipping her third drink, she was unaware that only a few hundred yards away, she was being watched by a nondescript man with binoculars.

“Resourceful as ever, my lovely,” he muttered, smiling.

Model D: She's the D.J., I'm the Wrapper
The first "episode" in my new secret agent series, envisioned as the old thirty-minute syndicated shows that used to run on the lesser TV networks in the late 1990s/early 2000s. 

Our heroine, D.J. Pryce, is on assignment looking for a terrorism-funding operation. Of course, she gets herself into a bit of trouble in the process, but the main villains might not be the only threat...

The first draft of the novella I've been working on is finished, and I'm about halfway through the editing stages.  I've also posted a cover reveal on my WordPress blog, so you can go see it here:…
  • Listening to: ᛏᛣᚱ
  • Drinking: Coffee


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TheBoundArtist Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2019  Professional Digital Artist
Thank you so much for the favs and watching, it really means a lot to me!!!
hoodedmaster Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2019
No, thank *you* for producing great work!
TheBoundArtist Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2019  Professional Digital Artist
Lol your much too kind, it really means the world to me
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Thanks for the watch and fave!
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DrZpewpew02a by loraxxx  
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Thanks For Watching 3 by Chittron  
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Thanks for the fave!
hoodedmaster Featured By Owner Mar 11, 2018
Thanks for writing a fun yarn!
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