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"thumb_large_noncustom_y": "111", "thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "300", "thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "167" } ], "pools": [], "description": "[i]\nColleen’s mind drifted somewhere between consciousness and dreams as she lay on her side. She had no timepiece, so she had no idea how long it had been, but it felt like both a long time and no time at all.\n\nThe hold of the steamship was cool and damp, the bare steel walls glistening with condensation that rolled down their sides and gathered in pools along the floor. The chains that hung from the iron beams that made the underside of the deck above swayed in a matched rhythm as the side paddle steamer rolled in the growing swell. The occasional iron clang as one line of links struck another was the only sound aside from the groaning of the ship’s hull and the muffled chugging of the engine.\n\nThat is, save for the muffled grunts and curses from behind her tightly strapped muzzle.\n\nIndustrial espionage was a game as old as the Industrial revolution itself. As soon as the first water wheel started grinding grain into flour, and others wanted to copy it. There was a business to be upheld for those who were not afraid to pay for it. Colleen had many clients, from cotton kings to iron barons who were more than willing. Just last week she was playing the role of a mistress to a railroad investor, just so she could land her eyes on a new air compressor that had yet to be patented. Steel, mining, shipping, railroads, and electricity…Collen knew them all, and made sure none of them knew her.\n\nBut it was a sugar magnet that turned out to be her undoing. They had gotten a little too close, and not even a few nights of passion would shake the suspicions.\n\nThe collie lay on a workbench inside the hold, her body tightly sealed inside a latex straitjacket. Legs folded and tucked up, arms wrapping around her torso, and mouth sealed behind a heavy panel of leather and latex, she made quite the sight. The straps were buckled and padlocked, and the muzzle wrapped around her skull like a clamp. Collen was well and truly caught.\n\nShe had always been so careful, her British nationality and passport allowing her to slip underneath American security with a simple cover of neutrality. Although she had learned when it was appropriate to use her native accent, and when hiding it gained better results. Truthfully, the position of a spy had been a rather boring one, with little snooping or sneaking around and more gathering of information. Nothing like the romantic image, and more like an office worker. Taking jobs as a secretary being the best way to get close to the decisions being made and forwarding that information to her client.\n\nUntil she was caught, so to say. The collie had been out on a walk when she was grabbed from behind, strong arms wrapping around her and yanking her back into a solid wall of warmth. A low, no-nonsense voice in one of her folded ears had told her to be quiet, not to struggle, and Colleen submitted docilely as her hands were bound and mouth gagged, before being lifted up and deposited into a waiting wagon.\n\nColleen raised her head and peered around the hold. There wasn't much else she could really discern about her situation. The feeling of being bound and squeezed tightly, her mouth covered and tightly sealed made the voluptuous female feel no more different from the many bags of grain that accompanied her on this voyage. Like them, she had a feeling this was intended to be a one-way trip. The collie had long ago given up attempting to break free from sheer brute force, no amount of squirming or twisting had any effect on her latex prison. Only serving to potentially push her onto the floor…where she would be found by one of the crew making their hourly inspections and lugged back onto the table.\n\nColleen had no idea where she was being taken. Other than, based on the amount of rolling, time in transit, and size of the ship, it was clearly out to sea and away from the country. She suspected they were bound for Cuba, the destination of her target’s regular shipments of grain south and supply of sugar north. Best case scenario she was going to a Cuban sugar plantation to be someone’s concubine. Worst case scenario…well…there were a lot of chains to give weight, and they were far out to sea. However, that fear had been reasoned away for now by the thought that if their intentions were to send her to a watery grave, it would have been as soon as they got into international waters.\n\nNo, her best bet was to lay low, and wait until they reach port. Give them little reason to deal with her, and make plans for escape once she can take assessment of better surroundings. With that thought in mind, she laid her head back down, her hair spilling out to fan along the hardwood of the workbench, and closed her eyes.\n\nMaybe this could work in her favor…who knows what she could learn as a concubine? There would have to be an up-charge to her client, both for the necessary performance, and the tickets back to the United States once she did make her break for freedom.[/i]\n", "description_bbcode_parsed": "
Colleen’s mind drifted somewhere between consciousness and dreams as she lay on her side. She had no timepiece, so she had no idea how long it had been, but it felt like both a long time and no time at all.

The hold of the steamship was cool and damp, the bare steel walls glistening with condensation that rolled down their sides and gathered in pools along the floor. The chains that hung from the iron beams that made the underside of the deck above swayed in a matched rhythm as the side paddle steamer rolled in the growing swell. The occasional iron clang as one line of links struck another was the only sound aside from the groaning of the ship’s hull and the muffled chugging of the engine.

That is, save for the muffled grunts and curses from behind her tightly strapped muzzle.

Industrial espionage was a game as old as the Industrial revolution itself. As soon as the first water wheel started grinding grain into flour, and others wanted to copy it. There was a business to be upheld for those who were not afraid to pay for it. Colleen had many clients, from cotton kings to iron barons who were more than willing. Just last week she was playing the role of a mistress to a railroad investor, just so she could land her eyes on a new air compressor that had yet to be patented. Steel, mining, shipping, railroads, and electricity…Collen knew them all, and made sure none of them knew her.

But it was a sugar magnet that turned out to be her undoing. They had gotten a little too close, and not even a few nights of passion would shake the suspicions.

The collie lay on a workbench inside the hold, her body tightly sealed inside a latex straitjacket. Legs folded and tucked up, arms wrapping around her torso, and mouth sealed behind a heavy panel of leather and latex, she made quite the sight. The straps were buckled and padlocked, and the muzzle wrapped around her skull like a clamp. Collen was well and truly caught.

She had always been so careful, her British nationality and passport allowing her to slip underneath American security with a simple cover of neutrality. Although she had learned when it was appropriate to use her native accent, and when hiding it gained better results. Truthfully, the position of a spy had been a rather boring one, with little snooping or sneaking around and more gathering of information. Nothing like the romantic image, and more like an office worker. Taking jobs as a secretary being the best way to get close to the decisions being made and forwarding that information to her client.

Until she was caught, so to say. The collie had been out on a walk when she was grabbed from behind, strong arms wrapping around her and yanking her back into a solid wall of warmth. A low, no-nonsense voice in one of her folded ears had told her to be quiet, not to struggle, and Colleen submitted docilely as her hands were bound and mouth gagged, before being lifted up and deposited into a waiting wagon.

Colleen raised her head and peered around the hold. There wasn't much else she could really discern about her situation. The feeling of being bound and squeezed tightly, her mouth covered and tightly sealed made the voluptuous female feel no more different from the many bags of grain that accompanied her on this voyage. Like them, she had a feeling this was intended to be a one-way trip. The collie had long ago given up attempting to break free from sheer brute force, no amount of squirming or twisting had any effect on her latex prison. Only serving to potentially push her onto the floor…where she would be found by one of the crew making their hourly inspections and lugged back onto the table.

Colleen had no idea where she was being taken. Other than, based on the amount of rolling, time in transit, and size of the ship, it was clearly out to sea and away from the country. She suspected they were bound for Cuba, the destination of her target’s regular shipments of grain south and supply of sugar north. Best case scenario she was going to a Cuban sugar plantation to be someone’s concubine. Worst case scenario…well…there were a lot of chains to give weight, and they were far out to sea. However, that fear had been reasoned away for now by the thought that if their intentions were to send her to a watery grave, it would have been as soon as they got into international waters.

No, her best bet was to lay low, and wait until they reach port. Give them little reason to deal with her, and make plans for escape once she can take assessment of better surroundings. With that thought in mind, she laid her head back down, her hair spilling out to fan along the hardwood of the workbench, and closed her eyes.

Maybe this could work in her favor…who knows what she could learn as a concubine? There would have to be an up-charge to her client, both for the necessary performance, and the tickets back to the United States once she did make her break for freedom.
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