Author's Note: Thanks to Jennifer Harrison for her assistance, and for letting me read her great-great grandmother's diary.

I write stories with bondage, not bondage stories, so this story isn't just a collection of tie-whip-rape scenes with a little bit of filler. If that's what you're looking for you'll be disappointed, so go elsewhere.

My father, Sir Charles Harrison, FRS, DPhil, was dying. He had been dying for months, but now, in this first week of June, 1889, the end was near. He was wracked by another spasm of coughing, and the cloth he held to his lips was stained with blood. "Jenny, come closer," he whispered.

I moved closer to his bed. "Yes, I'm here."

"I'm fading fast, child, so listen carefully. First let me say how much I regret that you wasted your youth caring for me. You should have been mingling in society. A girl as beautiful as you would have had no trouble finding a suitable husband. Now you're a spinster."

"Oh, Father! I'm only 23. I'm not on the shelf yet. The students pay plenty of attention to me, although talk of marriage has been notable by its absence."

"Students, bah! Most of them want nothing more than physical pleasure from a beautiful young woman. I'm glad you realize that."

"I do, Father. The only one who was different was Robert. He said he loves me, and I have feelings for him." Speaking of Robert reminded me of something I had not told my father. "I forgot to mention that I received a letter from Robert today. He has safely arrived in Australia. He said he plans to leave Perth and travel into the interior."

My feelings for Robert were stronger than I implied. On the night before he departed we made love, the first and only time I have done so. It was not unpleasant, apart from a brief moment of pain, but I did not experience the passion that I had anticipated. Perhaps it was because were were both inexperienced and perhaps because the circumstances were not ideal. For whatever reason, I could appreciate the truth of the conventional wisdom; that marital sex is a husband's right and a wife's duty, however unpleasant she found it to be.

"Robert is a fine lad, but, frankly, he was not the best of my students, always wasting his time with impossible schemes instead of concentrating on the fundamentals. I hope he does well in Australia, because he's even poorer than we are. He could barely support himself, let alone a wife, and he had no prospects in England."

"Poorer than we are? Are we poor, Father?"

"I'm afraid so. I made some unwise investments and lost what little capital we had. All we have now is my salary. This house and its staff are provided by the College, and when I die they will not be available to you. Your education has been unconventional, and it has not prepared you to support yourself in today's world. Even in these modern times the only real choices for most women are marriage or, or ..."

"Prostitution? My unconventional education has taught me about the realities of the world, and also about human sexuality. You should know this, you instructed me yourself."

My father smiled. "You never were one for euphemisms, were you? Prostitution isn't the only choice, although for a girl raised as you have been the alternatives are not much better. Ideally, you would be married to a man who could provide for you and whom you might come to love. You may yet meet such a man, but since you need a living now I have found a position for you. Lady Agnes Dalrimple, whom I have known for almost 30 years, is going to tour the Continent and she needs a traveling companion. She expects to spend the summer and autumn in Germany and the winter in Italy. Agnes is a great admirer of all things German, and especially of Otto von Bismarck, the Chancellor. She also hopes to obtain an audience with the new emperor, Wilhelm II."

"What would be my duties as her traveling companion, besides providing the usual appearance of propriety?

"Agnes wants you to handle the details of the trip; buy the train tickets, make the hotel reservations, supervise the porters, all of the mundane tasks involved in traveling. She offered the position as a favor to me and as a token of our long friendship, but what really persuaded her to accept you was your ability to speak German, French, and Italian. She will pay you ten pounds per month, and will also pay all of your expenses, of course." He paused as another bout of coughing consumed him. "There is something else I must mention. Agnes has never married, even though she was a beauty in her youth and an heiress besides. She turned down literally dozens of proposals. She is..."

"Of the Sapphic persuasion?"

"Now who's resorting to euphemisms? Bluntly, Agnes likes to have sex with women. She has never made a secret of this; in fact, she boasts of it. It seems one can flout convention with impunity when one is rich, and also the daughter of a duke. Her partners have never been women of her own age and class, they have always been younger, more dependant women, women she can dominate. Her personal maid is her current lover, but she may try to seduce you. Are you comfortable with this?"

I shrugged. "I don't care what her sexual preferences are, and I suppose being forced to accept a noblewoman as a lover is better than working in a brothel. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I don't have a lot of options."

My father died later that night. His funeral took place a few days later and it was attended by all of his colleagues and most of his students. Lady Agnes was the only outsider present. After offering the usual condolences she arranged to meet me later, and that evening she called upon me.

"Ah, Jenny! You are the image of your mother when she was your age. She had the same brown eyes, the same red hair. And she was beautiful, just as you are. What a tragedy that she died so young."

"Thank you for the complement, Lady Agnes. I'm sure my life would have taken a different course if my mother had survived my birth."

Although Lady Agnes must be in her forties if she was a contemporary of my father, she still possessed much of the beauty of her youth. She was an inch or two taller than my 5' 4", and her body was well-shaped, with a large bosom and a slim waist, both accentuated by her corset and tight bodice. Her eyes were green, and her light brown hair did not show any visible gray.

After a moment of silence Lady Agnes continued. "Jenny, your father and I negotiated your remuneration and the other terms of your employment. Did he discuss them with you and are they satisfactory to you?"

"Yes, Lady Agnes. You are quite generous."

"I do not mind paying for value received. If you follow my rules and perform your duties diligently you will be rewarded, but if you fail you must expect to be penalized. Do you agree that this is fair?

"Yes, Lady Agnes. That seems fair."

"Good, then you understand what I expect from you. I want to travel to the Continent as soon as possible. Are you prepared to leave immediately?"

"Yes, Lady Agnes. I have disposed of what remained of my father's estate. He had distributed his library and most of his other possessions to his colleagues before he died. One of them has offered to store my belongings, mostly books. I've packed my traveling clothes and I can depart whenever you wish."

"Very good. Tomorrow we will travel to London and spend a few days at my hotel while making the final arrangements to travel to Berlin by way of Paris. I will call for you here tomorrow morning at 8 AM sharp."

I spent the rest of the evening doing all of the last minute tasks that suddenly seemed to appear. It was a wrenching experience to leave the home of my youth, but with my father gone there was nothing to hold me here. My last act before retiring was to write a letter to Robert, telling him of my father's death and of my employment with Lady Agnes. Since the only address I had for him was 'GPO, Perth, Western Australia', I did not know when, or if, he would receive it.

The next morning Lady Agnes appeared on schedule. The coachman loaded my trunk into the boot and we drove to the railway station. A young woman was in the carriage, sitting next to Lady Agnes. She was blonde with light blue eyes and a voluptuous figure that her drab clothes could not hide. Lady Agnes introduced us. "Jenny, this is Betsy, my personal maid. Betsy, this is Miss Jennifer Harrison, my companion."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Jennifer," Betsy cooed. I responded with a nod. Betsy and Lady Agnes were practically in each other's laps, confirmation, if any was needed, of my father's information.

Soon we were on the train to London and we arrived without incident. Lady Agnes gave me some coins. "Find some porters and get us a cab, Jenny. I want you to demonstrate your ability to act as my companion."

So I began my new life as Lady Agnes' quasi-servant. I was mildly insulted by her implication that I could not perform mundane tasks, though. I may be provincial, but I'm not completely unaware of the routines of the metropolis. But I didn't comment, I just obtained a cab and got our luggage loaded into it. Remarkably, we journeyed without incident to our hotel. I was able to oversee the bellboys, difficult as that might be, and soon we were installed in the suite Lady Agnes had reserved.

Our suite contained a sitting room, a large bedroom, and a small bedroom, which was assigned to me. Lady Agnes insisted that I unpack immediately and she inspected my wardrobe. "This is totally inadequate, Jenny. I would be ashamed to be seen with a companion whose clothes are as shabby as these, and your luggage would be rejected by Gypsies. The shops are still open. We must remedy this at once."

I protested, "It is true that my clothes are somewhat worn and unfashionable, Lady Agnes, but I am without the means to purchase replacements."

"Good clothes are necessary, so they are considered to be expenses, for which I agreed to pay. Come, time is limited."

And away we went. We toured numerous shops and bought items that I never considered before, a corset among them. Before we were finished Lady Agnes had spent more than fifty pounds to outfit me. We also stopped in a bookshop and I bought some Baedekers and railway timetables.

That evening Lady Agnes and I ate an unfashionably early dinner in the hotel dining room, because she wanted to attend a performance at a music hall. "I know many consider them to be vulgar", she half-apologized, "but I enjoy them. You must come with me, Jenny, because if I go alone I will be endlessly propositioned by vulgar louts looking for a lady of the evening."

I had never been to a music hall and this was not much of an inducement to attend one. However, Lady Agnes did employ me to be her companion, and this definitely fell into that category, so I accompanied her to a hall called the 'Empire', located near Leicester Square. We took seats in the stalls, the higher-priced seats. The rest of the room was filled with the lower classes, and while there was a good bit of noise before the program began it was good-humored. Every man in the house seemed to be using tobacco, and the hall filled with choking clouds of smoke, much to my annoyance.

There were over a dozen acts listed on the program; singers and dancers and comedians. Some were good, others less so, but all were tolerable. Two acts that I especially enjoyed were a comic sketch, 'The Water Board Man', and an American cowboy who rode a magnificent horse onstage and performed amazing rope tricks. At the end of the regular bill was a 'Special Performance', featuring an illusionist billed as 'The Great Marvolo'.

The placard announcing the next act was placed on the stage, proclaiming "The Great Marvolo & Bella". ('Bella' was in much smaller type than 'The Great Marvolo'). Marvolo was a tall, handsome man, with black hair and moustache, clad in the stage magician's standard garb of tailcoat and white tie. His assistant Bella was a beautiful young woman with long dark hair, worn in a loose single braid that trailed down her back to below her waist. She was wearing a scandalous costume; white, sequined tights and top, with a tiny pleated blue skirt that didn't reach her knees. She was completely covered except for her head and forearms, but the tight costume fitted her like a coat of paint, perfectly revealing her slim yet shapely body.

Marvolo performed the usual conjuring tricks; pulling a rabbit out of a hat, making coins disappear, and levitating Bella, making it appear that she floated in the air. Even I had seen this sort of thing before, and the audience, while tolerant, was not enthusiastic. This changed, however, when the stagehands brought out two posts, each six inches thick and almost six feet tall, and bolted them to the floor. This took some time, and while it was going on Marvolo appealed to the audience for volunteers. Eventually three men and two women climbed onto the stage, Lady Agnes among them.

Marvolo provided yards and yards of white rope, and the male volunteers used it to bind Bella to the left-hand post. They crossed and tied her hands behind it and then wrapped more rope around her body and the post until she was bound from neck to ankles. The men were rather enthusiastic and certainly not gentle, pulling the rope tightly enough to indent her flesh. When they finished Marvolo had the women inspect the result and affirm that Bella was completely helpless. He gave the women red silk ribbons to interweave among the ropes around Bella's torso.

Marvolo then covered the post and Bella with a blue velvet drape. This drape had a stiff circular top, so when Marvolo placed it on top of the post and released it, it formed a blue cylinder, completely hiding the post and its captive woman from view. He then covered the empty right-hand post with a similar drape. After some "mystic incantations" and similar mumbo-jumbo Marvolo uncovered the left-hand post and it was empty! There was a gasp of surprise from the audience. Marvolo uncovered the right-hand post and revealed the young woman, still bound. The ropes and the red ribbons were in the same places as before. There was another gasp from the audience and then enthusiastic applause.

Marvolo covered Bella's post and the empty post and again said the mystic incantations. When he removed the cover and revealed the right-hand post it was empty, except for loops of rope around its base. He removed the cover from the other post and the young woman stepped away from it, completely free of her bonds. She took a bow to tremendous applause.

But the performance was not over. The stagehands rolled out to center stage a wooden cabinet, which I estimated to be about three feet wide and eight feet tall, mounted on a wide base about a foot and a half thick. The front of the cabinet was made of thick glass, with two four-inch wide iron straps wrapped completely around the cabinet as reinforcements, one about three feet down from the top, the other about three feet up from the bottom. At the top of the cabinet, in one corner of the glass, was a clock. It had a single unmoving hand and its face was divided into six parts. The cabinet was almost completely filled with water.

Marvolo now addressed the audience. He had a German accent, but he could be clearly understood. "Ladies and gentlemen, this next trick is very dangerous, and only years of training allows Bella to perform it and live." Two stagehands brought out a heavy wooden box and dumped a pile of thick chains on the floor. Marvolo turned to the volunteers on the stage, four shiny black padlocks in his hands. "If you would assist me, gentlemen. First examine the chain and these locks and affirm that they are genuine." The three men did this, rather perfunctorily, I thought.

Then they proceeded to chain up Bella. Marvolo produced shiny black handcuffs, and a male volunteer locked Bella's hands behind her back. Another volunteer, guided by Marvolo, wrapped a chain diagonally over each of her shoulders and through her crotch, locking it in place with a padlock placed over her navel; this action brought a murmur from the audience. The third volunteer wound a long chain around her torso above and below her breasts, this chain fastened by a separate lock between her breasts. Finally, Marvolo himself locked a chain around her waist, then wound it down her legs and around her ankles, fastening it with the fourth padlock.

Marvolo addressed the women on stage, "Ladies, please examine the locks and chains. Will you confirm that Bella is inescapably bound?" Lady Agnes and the other female volunteer examined the chains on Bella's bound body, then they nodded.

Marvolo produced a small object from his pocket and held it up. "This is a common nail. Bella will use it to pick the locks and free herself. It is not a key of any sort." He handed it to one of the volunteers. "Will you confirm this?" The volunteers passed it around. When it reached Lady Agnes, Marvolo instructed, "Put the nail in Bella's right hand." Lady Agnes did so, and Bella clutched it in her fist.

A stagehand rolled out a stairway with a platform at the top and placed it up against the cabinet. Marvolo picked up Bella and put her over his left shoulder. He climbed the stairs and stood Bella next to him on the platform. "Now for the final step, ladies and gentlemen. I am going to submerge Bella in the water and close the lid. The lid is locked in place by a latch that can only be opened from the inside. Only Bella can open it, so she will be cut off from any outside help. She can reach the latch only if she can float to the top of the water, and the weight of any of the three chains will keep her submerged. She must free herself from them completely or she drowns."

Marvolo lowered Bella into the water and she immediately sank to the bottom. Marvolo slammed the thick wooden lid closed and started the clock, which began counting off minutes. The orchestra played music with a tension-building tempo. The water was somewhat murky, but I could see Bella twisting and turning, crouching then standing. Occasionally she released bubbles of air from her mouth. As time passed I grew more tense, and I'm sure the rest of the audience felt the same, for there was not a sound except for the ominous music.

Marvolo descended from the platform and stood beside the cabinet, looking out at the audience with his arms folded. After a minute or so he glanced into the cabinet, and then he started to fidget, apparently concerned by Bella's lack of progress, for her hands were still behind her back and none of the chains had been loosened. I had a terrible thought: What if she had dropped the nail? Was I going to see a young woman drown right before my eyes? I looked away from her, watching Marvolo instead.

After three minutes had gone by there were cries from the audience and soon someone shouted, "Get her out!" Marvolo responded with a shrug and upraised hands, then pointed to the latch on the top of the cabinet and shook his head. By now Bella had been underwater for almost five minutes and I looked back at the cabinet, fearing the worst. I was astounded to see Bella open the last padlock and kick the chain off her ankles, then swim to the top of the cabinet. She pushed open the lid and rested with her chin on the top edge. Marvolo quickly climbed the stairs and helped her stand on the platform. They bowed and the audience responded with cheers and applause as the curtain closed.

When Lady Agnes joined me she was exhilarated. "That was the most amazing act I have ever seen! I have no idea how Bella was able to escape. I know the locks and chains were genuine and they were tight on her body. How could she possibly pick all those locks with an ordinary nail? And how could she hold her breath for so long? As Marvolo said, she must have had years of training, yet she is so young. This has been an exciting evening."

I could agree with that.

The next morning I awakened to the sound of shouting. I put on my dressing gown and entered the sitting room. Lady Agnes was berating Betsy. "You worthless baggage! I told you to press my blue gown and it hasn't been touched! What have you to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry, my lady. I just forgot."

"Then perhaps I had better help you remember. Get the discipline bag."

"Oh no, my lady! Please, no." Betsy started to sniffle and I saw tears on her cheeks.

"Silence! Do as you are told."

Betsy entered Lady Agnes' bedroom and returned with a black leather Gladstone bag. She handed it to Lady Agnes, who commanded, "Strip! And be quick about it!"

To my amazement Betsy immediately took off all of her clothes and stood naked, with her hands at her sides. While she was doing this Lady Agnes took a peculiar brass object out of the bag. It was a strip of metal about an inch wide and an eighth inch thick. One end was formed into a square hook and the other end was bent into a ring. She put the hook over the top of the bedroom door and closed it, so the ring was accessible.

Lady Agnes took some thin white rope out of the bag. "Give me your hands, Betsy."

Betsy obediently clasped her hands and held them out. Lady Agnes wrapped the rope around Betsy's wrists a half-dozen times, knotted it, and then made several more turns between her wrists. Next, Lady Agnes fed the rope through the ring at the top of the door and pulled until Betsy stood on tiptoe. She tied off the rope to the doorknob and extracted a riding crop from the bag. "I think ten would be an appropriate number. Do you agree, Betsy?"

"Yes, my lady."

I was finally able to overcome my shock at seeing this bizarre scene. "Lady Agnes! Surely you do not intend to whip this girl. We are near the end of the nineteenth century, not the eighteenth. This is no longer acceptable."

Lady Agnes turned to me. "I want silence from you, too. How I maintain order in my household is my business, and I don't appreciate your interference. You agreed to follow my rules, did you not?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"You also agreed to be penalized if you did not, isn't that true?"

"Yes, but... "

"Would you like to take Betsy's place?"

"No, of course not!"

"Perhaps that would be too harsh for your first offence. But you need to understand who is in command here, and I need to be sure you will do as you are told. Stand in the corner!"

"What?"

Lady Agnes pointed to a corner of the sitting room. "Stand in that corner, with your face to the wall."

This was a turning point. It was obvious that if I did not obey her she would dismiss me, and I would be in desperate straights. To be punished as though I were a naughty child was humiliating, yet she did have a reasonable argument. I had agreed to follow her rules, and it was presumptuous of me to criticize her. And Betsy wasn't complaining. I now realized this must be a common occurrence in their relationship; I had read about such things, and their possession of specialized equipment confirmed it. I silently walked to the corner and stood there.

Lady Agnes moved behind me and pressed a book to my forehead. "Hold this in place against the walls. If you let it fall you will experience Betsy's punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lady Agnes. I'm sorry I interfered, I won't do it again."

"This punishment will help you remember that promise. Put your hands behind your back."

I did so, and was not surprised when Lady Agnes crossed my wrists and tightly bound them together with the thin rope. This was the first time in my life that my hands had been tied, and it produced some unusual feelings, feelings I could not interpret.

I heard the smack of the crop, and there was no mistaking Betsy's feelings. She let out a muffled scream. I couldn't turn my head to look, but it sounded like she was gagged. She screamed after every stroke, and when they stopped she was sobbing. Soon after this Lady Agnes left the suite, leaving us miscreants to suffer by ourselves, each in her own way. While my punishment did not compare to Betsy's it was still unpleasant. I did not dare move, for I was sure that I would be beaten if the book fell, and standing in one place soon became uncomfortable, not to mention boring.

An hour or so later Lady Agnes returned. She untied Betsy and told her to get dressed and start packing. Then she came over to me. "So, Jenny. What have you learned from this experience?"

"I learned several things, Lady Agnes. First, she who pays the piper calls the tune. If I am to continue in your employ I really do have to follow your rules. Second, I should not act hastily. I knew about your relationship with Betsy, so I should have been prepared when you punished her. I was educated by my father, so you must know that I do not have the conventional views on sexual behavior, or the usual ignorance, either. I promise not to interfere in the future."

She turned me around and kissed me full on my lips, the book dropping to the floor with a thud. I did not respond to the kiss with enthusiasm, but I did not display any revulsion, either. "I am glad this has turned out so well, Jenny. You have learned your lesson without forcing me to punish you harshly. Now let's hurry, I want to be in Paris tonight. Betsy will help you pack when she finishes with my luggage."

I half-turned away from her and held out my wrists as far as I could. "Excuse me, Lady Agnes, but I am still bound."

She laughed. "So you are. I had forgotten. Turn around, and I'll untie you."

She freed my hands without delay, but neither she nor I believed she had 'forgotten' they were tied. This was a test of some sort. I wondered if I had passed or failed.

We left the hotel and took a cab to the railway station, then a train to Dover, where we boarded the ferry for Calais. The weather was fine, with blue skies and warm temperatures, and the Channel was unusually calm. Neither Lady Agnes nor I were troubled by sea sickness, but Betsy felt a bit queasy and skipped luncheon. Once ashore in Calais we boarded a train for Paris and arrived there without incident. The Exposition Universelle had opened last month and was drawing crowds to the city, although the peak attendance would doubtless occur next month on Bastille Day, the hundredth anniversary of the French Revolution. I had reserved by telegraph a suite at the Grand Hôtel Terminus, a new hotel completed just a month earlier. Lady Agnes described the accommodations as 'adequate'.

Both Betsy and I begged Lady Agnes to stay an extra day in Paris so we could visit the Exposition. She was not an admirer of anything French, and she "deplored" the Revolution, but she acceded to our request. The Eiffel Tower served as the entrance arch to the Exposition, and it "towered" over the city. I wanted to climb to the top, but the public was only allowed up to the second level. Lady Agnes said this afforded the best view of Paris, because "From here you can't see the damned Tower". I concurred, and she and I were both glad the Tower would be dismantled at the conclusion of the Exposition.

Lady Agnes surprised me that evening. "Jenny, you have led a sheltered life, and I want to broaden your horizons. I have hired guides, and they will take us on a tour of the cabaret district in Montmartre. We absolutely need a male escort or we will be regarded as prostitutes."

I was not enthusiastic. "I rarely drink spirits, Lady Agnes. A tour of taverns doesn't hold much appeal for me."

"A cabaret is much more than a tavern, Jenny. They have musicians and performers of all sorts. It is really just a bawdy version of a music hall. I insist that you accompany me."

When she put it that way I could hardly refuse. In the hotel lobby we met our escort, two handsome young men named Jean and Louis, and our tour commenced. We had drinks in every cabaret, and I quickly became tipsy. Lady Agnes spoke no French, so her escort Jean had to talk to me. I was amused and flattered by the complements and indecent suggestions I received from the men, and I found I was greatly enjoying this excursion into the sensuous side of Parisian life. I had a brief moment of lucidity around midnight when I remembered that we were scheduled to travel to Germany in the morning, and with a great deal of effort I persuaded Lady Agnes that it was time to return to the hotel. In the lobby I paid and dismissed the two men, who were visibly surprised and disappointed that their services would not be required for the rest of the night.

We managed to find our suite. Lady Agnes was obviously more accustomed to alcohol than I was, but I had frequently and surreptitiously exchanged my almost-full glass for her almost-empty one, so our levels of intoxication were similar, in that both of us were drunk. That is the only reason I can give to explain what happened next. The exact details are hazy, but it started when Lady Agnes criticized the French Revolution, stating that most of the political problems in today's world grew from it.

I protested, "You cannot believe that, Lady Agnes. The Revolution was a great step forward for the rights of man and for self-government. Have you not read the works of Paine, Wilberforce, even Robespierre? That excesses were committed during the Terror is regrettable, but overall the world is now better off." I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, but here, in the free and revolutionary city of Paris, I lost my inhibitions. The drink helped with that too.

Lady Agnes disagreed violently. "Self government! The rule of the mob, you mean. Government must remain in the hands of those qualified by birth and breeding to exercise power. Any other way leads to ruin."

"On the contrary! The only legitimate government is one that derives its authority from the people, not only in Europe, but everywhere in the world! And not just men. Women have rights too, and someday even a woman's voice will be heard in the corridors of power!"

"You have just crossed the line between insolence and sedition. Such talk could destroy the British Empire! You think yourself safe here in Paris, as they would probably fete you across the city and grant you a state pension for such treasonous speech, but if I had the authority you would be imprisoned or hanged."

"You are an evil tyrant. It is fortunate that you do not have such power, for you are a living relict of the dark ages. Liberté, égalité, fraternité!"

"Well, I still have the power to punish my insolent servants! I was lenient with you before, now you need a harsher lesson! Betsy! Betsy! Come here at once! And bring the discipline bag."

By the time a tousled and drowsy Betsy emerged from the bedroom, Gladstone bag in hand, I had evaluated my actions and realized I had gone too far. It is one thing to have a political discussion with one's employer, quite another to insult her to her face. Once again I faced a choice: Submit to punishment or find myself out on the street. And now I was in a foreign country, without the money to return to England. I knew my continued resistance would lead to my dismissal, and that would provide me with a swift passage to the poor house or worse, a life on the streets. I was as much in servitude as anyone chained and transported to our former penal colonies.

I knew that I had clearly transgressed against Lady Agnes' arcane and strict rules, but this was the end of the 19th century, not the dark ages! Surely a society that had become enlightened enough to dispense with chattel slavery would find only revulsion in the thought of whipping servants without consequence. Yet I knew that Lady Agnes would say she was of the 'old school'; 'spare the rod and spoil the child' was most definitely her motto. I had seen her treatment of Betsy, but that was part of their sexual relationship. Surely she could not punish me as severely.

"I am very disappointed, Jennifer", Lady Agnes said coldly. "I had hoped that you would show more maturity and intelligence than a mere slip of a girl, but clearly I was mistaken. From now on, when we are alone or with Betsy, you will address me as 'Mistress', is that clear?"

It wasn't clear at all. But I was already on shaky ground, so I did as she said. "Yes ... M-Mistress." I stammered and bobbed a curtsey, all pretence that I might be anything more than a servant now dispelled.

"Now ask me to punish you for your unacceptable behavior!"

I swallowed hard at this further humiliation, but curtseyed once more. No point in resisting now. "Please Mistress, I deserve to be punished and would be grateful to you if you will show me the errors of my ways".

"Very well. Take off your clothes, and be quick about it, girl!"

To remove my clothing at her command was humiliating, but I had gone too far to turn back. I took off my dress and Betsy unlaced my corset. I quickly stepped out of the petticoats and hardly hesitated even when I reached my final undergarments. Then I stood before her naked, the clothes so recently purchased piled up on a chair. On her signal, I held out my hands, palms together, and watched as Lady Agnes wrapped my wrists in white rope. She tied it tight and then wound the rope between my wrists, knotting it securely. She led me silently to the door and the ring just installed by Betsy, put the rope though it, and hoisted me up until only my toes touched the carpet.

I had never been corporally punished or even struck as a child, certainly not by my dear, gentle father, and my governesses were always the kindest souls. It seemed inconceivable that I was to be beaten in these circumstances, but there was now nothing to prevent it. Even now I could believe that Lady Agnes only intended to frighten me, and I would not actually be whipped. This belief became impossible to sustain when she filled my mouth with a thick cloth, the better to suppress the screams about to be wrung from me.

"I am most distressed that it has come to this, Jennifer. Your father was always such a good friend to me".

At the mention of my father the tears began to flow. Father, how could you have misjudged this martinet so badly that you delivered your daughter into her evil clutches? I could only hope he was now looking down on me and could offer some protection - he would certainly be my only comfort in the coming ordeal. The fear really first started to course through my veins when I heard the riding crop swish through the air.

"I gave Betsy ten strokes the other night, but your infraction is far more serious since you should have known better. I feel I must treat you harshly, so twenty will be your punishment."

Twenty? I nearly fainted. If I hadn't been tied to the door I would have collapsed. I heard the swish of the crop once more and this time it landed hard across my buttocks. My world exploded into pain, blotting out any other thought or feeling. I screamed so hard that the cloth gag could not possibly contain the sound and it must have been heard throughout the building. With a grunt of irritation Lady Agnes forced more cloth into my mouth and tied a thick bandana across the lower portion of my face to keep the gag in place and to further muffle my cries.

I put as much force into my screams as the second and third blows rained down on me, but Lady Agnes seemed satisfied that the sound was adequately contained. I shed tears as never before, trying but singularly failing to block out the awfulness of the events befalling me. Each stroke of the crop somehow contrived to be more painful than the last.

At some point it seemed Lady Agnes had covered every inch of my buttocks and now the blows began to revisit the original sites of unimaginable torture, thus doubling my torment. I had long since lost count of the strokes and had no concept of when, or even if, the torture would end. I prayed that I would die before it continued, then I prayed for forgiveness of whatever sins had led me to this terrible fate.

I only knew she had finished when the rope was released from the doorknob and I slid helplessly to the floor. Then I saw Betsy's tear-stained face above me and she was helping me to my feet, so she could lead me out and tend to my wounds. As I left, I glanced back at Lady Agnes. She was red in the face and breathing hard as she packed away that instrument of my misery, but I could see the light burning bright in her eye and knew that, however much she protested that she had just carried out an unpleasant duty, she had actually taken intense pleasure from this terrible event.

Betsy helped me into my bedroom and onto my bed. She untied my hands as I lay there face down, moaning with pain. Betsy whispered, "I've got some lotion, Miss Jennifer. It'll numb the pain." I felt a cold liquid on my inflamed bottom, and then Betsy's hands started to stroke gently. The lotion was effective, for the fiery pain was eased to a dull ache.

"Oh, Betsy," I whispered. "Please don't cry for me."

"If I don't, Miss Jennifer, then who will?"

Her compassion forced a smile from me. "How do you bear such mistreatment? You must be beaten often."

"Mistress only punishes me when I deserve it," she said seriously, "and from what little I overheard, you deserved all you received, harsh though it was."

I gave myself a wry smile and had to agree. "I did say some insulting things. But she actually enjoyed torturing me!"

"Each of us is bound by our nature, Miss," she said primly.

"Thank you, Betsy," I whispered as she continued to smooth the gentle unguent into my wounds. "That feels much better now. And please, call me Jenny."

"Then I can make you feel even better, Jenny. Roll over on your back."

She took hold of my hip and shoulder and rolled me onto my back, positioning a pillow at the small of my back to keep the pressure from my wounds. She blew out the candle and we were plunged into blackness. As she lifted my knees up and slightly parted them, my senses seemed heightened as I felt her fingertips move gradually down the inside of my thighs. I had no idea of what she planned to do, but my ignorance was quickly dispelled when I felt her fingers probing my pubic hair. "No! Stop!" I protested. "I don't want to do this."

"You don't know what I'm offering, Jenny. Just lie back and let me show you."

The girl was barely eighteen years of age, yet she did show me. Nothing in my early life had prepared me for the sensations now assaulting my body. Merely through the skilled application of her fingers and tongue to the most sensitive areas of my naked body she had me quivering like a jelly and whimpering helplessly. It was a forbidden subject, outlawed by the bible, but I knew that what I was feeling was the almost unbearable heights of sexual arousal. This continued until I felt a wave of pleasure that left me limp and spent.

Suddenly Betsy straddled me and I found a thigh pressing gently against each of my cheeks, my lips mere inches from her most intimate area. I smelt her body odor, a perfume familiar from my own body, though I had never before understood the cause.

"Please kiss me, Miss Jennifer." It came out as a high pitched whisper, belying the urgency and desperation expressed. I had assumed that the obviously close relationship between Lady Agnes and Betsy was just another aspect of the control exercised by the older woman over the younger, but as we lay together in the darkness of the bedroom I began to revise that opinion. Whether deprived of love during her childhood or desperate for some tenderness in her difficult life I didn't know, but the thought that she might just prefer the charms of women to men startled me.

I was in no position to enter a dialogue and, tentatively, I reached out my tongue and touched the wiry hair on her private area. "Oh, thank you, Miss Jennifer!" she exclaimed, as if I had merely given her a lollipop.

I actually found the taste pleasant, if a little outré, and felt encouraged to delve a little deeper. As I pushed through the hair to the skin below, Betsy let out another squeal. "Oh thank you, Miss!" she exclaimed again.

As she leaned down onto my body, I felt her nipples brush against my stomach and then her tongue split my nether lips and found the center of pleasure for any woman, which I did not know at the time but now understand to be the 'clitoris'. Whether by design or accident, Betsy had lowered her hips to such an extent that the scream of pleasure I let out as she closed her lips around it and sucked was almost completely stifled.

We continued in this manner for some time, Betsy guiding me as I learned how to pleasure a woman, me trying to keep up with her instructions as well as her example. Frequent repetitions of "Oh thank you, Miss!" encouraged me until finally she experienced the same rapture as had engulfed me. At last we fell asleep in each others arms.

Morning was painful in more ways than one. My bottom ached, my head ached, and I had a raging thirst. As I dressed I pondered the question of my relationship with Lady Agnes. I was still as dependent on her as before, but I could not face a life of pain and constant humiliation. I must prepare to go my own way if she could not treat me with respect.

Lady Agnes was in the sitting room and greeted me as I entered. "Good morning, Jenny. How are you this morning?"

"I've felt better, Lady... Mistress."

"No, no, call me Lady Agnes. We are not lovers, nor are you my slave. I was wrong to treat you so harshly last night, and I regret it. Let us pretend that everything that happened was just a drunken dream, and never speak of it again. Is that agreeable to you?"

"Yes, Lady Agnes. I too regret what happened last night." Although not everything that happened ...

Lady Agnes smiled. "Good. Then we can go on as before. On to Berlin!"

We booked sleeping compartments so we could travel from Paris to Berlin without leaving the train. After our arrival in Berlin Lady Agnes visited the British Embassy at her first opportunity, and the Ambassador agreed to request an audience with the Kaiser for her, although he could not estimate when, or if, this would occur. She decided to make Berlin the center of her activities until she either had the audience or it was refused, and not move on to southern Germany and Bavaria until then.

We spent the next few days seeing the sights in Berlin, and then we ventured further afield, with a trip to Dresden. The city's baroque and rococo city center has made it known as the 'Jewel Box', and I enjoyed seeing it. On the way back to the hotel Lady Agnes was looking out of the window of the carriage when she suddenly ordered the driver to stop. She pointed to a large poster outside a theater and exclaimed, "The Great Marvolo is appearing there tonight. We must see the performance. Jenny, buy two tickets."

I dutifully purchased the tickets and we returned to the hotel. Later that evening we arrived at the theater just as the doors were opening and got seats close to the stage. There were other acts, but neither of us paid much attention to them. Finally Marvolo appeared. His performance was as I remembered it, and when he asked for volunteers from the audience Lady Agnes insisted that I raise my hand. I hoped I would not be chosen, for I was nervous about appearing on a stage before so many people, but no such luck. The first person Marvolo selected was 'the young lady with the red hair', and I reluctantly climbed onto the stage.

Even with my close-up view I was unable to detect any trickery. Bella (the same assistant as before) was actually bound securely to the post and I didn't know how she escaped. During the 'underwater escape' part of the act I examined the chain and the locks very closely, but I could not detect any tampering, and it was a common nail that I put into Bella's hand. While Bella was actually in the cabinet I had to move to the side of the stage and the reflections on the glass restricted my view of her, so I saw no more than I did when I was in the audience in London.

After the curtain fell Marvolo thanked the volunteers. As I started to leave the stage he stopped me. "Excuse me, fraulein, may I have a word with you?" he asked in German.

"If it is not more than that. I must rejoin my companion," I replied in the same language.

"Ah, what a charming accent. You are not German."

"That's right, I'm English. Sorry, but I must go now."

"Then I will make this brief. Bella is returning to her home in Italy and I need another assistant. Would you be interested in the position?"

"Absolutely not!" I was insulted that he should ask, as I would never give up my reputation by appearing on the stage, but I didn't mention it because as a foreigner he may have made this improper advance out of ignorance. I pushed past him and left the stage, and he did not hinder me.

The next day we traveled west, to Chemnitz and then to Gorhalt, the capital city of the Duchy of Gorhalt. This was not a large city, but it had an unusual Gothic cathedral that Lady Agnes was especially interested in.

As we were finishing our evening meal in the dining room of our small hotel I asked Lady Agnes, "What is the status of a small, formerly independent Duchy such as this now that it is part of the German Empire?" I spoke in German, as I did not wish to mark us as foreigners.

She replied, "Now it is nothing more than an administrative department of the Empire, Jenny." She too spoke in German.

A voice interrupted, "That is not quite correct, madam. The Duchy still has quite a lot of autonomy. For example, we maintain our own local laws and are responsible for the administration of justice in the Duchy."

I looked up and was astonished to see that the speaker was Marvolo! "What are you doing here?" I exclaimed.

"This is my native city. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Maximillian von Gorhalt, when I am not on the stage."

Lady Agnes asked, "Von Gorhalt? Are you related to the Duke?"

"He is my uncle. Alas, I am the, how do you say, 'black sheep' of the family, and my uncle does not approve of me. May I join you?" Lady Agnes nodded and Marvolo sat down. "May I ask your names, ladies?"

"I am Lady Agnes Dalrimple and this is my companion, Miss Jennifer Harrison."

"Lady Agnes is the daughter of a duke," I added. I didn't know if he understood that 'lady' was a title, and I wanted him to know she was as aristocratic as he was.

"Honored to make your acquaintance, ladies. Of course I remember Miss Harrison, and I now recall you were at a performance in London, Lady Agnes."

"Your memory is correct, sir. We both greatly enjoyed your performances. Where will you appear next?"

"Nowhere, unfortunately. Bella has quit the act and I have not yet found a replacement for her. Unless you have reconsidered my offer, Miss Harrison."

I laughed. "Of course not. I don't wish to appear on the stage. Merely being a volunteer in Dresden was difficult enough for me."

Lady Agnes asked a question about the cathedral, and Max (as he requested we call him) answered knowledgeably. He ordered a bottle of wine, and the deference the waiter paid to him removed any doubts that he was the ruling Duke's nephew. Then the conversation shifted to German politics, and possible changes the new Kaiser might make in German foreign policy. Most of this was over my head, and I wasn't interested anyway, so my attention drifted off. I made a point of not partaking of the wine, having experienced its painful consequences in Paris. Indeed, I resolved that I would pass muster as a member of the Temperance Society.

The next day was a busy one. Max called for us shortly after breakfast and guided us on a tour of the Duchy. At his suggestion Betsy attended us, so it was a pleasant outing for her too. We did not return to the hotel until the late afternoon. Max left us there, but we agreed that he would join us later and escort us to dinner. "But not at the Schloss," he warned. "My uncle does not want to see me there."

As we crossed the lobby the clerk called to me. "Fraulein Harrison! A message for you."

"For me? That's strange. Who would send me a message?" The message, hand-printed on cheap paper, said that a letter for me was at the post office. "This is even stranger. Nobody knows I'm here."

Lady Agnes said, "I left my itinerary with the Embassy so they could notify me of any news about my audience with the Kaiser, and they know you are with me. Perhaps this is a letter from England they forwarded. But enough of this speculation. Go and fetch your letter."

I laughed. "That is the simplest answer. If you will excuse me, I'll do it right now."

But at the post office the mystery only deepened. They had no letter for me and had never had one. Shrugging, I returned to the hotel.

I had just finished dressing for dinner when Betsy pounded on my door. "Miss Jennifer! Come quick! Lady Agnes needs you."

I hurried to her room. Lady Agnes was holding her jewel box. As I entered she exclaimed, "My jewels are missing!"

"Are you sure? Maybe they fell into your suitcase."

"No, I've looked. They are not in this room. I put them away carefully last night, and now they're gone."

"Then they were stolen. I'll tell the hotel manager, and he can contact the police." I hurried down to the manager's office, just off the lobby, and reported the crime. He was shocked, protesting repeatedly that such a thing could never have happened here, but I finally got him to send for the police.

While I was waiting in the lobby for the police to appear Max arrived. "Hello, Miss Harrison. Is Lady Agnes ready? My carriage is outside."

"I'm afraid there has been some trouble, sir. Lady Agnes' jewels are missing, almost certainly stolen. The manager has sent for the police."

"That's terrible! I'll go to her at once. Bring the police to her room as soon as they arrive." He hurried up the stairs.

A few minutes later a policeman arrived, a large man in a dark gray uniform wearing a strange-looking hat. I guided him to Lady Agnes' room, and when he saw Max there he stiffened to attention, clicked his heels, and saluted. Max acknowledged the salute with a nod. He asked, "Do you know why you're here?

"Yes, my lord. The manager informed me that some jewels have been stolen." The policeman took a notebook from his pocket and laboriously wrote down our names, when the jewels had been seen last (last night), when they were missed (just a few minutes ago), and a detailed description of the jewels.

Lady Agnes asked, "What happens next?"

"I will refer this matter to the Investigation Bureau, madam. We will circulate the description of the stolen property to the jewelers and pawnshops and question the usual suspects. Most of this will be done in the morning. I must ask you and your servants to remain in the hotel until the Inspector says you can leave."

Max interrupted, "Nothing more will happen tonight. We can still go out to dinner. Is there any problem with that?"

"No sir. As long as everyone is here in the morning." He bowed, clicked his heels again, and backed out of the room.

"Then let us dine and try to forget this unpleasantness for now, Lady Agnes. This was probably the work of some petty thief. The police are very efficient, and there is an excellent chance that your jewels will be recovered."

"I hope that is true, Max. The jewels are not especially valuable, worth less than a thousand pounds, but they have great sentimental value and I would regret losing them."

The restaurant where Max took us to dinner was elegant and the food was excellent, but it was wasted on us. Lady Agnes was very upset and I mirrored her feelings. The conversation that night was of the poorest quality, almost entirely carried by Max's gallant efforts to amuse us. Neither Lady Agnes nor I were able to respond beyond monosyllables, or even listen to the facts and questions with which he sought to distract us. The evening ended early, and when we returned to the hotel both of us were in a glum mood.

The next morning after breakfast we were gathered in Lady Agnes' room when there was a knock on the door. I answered it, and a uniformed policeman and a man in a gray suit were in the corridor. He said, "Good morning, I am Inspector Braun. Is this Lady Agnes Dalrimple's room?"

The Inspector spoke in English, but his accent was poor, so I replied in German. "Yes, Inspector, come in. I'm Jennifer Harrison, Lady Agnes' companion. We've been expecting you."

He and the policeman entered the room and I introduced him to Lady Agnes and Betsy. He said, "The usual procedure in these matters is to question those closest to the scene of the crime and take their statements. I have the use of the room across the corridor. Please accompany me there, Lady Agnes."

Lady Agnes was only gone a few minutes and then it was my turn. I entered the room and the Inspector closed the door. He pointed to a straight-backed chair facing a small table. "Please sit there, Miss Harrison." I did so, and he sat in a chair on the opposite side of the table and extracted a notebook from his coat pocket.

"I understand you are Lady Agnes' companion, Miss Harrison. How long have you been in her service?"

"Just a few weeks. She engaged me during the first week of June."

"You do not share her room?"

"No, Inspector. We usually take a suite, but none are available in this hotel, so I have the room next to hers."

"Did you ever enter her room when she was not there?"

"No, I've never been in her room alone."

He stood up. "Thank you, Miss Harrison. That will be all for now."

We returned to Lady Agnes' room and the Inspector took Betsy across the hall. They were gone for some time, and when they returned Betsy was in tears. I suppose she was a prime suspect, since she was often alone in Lady Agnes' room, and the Inspector must have bullied her.

There was a knock on the door, and the Inspector answered it. Another policeman was outside and he whispered something to the Inspector, who left the room, closing the door behind him.

In about ten minutes they returned. "I have good news, Lady Agnes. We have recovered your jewels."

"That's quick work, Inspector. Where were they?"

"They were sold to a pawnbroker. He saw the description we circulated and notified us." The Inspector turned to me. "Is that your room next door, Miss Harrison?"

"Yes, it is."

He displayed a stack of German banknotes. "Is this your money?"

"No, I've never seen it before."

"Then how do you explain its presence behind the lining of your suitcase?"

"What? That's impossible!"

The Inspector shook his head. "You have been very clumsy. Both the pawnbroker and his assistant described the person who sold them the jewels as a red-haired young woman with an English accent, and you perfectly match that description. And as far as I know, you are the only red-haired Englishwoman in the city. You are under arrest."

When I heard the Inspector say, "You are under arrest" I was momentarily shocked into immobility. Then I jumped to my feet, but before I could move the policeman pulled my arms behind my back and the Inspector locked handcuffs on my wrists. As I was dragged to the door I shouted, "I'm innocent! You must believe that, Lady Agnes!" Then I was hustled outside and down the corridor. If she replied I did not hear her.

Each policeman took an arm and they hurried me down the stairs and through the lobby. With my hands locked behind my back I could not pick up my skirt. I tripped on it several times, and if the policemen had not been holding my arms I would have fallen on my face. People turned to stare at us and I was totally humiliated. I was crying now and the tears ran unhindered down my face. It was worse in the street, for it was crowded with morning shoppers. I was actually relieved when we reached the police station.

I was placed in a holding cell and there I remained for several hours. My wrists were still handcuffed behind my back, and they ached. These weren't the usual kind of handcuffs, with a chain between the bracelets, they had a swivel of some sort, and kept my hands close together. Eventually a policeman took me to another room where Inspector Braun and a clerk were waiting. He removed his handcuffs and I was finally able to wipe my tear-stained face.

The interview started easily enough. I was asked to state my name, age, address, and occupation, how long I had been in Gorhalt, and various other routine questions. The clerk wrote all of this down in a large ledger.

Then things got ugly. Inspector Braun snarled, "Well, are you ready to confess? It will go much easier for you."

"I have nothing to confess! I am innocent! I did not steal those jewels! This is all a terrible mistake, and I want to see the British consul."

"There is no British consul here." He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. "If you were German I might try to persuade you to confess. But a confession isn't necessary, as the evidence against you is overwhelming. I have other cases to solve, so I won't waste any more time with you." He turned to the policeman. "Take her to the woman's jail."

The clerk filled out a form and gave it to the policeman, who put it inside his hat before he handcuffed my hands behind my back. Then we were moving down a long corridor, the policeman's hand tight on my upper arm. We paused while he unlocked an iron door, and then we were moving across a stone-paved courtyard toward another iron door in a stone building. He pounded on this door, a peephole opened, and then the door was unlocked and partly opened by a hard-looking blonde woman wearing a dress the same gray color as the policeman's uniform.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Prisoner awaiting trial." The policeman took the form out of his hat and gave it to the woman.

She glanced at it, then opened the door, grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. Before she could close the door the policeman yelled, "Hey! I want my cuffs!"

"Come back in an hour." The woman slammed and locked the door. She led me into a corridor and then into another room. This room had bare stone walls, a stone floor, and a small heavily barred window looking out over the courtyard. It was furnished with several straight chairs, a sturdy table, iron-fronted cabinets, and a massive black-haired woman. She, and the women who brought me here, must have been chosen for their size and strength, for each was at least six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than I.

Blondie removed the handcuffs from my sore wrists. "Now, Fräuleinchen, let's get you checked into our hotel. You're not going to give us any trouble, are you?" She took a heavy strap from the table and ran it through her fingers.

By now I was terrified, and I shook my head violently.

"That's good. Now strip. To your skin. And if you want to keep that skin unmarked, do it fast."

All thoughts of modesty had vanished in the face of the terror I felt. I disrobed as fast as I could, piling my clothes on the table. I wasn't wearing my corset, so I was able to undress without help.

Once I was naked Blondie said, "Open your mouth." She looked inside my mouth. "Now bend over and put your face and arms on the table."

I didn't know what this was for, but I did as she told me. Then I felt a finger exploring my nether passage, and I was so shocked that I straightened up. She immediately struck my bottom with the strap, a blow so painful that I could only gasp.

Blondie yanked my hair and banged my head against the table. "Hold still, bitch!" She emphasized her remark with another blow from the strap. Now her fingers explored my vagina, taking longer than I thought was really necessary. Finally she finished, and I was allowed to stand up.

The other woman tossed me a dress, and I scrambled to get into it. It was made of worn cotton, unbleached, and it was nothing more than a long sack with holes cut out for my head and arms. It extended to just below my knees, and Häftling, German for 'prisoner', was stenciled in black on the front and back. When I had it on Blondie gave me a pair of felt slippers and I stepped into them. No other clothing was forthcoming.

Blondie took leg irons from a rack on the wall and locked them on me. My fears increased with every click of the ratchets as she tightened them around my ankles. This must all be a terrible mistake! Yet I was being pulled deeper and deeper into the depths of this hideous nightmare. My greatest fear was that Lady Agnes would believe that I really was a thief and abandon me to my fate in this alien land.

Blondie took me the other way down the corridor and unlocked an iron door in the middle of a row of identical iron doors. She shoved me into a cell and slammed the door. My new home was a bare stone cube. A narrow wooden bench fastened to the wall with iron straps was opposite the door and it extended from wall to wall. Under it I could see a pottery jug and a wooden bucket, while a folded blanket was on top of it. A small barred window pierced the wall above it.

I walked to the bench, the chain between my ankles rattling across the stone. Once there, I sat down, put my face in my hands, and wept.

Some time later the sound of a key in the lock brought me to my feet. Any hopes of release were dashed when Inspector Braun entered my cell. He was followed by two men I had never seen before, one, in his fifties, plump and with thinning gray hair, and the other younger, in his twenties, thin and scrawny.

Inspector Braun barked, "Harrison! Say, 'How much will you give me for these jewels?'."

When I hesitated he stepped forward and slapped my face. "Say it! Or we will have to use other means to persuade you."

I thought of Blondie and her strap and blurted out, "How much will you give me for these jewels?".

Inspector Braun grunted, then he and the men left the cell. The door slammed and I was alone again. I wondered who the men could possibly be.

I explored my cell , discovering that the pottery jug contained water and the bucket, to judge by its smell, was for human waste. The blanket was wool, but thin and with many moth holes. The window looked out on the same courtyard I had seen from the other window. It was still empty. Then, having explored my surroundings to their limited extent, I sat back on the bench and brooded. Time passed slowly, with no sound reaching me, until a narrow slot in the bottom of the door opened and a wooden bowl was shoved through it. It contained food, a stew of some sort, and I ate it with the wooden spoon in the bowl. Finally the sun went down and the cell darkened. I wrapped myself in the blanket, stretched out on the bench, and tried to sleep.

I was able to get some sleep, but I awoke the next morning tired and sore. Another bowl of food, this time porridge, was shoved under the door, and later in the morning a prisoner, accompanied by Blondie, collected the used bowls and exchanged my water jug and bucket. I supposed this was all the excitement I would have that day, but I was wrong. A short time later a well-dressed middle-aged man carrying a leather briefcase was admitted to my cell.

"Good morning, Miss Harrison. I am Herr Speer. I am a lawyer, engaged on your behalf by Lady Agnes Dalrimple."

I felt an immense surge of relief. I hadn't been abandoned! "It is so good to see you, Herr Speer. How soon can you get me out of here? I want to tell Lady Agnes how grateful I am for her support."

"I'm afraid that your release cannot happen just yet, and anyway, Lady Dalrimple is not here. She has returned to Berlin for an audience with His Imperial Majesty."

"But you can get me released soon, can't you? I am innocent."

Herr Speer raised his hand, palm facing me. "Let's not talk of innocence, and please, do not tell me you are guilty. Let us discuss the practical aspects of the case. I have seen the police report, and I recommend you plead guilty."

"Guilty! But I am innocent! Why should I plead guilty?"

"Because the evidence against you is very strong, and I believe you will be convicted if this goes to trial. You are more likely to receive a lenient sentence if you admit your guilt and express remorse."

I was astounded by this statement. "Evidence? What evidence?"

Herr Speer took some papers out of his briefcase. "Here is the police report. Inspector Braun is very thorough and a good detective. When you hear what he says, please consider these statements from the point of view of an impartial judge. First, you knew about Lady Dalrimple's jewels and had access to her room. The jewels could have been stolen at any time from when she took them off to when she found them missing, a period of almost 24 hours. They were sold in the afternoon, the day before yesterday. At that exact same time you left Lady Dalrimple's company and went off by yourself."

"Yes, I got a message saying I had a letter at the post office."

"The Inspector investigated that. The message was given to the hotel clerk by an unidentified street urchin sometime that morning, so anyone could have sent it. The postal clerk says you did ask for a letter there, but the post office is on the same street as the pawnshop and only 100 meters distant from it. Now here is the most damning evidence against you: Both the pawnbroker and his assistant described the woman who sold the jewels as young, with red hair, and speaking German with an English accent. When they saw you here in the jail they both positively identified you as the one who sold the jewels."

So that's who those men were. "That can't be. I was never in any pawnshop. They are lying."

Herr Speer shrugged. "The final piece of evidence against you is the money. The pawnbroker paid 625 marks for the jewels, the exact amount of the money found in your suitcase. Furthermore, the pawnbroker remembered that one 50-mark note had a corner torn off. This note was also found in your suitcase.

"Those are the facts. Then there is the question of motive. You have no money of your own, so you are completely dependent on Lady Dalrimple. But she treats you badly. You were severely beaten, were you not? By stealing the jewels you both revenge yourself on Lady Dalrimple and acquire the means to escape from her."

"Yes, she did beat me, but we were both drunk. She apologized the next morning and I accepted the apology. I'm not resentful, I'm grateful to her." I was reeling from the shock of these disclosures. Who could hate me so much that they would do this to me? "I did not steal the jewels! Somebody impersonated me at the pawnshop and planted the money in my suitcase."

Herr Speer shrugged again. "You have only been in Gorhalt for a few days. Have you done anything in that time to create such a vicious enemy?"

"No, I have done nothing of the sort."

"Did some enemy from England follow you here?"

"No, I have no enemies in England and besides, how would they know I am here? This must have been done for some other reason."

"What could that be? Lady Dalrimple will get her jewels back and the pawnbroker will get his money back. There is no financial benefit to anyone."

Things were looking very bad for me. "If I plead guilty what sentence would I receive?"

"I cannot give a definitive answer, of course, but I think the court would be lenient. You are a beautiful young woman, this is your first offense, and you are a foreigner. If you say you acted only out of anger, and if you say you are sorry, that will influence the court. Lady Dalrimple must be a woman of influence, and if she vouches for you I think the court will only order that you be expelled from the Empire, with no penal servitude."

"And if I am found guilty after a trial?"

"Then you must expect to spend a year, perhaps two, in prison."

"This is not a easy decision, Herr Speer. When will you require my answer?"

"I will return here tomorrow morning. I will need your answer then."

I thought of a way to resolve my dilemma. "Can you send a telegram to Lady Agnes, Herr Speer? Relate the facts to her, and also your recommendation. If she advises me to plead guilty I will do so, providing she knows I am innocent and only following your advice."

"Very well, Miss Harrison. I will do as you ask. Until tomorrow."

He knocked on the door and the jailor opened it. When he was gone I was alone once more.

I spent a restless night. I worried about Lady Agnes' reaction. If she did not believe I was innocent then I must plead not guilty, even if it meant that I would go to prison. In the best of circumstances this affair would inconvenience her, and being expelled from Germany as a convicted felon would not help my future prospects either. Perhaps prostitution would be my only career option.

I anxiously awaited Herr Speer's return, pacing my cell until my ankles were red and sore from the friction of my chains.

Finally he appeared. "I have received a reply from Lady Dalrimple. Here, read it yourself."

He handed me a telegram and I opened it anxiously. I noticed that my hands were trembling as I read it:

DEAREST JENNY

I KNOW YOU ARE NOT A THIEF X TAKE SPEERS ADVICE X HE WILL PROVIDE FUNDS AND HELP YOU LEAVE GERMANY X I CANNOT LEAVE BERLIN AT THIS TIME X

LOVE AGNES

I was immensely relieved that she did not think I was guilty, and even more gratified by the greeting and signature lines.

"I will take your advice and plead guilty, Herr Speer. When will I be sentenced?"

"Soon. It depends on the court schedule, but it may be as early as this afternoon, and not later than the day after tomorrow. I will meet you at the court. Goodbye for now, Miss Harrison. I wish you well." He knocked on the jail door and the guard opened it for him. I fervently hoped it would open for me soon.

The next hours were an agony for me. I couldn't sit still, and I kept pacing my cell until my ankles were raw. I did not hear anything for the rest of that day, and spent a sleepless night, consumed with anxiety. Herr Speer had said that it was unlikely that I would go to prison, but the mere chance of penal servitude oppressed me.

The next day I didn't see anyone until late afternoon, when Blondie entered my cell. She didn't respond to my eager questions, saying nothing except to order me to put my hands behind my back. She handcuffed me and hustled me out into the corridor. We walked for quite a distance, and I soon became disoriented as we traversed many corridors and passed through many doors.

Finally we entered an elegant courtroom, paneled in oak and with a high bench at one end. Much to my relief Herr Speer was present, seated at a table in front of the bench. Blondie led me to the table and Herr Speer seated me in a chair next to his.

It was only a few minutes before a clerk entered the room from a door behind the bench. He held it open for a judge in a red robe and a round red hat. Herr Speer stood and I also scrambled to my feet. Things moved swiftly from then on. The clerk called my case, and Herr Speer announced that I was present and that he represented me.

The judge asked, "Does your client wish to plead, Herr Speer?"

"Yes, your honor. My client pleads guilty."

"Is this your plea, Harrison?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well, the clerk will enter that as the judgement of the court."

Herr Speer said, "Your Honor, my client wishes to make a statement in mitigation. She..."

The judge interrupted. "That is not necessary. I have read the reports. Harrison stole from her mistress, breaching her trust. This is especially reprehensible. Accordingly, I sentence her to fifteen years in prison. Jailor, deliver the convict to prison immediately."

I could not believe what I heard. Fifteen years! I could not believe it.

Herr Speer was also astonished. "Your Honor, I must protest! This is excessive. My client has committed no other offense. This sentence is only appropriate for a hardened criminal, not a young woman!"

"I am the one who decides what is appropriate, Herr Speer. I do not want to hear any more from you. Jailor, take her away."

I was in shock. I don't remember much of my journey, only that I was taken first to the jail and then transported in the back of a closed carriage to the prison, together with two other women. Blondie, carrying a truncheon, accompanied us as guard. One of the other prisoners was in her forties, and had the look of someone who had suffered much in life. The other was young, barely more than a girl, with a pale face and pale blonde hair, and she sobbed continuously. Both women were dressed and chained the same as I. The older woman said her name was Hilda and the younger woman's name was Greta. I said my name was Jenny, and Hilda commented on my strange name and funny accent.

Blondie removed us from the carriage and hustled us through an iron-banded wooden door and then into a bare room. Three women of the same physical type as Blondie, except dressed in blue uniforms, were waiting for us. All had crops thrust under their belts. Also present was a man wearing a blue uniform and holding a double-barreled shotgun.

One of the women had chevrons on her sleeve. "I am Chief Guard Hess. You will address me, and all other guards, as sir or madam. But you will not speak without permission."

While she was talking Blondie had been removing the handcuffs and leg irons from the three of us. When she finished Hess continued, "We don't have such elegant clothes in this establishment. Strip!"

Hilda obeyed without hesitation, and I reluctantly followed suit, but Greta, seeing the male guard, shook her head violently. Hess pulled the crop from her belt and struck her a half-dozen vicious blows on her back and bottom that sent Greta to her knees, screaming wildly. Hess grabbed Greta's hair and shook her head violently.

"You don't disobey an order. You will be punished for this. Now strip!" She used her grip on Greta's hair to pull her to her feet. Greta turned her back on the male guard and pulled off her jail dress.

"Here, put this on", Hess barked. Another guard tossed to each of us a garment which looked to be no more than a potato sack with the bottom ripped open and shoulder strings to hold it up. As I pulled it on, the stench of root vegetable seemed to confirm my first impression.

The guards then fastened manacles on our wrists and ankles, thick iron cuffs joined by heavy chain. They were crudely forged, and could have been made in the middle ages. The only concession to modernity was that they were now locked in place by bolts that replaced the original rivets, bolts that a guard tightened with a spanner. We were lined up by a heavily studded door and prompted, through the application of a crop to our exposed thighs, to go through the door, which slammed with an awful finality behind us.

We were forced to shuffle down a narrow corridor past identical iron-clad doors and, one after the other, my fellow prisoners were pushed through a door, which was slammed and locked behind them before I could see what lay behind the door.

At last it was my turn and I found myself standing in a cell barely wider than the three bunks on the wall and lit only by the light filtered through the barred window in the door. Sitting on the top bunk and looking at me was a young woman, while in one corner sat a creature who must have been a woman, though it was difficult to tell. As I stared at her, she looked round with such a look of abject terror I hope to never again see. A moment later, she returned to her former activities of staring at the wall, hugging her filthy knees to her body and rocking back and forth.

"Don't mind Claudia" the other woman said, "She don't say much". The shock of hearing a broad cockney accent in such a place quite threw me and I stared dumbly at her.

"Charmed, I'm sure" she said sarcastically, "Name's Abigail, yours ?" My brain refused to work.

"Jenny!" I blurted finally. The woman before me had once been very beautiful, but now she wore a hideous scar from her left ear, across her cheek, to the point of her chin; her right eye was swollen and nearly closed; and dried blood was smeared from a cut somewhere in her hairline down to her bruised and lacerated neck. Every inch of her body not covered by sacking was marked by welts, old and new.

"Well, Jenny, I feel sincerely sorry for you."

"And I for you", I said as I sat next to her "You seem to have suffered very badly."

"Ha!" she let out a mirthless laugh. "That I have, but it will be so much worse for you. They always go for the pretty ones, and you are most definitely that." I would have thanked her for the compliment, but I knew it was no such thing. Despair overwhelmed me, and I crawled into the lower bunk and lay there, sobbing.

"And you can stop that too. Be nice and quiet, like Claudia there, and maybe we can get some rest. Plenty of time for tears." Needless to say, sleep evaded me for a long time.

We were woken as the doors along the corridor slammed open. As the new girl, I had to take out and empty the night bucket, which had to serve all three of us. After that, everyone shuffled down the corridor and out onto the stone-paved yard, surrounded on all sides by the forbidding facades of the prison. There was a watchtower on one corner, and I could see a guard with a rifle pacing back and forth. Somewhere, beyond the slate gray cloud and persistent drizzle, dawn had broken.

I shadowed Abigail as we were formed up into four lines facing a raised platform, perhaps a hundred of us, all clad in dirty sacks, all in heavy chains. We waited for some time before Hess and another guard mounted the platform. They accompanied a tall bald man in a shiny black suit.

He said, "Chief Hess, what offenses have I to judge today?"

"Just one, Governor. Disobeying an order." Two guards dragged Greta forward. She was obviously terrified, and only the guards' grip on her arms kept her from collapsing.

The governor asked, "Do you have anything to say, prisoner?" Greta's mouth worked, but she was too terrified to speak. "No defense? Very well. Twenty lashes."

One of the guards untied the strings supporting Greta's sack and it dropped to the ground, displaying her pale, thin body. There was a whipping post at the back of the platform. A rope ran through a hole near the top of the post and the other guard tied it to the center of Greta's wrist chain. They pulled on the rope until she was suspended by her wrists, and I could see blood trickling down her arms as the cuffs cut into her.

Hess stepped forward, a long black whip in her hand. Without any preliminaries she laid it across Greta's back. It didn't raise a welt, it cut like a knife, and Greta screamed. I could not watch; I shut my eyes, but I could not block my ears from the smack of the whip and the scream. Soon there was only the smack of the whip. I opened my eyes and saw that Greta was hanging limply from the rope, mercifully unconscious. Her back was just raw meat, and the blood streamed down her legs.

Finally we were marched away from the hideous scene and into another room, this one with tables and benches. As we entered we picked up a wooden bowl and it was filled with gruel, ladled out from a large copper vat. I was so foul that I could barely choke it down, but my fellow prisoners ate it eagerly. After this disgusting meal we lined up in the yard again and guards formed detachments of various sizes and led them off until I was standing alone. This ominous development worried me.

After several minutes a guard ordered, "Come with me." She grabbed my arm and led me to a door on the other side of the yard, my hobbled feet shuffling rapidly as I struggled to avoid tripping over the chain joining my ankles. We entered a room that was unlike the others I had seen so far, in that it's walls were not bare stone, but were painted a sickly green. Once I was inside the guard left, and two men in white coats removed my sack and unbolted the cuffs from my wrists. Once again I was naked, but I doubted this was the worst of my problems. This surmise was proven to be correct when the men strapped me into an iron chair bolted to the floor.

Another man in a white coat approached me, and my first impression was of being in the presence of pure, unadulterated evil. "Good morning, Fraulein Harrison, my name is Herr Doktor Tiermörder," he said in a raspy voice. "We are conducting an experiment here, trying to find a way to rehabilitate criminals. You have been chosen as a test subject as you have not yet been conditioned by the usual prison experiences. I hope you will cooperate with us."

I nodded. I was in no position to refuse him anything.

"From your records, I see you are a common thief."

"No, I'm innocent!" I protested weakly. "I just pled guilty because my lawyer said I would receive a lighter sentence." I watched, uncomprehendingly, as the doctor clipped a metal clamp to each of my nipples. Wires connected the clamps to terminals mounted on a large oak box. A crank was on the side of the box and a dial was on the top.

"Tell me again, fraulein, are you innocent ?"

"Yes! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!" The scream was wrested from me as electricity surged through my tortured body, making it dance to the doctor's tune as he rapidly turned the crank.

Tiermörder changed the setting on the dial. "Remind me, fraulein, you did not rob your employer?" He again turned the crank.

"No! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh! Please-Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!" Each time the dial went higher and the screams got louder.

"So you say the police are wrong? Perhaps you believe they fabricated the evidence against you?"

"Yes! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh! I mean no! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh! I mean-Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!"

I knew that I was utterly lost. I was just an object lesson for the entire prison. There was no gag, even the door was left open so my screams would carry as far as possible, letting every inmate know there was no hope, only endless torture.

This went on and on, until I finally fainted. My escape was temporary, however. I was revived and unstrapped from the chair and the two men put a canvas garment over my head, something I recognized from illustrations of madhouses - it was straight jacket, and I was strapped in tight. I was hustled towards the wall where an iron door about three feet high was opened to reveal a small dark void. They thrust me inside and my head hit the back of the space. I scrambled to face forward just as the door slammed shut. There was a small metal grille in front of my face, and the evil doctor peered in at me.

"It seems you are completely delusional, fraulein. I think a week. To start. Then I reconsider the case." He closed a small iron panel over the grille, and just before it slammed shut I could see that both it and the door were made of iron at least two inchs thick. Now I was in total blackness. Every scream bounced back into my face and I was sure not a sound could escape my tiny cell.

It seemed the opportune time to start losing my mind.

After a while I felt a thin stream of water striking my chest. I leaned forward and captured the stream in my open mouth for as long as it flowed. Apparently I was not meant to die of thirst. All I could do in this stygian blackness was endure the pain as best I could. I knew any sound I made would not penetrate the boundaries of the cavity holding my contorted body, but that did not keep me from screaming and then begging for release. After a while I just whimpered, sure that I was now entombed in my crypt.

The only way I could estimate time was by how often I had to urinate, and by that inexact calculation I was in the cell for two days. My cramped legs complemented my cramped arms, and I was in so much pain that I would have confessed to any accusation Herr Doktor Tiermörder made, if only he let me out. When the door finally opened I could not move, so I was pulled out of the cell by the two white-coated men and they peeled me out of the straightjacket. I was numb and just lay on the floor as they sluiced me with buckets of cold water and scrubbed my befouled body with a stiff brush.

I was still too cramped to move and I remained motionless for some time, until eventually one man pulled me into a sitting position and the other gave me a cold boiled potato. I wolfed it down, and it helped relieve the pain in my empty stomach. The men pulled me to my feet, dressed me in my sack, and bolted the manacles onto my wrists. I could hardly make my legs function, so they dragged me across the room to the door. On the way we passed a dissection table bearing the nude body of Greta, her lifeless blue eyes staring at the ceiling. That was the moment I knew I was destined to die in this hellhole of a prison.

A female guard was waiting at the door and she dragged me across the yard and back into the main prison building. I was not returned to my cell or put on a work detail; instead I was taken to the governor's office and stood in front of his desk. "Where have you been, prisoner Harrison?" he barked.

I was confused. Surely he knew that I was away being 'treated' by Herr Doktor Tiermörder. I stammered, "I... I... I..."

"Enough!" he interrupted. "You have absented yourself without my permission. The penalty is fifty lashes. Guard, tie her to the whipping post. She will be flogged at tomorrow morning's muster."

I could not believe this. I had been sentenced to death for a nonexistent offense, for if twenty lashes killed Greta fifty lashes would surely kill me. I did not cry or protest, for my mind could not grasp the enormity of this catastrophe. In a daze I was led out of the office and across the prison yard.

The guard tied the whipping post rope to my wrist chain and pulled me up onto my toes. It was only then, with the cuffs digging into my wrists, that I wept. Never could I have I imagined that my life would end in this way, tortured to death in a German prison, incarcerated for a crime I did not commit. My mind dwelt on the things I could have done differently to avoid this fate. Some were trivial, such as not going to the post office. Others were more substantial, such as not submitting to Lady Agnes' punishment and thus staying in England. Finally despair overwhelmed me, and all I did was weep.

A few hours later, and without explanation, a guard let my hands down, untied the rope, and led me outside the gate and into a small room near the prison entrance. She freed my wrists and ankles from the chains and indicated a pile of clothing on a table in the corner. "Get dressed," she commanded. "Don't talk."

I quickly shed the malodorous sack and examined the clothing. It was not what I had been wearing when I was arrested nor was it new, but it seemed to be clean and in good repair. There was a corset and a chemise, as well as a dark blue dress with a low neckline and short sleeves, but no other undergarments or stockings. I put on the chemise and the guard helped me lace the corset, making it tighter than I found comfortable, but I did not complain. I put on the dress and the guard buttoned it up the back. There were a pair of flat-heeled, black leather shoes, more like slippers than shoes, and I put them on.

The guard left, locking the door behind her, and I waited for I knew not what. Hope started to build in me. Had my conviction been overturned? Had my sentence been reduced to expulsion from Germany? I knew Lady Agnes had not abandoned me, and she was not without influence. Perhaps she had arranged for a pardon! Was I to be released? I had gone from brutalized prisoner to young lady in what seemed only moments; I had gone from a nightmare to a dream. I waited anxiously for someone to inform me of my fate, but I was sure I would not be here and dressed as I was if my life was not going to change for the better.

A short time later the door was unlocked and Max entered. "Hello, Jenny."

"Max! Is this your doing? Do I have you to thank for my freedom?"

"I am responsible for getting you out of prison, but you haven't been freed. You have merely been paroled into my custody. This will last only as long as you behave yourself. If you don't, one word from me and you will be returned to prison, where you will suffer the punishment you so narrowly averted."

"I don't understand. Why are you doing this?" I was confused by Max's attitude. The deferential gentleman I had known had disappeared.

"I wanted you to be my assistant, but this is better. Now you are my slave."

"Slave! You can't be serious! This is Germany, not Arabia. You can't have a slave here."

"Not by that name, but in fact that is what you are. I effectively own you. You have no rights. You have no recourse to any authority. I can command you and punish you if you do not obey. Indeed, I can punish you at my whim. If I want to use your body sexually you must submit or suffer the consequences. I cannot kill you, but that is my only restriction. I can certainly make you wish you were dead." He opened the case he was carrying and took out leg irons. "The authorities insist that criminals be restrained when they're in public. Put these on your ankles."

"I will not!"

"Jenny, Jenny, don't be stubborn. You are of no use to me if you do not obey, so you have a stark choice. Do as I command or go back into the prison and be whipped to death. Which will it be?"

Was he bluffing? I could not tell. But to go back into prison surely meant I would suffer a cruel death, while all I faced now was humiliation. I took the irons from Max and locked them onto my ankles.

"You have made a wise decision, Jenny." He took handcuffs from the case. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back."

"Please Max, not behind my back. I can't pick up my skirt when I walk."

"Do as I command! Slaves obey without protest. And you will address me as 'Master'. Do you understand?"

His anger was visible, and I was frightened. "Yes, M... Master." I turned and placed my hands behind me and felt the cold steel on my wrists. Max made the cuffs cruelly tight and I winced.

Max (for I would not call him Master in my thoughts) turned me to face him. "I had this collar made especially for you, Jenny. See, it has your name engraved on it."

He was holding a shiny silver collar, about an inch wide and a quarter inch thick. The engraving read, 'Slave jenny'. At this final humiliation I wept, the tears coursing down my cheeks.

Max closed the collar about my neck and it locked with a loud click. "There is no key, Jenny. The collar will have to be cut off at the end of your sentence." He clipped a dog leash to a ring on the collar and knocked on the door. It was opened and a tug on the leash led me outside, into my new life. I had no illusions now, I was Max's slave, nothing more.

Once outside the prison a short walk took us to an alley where a carriage with the ducal coat of arms on the door waited. It was not impressive in spite of this pretension, for it was well-worn and weather beaten, and it was pulled by only two nondescript horses. Apparently Max did not perform as 'The Great Marvolo' just as a lark, but rather it was a major source of income.

I was too stunned to do more than follow Max, too stunned to speak. I could not believe this was really happening; it was all just a bad dream.

Max effortlessly lifted me into the carriage and when he was inside and the door closed the driver cracked his whip. The journey was undertaken in silence, but I felt increasingly uncomfortable under Max's steely gaze. I felt him undressing me with his eyes, and wondered what else he was imagining as he stared at my body with no thought for my modesty. We drove outside the city and then for perhaps an hour more, eventually stopping in the weed-choked drive in front of what was once a coaching inn. Max dismounted and lifted me down from the carriage. He said to the coachman, "That's all for now, Karl. I won't need the carriage again today. I've got other things to distract me." Karl laughed and drove away.

Max yanked on my leash and led me up some shallow steps and into the main room of the former inn. It had been cleared of all furniture except for a table and a few chairs. The cabinet used in the underwater escape trick and some other apparatus was stored in one corner. We did not stop here, but climbed the stairs to the upper floor and into a room furnished as a sitting room. A bedroom containing a large four-poster bed was visible through an open connecting door.

I knew that the only thing on the mind of my new owner at that moment was to take advantage of his relationship with me. The man revolted me, but I was now his de facto slave, and I realized that if I refused him anything he could punish me as he wished. Or worse, he could have me re-incarcerated with a word, and I was sure the prison governor, after having to let me 'get away' once, would ensure it couldn't happen again. He would promptly administer my sentence of fifty lashes, and that was a fate I could not face.

Max unlocked the manacles around my ankles, then released my wrists. As I rubbed my chafed flesh I nearly thanked him for freeing me, before I remembered that this was not freedom, just a prelude to further shame and humiliation.

"So, Jenny, I think we should get to know each other a little better." As he said this, he gave me a smile and ran his fingers down my face. He walked behind me and I felt him place his hands on my corseted waist and then slowly move them up, until they were cupping my breasts.

I knew that the one thing I mustn't do was turn and slap him across the face as hard as I could, but that is exactly what I did. His hand went to his rapidly reddening cheek.

"Good," he said, his smile widening. "I like my conquests to show some spirit. But not too much; a slave who strikes her master is usually severely punished."

"Conquest?" I exclaimed, incredulous. "I am not your conquest! I am your chattel, bought like some household utensil!"

"Yes," he said, a tone of steel in his voice, "and right now I would like my household utensil to go into the bedroom and remove her dress."

I was boiling with rage but, mustering as much dignity as I could, I did as he ordered. He leaned in the doorway and watched me, that infuriating smile still on his face, as I stood before him in my corset and chemise. He came up behind me and once again took my breasts in his hands, massaging them and toying with the nipples through the thin material. I knew I did not dare hit him again, and I don't know whether it was this realization of my helplessness or the deftness of his touch, but there was no denying that my body was responding. My nipples were hard and protruding through the chemise, my breathing was shallow and labored, and my face was flushed red and burning with pent-up arousal. I had been touched like this before by Betsy, but this was something entirely different.

"Good," he repeated. "You are as much a slut as I suspected. Hold on to the bedpost there while I remove your corset."

I held on as he loosened the laces and removed my corset, fighting to understand what was happening to me. I had not come to any conclusion when I felt him pull my chemise up around my waist. He knew I was naked underneath, since he had provided my clothes, and he now had a perfect view of my bottom and bare thighs.

I felt his hand on my thigh and then I was shocked when I felt his finger penetrate my sex and explore inside me in the most intimate way. I gasped in surprise, but also in response to the mounting passion in me, as he forced a second, then a third finger into me, eliciting a desperate moan from my reluctant lips. My knees buckled and I slumped forward against the bedpost, eyes closed, fighting against my body's shameful response to his lewd and disgusting groping.

"Stand up straight, slut!" he barked. As I did so, his hands once more briefly grabbed my breasts, but then there was the sound of tearing material, and my chemise was rent from hem to navel, exposing my sweat-soaked body and revealing my chest, heaving as I tried to catch my breath. He pushed the ruined garment off my shoulders and it slid to the floor, leaving me naked. He brought his hand up to my face and I could smell the rankness of my sexual arousal on his fingers.

"Suck them, slave, suck them clean," he growled in my ear. I looked around, and there was nothing but animal lust in his face. Reluctantly, I bent my head and took his fingers in my mouth, sucking and licking my own juices from them.

"Excellent. Now, get on the bed!" I obeyed his command with a heavy heart, knowing this was the point at which I was to lose what little virtue I still had. As I lay down on my back he threw several skeins of rope onto my naked body and wrapped the one he still held around my wrist. When he had the rope painfully tight he knotted it and pulled it until I was flat on the mattress with my arm stretched towards the bedpost, where he secured the free end.

"Why do you bother with the ropes when you know I can do nothing to resist you?" He looked at me expectantly, his face gradually darkening. I knew what he wanted, but I fought to keep a modicum of self-respect. Eventually I admitted to myself I was only making my life more difficult. "... Master!" I finally spat, and a cruel smile disfigured his face. By now he had tied my other wrist to a bedpost and was tieing my spread legs to the foot of the bed.

"Binding you is my personal preference," he said, stretching me as tight as could as he completed my bondage, "I enjoy seeing a young woman such as you trussed and entirely helpless. But also, I am confident that you are such a wanton slut that, under my skilled touch, you will soon be pulling against these restraints in your eagerness to offer me your body. Knowing you are helpless will reduce your inhibitions."

As he said this he forced into my mouth an object which filled it to the point where I was retching as it touched my throat. I tried to cry out, but this thing filed my whole mouth, stretching my jaws wide and muffling any sound I tried to utter. The object was held by a leather strap, which Max pulled viciously tight and buckled behind my head. To test the efficacy of the gag he grasped the nipple on my right breast and twisted it until I screamed in agony. Barely a sound could be heard, despite the tears forced from me by his torture. The room suddenly seemed airless and I found myself breaking into a sweat which prickled my brow, stung my armpits and ran freely from them as I fought for breath.

He turned to the commode in the corner of the room, and when he returned my eyes widened in fear as he opened a straight razor and waved it before my face.

"Regretting your earlier insolence yet, slut?" As he lowered the blade to my body I tried to raise my head from the bed to see. I felt him grasp my pubic hair and slice it away, leaving only stubble. He then scraped the razor over my skin, removing the stubble as well.

"There", he said in satisfaction. "Bare as any good slave girl should be." It seemed my humiliation would never end, but it was only just beginning. Now he raised for my inspection an object of revolting aspect, which caused me to shake my head in disbelief and a mute plea for mercy. The thing was of ivory and shaped like a man's erect penis, but was of such length and girth that it could only be a weapon of torture.

"I see the light in your eyes, Jenny. You seem to relish the prospect of my using this on you."

I shook my head violently, trying to shout out my abject fear at such a prospect. But I knew it would make no difference. I felt the tip of the monster parting my lips and sliding into me, unopposed.

"See how your filthy cunt takes it in greedily," Max taunted, as he slowly drove it into me. "Already you are flowing with lust for this, like some common harlot!"

I closed my eyes and felt the tears of shame burning on my cheeks. I knew he was right, that my thighs were slick with the evidence of my wantonness. The feelings of desperate sexual arousal mounted in my faithless body, unbidden and unwanted. I felt his hands slide over my sweat-soaked skin and squeeze my breasts until they ached, but this just seemed to intensify the fire within me.

Gradually and inexorably, he forced the monstrous phallus deeper and deeper into me, far past the point where I was sure I couldn't take any more, yet still it disappeared inside my body. I felt every swelling and carved vein along its obscene length and, to my horror, my body continued to respond, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I reached an orgasm. Max seemed to know this too and took the opportunity to increase my torment. He lowered his head to my breast and bit down hard on my nipple, until I was screaming uselessly and struggling vainly against the tight ropes, just as he had predicted.

At that moment I reached the most mind-numbing climax it is possible to imagine. It racked my body, making me shake. More sweat sprang from my pores, saliva drooled from my mouth and I could feel my sex juices oozing from me, dripping onto my thighs and the bed. The feeling seemed to last for hours, forever, the intensity almost unbearable. My eyes opened wide and I saw, staring down at me, the demonic face of my tormentor.

At that point I must have become unconscious. When I awoke, I found that Max had untied me from the bed, but only so he could bind me again, my tortured frame bent over a small table. As I fought back to consciousness, he was entering me from behind, thrusting deeply into my tortured sex. Once more, my fickle libido betrayed me and I soon found myself at the point of climax, a point quickly passed and then revisited as Max now consummated the terrible master-slave bond between us.

As hot tears streamed down my face I saw Max readjusting his clothing and picking up a riding crop, bending it threateningly. If I had ever been in any doubt about the dire situation in which I found myself, I knew the last remnants of pride and defiance were about to be thrashed out of me. What I could not fathom, and what made me hate this loathsome man even more than I had when I first realized he intended to enslave me, was that it was he that had brought me such intense pleasure of the sort I had never experienced before in my life. I now knew that this man could take me to his bed and, like the wanton slut he had named me, I would go there eagerly, ignoring the shame I felt coursing through my veins. I hated and despised him, but I hated and despised myself even more.

Much to my surprise I was not thrashed. Max untied me and gave me a housemaid's dress to wear. It was large on me, and fitted loosely.

"It is time to prepare a meal, Jenny. Mealtimes have been somewhat irregular around here since I was forced to discharge the staff. You do know the rudiments of cooking, I hope?"

This abrupt change disoriented me. I replied, "Yes, Master. I have some abilities as a cook." I had spoken automatically, and it wasn't until after the words were out of my mouth that I realized I had used the title 'Master'. Max realized it too, and his smile of triumph brought a blush of shame to my face.

"I am glad that you are adapting to your new life. Keep doing so, and it will be more pleasant for all of us, but especially for you. Now on to the kitchen. There will only be the three of us at dinner; you, me, and Karl."

He picked up the leash that was still attached to my collar and led me downstairs and into the kitchen. In the center of the room was a coil of light chain, with one end bolted to the stone floor. Max removed the leash and padlocked the free end of the chain to the ring on my collar. "How convenient," he smirked. "Your collar is useful as well as ornamental."

How convenient that this chain was just waiting here for me. "You've known since I was arrested that I was going to be your prisoner, haven't you? Master."

"Yes, of course I have. You're not stupid, Jenny. It would be impossible for me to hide my involvement for long."

"I didn't steal the jewels. I am not a thief. You must believe me!"

"Of course I believe you. Karl stole the jewels and put the money in your suitcase, as I told him to. I bribed the pawnbrokers so they would falsely identify you. I bribed the judge to sentence you to fifteen years. I also bribed the prison governor to sentence you to fifty lashes, and most importantly, I bribed him to not carry out that sentence. The Parole Bureau didn't need a bribe, they gave me your custody because I'm the Duke's nephew."

"But why? Why have you enslaved me? Why have you ruined my life?" I was crying now. This was worse than an attack by an enemy. This was a betrayal by a friend.

"Because I needed an assistant. And because you are the most desirable woman I have ever met, and I had to possess you."

Max took me into his arms and kissed me, not a violent kiss of lust, but tenderly. "I realize this has been difficult for you, Jenny. But you must admit that I've shown you intense pleasure. And what I feel for you is more than lust, even though I must own you, body and soul. We will spend many years together. They can be pleasant ones, if you let yourself enjoy them. Your situation is not unlike that of a royal princess, married for political reasons. She may not have chosen her husband, but she can learn to love him. And addressing him as 'Your Majesty' is not so different from addressing me as 'Master'."

I had to laugh through my tears. Max was a silver-tongued devil. "How many royal princesses have a collar permanently locked around their necks? How many can be tortured at a whim?"

"Well, the analogy only goes so far. You are a slave, so you have a distinctly different status to that of a princess. And while I have a great deal of affection for you, I still demand your obedience. At least twice now you have forgotten to address me as 'Master'. Bend over and hold your ankles."

This jolted me out of my fantasy world, where I was not a chattel. I begged, "Please don't whip me! I'm sorry, I just forgot, this is all new to me. Please don't hurt me."

"You won't remember your place if I let your transgressions go unpunished. Now hold your ankles. If you cannot do it I'll suspend you by your wrists. Which do you prefer?"

With a sob of despair I bent over and Max lifted my dress above my waist. Then he delivered five stinging blows across my bottom with his crop, and I was cruelly brought back to the brutal reality of my world.

"You will find food in the larder, Jenny. I look forward to a delicious meal. Do not disappoint me." He left the kitchen and I was alone, chained in my place.

I actually had some cooking skill. I took an interest in it, and the various cooks my father had employed over the years were willing to teach me. I tried my best to produce a 'delicious' meal, but the larder was almost empty, so I was worried that the result would not meet Max's standards and I would be punished. I was also hampered by my tether, for I was not yet used to living at the end of a chain.

Max entered the kitchen. "Is the meal ready yet?"

"Yes, I have just finished, Master. Where do you want me to serve it?"

"Here in the kitchen will do. Set the table while I call Karl."

"How many places shall I set? Master."

"Three, of course. We are just a team of show folk, with no distinctions among us."

I fingered my collar and jingled the chain attached to it. "Yes, Master. Whatever you say." I saw a smile play on his lips as he recognised the sarcastic tone, but he was apparently amused rather than offended and I was not beaten this time.

When Max returned I had my first meeting with the notorious Karl. He reminded me of a troll, as pictured in a children's book. He was no taller than I, yet three times as broad, with a barrel chest and heavily muscled arms. His face had a bulbous nose and a receding chin, and he was completely bald, with rolls of fat where his short neck met his shoulders. He wore brown leather trousers tucked into knee boots and a leather vest over a gray woolen shirt. He exuded a rank smell.

Max introduced us. "Jenny, this is Karl. He is my trusted assistant, and an indispensable, if unseen, part of the act. Karl, this is Jenny, my slave. She is Bella's replacement."

Karl grunted and moved towards me, his hand outstretched. I shrank back, but Karl stopped immediately when Max shouted, "Karl! She is my slave. You may look, but do not touch. But I'll let you look. Jenny, remove your dress."

I was so shocked I could not respond. Max threatened, "Do as I say, Jenny. Or do you like the touch of the crop?"

I had endured enough pain today, and humiliation no longer mattered much, so I removed my dress, letting it fall to the floor. I covered myself with my hands until Max ordered, "Put your hands on the back of your head and turn around slowly. Karl appreciates the beauty of the female form, do not deprive him."

I made several complete turns, trying to appear indifferent to my degradation as his ugly servant stared hungrily at my nakedness. Finally Max ordered, "Enough. Serve the food, Jenny."

"May I dress, Master?"

"Yes, since you asked permission."

I quickly put the dress on and hurried to bring the food to the table.

After we had eaten I anxiously awaited Max's verdict. Was the food satisfactory, or was I to be punished? He stared at me, his face unreadable, deliberately prolonging the suspense. I tried to pretend indifference, but I was not successful. I did want Max's approval, and not just to avoid pain.

"Well, Jenny, that meal was... very good."

"Oh, thank you, Master! I'm so glad you liked it. But I don't know if I can do it again. The larder is almost empty, and there is not much coal left, either."

"Yes, I know. My funds are low at the moment, because you were very expensive. Bribery used to be much more affordable. Karl, you will have to do some foraging."

"Yes, sir. I haven't been to Siebenhitz lately. I'll see what I can find." He slouched out of the room and out the back door.

"When you have finished with the clearing up call me, Jenny. I'll be in the main room."

I had some water boiling on the stove and I pumped some more cold water and mixed it to obtain the proper temperature to wash the dishes, and when they were done I started to mop the floor. It wasn't that dirty, but if I was working in here I didn't have to call Max. My subterfuge was unsuccessful, as he came for me.

"What are you doing, Jenny?"

"Cleaning, Master. As you commanded."

"That can wait. I have another duty for you to perform."

He unlocked the chain from my collar and clipped on the leash, and I perforce followed him upstairs and into the bedroom. Another chain was bolted to the floor, this one near the head of the bed, and I was attached to it.

Max commanded, "Strip, Jenny."

I shrugged the dress off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. I stood quietly, my hands at my sides, wondering how I would be violated this time. I resolved to show no response, to fight my base impulses so my body would not lewdly surrender again.

Max disrobed and got onto the bed. "Don't just stand there, Jenny. Get over here!"

I reluctantly lay beside him and he embraced me and kissed me. When I did not respond he kissed me again, and this time his tongue gently eased between my lips and stroked my tongue. His fingertips brushed my right nipple, quickly bringing it erect, before moving on to my left one. I relaxed my jaw, opening my mouth a little, and his tongue slid a little deeper. I felt my body reacting to Max's gentle touch and put my hand on his chest to push him away. He stopped kissing me and pushed my hand away, and his embrace tightened as he rolled me onto my back so I was underneath him. He supported all of his weight on his knees and elbows, not crushing me in the least, and then resumed the kiss. This time I kissed him back, and our tongues danced together.

"Relax, Jenny," Max whispered, "relax and enjoy the sensations. Your body knows the way, just follow it."

His mouth left mine and moved to my breasts, and he took each nipple into his mouth in turn, his moist lips sliding across my flesh. His tongue flicked out and circled my areola, before his teeth gently squeezed down on the nipple itself. I gasped, and despite my resolution to be passive I arched my back in response. His tongue continued to swirl around, and just as I was thinking I couldn't take much more, he moved on to the other breast, which received the same treatment.

Now Max's hands were stroking my shaved mound. He touched my swollen lips and I parted my thighs. I remembered my resolution and closed them, but this lasted only moments before his insistent probing caused me to open them again. His fingers slid across my vagina and probed gently inside. I knew I was very wet by now, and I abandoned my resolution. My mind was no match for my body in these matters, and I opened my legs a little further.

Now his fingers found my clitoris, and the stroking and squeezing caused me to moan. "Please," I begged, "please, please, please..."

I felt the tip of Max's shaft enter me, and I circled his waist with my legs, doing all I could to impale myself on his manhood. He responded with a forceful thrust and vigorous pumping, and I screamed and clutched him in my arms, my nails digging into his back, as waves of pleasure coursed through my body.

I must have fainted, because when I was aware of my surroundings again Max and I were lying side by side under the blanket. "You seemed to enjoy that, Jenny."

"Yes, it would be futile to deny it. May I ask you a question? Master."

"Of course, I also enjoy interacting with your intellect."

"This time you did all you could to give me only pleasure. The first time you did all you could to degrade and humiliate me. Why did you behave so differently?"

There was a long pause before Max answered. "The first time I wanted to test you, to see if you would respond. I also wanted to demonstrate that you are my belonging, and I can do anything to you that I wish, that you are a slave who must accept what I give. The second time I wanted to show you the rewards I can bestow if you accept your status and behave as I desire." He jingled the chain locked to my collar. "This is also a factor. If you were a free woman your conditioning might not allow your body to respond normally. As a bound slave you have no choice, so your mind cannot be blamed for your body's response."

"Yes, my body certainly does not obey my mind, Master. My body loves you, and I hate you."

Max laughed, "Well, I cannot hope to obtain all of my goals at once. We shall see what the future brings. Now let us sleep. Tomorrow we start your training as an escape artist. Oh, I hope you appreciate the favor I'm bestowing on you now."

"What favor? Master."

"It is customary for a slave girl to sleep on the floor at the foot of her master's bed. Allowing you to share the bed with me is a privilege."

"This slave is grateful for your indulgence, Master."

Max laughed and hugged me. "I detect some sarcasm, Jenny, but no matter. I enjoy having your body next to mine, so it's an indulgence for me too."

The next morning Max and I were up at dawn. I was allowed to wear the same baggy housemaid's dress, and after I performed a hurried toilet we adjourned to the kitchen. He locked the chain to my collar and I fixed a meager breakfast from the food still remaining in the larder. Karl was not around, and when I asked Max where he was I got an evasive answer. When I finished the cleanup Max released me from my tether and took me into the main room.

"Most of the act doesn't require much skill on your part, Jenny, just that you know the cues. Only the underwater escape relies on your talents for its success, and indeed, for your survival. I hope you're a quick learner, because we appear in Dresden starting a week from tomorrow."

"A week from tomorrow! Bella needed years of training, you said so yourself. I've seen the act, remember? I know I can't hold my breath for five minutes. Please, Master! I can't do this."

Max laughed. "Bella learned everything in three days. The 'years of training' is just hyperbole. It's all done by trickery. Come over here and I'll show you." Max and I went over to the cabinet. "Put your head against the glass and look behind the top iron strap. See that black rubber tube?"

The tube was about a half-inch in diameter and extended into the cabinet about three inches. "Yes, Master, I see it. What does it do?"

"It's connected to a bottle of compressed air in the cabinet base. There's a valve near the end of the tube. You put the tube in your mouth and bite on the valve, and it releases air into your mouth. There are plugs for your nostrils so you don't have to worry about breathing water."

"That's all very well, but I don't know how to pick locks with just a nail. Master."

"That's a trick too." Max dug into a wooden box and took out a shiny black padlock. "See these rivets? Most of them actually hold the two halves of the lock together, but this one on the upper right is a dummy. It's a false head that's just glued into place by the paint. Scraping it off with your fingernail uncovers a hole, and then just pushing the nail into the hole will open the lock."

"What about the handcuffs? Are they fake too, Master?"

"Of course. The ratchet has been filed down so they open when you squeeze the bracelet and pull. Bella used to open them before she went into the water, just to be sure nothing was stuck. Once you've practiced a bit you can get out of the chains in two minutes or less, and you stay underwater longer just to build suspense. The clock has an inside face so you can keep track of the time."

I was dubious, but of course I had no choice in the matter. Max pointed out the box where the costumes were kept and I explored it while Max was assembling the chains and locks. There were two of the sequined costumes, but they were too small for me. "These costumes don't fit me, Master. I'll have to alter them."

"You can do that later. For now, just strip."

No novelty there. I removed the housemaid's dress, my only garment.

Max had sorted out the chains. "Come here, Jenny. We'll practice outside the cabinet until you have the basics mastered." I did as he told me and he handcuffed my wrists behind my back. Then he wrapped a chain over my shoulders and through my crotch, locking it in place with a padlock placed over my stomach. Then more chain, this time around my torso, emphasizing my breasts and pinning my arms to my sides. Max fastened the last chain around my waist, then wrapped it around my legs, finishing with two final turns around my ankles, locking it there with the fourth padlock."

Max looked over my naked, chain-wrapped body, and I began to feel uncomfortable. He lifted his hand and cupped my left breast, squeezing and stroking it, before taking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and pulling until it stood erect. My breathing was becoming ragged and shallow as he repeated the exercise on my right breast, his every touch tantalizing me. I hated that my body reacted to him in this way, but I could not prevent it, even as I saw his smug look of triumph.

"Bondage suits you, Jenny," he said, as he ran his hand over the chain which was pulled tight between my legs, making me squirm in my bonds. I closed my eyes as his fingers touched the soft folds of my flesh into which the chain disappeared, desperately ashamed of my reaction but wanting him to continue nevertheless.

"Do not become too distracted, Jenny. Now I want you to try to escape."

I flexed, trying to see how much I could move; not much. I just stood there, weighted down by sixty or seventy pounds of chain. "Get going, Jenny. First you have to free your hands from the cuffs. What's taking you so long?"

I roused myself. "Nothing, Master. I was just reflecting that before I came to Germany I never even thought about chain. Now it dominates my life."

"Ponder the philosophical ramifications later, Jenny. You have an act to rehearse. Concentrate!"

"Yes, Master." I pulled my hands out of the cuffs easily enough, and then I set to work on the chains. I decided I should start from the outermost chain, the one around my torso. Its padlock was resting on top of my right breast, so I held it in my left hand and scraped off the false rivet head with my right thumbnail. I held the nail in my right hand, and when I pushed it into the hole the lock clicked open. Once it was removed a I made a few twists of my body and the chain fell off. Now my arms were free and I made quick work of the other chains. I didn't have any way to measure the time, but it couldn't have taken me more than two minutes to free myself.

"See, Jenny? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No, Master, but I wasn't underwater."

"We'll try that next. Help me roll the cabinet into the kitchen." The cabinet moved easily on large rubber-tired casters and we wheeled it into the kitchen. Max locked the kitchen chain to my collar. "I have business to attend to, Jenny. I want you to fill the cabinet with water. It doesn't have to go all the way to the top, just over your head. There's a bucket under the sink. I'll be back this afternoon and we can do the underwater practice then."

"I can't reach the top, Master."

"I know, I'll bring the platform in here too." Max wheeled the platform next to the cabinet. He handed me the housemaid's dress. "Put this on. I expect the water to be ready when I get back."

The next hours became a nightmare of unremitting toil. Pump the bucket full of water. Carry it to the cabinet and climb the stairs. Dump the water. Repeat over and over, all to the accompaniment of my chain rattling on the floor. I lost count somewhere after the hundredth bucketful. My labor was interrupted around noon by a knock on the kitchen door. I opened it to find a teenaged delivery boy with two large baskets of groceries.

"Delivery, miss," he chirped. Then he noticed the chain locked to my collar and his eyes got wide. "What's all this? Have you been kidnapped?"

I didn't want to explain. There was nothing this boy, or anyone else, could do for me. "No, it's all right. It's only that my master doesn't want me to leave the kitchen. Please put the groceries in the larder."

He did so, but he kept staring at me and shaking his head. As he was leaving he said, "Why don't you get another job, miss? You're being treated like a slave."

"So I am. But slaves can't quit, can they?" I smiled at him. "Don't concern yourself about me. Thank you for putting the groceries away. Good bye." I shooed him outside and shut the door. Slaves can't quit, but they can be punished if they don't carry out their master's orders. I pumped more water.

Finally the cabinet was filled. And not a moment too soon, for Max returned just minutes later. My hands were blistered and my arms were tired. I just wanted to collapse, but of course that was not to be.

"So, Jenny, are you ready for the underwater training?"

"Yes, Master." What else could I say? I could say, No, I don't want to do this! I'm frightened, and I don't want to appear on the stage. Please, let me go back to England! I could say that, and then I could scream as I was whipped.

Max opened a door in the base the cabinet rested on and took out a metal cylinder. He inspected an attached gauge. "The air pressure is low. You'll have to pump it up." He brought a device from the other room that looked like a bicycle without wheels, mounted on a frame so it stood up. Max connected the air bottle to a hose leading from the machine. "Over here, Jenny. You work the air pump just like you pedal a bicycle. You've ridden a bicycle, haven't you?"

"No, Master."

"It's simple enough." He helped me climb onto the machine and after a few minutes of fumbling I started pedaling. It wasn't hard, at least compared to filling the cabinet, and in ten minutes or so the air bottle was full and Max told me to stop. He reconnected it to the cabinet and it was time for my underwater training to begin. Max unlocked the chain from my collar and I removed my dress without hesitation. Nudity in front of Max meant nothing to me now.

Max took a small wooden box from the base and removed two black rubber plugs. "Put these in you nostrils, Jenny. Then get in the cabinet and practice breathing from the air tube." He wrapped a chain around my waist and fastened it with a padlock.

"Yes, Master." Each plug had a small wire loop molded into the base, so I could use a buttonhook to remove it. I inserted them and climbed the platform's stairs to the top of the cabinet. I sat down and lowered my feet into the water. It was cold! But I had no choice, so I slipped into the water and the chain's weight pulled me to the bottom. The water was just over my head and I was momentarily frightened, but I forced myself to ignore my instinctive reaction. I took the air tube into my mouth. The reinforcing strap would screen this from the audience during a performance. I bit on the tube and I was startled by the force of the air jet. I tried it again, this time moderating my bite, and I was able to fill my lungs with air. After a few more minutes of practice I had mastered the technique.

I was very cold now and I wanted out of the cabinet. There were four-inch square horizontal timbers attached to the sides and back of the cabinet at the level of the straps, and these provided the holds I needed to climb onto the platform. Max called, "Why are you quitting, Jenny? Do you want me to fetch my crop?"

"Please, Master, I'm so cold. Let me warm up for a moment. I know how to breathe from the tube now, and I'm ready to try escaping from the chains."

"Very well. You may warm yourself. But be quick."

I got a towel and dried myself off. The stove was still warm, and I was able to stop shivering. "I'm ready now, Master." Before we started Max had me practice escaping from the chains outside the cabinet. After several run-throughs I was able to escape in a minute and a half, as measured by the clock on the cabinet.

Then Max handcuffed me and locked the chains around me. As he handed me the nail I asked, "What if I drop the nail, Master? I couldn't get the locks open then."

"Don't worry, there are some extra nails on the top of the lower right timber."

I was glad to hear that. Max carried me over his shoulder up to the platform. I remembered what he said and slipped free of the handcuffs before he lowered me into the water. I had no problem getting out of the chains and swimming to the surface, only needing to get air from the tube once.

"Very good, Jenny. Now fish the chains off the bottom and we'll try it again. This time pace yourself so you are underwater for five minutes. Can you see the clock?"

"Yes, Master." Max dropped a hook on the end of a rope into the water and I dived to the bottom of the cabinet and hooked the chains so Max could pull them up. Then he helped me out and we did everything again, this time with the delay, which required me to get air from the tube four times. Then we repeated the process two more times.

When I was back on the platform after the last time I was shivering violently. "Please, Master," I begged. "I'm too cold to do it again."

"All right, you seem to have mastered the basics, so we'll quit now. When we perform in a theater the water has time to warm up a bit, so it isn't so bad then. Get the chains, and then we'll go upstairs and I'll warm you up."

I dived into the cold water once more to retrieve the chains, and when I was finished I was cold to the core. Max used a buttonhook to take the plugs out of my nostrils, and then he carried me upstairs and dried me off with a thick towel.

"Are you warm now, Jenny?"

I was still shivering. "No Master, I'm still cold."

"Then let's get into bed." He locked the chain to my collar and put me into the bed. Then he stripped and climbed in with me. He hugged me and used his body to warm me. I felt a surge of... affection? Surely not! Although he was making himself uncomfortable to help me. I hugged him back, and my body responded to his presence.

Again Max made love to me, arousing me and bringing me to a peak of passion before satisfying himself. My emotions were badly scrambled. I still hated him (didn't I?) but my body responded enthusiastically to his touch.

Time just seemed to fly by. For another couple of days I practiced escaping from the chains while I was under water, and then Max and Karl packed up the cabinet and its accessories and shipped it to the theater in Dresden. Karl accompanied it, while Max and I stayed in Gorhalt and rehearsed the rest of the act, the mundane sleight of hand tricks that were just filler for the escapes. We didn't practice the part of the act where I would be tied to the pole and I asked Max about it.

"Don't worry about that, Jenny. It requires special equipment that's only available at the theater. Besides, you don't have to do anything, except look pretty and helpless."

Finally it was time for us to travel to Dresden. That morning I dressed in a chemise, corset, and the blue dress. I didn't have any underwear, and I knew asking Max to provide some would only lead to ridicule, at best. I wore knee-high woolen stockings and the flat-heeled shoes. I hoped Max wouldn't add any 'accessories', but my hopes were dashed when he produced the leg irons and ordered me to lock them on my ankles. He also produced a long piece of thick elastic.

"Tie this around your waist, Jenny, and then to the center of the chain between your ankles. Adjust the length so the chain doesn't drag on the ground. We don't want you to trip over it."

I was glad to do as he said. I wrapped the elastic around my waist under my dress and tied it to my ankle chain. This would hide the chain and greatly reduce my humiliation at being chained in public. The humiliation surged again, however, when Max handcuffed my hands behind my back. "Please, Master, don't handcuff me. I can't escape."

"Very true, Jenny. But I don't want to put temptation in your path, and besides, the cuffs help remind you of your status." He opened his suitcase, removed a short linen cape, and draped it over my shoulders. "This will hide the cuffs. I don't want any busybodies asking me why you're a prisoner."

"You could just leave the cuffs off."

"Yes, and I could also clip a leash on your collar. Don't press your luck."

"No, Master. You are very considerate, Master." I instantly regretted my sarcastic comment, but it was too late. Max was annoyed.

"You presume upon my good nature too much. Bend over."

I did not dare to refuse. I did as he ordered and Max pulled up my dress and exposed my bare bottom. Max struck me three hard blows with his crop, and I cried from the pain of each blow.

Max produced a handkerchief and wiped away my tears. "You are so stubborn, Jenny. Why do you force me to punish you?"

"I was a free woman all my life. I've only been your slave for a few days. I need time to adjust, Master." I hated myself for admitting that I might in time resign myself to a life as Max's slave, but I was afraid of the pain that he inflicted when I resisted him.

"Well, you must adjust, and quickly. I don't hurt you for my amusement, but I will not tolerate disobedience or disrespect. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." Max took my arm and guided me out the front door, pausing to retrieve his hat. He also found one for me, a small straw decorated with a bright feather. He placed it on my head and adjusted it. "Very attractive, Jenny. Just one more detail." He rotated my collar so the ring was at the back, hidden by my hair.

There was a carriage waiting; not the one with the ducal arms but another, hired from a livery stable. Max had a small suitcase, but none for me, of course. I literally owned nothing, not even my body. I suppose my soul was my own, but my hold on it was tenuous.

We drove into town and to the railway station. As we walked to the platform I feared that my status as a prisoner would be obvious, but we attracted no attention. Soon the train arrived and we were on our way to Dresden.

When we arrived in Dresden we took a cab to what Max told me was a theatrical boarding house. He led me inside where we were met by the proprietor, a rosy-cheeked woman with her gray hair in a bun, who looked like someone's grandmother. She obviously knew Max, and she greeted him warmly. "Ah, Max! So good to see you again! Karl told me you were coming today. Is this your new assistant?"

"Yes, this is Jenny. She's from England. Jenny, this is Frau Schäuble."

"Hello, Jenny. Welcome to Dresden." She gave me a quick hug. I was glad she didn't offer to shake hands.

"Pleased to meet you, Frau Schäuble."

"Call me Heidi. Everyone does."

"Is Karl here?" Max asked.

"No, he went out about an hour ago, he said he'd be back later tonight. He said he prepared your room, whatever that means."

"He just installed a special fixture. Nothing major. Is it the same room I had before?"

"Yes, Max. You know where it is." She gave him a key.

"Then we'll see you at dinner. Come, Jenny."

As we were climbing the stairs I asked, "Why didn't Heidi say anything about us sharing a room, Master? In England it would not be allowed."

"We're more Bohemian here, Jenny. Show folk aren't held to strict moral standards, as long as we don't upset anyone."

"Would Heidi be upset if she knew I was your slave, Master?"

"Probably not, but don't mention it to her, and don't call me master when anyone else is around. Understand?"

"Yes, Master. Does this mean you'll unchain me while we're here?"

"I'll leave the handcuffs off, as long as you behave."

"Thank you, Master." I tried to pretend I was being sarcastic, but I was truly grateful to Max. I was adjusting to slavery, and that frightened me.

When we entered our room I saw the "special fixture" Karl had installed. It was a chain, bolted to the floor in the center of the room. Max locked it to my collar before he removed my handcuffs and leg irons. I tugged on the chain and gave him pathetic look. "Is this really necessary, Master?"

"What did you expect, Jenny? I'm going to be out much of the time and I don't want you to try to escape. This chain on your neck is the least restrictive restraint I can use; you can reach everything in the room. Would you rather be hogtied?

"No, Master. But how can I escape? I have no money, and all you have to do is show the parole papers and every policeman in the city would be looking for me."

"You are very crafty, Jenny, and I don't want to put temptation in your path, so you'll stay chained." Max checked his watch. "We have about an hour until dinner. Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

I did, of course, and not just because I knew he'd whip me if I hesitated. Max disrobed and joined me on the bed, and he used all his skills to bring me to a shattering climax. It was becoming harder and harder for me hate him, although hating myself for not hating him seemed much easier.

* * *

Early the next morning we went to the theater. Max had arranged rehearsal time for us, or more exactly rehearsal time for me. This would be the first time I would do the escape from the post trick. I still had no idea how it was done, and I worried that Max would blame me if I didn't do it properly.

Karl was there, and he bolted the posts to the stage while Max showed me where the dressing rooms were. This would be the first time I wore the sequined costume while performing, and while I had been able to alter it so I could get into it, it was very tight and I was afraid a seam would split. I expressed my fear to Max, but he laughed it off. "Don't worry, Jenny. If it splits it will just bring in a bigger crowd for the next performance, all hoping to see more of your skin." I was not as amused.

Back on the stage, the posts were installed but Karl was not there. Max backed me up to the left-hand post and tied my wrists together behind it. Then he wrapped coils and coils of rope around my body, so I felt like a fly trapped in a spider's web. I didn't have to wonder what to do, I couldn't do anything.

Max put the blue velvet drape over me and everything went dark. Suddenly I was falling straight down and I shrieked. The post and a square section of the floor around it dropped into a dimly-lit room under the stage. Karl was there, and he slid the assembly, with me still attached to the post, out of an iron frame. To do this he had to tilt the post to an angle of about 45 degrees, and once clear he wheeled me on over to the other side of the stage. There he lowered the other, empty, post and inserted my post into the now-vacant frame. He turned a crank, and I heard a muted clicking as I rose up inside of another cylinder formed by a velvet drape.

I could hear Max saying the usual "mystic incantations", and then I heard a faint hissing sound as he lifted the drape. I just stood there with my mouth open until Max said, "Smile, Jenny. Don't look so stupefied. And next time don't scream as you drop."

"I won't, Master. It just took me by surprise."

"Fine. Let's go back the other way."

Max replaced the drape and once again the post dropped below the stage. I was ready for it this time, and I didn't scream. Karl was there, and as before he took me out of the frame and wheeled me over to the other post. Before he cranked me back up he used his knife to free my hands and slash the ropes around my body. When Max removed the drape I remembered what Bella had done and stepped away from the post, smiling and waving.

"Bravo, Jenny!" Max applauded. "Nothing to it, is there?"

"No, Master. But how do you get the drape to stay up when the post drops?"

"That's the big secret, and my rivals would love to know how it's done."

"I heard a hiss. Does compressed air play a part, Master?"

"Very observant of you, Jenny. Yes, there are rubber tubes hidden in the velvet, and compressed air in the metal tube around the top. When I open a valve the rubber tubes inflate and support the drape. When I release the pressure the drape behaves like cloth."

"Very ingenious, Master."

"I think so. Now, let's run through the entire act, except for the underwater escape. You know how to do that, and there aren't any cues for you to remember there."

We rehearsed for the rest of the morning, and then Max and I went to the dressing room to change. After I had dressed Max had me lock the leg irons on my ankles, but he didn't handcuff me. "You did well today, Jenny, and you didn't display any of your usual insolence and disobedience, so I won't chain your hands. But if you even give me a hint that you are trying to escape the handcuffs go back on, and a leash, too."

"I won't try anything, Master, I know I have no chance of escaping. Thank you for letting me have my hands." I thanked him without thinking about it, because I was grateful to Max. My adaptation to slavery was progressing, partly because my situation was hopeless. Even if could complain to the British Embassy that I was Marvolo's prisoner they would just laugh. 'Of course you're a prisoner. You're a convicted felon'.

* * *

As the time for my appearance on the stage approached I became more and more anxious. Max tried to reassure me, in his own way. "You'll be fine, Jenny. If you just ignore the audience and remember what you learned in our rehearsals your performance will go smoothly. If it doesn't, I'll whip you until you are bloody."

With that kind of motivation I forced down my fears and concentrated on remembering my cues. Much to my surprise, after the first few times on the stage I was able to forget the audience entirely, and the performance did go smoothly most of the time. Max showed his appreciation by not using his crop, even when there were a few lapses on my part.

I had one problem which soon became apparent. Bella had long straight hair that she had worn in a braid to keep it out of the way, but my hair was too short and too curled to let me do this, and it got in my face when I was underwater. Finally I asked Heidi if she could provide some of the new spring-steel hairpins, and these solved the problem.

When I wasn't at the theater I was kept chained in our room, except for meals at the boarding house table, and for a daily bath, which Max personally supervised. Once he had some money Max bought some spangled cloth, and much of my spare time was occupied in making new costumes. Like the old costumes, these were very tight and displayed every curve of my body. The highlights of my day were the meals, where I got to see and speak with the other boarders, all of whom were show folk, many appearing with Max and me on the same bill. They treated me as an equal, and showed me the respect that had been so lacking in my life since I was arrested.

For some reason Karl didn't eat at the table with the rest of us, although he had a room next to ours. I rarely saw him except under the stage during performances, and that was fine with me. He groped me every time he had the chance, and although I found it repugnant I didn't say anything to Max. What would Max do if I complained? Karl was indispensable to him while I could be replaced, and I knew beyond doubt that my life could be much worse than it was now.

We performed every day for a week, and then Max announced that we would be returning to Gorhalt for a "Special Performance". I was confused, because there was no music hall there, and I knew Max needed the money we would earn in Dresden or some other large city. I asked, "How long will we stay there, Master?"

"This is a one-time performance, Jenny. As you probably know, my uncle the Duke is not fond of me, and he is also afraid of me, since I am popular with the people and I might displace him if there is a change in the structure of the government. So we have reached an agreement. I will stay out of Gorhalt and not meddle in politics in return for an annual stipend. He and his son will attend a single performance of my act to demonstrate there is no breach between us and that he does not disapprove of me appearing on the stage."

"Where will we perform, Master? There isn't a music hall in Gorhalt, is there?"

"We'll use the Opera House. It will require a modification to the stage, but that is all. Karl has already started the work."

* * *

And so we traveled back to Gorhalt. I was sorry to leave Dresden, because I would be trading the social interaction of the boarding house, limited as it was, for the solitary confinement of the old coaching inn. But it would be for a short time only, and then we would be back on the road, touring Europe as Max had done before. I felt a thrill as I contemplated an engagement outside of Germany. Would Max's custody of me be recognized in France or England? I might have a chance to escape! Yet Max must have thought of this himself, and devised some countermove. All I could do was wait for events to resolve themselves.

There wasn't much for me to do during the three days before our performance in Gorhalt. As before, I prepared the meals and did the other household chores, but I was bored and spent a lot of time napping on Max's bed, with my neck chained to the floor, of course. Max insisted that I strip naked when in bed, so I would be conveniently available when he wanted to use me. Although I disliked this unnecessary nudity, I found myself longing for the feel of his body beside me, and his sensitive touch, which was sure to bring me to the heights of passion. I tried to tell myself this was just my basic need for human warmth and companionship, but I knew in my heart that I was a wanton creature, who desperately needed the stimulation Max provided. I wondered what Lady Agnes would make of such depravity. Given her own sexual proclivities, perhaps she would understand, and even approve.

On the day before our performance I was lying in bed, thinking about what to prepare for dinner, and Max was reading in the sitting room. There was a knock on the door and Max opened it.

Karl muttered, "I planted the bomb. All is prepared."

Max asked, "Where did you put it? The Opera House is small, I don't want to be caught in the blast."

"No problem. It's in the floor, next to the Duke's chair. Him and his son will be the only ones killed. I'll set the timer..."

Max interrupted. "Quiet! Jenny's in the bedroom."

I heard his footsteps and quickly closed my eyes and feigned sleep. Then he walked back and I heard the sitting room door close. I was very frightened. If Max thought I had overheard him he might try to silence me. Then I realized that without me there would be no performance and thus no reason for the Duke to come to the Opera House. What to do? I quickly decided that I must not reveal my knowledge to Max.

A short time later Max returned to the bedroom. I was still pretending to be asleep, so he shook me and unlocked the chain from my collar. "Get up, Jenny. Time to prepare dinner."

I yawned and stretched. "Yes, Master." I climbed out of bed and put on my housemaid's dress.

"Did Karl disturb your nap?"

"Karl? I didn't hear him." I tried to be convincing as I lied, but I have limited acting skills.

"Well, he was joking about setting off a bomb in the Opera House. He used to be an anarchist, and planning to assassinate nobles was one of his major preoccupations. I sometimes play along, just for amusement. I love my uncle, even though we have had our differences, and I don't wish him harm."

"I can believe that about Karl, Master. He is practically a caricature of a bomb-thrower. I'm glad you reformed him."

No further mention was made of this, but I thought that Max was suspicious of me, though he said nothing. He made sure I was always chained when he wasn't with me, yet this was no different than usual, so I could not draw any conclusions from it. I could not determine if he knew I had overheard him or not. I successfully tried to put my concerns out of my mind, and as the time for our performance drew near I had no more than my usual anxiety.

* * *

The Opera House was much smaller than the music hall in Dresden, but it was full, with every seat occupied. The Duke and his heir were in a box close to the stage. The Duke was stone-faced, but his son showed more interest, especially in me and my revealing costume. There were differences in this performance, of course. For one thing there were no other acts to condition the audience. Also, Max frequently and surreptitiously consulted his watch, and the pace of the performance was much slower than usual.

But we followed the routine, and finally arrived at the climatic underwater escape. The volunteers chained me as usual and Max carried me up to the platform. I still hadn't decided what to do about the possible bomb in the Duke's box. Could I believe Max when he said what I heard was just idle talk, and he had no intention of killing his uncle and his cousin? And even if there was a bomb, should I warn the Duke? Of course, everyone has a duty to prevent murder, but I wasn't feeling very civic-minded. I had been imprisoned and brutalized by the Duke's officials, and I didn't owe him anything. From a strictly selfish standpoint I would be better off if the bomb succeeded and Max became the Duchy's ruler. I would still be his slave, but it would be better for me to be the slave of the ruling Duke rather than be the slave of a stage magician.

Max picked me up prior to lowering me into the water, and then he did something he had never done before. He kissed my cheek and murmured, "Goodbye, Jenny. I love you." Then I was in the water, and suddenly my fate became clear to me. I wasn't meant to come out of the cabinet alive.

I didn't hesitate. I immediately freed my hands from the handcuffs and removed the false rivet head from the first padlock, but when I tried to insert the nail it was too big to fit into the hole! I felt along the side of the cabinet where the spare nails were hidden, but they were gone. By this time I was short of breath so I put my mouth on the air tube and bit the valve. Instead of the usual powerful jet of air there was just enough for one breath. I was going to die in a "tragic accident".

I had just one chance. I pulled a pin from my hair and straightened it out. If this didn't work I was doomed. I probed the interior of the lock and it opened! I shrugged off the chain around my arms and probed the lock on the chain over my shoulders. It too opened and the chain fell off. Next I unlocked the chain around my waist and shed that chain. The lock holding the chain around my ankles didn't open immediately and I was becoming desperate. Finally it opened and I kicked the chain off my ankles. My breath was running out by the time I was free of this last chain.

I swam to the surface, opened the lid, and sucked in the blessed air. Max was looking at the audience and hadn't noticed I was free. I climbed out of the water and stood myself up on the platform. I shouted, "Your Highness! There's a bomb in your box. A bomb! Get out now!"

Max certainly noticed this! He bounded up the stairs, his hands found my throat, and he commenced to strangle me. I grabbed his wrists and tried to loosen his hands but he was too strong, and I was again moments away from death. Then I remembered something I had learned from one of my more unconventional governesses, and I kneed Max in the groin. He emitted a yell and grabbed his crotch, and I lowered my shoulder and rammed him. As he fell backwards his heel must have caught on the edge of the platform, because he landed on his head. A glance downward showed me he wasn't moving, and I resumed shouting. The Duke must have heard me, because he immediately exited his box, towing his son behind him. Moments later an explosion rocked the theater.

The explosion demolished the Duke's box, but the rest of the Opera House didn't seem to be damaged. I was unhurt, except for a ringing in my ears, and I hurried down the stairs and knelt by Max. I tried to revive him, but he was unresponsive, and there was a trickle of blood from his ear. I took his wrist and felt for a pulse, but I could not find one. I feared that Max was dead.

There was pandemonium in the theater as people struggled to leave, and several of the Duke's ceremonial guard, in their fancy uniforms, together with three men wearing plain clothes and brandishing revolvers, stormed onto the stage. I shouted, "Under the stage! The bomber is under the stage!"

I was distracted for a few minutes as I put on my shoes and struggled to get the plugs out of my nostrils, and when I looked up I was surrounded by guardsmen. For a moment I thought they were going to thank me for foiling the bomb plot, but I was quickly disabused of this notion when I was roughly seized and my wrists were crossed and tied behind my back. More rope was wrapped around my torso, and now I was tightly bound. Two guardsmen seized my arms, and one of the men in plain clothes ordered, "Take her to the Schloss. Put her in the dungeon, and don't let her talk to anyone."

There was a volley of gunshots underfoot and everyone flinched. The man shouted, "Go! Get her out of here!" I was hustled backstage and out of the stage door. In a few minutes a carriage appeared and I was lifted into it. Once the guards were inside the driver whipped the horses and we galloped off. My wet costume adhered to my skin, showing every curve, and I suppose the sight of my nipples was too much for the guards, because they took turns fondling my breasts. With my wrists bound I was unable to resist them, and their hands groped my wet body unimpeded. The guards must have been wary of the Duke's displeasure, for otherwise I was sure they would have gone much further.

When we reached the Schloss the carriage entered the bailey and stopped in front to the keep. We left the carriage and ascended a short flight of stone stairs to a large iron-banded wooden door. A guard pounded on it until a small barred window opened and a man's face appeared. He snarled, "What the devil you want?"

"We have orders to lock this woman in the dungeon, Hans. She is to speak to no one."

Hans looked me over. "She look like circus performer. What she done?"

"Someone set off a bomb in the Opera House, trying to assassinate the Duke. She may be involved. But that's not for us to decide. Our orders are to lock her up."

Hans opened the door and the guards pushed me inside, into a square stone chamber with a vaulted ceiling. Hans was a thickset bald man wearing a leather coat, dirty woolen trousers, and scuffed boots. "Wait here," he grunted. He went into a small room and emerged a few minutes later with a ring of keys and a lit carbide lantern. He said, "Follow me," and led us to another large wooden door. He unlocked it and we descended a long flight of stairs. At the base of the stairs was another locked door. Hans opened it, revealing a short corridor with four closely-spaced doors on each side, doors formed by a grillwork of iron bars.

Although the Schloss looked medieval, I knew it was actually built about fifty years ago. This area may have conceivably been used as a dungeon once, but now it was a wine cellar, as a glance through the cell doors confirmed. But the end cell on the right was empty, and I was thrust into it by the guards. Hans slammed the door and locked it with one of his keys. It was just a bare stone cube, maybe ten feet square, cleanly swept, and with no furniture of any kind.

Hans asked, "How long she going to be here?"

"How the hell would I know? Maybe forever. Just keep her here until the secret police come for her."

Hans grunted and started back up the corridor, the guards following him. I screamed, "Wait! Please, untie me. Don't leave me like this!" Nobody paid any attention, and as soon as Hans closed the door at the end of the corridor it was totally dark. I made a perfunctory effort to free my hands, but it was hopeless. The cell was cold, and I was wearing only a thin, wet costume. I sat down against the back wall and huddled with my thighs against my chest, trying to conserve my body heat. It was not very effective, and soon I was shivering violently.

I don't know how long I sat there freezing in the dark, but I knew I would not survive the night. I had given up hope when I heard the door open and saw a faint gleam of light. Footsteps came closer, and soon Hans was outside the cell door. He unlocked it and stepped inside. "Stand up so I can get ropes off."

I struggled, and Hans helped me get to my feet. He cut the ropes binding me and I tried to get some feeling back into my numb hands. "Thank you," I whispered. "You're very kind."

He grunted. "I always try to foil oppressors and their lackeys. I hear about bomb at Opera House. Good work, Sister!"

"I didn't have anything to do with it."

Hans winked. "Of course not." He put down a bundle. "Two blankets and towel here. Also jug of water and bucket to piss in. Don't mess up my floor."

"I won't. Thank you, you've saved my life."

"Anything to help cause. I can't let you escape, guards are just outside keep. I bring you some food tomorrow." He left the cell and locked the door. His footsteps receded and when he closed the corridor door my cell was dark again.

I had never had much sympathy for the anarchists, but Hans changed my mind. Some of them were decent people, if you overlooked their little foibles, such as bomb-throwing and assassination. I stripped off my wet costume and toweled myself as dry as possible. My hair was still damp, but I could do nothing about that. I wrapped myself in the blankets and resumed huddling. I wasn't comfortable, but the shivering stopped and I had a chance of living until tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning Hans brought me some bread and a piece of sausage. I was very glad to get it, since I hadn't had any food since the previous noon. About an hour later he returned, with two men I had seen on the stage after the bomb exploded. Their revolvers weren't drawn now, but they wore the same suits, one black, one brown. Black Suit was carrying a cloth sack, and he gave it to me. "Get dressed," he commanded.

I rummaged in the sack and found the clothes I had left in the dressing room. I hadn't put the damp costume back on, so when I dropped the blankets I had wrapped around me I was naked. I put on the stockings and my shoes and then the chemise and the blue dress, not bothering with the corset. The men looked at me with startled expressions. "What?" I asked. "Do you expect a woman who has been in your prisons to retain any modesty? Especially in front of jailors?"

They didn't have any answer to that, but one of the men produced something else that was in the dressing room and locked the leg irons on my ankles. Then my hands were pulled behind my back and the shiny black handcuffs used in the act were locked on my wrists. The two men, who I assumed were from the secret police, escorted me out of the dungeon and up to the main part of the keep. We entered a small room and I was placed in a straight chair.

Black Suit barked, "So, Bella. Tell us who your accomplices are. Was it you who planted the bomb?"

"My name is not Bella, it's Jennifer Harrison. Bella was Max's previous assistant, and he never bothered to change the placard. As to who actually planted the bomb, that was Karl, Max's man. Did you catch him? He was under the stage."

"He was killed resisting arrest. By Max do you mean Maximillian von Gorhalt, the Duke's nephew?"

"Who else? You don't seem to be very well informed. Is Max alive? I couldn't revive him."

"He is dead. Are you suggesting he was involved in this plot against the Duke?"

"I know he was. I heard him discussing it with Karl, on the day before the performance. His motive should be obvious, even to you. If you want further proof, he tried to stop me from warning the Duke. You must have seen that." I wasn't shocked to have Max's death confirmed, and any affection I had for him vanished when he tried to kill me. Still, I shed a silent tear for him.

"If you knew of this plot in advance why didn't you warn the Duke sooner? He was almost killed."

"I couldn't warn him! Max kept me chained to the floor, except when he was close to me. Even on the stage he was right next to me until I was on the platform. As soon as I got a chance I did warn the Duke. I saved his life."

I thought it best not to mention my ambivalent thoughts about warning the Duke, resolved only when I knew Max was planning to kill me. Ah, Max! If only you had trusted me!

The two men conferred in whispers, and then Black Suit left the room. Brown Suit stood by the door and stared at me. A long time later Black Suit returned and the two men escorted me into the main part of the Schloss.

I was kept in an anteroom for a few minutes and then ushered into the presence of the Duke, who was seated in a throne-like chair. "So you are Harrison, the criminal who killed our nephew."

"Please sir, I didn't mean to kill him, it was an accident. Besides, he was trying to kill me, to stop me from warning you about the bomb."

"That is irrelevant. There is no excuse for killing a member of the ruling House. You should be executed, but we don't want a scandal. The official statement will say this was a failed anarchist plot. The death of Maximillian was an accident. If you tell anyone otherwise you will be executed. You would have been returned to prison, but Albert has taken a fancy to you, so he will have your custody. That is our command." The Duke gestured to Black Suit. "Take her to Albert."

And thus my fate was decided, just like that. Not a word about how I had been sent to prison for a crime I did not commit. Not a word of thanks for saving the Duke's life. Albert wanted me as his plaything, and that was all that saved me from a hideous death in prison. Black Suit roughly grasped my arm, and I was hustled out of the Schloss and into a carriage.

This time the carriage took me to one of the ugliest houses I had ever seen, set in a large park about five miles from the Schloss. It was a jumbled mixture of styles; Baroque, Rococo, even Gothic. The carriage passed through a large wooden gate in a stone wall behind the house and stopped in a stone-paved courtyard. Black Suit took me inside through a servant's entrance and stopped in a short corridor. He seemed to be confused, and finally asked a passing maidservant to find someone in authority. A short time later she returned with a formidable woman in her fifties, who was wearing a long black dress.

"I am Frau Fischer, the housekeeper. What is it you want?" No queen could have been more imperious. She obviously regarded Black Suit as one of the lower orders.

"This woman is a criminal. His Highness assigned her custody to your master. What do you want to do with her?"

Frau Fischer looked me over, contemptuously. "A criminal, eh? That's a novelty. Usually our Albert finds his trollops on the streets. Follow me."

She turned and walked away, and Black Suit followed her, dragging me with him. We climbed a steep wooden staircase, my leg irons clattering on every step, and finally emerged through an inconspicuous door into an opulent corridor. Fifty feet down the corridor was another door, and this was unlocked and opened by Frau Fischer.

"This is the room Albert uses for sex. Put her in here."

Black Suit pushed me through the door and it was slammed and locked. I was in a small bedroom, plainly furnished. There was a single bed and a small table in one corner holding a pitcher and a washbasin. The window had no curtains or drapes.

I decided not to take off the handcuffs, since that would do me no good now and might be useful later, but I did step through them and bring my hands from the back to the front of my body. There was a chamber pot under the bed and I emptied my bladder. The pitcher contained water and I slaked my thirst. My immediate needs seen to, I lay on the bed and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

I awoke when I heard the door open. I did not know what time it was, but it was dark outside. Albert entered the room. He staggered and only kept himself from falling by clutching the door frame. "Dark in here," he slurred. "Light a lamp, Fritz. I want to see Max's slut up close."

Another man entered the room and lit the gas lamp affixed to the wall. The incandescent mantle illuminated the room and its occupants. Albert was a scrawny youth, with a blotched complexion. Fritz was a large man, wearing a livery displaying the Ducal coat of arms.

Albert leered at me. "Not bad! I like red hair. Outside, Fritz, and close the door. I don't like an audience."

He lurched over to the side of the bed, and without preamble pulled my dress and chemise up to my waist, exposing my bare crotch. He fumbled with the fastening on his trousers and then dropped them to his knees, displaying a small, flaccid penis. He crawled on top of me, pawing at my breasts and gagging me with his alcoholic breath. His weight rested on my body, and the handcuffs hurt my wrists and pressed painfully into my abdomen.

I lay as still as possible. I knew it was futile to resist, and doing so would only bring me pain. Albert's legs forced my knees apart, and I waited for him to penetrate me. But this did not occur, in spite of his increasingly frantic activity, and I realized that Albert's penis was still flaccid. This was contrary to my experience with Max, and I did not know why Albert was having a problem obtaining an erection.

Albert was incensed by his failure. He sat up, his knees straddling my waist, and slapped my face. "This is all your fault, bitch!" he screamed. "I've never had any trouble before!" He slapped me again, and then he struck my jaw with his fist. The feeble blow didn't even stun me, but I pretended to lose consciousness. I closed my eyes and went limp.

Albert got off the bed and opened the door. "Fritz! Fritz! Get this worthless bitch out of here!"

"What should I do with her, my lord?"

"She's a bitch, so she belongs in the kennel. And make sure she stays there."

I could hear Albert staggering down the corridor and then Fritz entered the room. "Put her in the kennel?" Fritz muttered. "We don't have a kennel. Scheisse, I need some help."

He left the room, closing and locking the door. A short time later he entered the room with another man. "So what do I do, Horst? Our Albert said to put her in the kennel, but I don't know of no kennel."

Footsteps stopped next to the bed and a hand stroked my crotch. "Albert couldn't get it up, eh? I wouldn't mind taking his place, and I don't have his problem."

"Better not," Fritz cautioned, "you know how jealous he is. It isn't worth losing your job, or worse, just for a quick fuck. What do we do with her?"

"There's that old doghouse next to the stable, where they used to keep the coach dogs. We could put her there."

"Good idea! Let's get on with it. I still have a lot to do before we leave tomorrow."

"Right, I have a lot to do, too. You take her legs, I'll take her shoulders."

I was picked up and the two men carried me down the back stairs and outside through the kitchen. I still pretended to be unconscious, but I peeked every now and then. We went out a back door and into the stone-paved courtyard between the house and a large stable and carriage house opposite. There was enough moonlight to allow me to see that high stone walls connected the house and the stable, and the wide wooden gate in one wall was the one I had gone through when I was brought here.

Fritz said, "Put her down here, while I get a lantern from the kitchen."

In a few minutes he returned and the yellow glow illuminated our path across the courtyard as the two men carried me to the corner between the stable and the wall that was farthest from the house. Placed right in the corner was a wooden doghouse, perhaps three feet wide and three feet tall at the highest point of its peaked roof. The door was smaller, about two feet square, and it was covered with a worn piece of burlap.

The men dropped me on the ground. Fritz asked, "How do we keep her here?"

Horst replied, "How about this chain?" He rattled the links. "It's rusty, but it's sound. I remember seeing a padlock in the pantry. Wait here, I'll get it."

He returned in a few minutes with a large rusty lock. Fritz started to wrap the chain around my neck, and then he saw my collar. "This is convenient. Lock the chain to that ring on her collar." There was a loud click. "What shall we do with the key?"

"There wasn't any key that I could find. Let someone else worry about that. I've got other things to do."

"I feel sorry for the girl, she's being treated like an animal. And she may be badly hurt. Shouldn't we do something about that?"

"What can we do? We followed orders. We did our duty. Our Albert is an asshole, but that's not our fault."

"Don't say that so loud! You're right, let's go, I've got work to do too."

The two men walked away, leaving me lying on the stone pavement. As soon as they were gone I stood up and examined the chain locked to my collar. The padlock at my neck was solid, and the other end of the chain was bolted to the heavy timber that formed the peak of the doghouse roof. I could not make out much more in the dark, so further examination would have to wait for morning.

I freed my hands from the handcuffs and crawled inside the doghouse. It was empty, with no bedding of any kind, but I hoped that meant there weren't any fleas, either. It did have a floor of wooden planks so I didn't have to lie on the cold stone. The length of the doghouse was too small to allow me to stretch out, so I curled up as best I could and tried to sleep.

* * *

I woke up just before dawn. I had not got much sleep during the night, between the cold and the cramped quarters. I was also experiencing a different type of cramp, since my monthly flow had started. This was annoying, but it also was a relief, as I no longer had to worry about carrying Max's baby. I ripped up my chemise and formed a makeshift pad to absorb the blood.

Soon the courtyard was bustling with activity. The Ducal carriage, pulled by four magnificent horses, was brought out, followed by four much plainer carriages and a large wagon. Fritz and Horst, in their livery, were atop the Ducal carriage as it left the courtyard. A parade of servants carrying baggage of various sorts trooped from the house to the remaining vehicles like a stream of ants. After a while this stopped, and then the servants themselves were loaded into the carriages and the everybody left the courtyard.

During all this time I remained in the doghouse, anxious that no one should see me. The last thing I wanted was to accompany Albert, and with any luck he would forget about me. Once everyone had gone and the wooden gate was closed I crept out and surveyed my surroundings, starting with the chain that held me prisoner. It was about ten feet long, and, although not particularly heavy, it was more than strong enough to constrain my movements. I again tested the bolt that fastened it to the doghouse and the lock on my collar, but neither responded to my efforts to get free.

There was a pottery bowl next to the door to my kennel that once contained water, but it was dry now. I was very hungry, but that was not unusual for me, and I wondered if anyone had been told to provide me with food and water. All I could do was wait, so I sat in the sun with my back to the wall and dozed.

I was awakened several hours later when an old man with a grizzled white beard and worn clothing kicked my foot. "Hey!" he shouted. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

I opened my eyes and sat up. "My name is Jennifer Harrison, and I'm Albert's slave. He ordered that I be put here." I jingled the chain attached to my collar.

"Slave? What are you talking about? There are no slaves in Germany."

"You are technically correct, but practically there is no difference. I was Maximillian's slave, and now I am Albert's slave. Please sir, could I have some water?"

"I suppose." He tottered off in the direction of the stable and soon returned with a bucket of water, and he poured some into the bowl.

I picked up the bowl and relieved my thirst, and he refilled it. "Thank you, sir. You are very kind. Could I have some food, too?"

"I don't have any, but I'll go to the kitchen and find out what's happening. And you don't have to call me sir. My name is Adolf Kühn."

"Thank you, Herr Kühn. I would appreciate any food you can obtain." I had decided I needed to be exceedingly polite to this old man, as he might be my only contact with the world, my only source of food and water.

He disappeared into the kitchen and I anxiously awaited his return. My hopes for a meal were dashed when he reappeared empty-handed. "Frau Fischer says she received no instructions about you, so she wouldn't give me anything." He reached into his coat and produced half of a loaf of bread. "I took this when she wasn't looking. Now tell me where you're from and how you ended up chained to a doghouse."

As I ate I related my story, how Max had arranged for me to be imprisoned and paroled to him, how I appeared in his act, and how my custody was given to Albert when Max died. I didn't tell him about Max's attempt on the life of the Duke.

"So why did Albert have you chained out here?"

"He attempted to have intercourse with me, but was unable to do so. This angered him, and he had Fritz put me out here. I'm lucky, in a way. He could have had me sent back to prison, and to my death."

Herr Kühn laughed, "That sounds like our Albert. He fails at everything he tries, and it's always somebody else's fault."

"I saw the activity in the courtyard this morning. What is happening?"

"Albert always goes to the spa at Baden-Baden this time of year. He says it's for the baths, but it's really for the Casino. He departed this morning, along with his staff. In a week or so the house will be closed up for the summer and most of the servants dismissed. I'm one of the few that will still be around."

I was immensely relieved to hear that. I did not want to see Albert again. But I had other worries. "But what about me? How shall I live if Frau Fischer won't provide me with food?"

"I don't know. I suppose I can steal food from the kitchen for a while, but once the kitchen closes it won't be available. I can't buy food for you, because my pay is so low that I can barely afford to feed myself. I'm sorry, but if I supplied you too we would both starve."

"Can you help me escape? I don't want to die here."

"I don't dare. Frau Fischer knows you're here, and if she notices you have escaped she will call the police. Even if I was only suspected of helping you escape I would be dismissed, and not only me, but also my son and daughter-in-law. I'm sorry, but I can't take the chance. Wait for a while, things must get better."

"I understand. You owe me nothing; rather I owe you, and I appreciate your kindness. Do you suppose you could get me a blanket? It's cold at night, and I'm wearing all the clothing I have."

"I'll see what I can find. But I must get back to work, so goodbye for now."

Herr Kühn left, and I sat by myself and contemplated my bleak future. Even if I could get the chain off my neck how could I even get out of the courtyard? And anyway, what could I do then? I had no money and my ankles were chained. Escape from Germany was impossible. I thought of one chance I might have, but the odds against success were long.

It was almost sunset when Herr Kühn returned. He gave me some more bread and a thick blanket that smelled strongly of horse. "Thank you, Herr Kühn. May I ask one more favor? Could you get me a pencil and paper?"

"Yes, I can do that. Do you want it right away?"

"Yes, please." Herr Kühn went into the stable and soon returned with a pencil stub and a piece of brown paper. I hurriedly scrawled a note, explaining where I was and describing my predicament. I also gave a brief history of the events of the last few days. Then I handed the note to Herr Kühn. "Please take this paper to the city and give it to Herr Speer. I don't know where he resides, but he is an attorney, so you should be able to find his office. I'm sure he will pay you for your trouble."

"Well, I don't know. It's a long way into the city, and I can't be away from my job."

I knelt before him and begged, "Please, please! This is my last hope, and you must help me." I started crying, and it wasn't all pretense. "I'll do anything you ask."

"No need for that, and I'm too old anyway. I'll do it, please stop crying. I'll leave early tomorrow morning, so I can be in the city when the businesses open."

"Oh, thank you! You may have saved my life."

* * *

The next day I anxiously awaited Herr Kühn's arrival, but he didn't appear until mid-morning. "Please tell me. Did you deliver the message?"

"Yes, I gave it to Herr Speer personally. He gave me two marks, so the trip was worthwhile." Herr Kühn was carrying a bucket of water, and he filled my bowl.

"What did Herr Speer say?"

"Nothing. He read the note, but he didn't say anything to me."

I could not interpret this. Was Herr Speer going to help me, or was he going to ignore me? In the worst case, Herr Kühn could be lying about delivering the note. All I could do was wait, and it wasn't easy. I tried to avoid dwelling on my likely fate, but I was very morose and I cried often.

Several days went by. Herr Kühn still filled my water bowl, but he could only provide me with scraps of food, and he didn't spend much time with me. I suppose he felt bad about not being able to give me more food, and he didn't want to watch as I starved. To make what food I did get go as far as possible all I did was sit quietly. After a while I was able to achieve a trance-like state.

I heard nothing from Herr Speer, and the hope generated by sending my message to him was fading. After all, what could he do? I was legally a convict. Albert, like Max, could do with me as he wished. Indeed, except for the lack of food I was now being treated less harshly than I would have been treated in prison. Herr Speer could do nothing to help me legally, and why would he risk his position to help me illegally? I was just as doomed now as I was when I was tied to the whipping post, and all I could hope for was an easier death. I tried to fight against my depression and lethargy, but without success.

More time passed. The house was closed now, and some days I got no food at all. Then one night I was awakened by a strange whistling noise. Puzzled, I crawled out of the doghouse to see what was causing it. As soon as my head was outside it was covered with a cloth sack and hands seized my arms and pulled me the rest of the way out. I opened my mouth to scream, but something like a bit was forced into it and tied in place by a rope around the back of my head. I struggled, but there were at least two men holding me, and my arms were forced behind my back and my wrists crossed and tightly tied with rope. Next my ankles were tied together, and then tied to my wrists by a short rope. I was now completely helpless, and all I could do was wriggle ineffectually and whimper.

I heard the sound of a hammer striking metal; presumably my chain was being cut with a chisel. Then I was picked up and placed in a wheelbarrow and trundled across the courtyard and for some distance beyond. I was transferred to a carriage and placed face-down on the floor. We traveled in it for some time, and my discomfort escalated into pain. By now I was completely disoriented, and when I was carried out of the carriage, into a building, and down some stairs, I had no idea where I was.

I was placed on the floor and I heard the click of a lock. Much to my relief, the ropes on my wrists and ankles were cut off and the gag removed from my mouth. I took the bag off my head, and saw that I was in a cellar, illuminated only by one dim gas lamp. Two masked men were standing by the door, and they left without saying anything, locking the door behind them.

The chain attached to my collar was locked around a thick wooden support post in the center of the stone-paved cellar. The cellar was furnished with a straw-filled pallet with two folded blankets, a jug containing water, a pottery cup, and a chamber pot. There was only about three feet of chain between my collar and the post, so most of the cellar, including the door and the lamp, was inaccessible to me. I moved the pallet close to the post and lay on it, the first comfort I had experienced in days. I wrapped myself in the blankets and slept.

When I awoke daylight was shining through two small barred windows at the top of one wall of the cellar. A short time later the door was unlocked and a masked man entered carrying a tray. He put it on the floor and retreated out of the door without saying a word. The tray contained a large breakfast, served on china dishes and with pewter utensils, and I devoured it. Whoever my captors were they didn't stint on food. Perhaps they were fattening me up for nefarious reasons. If so, I would cooperate by eating all that I could.

An hour or so later the door opened again and the two masked men entered, this time carrying a large washtub, two buckets of warm water, a bar of soap, and a towel. As a bonus, one man removed my leg irons. The last time I had bathed was the day before the performance, and I looked and felt dirty. Once the men left the cellar I quickly stripped off my shoes, stockings, and dress, my only clothes since I had sacrificed my chemise. I stood in the tub and poured water over my head. It then occurred to me that I might be secretly observed, but I just shrugged and continued to bathe. When I had finished I felt much better, and only regretted that I didn't have any clean clothes.

At midday the men reappeared with a tray containing another substantial meal, and more food was forthcoming at sunset. This routine continued for over a week, and soon I felt much better, at least physically. I still wondered why I was a prisoner here and who was responsible for my captivity. Would my next journey be to the seraglio of some oriental despot? Whatever my fate, I was powerless to alter it, and all my time in captivity had taught me not to worry about the future.

One evening the men appeared about an hour after sunset. They were carrying rope, and I didn't bother to resist when they tied my hands behind my back and also tied my knees and ankles. The cloth sack went over my head and the gag went into my mouth. One man put me over his shoulder and carried me outside and placed me into a carriage. This time I was sitting on the seat, so I was not too uncomfortable.

This journey lasted for about an hour, and I could tell we were traveling on city streets for much of that time. The carriage stopped and I was lifted out and stood on the ground. One man whispered, "We're going to put you in a trunk. It won't be for long, so be quiet and don't struggle. If you do you'll regret it."

I was not reassured by this, but any resistance I made would be futile, so I passively allowed myself to be folded into a large trunk. The lid was locked and the trunk was placed on end (fortunately with my head up), and then it was being moved on a trolley. I was bumped up some stairs, across a very smooth surface, and then I was carried up more stairs. I heard one of the men knock on a door, and then I was carried some more. The trunk was put down, the lid was opened, and I was dumped out onto a carpeted floor. More footsteps, and the door closed.

I felt a knife cutting the ropes off, and then the gag was removed, followed by the sack over my head. Lady Agnes was standing over me, and Betsy was kneeling next to me with the knife. "Hello, Jenny," Lady Agnes said. "I've had to go to a lot of trouble to get you back."

I was speechless with astonishment. Finally I was able to ask, "Where are we?"

"In the hotel in Gorhalt."

"But I'm an escaped convict! The police must be looking for me. I can't stay here."

"Not to worry. I purchased your custody from Albert. You're mine now."

"How... How..." I sputtered.

"When Herr Speer got your message he telegraphed me. It took a while for his message to find me, but once I got it I swung into action. This is the most exciting thing I've done in years! I hired a professional gambler and sent him to Baden-Baden to fleece Albert. Once all of Albert's money was gone I made him an offer for your custody that he was glad to accept. In the meantime, I hired some men to kidnap you and keep you until the paperwork was all in order. I received the documents today and they delivered you to me."

"I owe you my life, Lady Agnes. I got almost no food when I was Albert's prisoner, and I was sure I was going to starve to death. But why didn't those men tell me you had hired them?"

"If Albert didn't sell you to me I was going to keep you anyway, but that would have been illegal, and in that case I didn't want them to know who hired them."

"I will be eternally grateful for all that you have done for me, Lady Agnes. What do you want me to do now?"

"You will continue be my companion, but with a change in your status." She lifted the chain still attached to my collar. "We'll have to get this chain off, but the collar will stay on. 'Slave jenny' - the inscription is still appropriate. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

The End

Epilogue

Lady Agnes, Betsy, and I spent the summer and autumn touring Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, and we moved into Lady Agnes' villa in Tuscany for the winter. By then I was Lady Agnes' slave in all respects. I called her mistress, and I obeyed her without hesitation. Once I could not leave Lady Agnes because I had no money, now I could not leave because without her protection I faced prison and certain death. This was never overtly mentioned, but it was on my mind at all times, and it reinforced my acquired servility.

The class-based conventions were observed, in that Betsy performed her duties as a personal maid and I performed mine as a secretary-companion, but my true status was actually lower than Betsy's, since Betsy was not wearing a collar that proclaimed she was a slave. But Betsy and I became close friends in spite of my lowly status and our class differences.

Both of us were punished for real or imagined transgressions, and I was beaten about twice a month, on average. But my life was tolerable, all things considered. The sex was physically pleasant, whether I partnered individually with Lady Agnes or Betsy or participated in a group activity with both of them, but it did not compare to what I had experienced with Max, and I longed for male companionship.

In the spring Lady Agnes made plans to return to Germany. As the date of our departure drew near my anxiety increased, because I recognized the great risk I was facing whenever I was under German jurisdiction. If something happened to Lady Agnes my parole would lapse, and I could be sent back to prison, or wherever the Duke of Gorhalt chose. Indeed, the Duke could revoke my parole even if Lady Agnes objected, and he could then sell me to the highest bidder, with all that implied.

There was a deeper, hidden cause for my unhappiness, one that even I hadn't really recognized. I involuntarily displayed it one day when one of our Italian day staff brought her two-year-old daughter to work with her. Lady Agnes and I were sitting in the garden when the little girl joined us, and we were charmed by her beauty and her cheerful behavior. I hugged the child, and suddenly I was sobbing.

"What is the matter, Jenny?" Lady Agnes asked.

"Nothing, Mistress. Just a foolish thought. I don't want to bother you with it."

"Tell me, Jenny! That is an order."

"Well, I was just thinking that when I complete my sentence I'll be 38 years old, too old to have a child. I'll never have a little girl of my own, and it makes me sad." I released the child and pushed her away. "But I'm all right now, Mistress. Some things are not to be, and I'll adjust."

Lady Agnes said nothing, and the subject never came up again.

* * *

In early May we left the villa and traveled to Leghorn, the nearest city with good railway connections to Germany. We would spend the night in a hotel, and then depart for Berlin the next morning. About a hour before bedtime I was quietly reading in the sitting room of our suite when suddenly Lady Agnes said, "Betsy, tie Jenny's hands behind her back."

I was surprised when I heard this. I had done nothing wrong that I knew of, and always when I was whipped my hands were tied in front, so they could be fastened over my head. We often used bondage when we had sex, but not before we took our clothes off. But as an obedient slave girl I stood and did not resist when Betsy crossed my wrists and tied them tightly with the thin rope. My surprise, and my fear, increased when Lady Agnes blindfolded me with a scarf and clipped a leash to the ring on my collar. What was she going to do?

"I suppose you wonder what this is all about," she said. "What I have to say may shock you, so I've bound you to prevent you from doing anything rash."

She paused and my fear mounted. I could not imagine what this was all about, or why I had to be bound before hearing her announcement. Lady Agnes sometimes displayed a perverse sense of humor. Was this some bizarre joke?

Lady Agnes let the tension build before she spoke. "Jenny, I have sold you to a man who plans to take you to the east. It is possible you will never return to Europe."

I was stunned. Had she sold me to an Ottoman slave dealer? Was I going to vanish into some harem? I started to plead with her, but she put her hand on my mouth, and, obeying my conditioning, I stopped talking.

There was knock on the door. "That must be the buyer. Open the door, Betsy." Lady Agnes hugged me. "Goodbye, Jenny. I'll always love you." She kissed me, and I kissed her back. I was too shaken to say anything. My fear increased when Betsy also kissed me and I felt her tears on my face.

Someone entered the room. Lady Agnes said, "Welcome, sir. Here is your merchandise. I hope you are satisfied with your purchase."

This mysterious buyer said nothing, but he pulled on my leash and I followed him out into the corridor. We walked a few steps and another door opened. I was led forward and I could tell we were inside another room. The door was closed and I heard the lock click.

My blindfold was removed and I saw that my new owner was Robert! He took me in his arms and kissed me. I eagerly responded, opening my mouth and pressing my body against him. When our lips separated I said, "Oh, Robert, I've missed you so much. But what are you doing here? I thought you were in Australia."

"I was in Australia. I left two months ago and came to Europe to find you. It took a while, Lady Agnes was hard to track down."

"But how could you afford it? You were almost penniless when you left England."

"I struck it rich in the gold fields, and I sold a part interest in my claims for a lot of money. Now that I've found you we'll be returning to Australia. I've booked passage on a steamer that sails tomorrow. The captain can marry us once we're at sea."

He put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "You do not have to do this, Jenny. Lady Agnes will take you back and you can continue your life with her, if you wish."

"Oh no, Robert! I love you and I want to marry you. But I am a convicted criminal. If I'm your wife will this affect your social position?"

"In Australia?" He laughed. "Of course not. Half the population have convicts as ancestors." He turned me around and untied my hands. "Tying your hands and pretending she sold you to a slaver was Lady Agnes' farewell joke. She asked me to play along, and I could not refuse her. Where's the key to your collar?"

"There isn't one. The collar is permanently locked around my neck. It will have to be cut off."

"We can get that done on the ship. Now, for tonight I've also booked the room next door. You can sleep there if you wish, since we're not married yet."

"I'm still wearing my collar so I'm still your slave girl, Master. My place is in your bed." I put my arms around his neck and kissed him. I was aroused, and I pressed my hard nipples into his chest. "Let's not wait any longer, Master."

"What are you doing, Jenny? Why are you so wild?"

"I'm deliriously happy because I belong to the man I love. When we're married I'll be a model of decorum, but right now I'm your slave girl, and I have no inhibitions. But if you want me to go I'll go, Master. You have only to command me and I will obey." I released him and took a step back.

"No inhibitions, eh? I still plan to marry you tomorrow, but perhaps we can leave the collar on for a bit longer. Kiss me, slave girl."