Author's Note: Forget Wonder Woman !

Join Boot Girl as she battles Villainesses across the Harmony skyline, rescues damsels in distress and endures some pretty intense bondage...while trying to hold down her job and explore her submissive side.


Part 1: Introductions

'This is good stuff.' Jezebel takes a second sip of wine and settles back on the expensive white leather sofa crossing her legs on the back of the pretty and nearly naked brunette tied securely to the low table in front of her by lengths of soft silk rope. 'I must say I really admire your taste.' Jezebel looks round at the spacious apartment with its minimalist decor. 'This is a lovely apartment. And, of course, you've been so helpful. I'm sure you've earned a good few hours of pleasure tonight.'

The brunette doesn't reply although this is perhaps because she is gagged, her soft lips, lightly dusted in pale pink muted gloss, stretched round a large blue rubber ball that is held in place by an exquisitely crafted leather harness buckled around her head; the harness also blindfolds her.

'Of course there will have to be some pain, there always is with these things. Red and green I think they call it these days, pain and pleasure, or is it the other way around ?' Jezebel takes another sip. 'It used to be so easy before all this technology.'

The villainess is tall and angular, her light brown hair less glossy than her captive's and hanging free to her shoulders. Her face is thin and very pale made more so by a thick layer of make-up that covers multiple scars and her long nose is slightly crooked where it has been broken at least once. It is a distinctive face, striking and not unattractive despite its catalogue of abuses, the pale features are augmented by lips coated in blue paste and irises that are such a pale shade of blue as to be almost translucent. She is dressed in her customary blue and black striped corset, black satin knickers, sheer black stockings and blue heeled boots, a blue silk choker encircles her throat.

Setting her wine on the floor she picks up an expensive hand stitched riding crop that was lying on the sofa beside the head harness and coils of soft silk rope when she arrived and begins to stroke the helpless girl's bare feet. The girl wriggles slightly but she lies across the table on her belly with her ankles bound tightly to her thighs and cannot prevent her captor from teasing the her soles.

'I mean there was a time when pleasure was, well, physical pleasure; the stroke of a crop across bare flesh, the gentle tweak of a nipple... You're not ticklish are you ?' Jezebel leans forward stroking the girl's glossy hair with her free hand as if she is genuinely anxious she may be upsetting her captive. 'And then there was pain.' She brings the crop down sharply on the brunette's feet producing a gagged squeal then settles back taking up her wine and enjoying another a sip, savouring the taste before swallowing.

'It's all electronic gizmos these days. I mean, I'm not averse to the pleasure of a good vibrator and I'm guessing you aren't either but it's so nice to meet a woman who still enjoys using the crop.' Jezebel sighs and examines the crop as the brunette struggles futily with her bonds.

When the girl has stilled Jezebel strokes the crop over her captive's neatly toned bottom and then uses the tip to lift the back of her knickers. The captive brunette is dressed only in pale blue lingerie that is almost translucent, very lacy and exceedingly flattering on her slim tanned body with its large breasts. 'My guess is you're the dominant one, I mean, assuming you're currently in a relationship. And I really hope you weren't wasting that delightful lingerie on your cat.'

'Of course, you might be submissive and single and the crop is just symbolic.'

'..ea.e !' The girl's plea is rendered barely comprehensible by the large ball in her mouth. As she pleads she strains again against her bonds but they hold firm.

Jezebel smiles and lifts her feet off the girls' back.

'No, definitely dominant. Which means I'd better be going.'

She sets the wine goblet down on the girl's back.

'Try not t struggle too much. I'd hate you to spill wine on this lovely carpet and that Angelisch crystal is beautiful.' Jezebel crosses to the window. 'Personally I find a lot of Angelsich stuff a bit overstated but they really know how to work crystal.'

The helpless girl give another plea through her gag but does not struggle. Jezebel smiles as she opens the window then climbs agily up onto the ledge. The apartment is on the thirty third floor and behind her the city of Harmony glints in the late afternoon sunlight. Jezebel turns to look out.

'Such a great view of the city.'

As she turns back she pulls a small device from the top her corset where it has been nestling between her small breasts.

'Nearly forgot. Just a little something to keep you amused until lover-girl comes to free you. Wonder what she'll say to find you all tied up like this ? Might even change her way of thinking. I mean it would for me if I didn't have to go. Of course, I quite enjoy being single; new girl every night, well, sometimes several actually, but I miss the security of a long term relationship. Anyway, it's nothing personal you understand.' Jezebel squeezes the device and the girl squeals loudly through her gag, jerking in her bonds enough to make the wine on her back slop around inside the crystal.

Jezebel sits on the window ledge watching the brunette for several minutes as the vibrator she has planted in the girl's sex begins to arouse her. Then, as the girl's breathing quickens and she gives a small gasp her cheeks starting to flush where they can be seen between the blindfold and the gag, Jezebel smiles to herself, pats the small blue velvet pouch at her belt which contains the brunette's sapphires, blows the girl a kiss and slips gracefully through the open window. Without any apparent care for the vertiginous drop below her, Jezebel reaches for a handhold and begins to climb.

'Now that's how a slave should be treated.' Pauline looks on appreciatively as the girl is lead towards them on a nipple leash. The slave is tall and slim and tanned and exquisitely restrained, arms held behind her in a shiny purple leather sheath pinned palm to palm, forearm to forearm, elbow to elbow; she is hooded too, a shiny smooth leather pump hood enclosing her head completely. Despite these restraints she sashays elegantly behind her mistress on the points of her toe boots and vertiginous heels that extended seamlessly into thigh boots matching her restraints. Her huge and clearly augmented breasts are bare, swinging mesmerisingly as she walks, nipples, also enhanced, clamped at the base in gold clasps designed to look like handcuffs and to which her leash is fastened. Her only shred of modesty, if it could be given such an august title, comes from a tiny thong, also of shiny purple and elegantly stitched leather, that covers almost nothing of her utterly desirable body.

Adele makes a show of studying her.

'A little ostentatious, I'd say. And, if you are implying that you want to take me out like that I would remind you firstly that I am your mother's slave, not yours and, secondly, that I wouldn't be much use as a bodyguard restrained like that.'

'You've got to admit you'd be pretty cute though.'

Adele frowns.

'Oh, Adele, we're in the Mall.' Pauline gestures around her. 'What harm could come to me ? I'm twenty one next week. Remember ? A big girl.'

'Oh, yes, another four years and you can Pledge.' Adele's voice is heavy with sarcasm; she is used to dealing with such comments. 'Not too big to endure a night in the punishment room ! I would remind you that you are the daughter of the Contesse de Renee, matriarch of this city and empress of a lot more. As princess of Belladonia, you are thus a potential target. Anyway, do you have any idea who that slave belongs to ?'

Pauline looks longingly once again at the narrow hips swaying deliciously towards her and then makes herself look at the dominatrix holding the girl's leash. The woman's clothing is also shiny purple leather, exquisitely cut and stitched and covered in multiple leather straps buckling her tightly into a curvaceous feminine form. Her shoulders are broad and athletic, their pale bare flesh decorated with freckles in contrast to the shiny straps that rise from a bustier displaying a very full cleavage above a tightly cinched waist. High cut briefs expose the same pale freckled flesh at the tops of her thigh and straps from her corset suspend the tops of leather thigh boots. The boot heels are not as extreme as those of her helpless slave though reach six inches because of toe platforms. She wears matching gloves supported from her shoulders by straps and a short cloak gathered behind a studded collar. The woman is cowled too, like a heroine, Pauline notes, the cowl gathering her hair which descends in a flame red ponytail, kept in check at short intervals by more shiny leather straps.

The woman's appearance arouses a mix of feelings in the princess, most of them pleasurable. 'She reminds me of one of the old heroines.'

'You've not forgotten everything about our culture while you were at that posh finishing school but your conclusion is wrong. She doesn't look like Madame Bondage, she is Madam Bondage !'

Pauline's jaw falls open and Adele turns to walk on hiding a smile.

'How come she's allowed here ?' Pauline rushes to catch up with her companion and protector. 'I thought all heroines were banned from the city, certainly in colours ?' Pauline has catches Adele's arm and, despite her earlier protestations walks a closer to the blonde than she has previously. She speaks in a whisper.

'Your mother's ban should apply to all but the old aristos still enjoy their privileges and I can't see anyone challenging Madam Bondage. Can you ?' Adele gives the princess a knowing look. 'She can come and go more or less as she pleases and, take a few liberties on the way. I'm sure it would please Madam Bondage to go with a pair of buxom slaves dangling by their nipples on the ends of leashes.'

Pauline folds her arms over her breasts as she walks before realising what she is doing and drops them hurriedly to her sides again, a slight flush coming to her cheeks.

Adele turns to look at her raising an eyebrow. 'Or perhaps your Ladyship would like that ?'

'I...' Pauline hesitates briefly imagining herself settling for Submission. The thought does not disturb her as much as it might have. She feels herself colouring more.

Madam Bondage and her slave are a few meters ahead now and Adele stops, Pauline standing beside her. The heroine stops too, halting her slave with a deft movement that places a crop across the girl's bare midriff.

Adele bows and Pauline follows suit, trying to ensure she delivers acknowledgement, not submission and certainly not Submission. It is one thing to learn and practice in class and quite another to do it in front of such a woman.

'How are you Adele ?'

'You honour me, Madam. I am well. May I present the Lady Pauline de Renee ?'

Madam Bondage nods her head and Pauline recognises the intended slight. Ice blue eyes regard her from behind the cowl.

'Lady Bishop, you honour us with your presence. I trust you are enjoying your visit to our city.' Pauline emphasises the possessive.

The heroine's smile appears genuine. Pauline's use of the plural, while it could easily be interpreted as a welcome from the citizens of Harmony, has been delivered in the context of her standing as the daughter of the city's monarch.

Madam Bondage bows with appropriate deference.

'I am indeed enjoying my visit, Princess de Renee. It is sadly one of too few I am able to make. So much of my time is taken by my role as guardian of you mother's northern realm.'

'I am sure we are all most grateful for your diligence, Madam.' Pauline bows more deeply than necessary.

'Charming.' Madam Bondage smiles at Adele and then looks back at Pauline. The blue eyes take in the princess' pretty face with its brown eyes, high cheekbones and full lips then drift unhurriedly down her lithe, tanned form noting the large breasts, narrow waist and slim hips. The Princess de Renee is a typical high born Harmony girl.

'Perhaps you would allow me to return the hospitality at some point and pay a visit to Castle Strangeways.' Madam Bondage continues to scrutinise her.

Pauline tries her best not to be disconcerted by such intense appraisal wishing she had not chosen such a skimpy bustier that morning as she feels her nipples hardening under such dominating scrutiny.

'I would be honoured, Lady Bishop.' Pauline tries to ensure her voice does not betray the turmoil of emotions suddenly unleashed inside her.

Madam Bondage looks at Adele once more.

'Absolutely charming.'

She bows once more to Pauline and then, with a brief jerk on her slave's nipple leash she leaves the two women alone.

Adele turns to face Pauline. 'I think someone's just passed a very important test. Maybe that posh school wasn't a complete waste of time after all.

Pauline takes a deep breath to calm herself. 'It's a shame Mum disbanded the Sisterhood of Heroines. I'd be more comfortable knowing Lady Bishop was on my side.'

'Oh come the crunch, I'm sure she'll be on our side. And, do I need to remind you why the Heroines were disbanded ?'

'I know, the hold up where mum's sister was killed.'

'Yes, if Destiny hadn't gone charging, in Lady Blush might still be with us.'

'If she hadn't tried Lady Blush might have been killed anyway.'

'That's not the way the court, or your mother, saw it. Anyway, there was a string of incidents leading up to it. Your mother had to disband them.'

'Including a certain Blonde Avenger causing a six car pile up by going into action half naked one morning.'

'I thought your mother was in danger, I did at least stop to put my underwear on.'

'Would you do that for me ? Come out half naked if I was in danger ?'

'That would depend on how you'd got into trouble in the first place. I might just let Madame Bondage rescue you then collect you in a couple of months when you'd learned your lesson.'

Pauline laughs though somewhat nervously. 'She is on our side, right ?'

'Like I said, if push came to shove... If it didn't then I'd say she's a woman who likes the finer things in life and, if she takes a liking to that chest of yours and those perky little nipples she's not above taking certain liberties even if you are a princess of the realm.'

Pauline blushes furiously and seeks a topic that will take them away from her as yet unclear sexuality. 'Mum's banned Boot Girl too, hasn't she ?'

'Boot Girl was no more than a vigilante and not a particularly good one at that. Is a vigilante, I should say, she continues to pop up where she shouldn't. One day I'm sure the police will catch up with her. The ban applies to her, all the heroines and all the so called 'villainesses'. It makes things easier. You wear colours and cause trouble you take your punishment.'

'Except Madam Bondage.'

'Visiting nobles may dress as they choose, as long as they don't go round causing trouble.'

'Surely Boot Girl doesn't cause trouble.'

'She does and, because she flies around in costume getting into fights, there are half a dozen costumed villainesses who think they can do the same.'

'But she's wicked ! I saw her in action once, flying in on her jet boots. There was this fire. She went in to rescue people. I used to wish I could be like her.'

Adele smiles warmly and almost wants to hug the young excitable girl that has, for so many years, too often been suppressed by awkward adolescence.

'Shall we get back to business.' Adele stops for a moment to ascertain her bearings. 'You need a dress for your party on Friday.' As she speaks she turns to head off down one of the Mall's higher end walkways.

'Ok.' A devious look enters in Pauline's brown eyes and she reaches out to grasp Adele's arm stopping her. 'Just one more thing.'

'What ?' Adele asks suspiciously, turning to face her.

'When you were Golden Girl, the Blonde Avenger, the Double-G nickname, was that really...?' Pauline cups her hands under her own breasts making a suggestive gesture.

'Who told you that ?' Adele has heard this many times before, though not from her charge.

'Oh, you know, some girl at that posh finishing school of mine.'

'Must be true then !' Adele turns and starts to walk away.

'No really, I know mum likes...big girls, did you ever...I mean, like Madame B's slave..., you know...bit of enhancement ?'

Adele turns and squares up her young charge, a stern look on her face, the breasts in question thrust firmly and unmissably forward. 'Now, young lady, as I said, you're not above spending a night in the punishment room.' Unfortunately she can't manage to keep the straight face she is hoping to hold; she struggles briefly to do so before as a grin spread across her strong features. 'All I will say is, yes, it is was a fair description of the goods at the time. Since I've been your mother's pledged slave she has commanded certain...alterations.' She pushes a strand of curly blonde hair out of her face in a slightly self-conscious manner and Pauline looks down at her companion's formidable cleavage. 'Now, come on, Lady Pauline, I have a parcel for your mother to pick up.'

The older woman turns and strides purposefully towards the slave livery from which Madam Bondage and her slave have just emerged.

It is Pauline's turn to smile.

If we're going in here, I strongly suspect the package is really for you my sexy governess.

Candy wears a sheath dress in green latex that hugs the curves of her voluptuous body like a second skin from her neck to her ankles, stretching taut across the huge swellings of her breasts outlining her large hard nipples, flattening across the comparatively slender curve of her waist and flaring delightfully across her wide hips and full bottom before tapering down her firm thighs and calves to a narrow cuff no wider than that around her neck that permits her only tiny steps as she walks. As she moves the dress reflects the light, flexing so that it emphasises and controls the sway of her breasts, swelling around her firm buttocks as she squats and straining against her thighs as she walks on her 6 inch heels with tiny hobbled steps.

Candy works in Gallery Soixant-Neuf, number sixty nine Rue Soixant-Neuf, a venue well known to the well heeled citizens of Harmony who regularly attend evening soirees and viewings there hosted by the gallery's owner known to all her customers and friends as Madam Equus. Set in the palace district, the gallery is away from the hubub of the Mall and therefore less accessible to the masses who frequent the art vendors there.

Candy and her twin sister Cherry, both equally voluptuous redheads, act as hostesses, sales girls and, when required, slave girls; both are also fully trained ponies and, when Madam Equus joins the Sunday promenades along Rue Soixant-Neuf, attract even more attention than they do when working in the gallery.

'May I assist you Madam ?' Candy curtsies as far as her tight dress allows and addresses in Angelisch the tall blonde who has just entered the gallery. 'Some refreshment while you view ?'

'White wine.' Lady Devonshire, the Angelisch ambassadress, replies in Bellanian.

'Yes, Madam. We have some Devonian.

Lady Devonshire regards Candy with a firm stare and Candy struggles to suppress a smile. 'I have a case of Linden in the back.'

'That will do nicely. And you'd better bring a paddle back with you if you are not going to behave.'

'Yes, Madam.' Candy smiles and curtsies again leaving Lady Devonshire alone in the gallery.

Candy returns a few moments later carrying a sliver tray bearing a glass of white Linden and, a pair of steel handcuffs and a leather covered wooden paddle.

Lady Devonshire takes the glass and sips the chilled wine. 'Hmmm, not bad. Just because I'm Angelisch doesn't mean I can't enjoy good wine.' She looks disapprovingly at Candy as she replaces the glass on the tray and picks up the cuffs.

'Indeed not, Madam.' The dialogue is well rehearsed and Candy bends rather suggestively to leave the tray on a nearby table before turning to present her wrists together behind he back. Lady Devonshire cuffs her then retrieves her glass and the paddle.

'I assume you will want to punish me.'

'You really are very presumptious this afternoon, my dear.'

Candy smiles. 'Yes, Madam. Would you prefer me kneeling or across the desk ?'

'The desk to start with.'

Candy trips across to the ornate wooden desk with tiny constrained steps on her 6 inch heels and bends over it lifting her cuffed wrists to give a clear swing at her buttocks; she turns her head to look at Lady Devonshire and settles her weight of her chest causing her large breasts to bulge out below her arms.

'How is you Angelisch coming along ?'

'I practice when I can Mistress but Lady Equus keeps me very busy and when I'm not busy I'm often not in a position to practice.'

Lady Devonshire smiles at the delicious curves displayed so submissively before her.

'Yes, I can see how you might end up gagged more often than not. Time for a lesson then.'

'Dak dyu, Madamm.'

'Godd, madischenn. Compt.' The Angel places her glass on the desk beside Candy.

'Ya, Madamm. Ich.'

Lady Devonshire strikes Candy's round bottom.

'Doc...' Another strike follows.

'...doctic fur.'

Lady Devonshire lands the last of two dozen blows on Candy's voluptuous rump.

'Dak dyu, Madamm'

'Godd, madischenn.' Lady Devonshire puts the paddle on the desk beside Candy and takes up her wineglass. 'And where is your delightful sister ?'

'Running an errand. She will be back soon.'

'And you have plans for this evening ?'

'Dyu oder dyus ?'

'Clever girl.' Lady Devonshire smiles. 'Yes, I did mean both of you.'

'Nothing special, Madam.'

'Good. I'll call for you at seven. I'm sure they'll squeeze us in at The Donjon.'

Candy smiles. 'Our favourite.'

'Until this evening then.' Lady Devonshire turns to leave but then pauses as if remembering something. 'Before I go, I'd like to know what happened to the Carrie Vagio.'

'The icon ?'

'Yes. I had planned to buy it.'

'I'm sorry, Madam. It has been sold.'

'I don't suppose you know the whereabouts of the other ?'

'The sister piece is in the palace. On display in the contesse's private penthouse apartment, I believe.'

'And whom, may I ask, purchased yours ?'

'Oh, Madam, you know I'm not supposed to divulge information on our clients to anyone.'

'Of course not, my dear, quite right.' She gives Candy's bottom a gentle squeeze. 'But I'm not really just anyone am I ?'

'Well, I suppose not madam and I'm hardly in a position to prevent you looking in the ledger beside me.

Lady Devonshire peers over. 'Cassandra Lutti.' She pauses. 'The media controller.'

'Yes. That's the one. Came in with her daughter, Beatriz. The girl, the daughter that is, is a real Angelophile. Came into the gallery in full Angelisch dress.'

'Did she now ? Thank you Candy. You've been a very good girl.' Lady Devonshire strokes Candy's rubber coated rump. 'A very good girl indeed.' The Angel turns on her very high heels and leaves Candy bent over the desk.

Candy watches the statuesque blonde as she walks to the gallery door enjoying the swing of her long, booted legs, the sway of her full buttocks and her tightly corseted waist. The Angel's long platinum blonde hair, although wound on the top of her head in the Angelisch fashion hangs to her buttocks, swinging freely as she walks. Candy smiles, squirming in the dreamy warmth arousal the encounter has generated in her body and wondering if the stoic Angel feels the same tingling; it is only then that the redhead realises she is still cuffed. She is about to call out to Lady Devonshire but then shrugs; her sister will no doubt be back in an hour or two to release her and it is not as if the gallery's exclusive clients are unused to being served by a cuffed shop girl.

Fetish drops a black latex glove. 'Pick it up.'

'No !'

The corner of Fetish's mouth twitches, anger replacing smug dominance. 'I'm not sure you heard what I said, Country Girl !' She enunciates every syllable. 'Pick it up, now.'

'My hands are bound.'

'Then you'll just have to go down on your knees and get it with your teeth.' Fetish leans in close to her victim, her face inches from the helpless blonde, her dark eyes probing for fear but the woman's blue eyes stare back defiantly.

Fetish has dark hair and pale olive skin that is heavily tattooed; her face and ears are pierced with multiple silver studs and rings; she wears a very short black wetlook rubber dress that clings tightly to her slim form revealing every nuance including the swellings of her large erect and multiply pierced nipples, the dress has a single shoulder strap on the left; she also wears black rubber thigh boots with high spiked heels and currently a single rubber fingerless opera glove on her left hand. The nails of her left hand are adorned by metal talons and the tattoo there depicts a claw. Over her shoulder is a black rubber bag decorated with spikes.

Frustrated, Fetish looks away, glancing at her companion who lurks behind her victim. 'Lash !'

As she speaks Fetish drives her bare right fist into the woman's belly doubling her over and then Lash plants the heel of her foot into the back of the blonde's right knee pushing her down. With her ankles bound the prisoner cannot step clear and is forced to yield.

'I will not give in to you.'

'You know, I'm really quite pleased you said that. Lash has such forceful powers of persuasion that are a positive pleasure to watch.'

Chain clatters over a pulley as Lash pulls down the lower block of a hoist before hooking it around the kneeling girl's ankle bonds.

Lash is Fetish's partner in crime. She is slim and wiry with a small triangular face and exotic violet eyes; her blonde hair is matted into dreadlocks and she wears what look like tangled leather thongs or perhaps whips that wrap around her entire body form neck to ankle; they part exposing pale flesh between as she moves. While Fetish's movements are lewd and sometimes awkward on her spiked heels, Lash moves with the grace of a dancer or, more accurately, a fighter; she is barefoot, the soles of her feet so thick that shoes are unnecessary. Her weapon of choice is the barbed whip which she carries, currently coiled in her small calloused hands.

Fetish grins sadistically as she takes the winch control, holding it in her taloned hand and flipping open the safety cover with her right.

'You're about to go up in the world.' She thumbs the switch and the motor hums, chain clicking over wheels as it tightens.

As the chain shortens the kneeling blonde struggles furiously, her strong muscles bunching as she strains against the rope binding her wrists behind her back; glaring as she does so at the dark haired villainess standing before her. Despite her efforts the captive blonde is unable to free herself.

The blonde is a carpenter and thus physically strong. She has put up quite a fight before finally being overpowered and has only been bound with the use of a tazer that momentarily paralised her. Accomplished villainesses as they are Lash and Fetish have both sustained several heavy blows before subduing their victim.

As testament to the woman's struggle there is a bruise on her own cheek and her lip is bleeding; there are darkening bruises elsewhere on her body too, a number administered by Fetish after the woman was restrained and as she recovered from the tazer shot. Sweat and sawdust from the floor have left the woman's thick straw-coloured hair matted and soiled her white linen shortie worksuit. The garment had been semi-transparent when whole, woven to cover yet brazenly display the large heavy breasts with their enormous dark nipples, the firm belly, and the taut buttocks, its colour accentuating the ruddy tan of her strong featured face and muscular limbs; now, torn and damp clinging to the bound woman's voluptuous body it hides almost nothing.

The motor buzzes and the chain clicks relentlessly, inevitably lifting the woman's ankles off the floor then, with one final struggle, she overbalances, toppling heavily on the sawdust strewn concrete. Fetish kicks the blonde hard in the belly as she lies helpless but continues to hold the switch open; slowly the woman's legs are lifted, then her hips, then her shoulders and finally her head until she hangs helpless and inverted her matted hair hanging down. Fetish brings the captive's head to just below waist height and then releases the control.

'What do you think, Lash ? How many strokes to strip her ?' Fetish's voice carries a new excitement. She flicks her lip piercings with her studded tongue.

Lash grins uncoiling her long braided whip with its steel barbs, when she speaks her voice is softly accented. 'I could do it in four but I think I'll say six, it'll be more fun.' She draws back her arm and, as Fetish steps back, strikes the first blow, raking it across the woman's belly, shredding the already torn linen. Five more blows follow ripping the garment from the woman's body and leaving bloody welts across her naked skin.

'Lash is such a performer, don't you agree ? Her work is so...exciting.' Fetish rubs her crotch with her bare right hand pushing it towards the blonde's face. The villainess' nipples are clearly erect stretching the fabric of her rubber dress.

'Fuck you !'

'Oh, now. There's no need to be rude. Lash and I are only doing our jobs. But you're new to Harmony. You clearly don't understand the rules, even when they're laid out quite clearly and, shall we say, forcefully for you. So I'll explain them again.' As she speaks she takes the tazer from her bag. 'Lash and I want to look after you, as does our employer, but to do that we need some commitment from your side. Perhaps a hundred Kronas a month. In return for that your shop doesn't get torched and you save yourself a lot of...pain.' She closes the talon tipped fingers of her left hand around one of the helpless carpenter's big nipples, teasing it to erection and then touches the tazer to it. 'Ready ?' Her mouth forms a thin cruel smile as she presses the switch holding it in place as sparks jump between the prongs. After a few seconds the woman cries out.

'Want me to stop ?'

The woman grits her teeth drawing deep breaths to combat the pain.

'You've only go to say please !'.

'Stop it.' The woman swings herself violently in an attempt to escape the pain and succeeds in breaking the contact.

'Well, I think that's some progress but we do need to work on your manners.'

Fetish grabs a handful of blonde hair to control the woman and holds the tazer to the other nipple. The blonde squirms violently.

'Strong this one. I wonder if I might have her trained as a pony. A working one, of course. She's hardly nimble enough for dressage.'

The Livery is a very upmarket affair for the discerning mistress and her equally discerning slave girl, brightly lit with gleaming glass counters and display stands carefully laid out to entice the casual eye. As Pauline and Adele enter they are greeted by a beautiful blonde with large blue eyes wearing little more than bondage and a welcoming smile. She is dressed, or rather, barely dressed, as a classic slave girl: black leather posture collar with matching corset and ankle high slave boots that make her walk in the tips of her toes; her arms are cuffed behind her back in steel shackles, similar restraints hobble her ankles; a red ball gag is buckled around her collar ready for immediate use. The nipples of her enlarged breasts are pierced with large silver rings and a whip hangs from the right one.

'Good afternoon, Mesdammes. How may I serve you.'

'I've come to collect a package for the Contesse.'

The girl bows. 'Of course, Madame. Please follow me.' She heads off with tiny hobbled steps towards the counter presided over by a woman dressed as a classic dominatrix: studded collar, black leather bustier and breeches tucked into shiny thigh boots. Pauline watches the slave for a moment enticed by the swaying hips and tight buttocks but decides not to follow. Instead she moves further into the shop past a display case of chastity devices, mostly metal, designed to cover the breasts and sex keeping them away from prying tongues and fingers; some are fitted with plugs, large dildos and stimulators designed to control arousal at the whim of the dominant. At the end of the display is a chastity/control suit in brown leather. As Pauline approaches it the suit moves and she realises it is being modeled. The girl inside is restrained, though not tightly, her hands in mittens to prevent any real use of her fingers are locked together in front of her by rings at the fingertips, a strap connects this lock to her ankle hobble; she is hooded and gagged with the large ring gag. A pump gag hangs beneath her chin. The suit covers the girl's whole body except her open mouth and is buckled tightly in place, fixed by locks on strategic cuffs; it is covered in D-rings that can be used to increase the degree of the wearers bondage.

'Would Madame like a demonstration of the suit ?' It is another dominatrix shop assistant though this one is dressed in the Angelisch style: plunging cleavage above a tight red and black silk corset, lacy red briefs, black fishnets and suspenders; her outfit is decorated with tiny red bows; around her throat is a pearl necklace; and on her feet shiny patent leather boots with high heels; a hat, little more than a fascinator completes her outfit and a multitailed whip hangs at her hip.

Pauline smiles uncertainly. 'Er, yes, why not ?'

'As you can see the suit is designed to enclose the slave entirely and provide total control. She reaches up and pushes the pump gag into the helpless girl's open mouth. She then picks up a small tablet and activates the screen with a sweep of her fingers, as she touches a button, there is a hiss and the gag begins to inflate. Pauline watches as it fills the girl's mouth and begins to bulge through the ring. The girl makes no immediate response although as her jaw is forced slightly wider her breathing appears to quicken. Satisfied she has reached the correct volume of the gag the assistant touches another button and shows the remote to Pauline.

'Punishment at the top of the screen, reward at the bottom, miscellaneous functions such as the gag in the middle.' She gestures as she speaks. 'The suit is fitted with multiple electrodes, pressure devices and clamps; there are, of course, integral butt plug and dildo, both fully adjustable, and nipple clamps connected directly to the rings at the tip of the breasts incase the dominant wishes to use a nipple leash. Inside the hood the submissive is completely isolated with ear padding and plugs which also contain miniature speakers to allow her to be fully commanded or humiliated; the remote contains a microphone although there are a number of basic commands programmed in for training. The woman selects a menu and then the word 'Kneel'; the suited girl immediately drops to her knees. The assistant lifts the remote to her lips and says 'Stand up, Slut.' The helpless girl obeys climbing to her toes with practiced ease despite her restraints.

'If she is slow she can be punished by various shocks to the nipples, breasts, labia, clitoris, buttocks, belly, back, thighs...anywhere really or, even, all at once. We'll start with some mild shocks to the nipples.' The assistant sweeps the top of the screen and opens another menu; an outline of the suit appears on the screen in red, the woman expands it to show a detailed view of the breasts and nipples then selects the nipples by touching them on the screen, red lights appear beneath her fingers. Pauline looks at the girl in the suit but nothing appears to happen. 'Perhaps a little more.' The assistant runs her thumb up the edge of the screen and a series of red bars light up. 'This is level 5.' The girl reacts to this, her breathing sharper and quicker through suddenly flaring nostrils. 'Level 6 is, of course, getting into the higher pain range. This is level 8.' More bars light on the screen and the helpless girl responds now taking deep breaths through her nose and biting down on the gag her body tense, her mitted hands pulling uselessly at the strap tethering them to her ankles. The assistant gives it a few moments and then sweeps the bar down to zero. The girl in the suit relaxes.

'Of course, if I didn't stop the safety mechanism would cut the severity back to five after 30 seconds or five minutes at level 5 or below. Would you like to see the pleasure functions ?' Pauline nods and the woman opens another screen with a similar figure on it though this one is green. She expands the pelvis this time, representations of the dual plugs inside the suited girl are clearly visible as are a line of electrodes along her labia and a cluster around her clitoris. The assistant strokes a finger over each of the labia in turn then circles the clitoris; the suited girl's response is almost immediate, her hips moving slightly, legs rocking on the suits toe-boots. The assistant sweeps the level up to 6.

'She's been in that thing all day,' confides the assistant with a sly smile to Pauline and I haven't let her come once. The girl starts panting, rubbing her thighs together and the assistant activates the butt plug, a vague sound of vibration can be heard. The girl's breathing is rapid and ragged through flared nostrils. A red light starts blinking slowly in the corner of the control's screen. 'That's a warning that she's significantly aroused, it blinks faster as she approaches orgasm. I can set the pleasure stimulus to cut out automatically or just control the level myself. The biofeedback can be used to keep the wearer on the edge of orgasm for several hours.' She turns down the settings producing a moan from the helpless gagged girl. 'As well as orgasm denial there are a number of pre-programmed settings; punishment, conditioning and, of course prolonged pleasure for when she's been a really good girl. The settings can be customised to suit particular tastes; most of our clients use a mix of pleasure and pain settings.'

The red light, which has been slowing begins to blink more quickly and both Pauline and the assistant look up to see the suited girl rubbing her crotch with her mitted hands. The assistant changes screen and selects the phrase: 'Stop that you slut !', she then switches to the pain screen and dials up a level seven to the clitoris. The suited girl shrieks through her gag and her hands fall away in front of her.

'Would Madame like to try ?' The assistant offers the tablet to Pauline who looks a little nervous.

The assistant smiles professionally and raises and eyebrow suggestively leaning in to whisper discretely. 'Perhaps Madame would care to try on one of the suits ? We like to offer a full service here at The Livery.' She emphasises the word 'full'.

'No, thank you.' Pauline is aware she sounds less certain than she would like to and looks round for Adele hoping to make her excuses and leave but her guardian is trying on a pair of locking ankle high toe boots with the help of a boot slave dressed in shiny blue patent thigh boots, a tiny matching thong and nipple stars. While looking round, Pauline does, however, spot the pony section; leather clad grooms rather than dominatrixes seem to be patrolling the isles there and she turns to the assistant. 'Actually, I've really come to look for a pony harness.'

The assistant raises a painted eyebrow but otherwise takes the stance of the customer always being right.

'If I can be of any assistance in the future then don't hesitate to call.' She presses a small business card into Pauline's hand. 'As I say, we are here to provide all services to the discerning client.'

'Thank you.' Feeling somewhat awkward, Pauline takes the card and heads towards the pony section.

The blonde carpenter has proved more stoic than Fetish or Lash expected. Despite some brutal persuasion by Fetish she has refused to submit. Naked and bound she hangs by her ankles, her wrists bound behind her, body bruised and, in places, bleeding.

'Well, there's nothing else for it.' Fetish snaps. 'We'll just have to torch the place.'

She pulls a lighter out of her boot and gathers some paper from the desk in the corner of the workshop. 'All this wood. Should burn easily enough.'

'Let me work on her.' Lash says. 'I can make her submit.' She stands by the helpless woman stroking her belly with the whip she carries.'

'No time. We have other errands to run.' Fetish, as usual, takes the lead.

'As La Donna commands.'

Fetish lights the papers and throws them into a box of off-cuts.

The blonde watches, helpless as the flames catch and then begins screaming.

It is at that moment that the glass skylight above them shatters raining shards down on the villainesses.

'Fuck !'

A figure drops through landing in a crouch. A blonde head lifts and blue eyes twinkle.

'Hello, Fetish. Being a naughty girl again ?'

'Boot Girl.'

Boot Girl stands, wearing a smile of self-satisfaction and flicks a stray lock of blonde hair from her face.

'Good entrance, don't you think. Shame there was only a couple of shits like you and Lash to enjoy it.' As she speaks a tongue stud glints in the growing flame.

Lash has been creeping closer, her whip drawn back.

'Forget it Lash, I know you're there. And stop ogling my ass you ragged pixie.' Boot Girl draws herself up to her full height. She is petite, nearly five feet tall in her boots, almost boyish, made more so by short blonde hair; however an exceedingly pert bottom, large blue eyes and full sensuous lips make her femininity obvious as does the tightness of her costume. She wears a black PVC one-piece: micro-shorts emphasising her most pert feature with a blouson that is little more than two strips of material covering her flat chest forming a collar; her eponymous boots are thigh high in black leather with multiple steel buckles with a stacked heel.

'Wanna dance then, girls ?'

Fetish takes a step back glancing nervously at Lash but then lunges forward with a rather unfocussed swing which Boot Girl ducks easily, shoving her opponent back.

'Ow, Fetish. You disappoint me again. If you spent as much time training as you did doing all those perverted things to your slaves you'd be a worthy opponent.' She feints then drives her knee into Fetish's midriff. 'Now, leave the big girls to fight it out.'

As Fetish collapses to her knees, Boot Girl turns to face Lash ducking to the side as the whip narrowly misses her cheek.

'Careful, Babes, don't damage the goods.'

Lash snarls. 'If you spent as much time fighting as you did talking you'd be a worthy opponent.' Her accent is soft though her words are sharp.

Boot Girl smiles and flicks the lock of blonde hair again in a familiar casual gesture though her expression now is much more focussed. She takes a guard and then Lash is on her in a blur of motion, spinning in the air, her bare heel passing so close to Boot Girl's head that it ruffles her hair. Boot Girl punches up from where she has dropped to the floor legs wide in a full split but Lash has tucked and rolled clear. Boot Girl rolls forward scissoring her legs and then spins on her shoulders in an attempt to sweep her opponent but Lash jumps clear landing gracefully to deliver a sharp kick to Boot Girl's ribs as the heroine starts to rise. Boot Girl rolls away and then springs to her feet before dropping into a dive that slams Lash into a stack of planks; the wood scatters and splinters with the impact. The heroine takes advantage of the close contact to deliver elbow and knee strikes but Lash uses both hands to push her back before dropping to one knee apparently winded but then lunges forward, leaving Boot Girl only a moment to jump clear firing her boots as she does to hover for a second as Lash passes underneath.

'Cheat.' Boot Girl looks down to see Fetish back on her feet aiming a tazer at her; she cuts the thrust and drops as the weapon discharges over her head. She lands heavily and feels Lash's whip sting her buttocks.

'Hey, I said not to damage the goods !' Boot Girl rubs her smarting ass glaring at Lash but the villainess is strictly focussed on the combat and manages to snag the whip around Boot Girl's left ankle. Lash pulls attempting to topple her opponent but as she does so Boot Girl lifts her foot and fires up her left boot; the blast knocks Lash back scorching her costume giving Boot Girl time to disentangle her ankle before turning to look for Fetish.

The fire has taken hold now, flames roaring up the wall, smoke escaping from the broken skylight. Fetish is backing towards the exit but fires off another tazer blast and Boot Girl has to dive to one side. As she lands Lash catches her with a kick to the chest that sends her spinning across the sawdust strewn floor. She looks up to find Lash crouching over her, feral and focussed, her strange violet eyes shining with exhilaration. A blow hits Boot Girl's cheek and the heroine's ears ring.

'Lash.' Boot Girl hears Fetish shout. 'Let's get out of here.'

Lash looks up, clearly torn between the need to escape and the lust that makes her want to pound the agonisingly pert blonde's face. She draws back her fist but the sound of a fire siren changes her mind. She lets out a guttural snarl.

'Next time, Boot Girl. !'

Lash stands to leave.

'Yeah, anytime.'

Boot Girl has just enough time to release the blonde carpenter before the fire crews burst in through the doors; as they do so there is a roar and a burst of smoke; Boot Girl leaves the way she entered, via the skylight.

Minx saunters through Debutants, the upmarket department store, hips swaying to the street music that blares from her wristcom so loudly it can easily be heard across the whole floor. Heads turn to glare at the short, slightly stocky girl with her spiked scarlet hair held up by a tartan headband. She wears a studded black leather collar around her throat; a short white fashionably torn T-shirt is stretched over a black lace bra that lifts and displays her firm breasts; around her hips is an ultra short, layered tartan skirt flared over lace underskirts that display her softly rounded buttocks in tight black lace knickers above patterned fishnet stockings; her boots are laced to the knee. She carries a back pack over her shoulder from which the top of a hover board protrudes.

''ello, Darliin'' Minx sidles up to a slim brunette dressed in a tight silk sheath that leaves no room for imagination about the exquisite body beneath or, indeed, underwear. 'Fancy a good time ?'

The girl looks shocked and starts to back away shaking her head slightly.

'Shame.' In a lightening fast move Minx reaches forward and snatches the girl's bag then turns and runs through the store whooping with delight.

In the pony section of The Livery, Pauline is greeted by a leather-clad groom. She is brunette like many of Harmony's citizens though an outdoor life has tanned her skin to a dark brown that is more than would be considered fashionable; she is lean and muscular from physical work with strong features and is wearing a leather bustier and tight leather trousers tucked into knee boots.

'My I help you, Madame ?'

'I'm just browsing really, waiting for my friend.' It sounds better than guardian.

An experienced saleswoman, the groom is not deterred. 'Does Madame have much experience with ponies.'

'A little. I can handle a gig. In fact I won the dressage in my final year at school and came second in the cross country event.' Like most highborn girls who have graduated from finishing school Pauline has learnt the ropes (reins) of pony driving and, like most girls in her situation she also has, of necessity, spent some time between the shafts. What she doesn't tell the groom is that she was, in fact, the pony in both the successful events not the driver. She doesn't mention, either, that she would probably have won the cross country event too if Tara, her driver, hadn't whipped her to such a fast pace in the first few kilometers.

'Perhaps I can show you our latest harness and gig.'

'Yes, thank you.' Recalling her pony experience makes Pauline genuinely interested and she once again feels her body flush slightly, her nipples hardening.

The groom leads her to the rear of the store past a pony in full harness being lead by another groom towards a beautiful chariot clearly aimed at dressage. Unusually, the pony is redhead with the fuller body of a dressage pony; her glossy mane hangs in multiple plaits gayly decorated with coloured bows. The harness the redhead wears is beautiful: black leather with gold studs and rings and Pauline stops briefly to admire it; a heavy posture style collar supports a broad strap front and back that runs to a tightly cinched corset, two straps from the bottom of the corset's front disappear between the girl's legs tapering to single one behind and two more straps, front and back run to thigh cuffs. The redhead's breasts, which are large even for a dressage pony, are bare and are encircled by large gold rings; her nipples are both pierced with solid rings through which the reins from either end of her bit run. The bridle is of the same ornate design as the harness, expensive leather straps studded with gold in the typical configuration of three horizontal bands: bit, bridge (of nose) and forehead/plume, and two verticals at right angles to each other, one blinker strap running up from the collar in front of her ears and the other 'crown' strap running from the back of her neck to the bridge of her nose where it splits to link with the ends of her bit and then buckle under her chin; the bridle is plumed with black and gold feathers. Her arm sheath is also heavy duty with gold buckles to matches the harness and bridle.

The redhead's groom begins to buckle her pony between the shafts of the dressage gig and Pauline reluctantly turns away to follow the original groom to the back of the store where another pony is harnessed between the shafts of a lightweight racing gig.

'Carbon fibre body reinforced by stands of plasteel.' The groom pats the sleek front of the gig which is an electric blue colour. 'Tough, lightweight and very responsive. The wheels are extruded plasteel with a titanium bearing and outer rim. The whole thing, including the shafts, weighs less than 10 kiligrammes.'

Pauline admires the sleek lines of the gig but is aware that her eyes are drawn to the equally sleek pony who stands quietly between the shafts. This girl is a typical racing pony with a lean body and pert breasts, hear shiny black hair gathered into a ponytail. Her harness is not unlike that of the other pony's but it much lighter with a waist strap rather than corset and chest straps rather than breast rings which hold her arms in a 'racing cross' behind her back, wrists between her shoulder blades, an arrangement that allows better access to a pony's hind quarters when driving her with the whip. Her bridle has no plumes and the straps are unadorned though coloured to match the gig.

'Would Madam like to try it ?'

Pauline nods though realises she was thinking as much of trying the harness as the gig.

With support from the groom she climbs up onto the gig which is mounted on a simulator, essentially a treadmill, and sits on the racing seat that is almost a saddle in design tipping the driver forward so her weight is on the balls of her feat and ensuring a racing crouch. Like most racing gigs it would be tiring to drive for a long period though not, of course, as tiring as pulling it.

The groom hands Pauline the reins which run back from the pony girl's nipples and then passes her a light racing whip.

'Has Madam used a simulator before ?'

Pauline smiles and nods. 'Oh, yes.' Though mostly from a different angle.

The groom activates the mechanism and Pauline shakes the reins touching the pony's shoulder lightly with the tip of her whip. The pony starts to walk forward, slowly at first while the treadmill gains momentum. A screen in front of the pony gives the illusion that the gig is moving along a grass track. The wheels roll slickly as if moving over relatively smooth ground. Once she is comfortable with the motion Pauline shakes the reins again and taps the girl on the shoulder twice indicating that she should move to a jog-trot. The girl steps easily to a jog, her long lean muscular legs moving smoothly and her pony tail swishing gently. She gives the girl a few minutes to warm up.

Wonder if she can high step ?

Pauline touches the tip of the whip to the girl's buttock; she responds immediately, adopting a more upright posture and lifting her knees, her technique is perfect, thighs parallel to the ground at the peak of the step.

Oh, you're good. I wonder how long you can keep this up for.

Pauline knows the pace is tiring even though it is the most beautiful to watch; she enjoys the spectacle of the girl's athletic legs rising and falling for nearly a minute before tapping one of her perfect buttocks again indicating she should step out with the trot. The response is immediate and powerful although this is a pace even the most highly trained pony cannot maintain for any more than a few minutes. Three taps on the shoulder takes the girl to a canter, slightly faster but much less effort. Finally she flicks the whip, stinging the girl's back and driving her to the gallop. The response is astonishing, even with the gig tethered the exhilaration of acceleration can be felt for a moment and Pauline is jerked back in her seat while the simulator compensates for the motion.

'Oh, good girl.'

She watches the pony stepping out seemingly effortlessly, mesmerised by the movement until the groom taps her on the arm.

'Don't want to tire the pony.'

Pauline thinks the girl could probably keep this up for some time but pulls in on the reins bringing the girl back through canter to jog and finally walk before stopping her. The girl seems barely out of breath as Pauline climbs down from the gig and pats her gently on the bottom.

'Good girl.' She repeats. She is just about to speak to the groom when Adele comes up carrying a large Livery bag.

'Glad to see you haven't been too bored.'

The groom clearly recognises Adele and bows. 'Madam, an honour.' She turns to Pauline. 'I believe makes you the Princess Pauline ?'

Pauline smiles, blushing slightly, and nods.

'A pleasure, Madam.' The groom bows more deeply than Pauline feels comfortable with. 'I once worked in your mother's stables. If I recall correctly I think I may have given you your first pony lesson.'

'Left to make a career on the pony track.' Adele interjects.

'Successfully, I hope ?'

The groom shrugs.

'I'd say.' Adele adds. 'Unless I'm very much mistaken you've just been driving Star, seven times winner of the Prix des Cheveaux.'

The groom smiles and nods her hand going up to the pony's bridle where she caresses the harnessed brunette's cheek.

Pauline looks again at the sleek girl.

'Come on, let's go.' Adele turns to the groom. "Good to see you again, Sara.'

'A pleasure to be of service Madam.' The groom takes the whip from Pauline and bows then turns back to the pony, her hand moving to tease the harnessed brunette's breast.

Pauline follows Adele back through the store. She notices the 'Angelisch' dominatrix now demonstrating the slave suit to a serious looking woman in a white leather catsuit behind whom stands a leashed slave wearing a red patterned bodystocking. The woman looks very interested but her slave seems rather more cautious.

They pass through the restraint section between two long racks of armbinders in a variety or materials and colours and step around a woman clad from head to foot in black rubber trying one on a pretty young slave whose obvious assets are clearly displayed in a pink latex bra and knickers. The armbinder is in a matching pink rubber as are the knee high toe boots on which the girl balances.

As they emerge from the livery Pauline turns to ask Adele about Sara and Star but is distracted by a commotion coming from the access point to the upper level. She turns to see a girl with scarlet hair apparently flying down one of the escalators scattering shoppers as she goes. Pauline can hear the shrieks of frightened and angry women. The girl reaches the bottom of the escalator and Pauline can see she rides a hover board. Two city troopers standing by the entrance to the mall are running towards her and the girl banks skillfully away from them turning towards Pauline and Adele.

'Minx !' Adele's voice is full of exasperation. 'If there's every been a reason to ban the concept of heroines and villainesses then she is it.'

Minx is rapidly approaching them though the hover board is slowing, losing momentum.

'Stop, City Trooper. Stop or I'll fire.' The troopers are drawing their tazers.

Minx whoops delightedly, ducking as a tazer blast takes out a low-hanging light above her in a shower of sparks. She leaps from the board, kicks up the end and scoops it up in one smooth motion. As she stands she pulls something from inside her bra and throws it towards the troopers. Pauline watches it arc through the air and then drop to the floor. At the last minute she realises what it is and closes her eyes lifting her hands to her ears and turning away.

The concussion grenade explodes in a blinding flash that Pauline can see even through her closed eyelids and then, an instant later she feels the wave of sonic energy. Even though she is near the edge of the concussive radius and has protected herself her ears ring and she staggers slightly.

Pauline opens her eyes to see that the grenade has had its desired effect leaving a crowd of dazed and dazzled bystanders, many of whom have been knocked to the floor, the city troopers included. In an almost dreamlike aftershock she turns to look at Adele but the blonde is shaking her head trying to clear her vision and then, as the ringing in her ears subsides hears Minx laughing maniacally.

'Wankers !' Minx raises her hand in an abusive gesture, palm upturned, fingers spread and cupped then turns to find Pauline standing in front of her.

'Out of my way, Cutie.' She starts to run towards Pauline and, when the brunette doesn't move leaps into the air, the sole of her boot aimed at Pauline's chest. The princess leans to evade the flying kick and then grabs the straps of Minx's backpack pulling her to the floor. Minx punches up, the heel of her palm missing her opponent's jaw but catching the brunette in the shoulder. Pauline staggers back losing her grip and Minx is on her feet in an instant. Pauline rubs her injured shoulder and Minx regards her cautiously.

I don't suppose Madam Bondage is still here.

Pauline wants to look around but knows she must watch her opponent.

As Adele keeps saying, you're not at school now.

'I'd love to stay and chat, Cutie, but I really gotta go.' Minx turns to run but Pauline is after her, diving and catching her legs; they fall together and Minx struggles kicking violently. Pauline clings tightly to the girl's thighs using her body to pin her opponent down.

You really could done that better.

She feels Minx begin to roll and tries to stop her but is using most of her strength to prevent a kick from Minx's heavy boots. She realises she will by pinned down beneath her opponent if she doesn't let go and releases. Both girls spring to their feet, Pauline coming up in a high fighting stance, Minx crouched low.

Minx grins. 'Loser goes down.' She points to her crotch incase Pauline has missed the more obvious meaning and sticks her tongue out suggestively, flicking her tongue stud against her teeth.

'In your dreams, Pixie.'

'Moocher, please !' Minx spits in disgust. 'You from out of town Honey ?'

'Maybe.' Pauline shrugs and Minx lunges.

Pauline drops to the left bringing her knee up into her opponent's ribs before dropping her elbow onto Minx's back between the shoulder blades. Minx drops to one knee and Pauline steps back.

Better !

'Want some more ?'

'No, you win.' Minx sounds defeated and Pauline feels disappointed. 'Help me up.'

For Gaia's sake, can't a girl have a good fight. Perhaps there is no need for heroines of the villainesses are so crap.

She steps forward and Minx lashes out, her reach extended by a short fighting stick which catches Pauline in the belly doubling her over. It is only long hours of training that make Pauline keep her guard up and protect her face from the knee that follows; despite this she is knocked onto to her back by the force of the blow and badly winded. Minx is on her in a moment and she has to roll quickly to cushion the impact of a heavy kick to the ribs; she manages to avoid a second but the third catches her as she tries to regain her feet; she falls again, gasping.

'I own you now, posh bitch.' Minx leers over her.

No !

There is tazer flash and Minx turns to run.

No !

Gulping air, the princess pushes herself to her feet to run after the fleeing girl.

The Moocher has a lead but Pauline is taller and faster and in better shape.

Minx bursts through an emergency door and Pauline follows her, sprinting down a concrete access corridor at the end of which Pauline takes her prey with a flying tackle that sends them crashing though another set of doors; the pair roll, struggling for dominance, Pauline takes an elbow to the ribs and then Minx is on top of her, pinning her arms with her knees. Minx takes a handful of thick dark hair.

'Your choice, Cutie. Lick me and I won't smash your pretty little face up.'

Pauline struggles but she is breathless and Minx has her pinned down effectively.

'Come on, you posh tot. Tongue out.' Minx's left hand is free and fumbles with the clasp of Pauline's bustier which is loosing its valiant struggle to contain her large breasts. 'I certainly want to see these.'

The bustier comes open and Pauline's breasts burst free.

'Mmmmm, lovely nips !' Minx bends and takes the right one in her teeth, flicking it with her tongue stud.

Pauline squirms though not completely with a desire to free herself and feels herself flush.

Gaia, I can't believe how much I wanted her to do that.

'Come on, Cutes, you know you want to.'

How can she ?

Strong hands pull Minx from where she sits on Pauline's chest and Adele helps the princess sit up. Pauline watches as Minx is cuffed first at the wrists and then at the elbows, the villainess is on her knees between two troopers, a third is chaining the prisoner's ankles.

'Hey, this is police brutality. I'll sue your asses.'

One of the troopers pulls a gag from her belt and puts it between Minx's teeth, buckling it behind her head, she then takes a looped chain and slips it over Minx's head pulling it firmly but not tightly around the prisoner's neck. Minx looks at Pauline, her eyes taking in the bare breasts still hanging free of the open bustier. Pauline notices and moves to resecure the garment. Minx winks.

As Minx is lead away one of the troopers begins to question Pauline, asking her to explain what has happened. There is some surprise when Pauline reveals her identity but Adele produces her palace ID and the questions rapidly become minor and routine. Pauline tells her story and then the trooper escorts them back to the mall before taking her leave.

The daytime shoppers are beginning to depart the Mall leaving it to it's night-time occupants: girls heading for its bars, clubs, games rooms and other entertainments. In the arcade Pauline can see several of Minx's gang, the Moochers, and hear girls playing the latest version of Dungeon Bitch.

Now there's a real heroine.

'You are in serious trouble young lady.' Adele tells Pauline at the trooper leaves them alone. 'I think a night in the punishment room will be appropriate or I might just turn you in for brawling and let you spend the day in the pillory right here in the Mall.'

Pauline rubs her right breast and looks up at the steel frame used to punish those who disturb Harmony's peace.

Yes, I suppose I have been a rather bad girl.

Candy and Cherry are waiting outside the gallery for Lady Devonshire when her limosine draws up; the chaufeuse, a tall Angelisch girl in a tight black leather uniform that pinches her already slim waist and emphasises the length of long slender legs opens the door for them and they scramble inside in a mass of giggles and red hair. Both girls are strapped into ornately decorated dress harnesses, broad collars with straps running down their fronts and backs to waist belts, splitting to support thigh cuffs that are reminiscent of suspenders; gold rings circle their breasts which, although part of the harnesses are held in place mostly by the sheer size of the breasts squeezed through them; leather thongs are buckled to the harnesses to provide a shred of modesty. Both girls wear toe boots, locked to their ankles and both have their wrists cuffed behind their backs; a leash is clipped to Candy's right nipple and a short crop to her left, on Cherry's nipples the items hang the other way around; large black rubber ball gags are buckled around their throats.

'Godd sunssetten, Madamm.' The girls speak together as they kneel on the floor of the car.

'Good evening, girls.' Lady Devonshire wears formal Angelisch evening dress in her usual white: a bullet bra in satin so fine that the pink of her nipples is just visible through it, a heavy and ornately stitched leather corset and deep frilled satin knickers; her corset suspends her sheer silk stockings and her boots come to the thigh. A train skirt, literally an ostentatious gathering of fine silk draped from her bustle, is arranged beside her and cascades to the floor of the car. Like most aristocrat Angels Lady Devonshire is a blue eyed blonde, the near whiteness of her hair signifying her high born status and the pale pink of her skin a mark of her refinement. Her only splash of colour is a red flower mounted on her corset. The Ambassadress is a powerful figure, a little over six feet tall without her typical Angelisch toe boots that elevate her to almost seven feet when standing. As the girls settle before her she holds out her dress whip, a multibladed one in white leather with a pearl handle, for the girls to kiss and as the sisters pay their respects the usually stern Angel allows rouged lips curl into a genuine smile.


Part 2: Harmony Nights (added: 2017/04/25)

It is nearly dark when Pauline and Adele leave the mall. Street lights reflect off the gleaming glass and steel of the surrounding buildings. Pauline is driving and unmarked though expensive lightweight hovercar which glides smoothly some 6 inches over the steel road surface. She engages the impulse drive and pulls forward into the traffic. Adele sits beside her fretting.

'Are you sure you don't want me to drive ?'

'I'll be fine. I have passed my test you know.'

'Yes, but you've been away for most of the year. This is a bit different to an Angelisch pony cart.'

Pauline glares across at Adele.

'Like I said, I'm not a child anymore.'

'Watch out !'

A trap in the wrong lane pulls across in front of them, the driver, clearly a city trader in striped blouse, blue shorts (incredibly tight but still 'held up' by red braces that stretch almost obscenely over her large breasts) and expensive leather boots, whipping the blinkered blonde harnessed between the shafts furiously. The blonde pony, sleek and clearly a thoroughbred racer probably unused to city traffic, struggles to maintain her balance, her blades skittering on the slightly wet steel road. The trap cuts into the pony cart lane and Pauline pulls away again.

They crawl through the evening traffic; heavy, slow mag-cars pulling away far less quickly than Pauline is able to, before managing to get down into the underpass where they manage to pick up some speed.

'You should have taken the tunnel.'

Pauline glares at Adele.

'I prefer the bridge.'

The rest of the journey is passed in silence.

'The Donjon' is a fashionable restaurant for society mistresses and their highly pampered slaves; it occupies the top floor of the Tower Hotel and offers one of the best views in the city to all but those unfortunate enough to spend the evening blindfolded, a severe punishment for any 'Slabe' as the press describe the rich's 'Slave Babes'. The food is renowned across Belladonia and the Chef de Maison, Sadia, is highly regarded.

Intimate tables at the restaurant are generally equipped with a single chair, the slave being expected to kneel beside her mistress, usually chained to a ring mounted in the table or set into the floor; such slaves are then fed by their mistress' hand or given bowls on the floor from which they may eat and drink, usually by lapping their meals with their tongues; larger groups are catered for in smaller rooms and here slaves can be more elaborately restrained while they are fed although Sadia always expresses her displeasure if her food is eaten directly off a slaves belly or, indeed, any other part of her anatomy with the exception of her popular chocolate brittle dessert.

The Donjon always welcomes Lady Devonshire and as she enters with Candy and Cherry in tow the Maitress D' bows a gracious welcome and escorts her personally to her window table. Candy and Cherry kneel dutifully and are duly fastened to the table by their right and left nipples respectively.

Lady Devonshire orders a bottle of sparkling Linden (the '73) and pours a little into the girls' bowls which they bend over to lap up.

'I've never asked, are you completely identical ?'

'No, Mistress.' Candy giggles and looks meaningfully at her sister.

'I've always been fascinated by twins.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Both girls begin to giggle and Lady Devonshire lets the matter drop ceding to the notion that it is the effect of the Linden their empty stomachs.

Boot Girl lands on the roof of her apartment block in Harmony's unfashionable East Side. It is a run down part of the city teaming with cheap apartments and the down at heel citizens of Harmony but at least still sustaining life unlike the empty warehouses of the docks. It is dark and some two hours after her fight with Lash and Fetish. The air is chill. From the roof she can just see the dull gleam of the Teese as it runs up towards the more fashionable parts of Harmony, the upcoming Old Artists once called the VIIth district and the lively waterfront with it glitzy cafes and galleries.

She glances round and, not for the first time this evening has the distinct impression she is being watched though she sees nobody and so climbs quickly down the external fire escape to the window of her 29th floor apartment whence she peers around again and then ducks in through her open window.

Master is waiting patiently for his dinner, the little grey cat rubs himself ingratiatingly around Boot Girl's ankles as she strips off her costume. Once naked the heroine picks him up and carries him through into the tiny kitchen.

'Lights.'

The light level rises and she takes a sachet of food from the cupboard, emptying it into Master's feeding bowl.

'Good day ! Got to kick Fetish's scrawny ass though that Lash is a bit of a hard case.' She twists trying to look at the whip-mark on her buttocks. 'She'd better not have done any permanent damage. What will Geri say ?'

She looks up at the wall clock.

'Shit.'

Fifteen minutes later, still worrying about the bruise on her pert bottom, Hannah Pink is running down the stairs from her tiny 29th floor apartment in a silver minidress and matching knickers carrying her heels.

Back in Lady Devonshire's official residence near the Angelisch Embassy, the first task of the harnessed twins is to unbuckle the leather thongs that complete each of the harnesses they wear. They help each other using their teeth, taking obvious delight in the task and going well beyond what is strictly required of them. However, a few well aims blows of the Angel's dress whip bring them literally to heel and they commence the task of undressing the statuesque blonde dominant with whom they have just dined.

With their hands still cuffed behind them the twins are forced to unlace the Angel's boots with their teeth and tongues, a task accomplished with much giggling and driven where needed by the occasional blow from the whip to the kneeling girls' breasts or buttocks. Still harnessed, Candy and Cherry complete their work with a little indulgent worshipping of the dominant's eight inch heels using their tongues until a sharp blows from the dominant's whip bring them to kneel obediently before her.

With her boots unlaced the Angel steps out of them in her stockinged feet and the submissives proceed to unhook her suspenders with surprising ease, stripping the seamed silk from her legs with their mouths.

An argument follows over Lady Devonshire's corset; both girls want to unlace it and the matter is settled by a game of fetch using the Angel's dress whip; Cherry wins and Candy takes her punishment, six blows to the breasts, but complains the decision is unfair and ends up gagged with her cuffed wrists chained to her ankles; then has to watch, pouting, as Cherry carries out the much contested task. With the corset removed and Candy gagged Cherry has the pleasure of removing Lady Devonshire's knickers which she does with obvious relish casting the frilled white satin aside with a show of triumph; the Angel's bra, however, proves more of a problem and, despite her obvious oral skills Cherry cannot undo it with just her mouth and tongue, something that brings a smile to Candy's gagged lips though she notes jealously that Cherry spends considerable effort nuzzling between the Angel's formidable breasts in the attempt. Eventually, Lady Devonshire reaches up and unhooks the garment herself leaving herself naked and, in the eyes of the twins, utterly desirable. She dispenses six strokes to Cherry's breasts for her failure and then commands the pair to bed.

Cherry leaps enthusiastically onto the huge four poster while her sister, still gagged and condemned to kneel, crawls sullenly to obey; Lady Devonshire joins them, lying between the lascivious pair.

Conscious of Candy's misery the Angel turns to her first, kissing the helpless redhead around her ball gag, an act the submissive returns as best she can and with clear delight, pressing her harnessed body wantonly against statuesque Angel. With Candy pacified, Lady Devonshire turns to Cherry and engages her with a long deep kiss that is warmly and lustily returned. While they kiss, Candy, once again excited, rubs her large and stiffly erect nipples against the dominant's back. Finally the Angel pulls Cherry's mouth from her own and guides it towards her breasts while reaching round to tease Candy between the legs; the submissive's pussy is warm and very wet and as the blonde's fingers begin to probe and tease the gagged girl moans with pleasure drawing a plaintive cry from Cherry who is clearly doing most of the work when it comes to pleasing the dominatrix.

Needing, once again to take control, Lady Devonshire slips a fist into Cherry's thick hair and pulls the girl's suckling mouth from her nipple.

'If I may remind both of you that I have given neither of you permission to come and the first of you that does will spend the night in a punishment tie listening to her sister and me writhe is pleasure. Is that understood ?'

'Yes, Mistress.' The girls reply in unison though in Cherry's case it comes out as '.e. .i...e...'

With the twins suitably chastened Lady Devonshire relaxes a little more allowing Cherry to suckle her breasts and then move slowly down her belly to slip her head between the Angel's thighs where she begins diligently probing the blonde's pussy with her tongue. Candy continues to rub her body against the dominant's back and nuzzle her neck as effectively as her gag will allow.

Lady Devonshire is a true Angelisch aristocrat and her self control is legendary even for one of that class but all to soon, under the unbridled attention of the twins she can feel her own climax building. As he pleasure increases she once again uses her fist in Cherry's lush red hair to guide the submissive's tongue to the dominant's favourite and most sensitive spots. Sensing the Angels' lust, Candy moans behind her and withes with pleasure as the blonde slides her other hand between the helpless submissive's thighs again.

After a level of teasing that would have had both twins enjoying multiple orgasms, Lady Devonshire allows her own climax coming strongly and clamping Cherry's head between her powerful thighs; though even in this state she is aware of Candy fighting obediently, if not entirely successfully, to prevent her own climax.

Pauline has been confined to the punishment room to contemplate what Adele has termed her reckless actions. She sits crossed-legged on the hard wooden floor restrained in a bolero style leather straight jacket that keeps her arms wrapped around her body beneath her large firm breasts; a half face leather muzzle holds a small ball gag in her mouth which is not large enough to make her drool but adequate to impede any meaningful speech; a leather blindfold covers her eyes, this has a cut away for her nose making it difficult to dislodge though she knows from experience that if she did manage to remove it Adele would only escalate her punishment; a leather strap around her crossed ankles completes her bondage and her governess has added a pair of strong nipple clamps to increase the punishment.

For the princess even the several hours she will spend like this is not a particularly harsh punishment and, being kept like this gives her a chance to reflect on her actions as she has been instructed though she knows she is probably not doing this in the way Adele would like. She still experiences a thrill every time she thinks of the chase with Minx and their fight in the Mall; she thinks of Boot Girl and the stories she grew up with about the exploits of Princess, the Blonde Avenger and the other Harmony Heroines.

She also recalls the way she was pinned down by Minx at the end of the fight and knows the pleasure she feels about this is overtly sexual; her current bondage simply reminding her of the helplessness she felt while pinned down and the nipple clamps making her think of Minx's teeth.

She squirms a little on the floor but the bondage limits her ability to increase and satisfy the arousal that is building inside her; the crotch strap of her straight jacket is narrow and functional and the hard floor provides little pleasureable stimulation; she is aware too that Adele will almost certainly be watching her on the punishment room's monitor and so any significant writhing to tease her now quite wet sex will result in stricter bondage or possibly even a period in chastity restraints. Thus aside from the occasional wriggle that could be seen as simply easing the pressure on her bottom she sits calmly replaying the scene in her head, the chase the capture, what might have happened if she hadn't been rescued...

Lady Devonshire has come four times and her twin submissives are both aroused almost to the point of disobedience; she is very aware of the girls rubbing their thighs together and moaning pitifully as they continue to provide the dominatrix with pleasure while striving to withhold their own.

'Want to come girls ?'

'.e. .i..e.. !'

'Yes Mistress !'

'..ea.e !'

'Please !'

'Very well. I've thought of one more little game for us to play.'

'You won't be too cruel will you, Mistress ? We both really need to come.'

'Not too cruel but you wouldn't be nearly so diligent if I gave you what you wanted without making things just a little uncomfortable would you.' The dominant's voice is stern and, in her post climactic state betrays her Angelisch roots. 'Besides, one of you has already been rather naughty.'

'Candy !'

'.o..y, .i...e..' Candy clearly is sorry.

'Time for a game then.' Even Lady Devonshire can struggle at times to keep this pair submissives in line.

'Yes, Mistress.' Cherry's voice is husky and filled with lust. 'Mistress, if I may say, I think Candy has been gagged for long enough.'

'Do you think so ? And I suppose you're going to tell me it's your turn ? Perhaps you're thinking that if Candy is still cuffed and gagged she won't be able to do very much for you ?'

'Not really, Mistress. We're pretty good at pleasing each other no matter how strictly we're restrained.'

'I bet you are.' Lady Devonshire can't help smiling at the thought. 'Crawl to the whipping mat, both of you.'

The twins obey, kneeling to face each other. They are a delightful sight, both panting with lust, their voluptuous bodies still harnessed and their wrists cuffed behind their backs. Candy still tightly gagged and loosely hogtied. Their freckled skins glow with arousal and glisten with a sheen of sweat in the soft lights of the room and their masses of coppery red hair are wildly tousled; their scents fill the air.

Lady Devonshire enjoys the sight for a moment before removing Candy's gag and freeing her wrists though the submissive continues to kneel obediently with her hands behind her back and, somewhat miraculously, manages to keep her mouth shut too.

'Candy, I want you to lie on your back.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Candy's voice is unsteady after removal of the gag; though her shoulders are stiff she moves to obey instantly, lying on her back with her legs open, brazenly displaying her body.

'Cherry, put your knees on either side of her head.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Cherry smiles and crawls into position.

The dominatrix's plan is becoming clear to the twins and their excitement is obvious.

'And if either of you does anything before I say you can I will gag you both which, despite your obvious talents will, I'm sure, restrict a lot of your fun.

'Yes, Mistress.' The girls chorus together.

Candy is now lying with her head between her kneeling sister's legs so that all she has to do is lift her head and she will be able to apply her tongue to the girl's drooling sex; Lady Devonshire then cuffs Candy's wrists to the thigh cuffs of Cherry's harness; then the Angel free's Cherry's wrists and tells her to bend forward before cuffing the kneeling girl's wrists to the thigh cuffs of Candy's harness. Cherry now kneels on all fours, placing her head above Candy's hips and causing her hair to hang down between the supine girl's spread legs.

'Your hair is tickling my puss, Sis.' Candy giggles lifting her legs and wriggling.

'Silence.' Lady Devonshire strikes Candy hard on her exposed bottom with the discipline whip that is kept in a sheath beside the mat but the girl is too busy looking up at Cherry's swollen wet pussy to register.

'I'm sure I don't need to tell you what comes next.'

'Both of us, Mistress.'

Lady Devonshire rolls her eyes at Candy's comment.

'For that I'm going to add one little rule. First girl to come gets a sound whipping.'

'Ow, Mistress. That's not fair.' It is Candy speaking again.

'I don't recall asking you if it was fair, slave.'

'Sorry, Mistress.' Both girl's respond in chorus.

'I've a good mind to gag you again so you come first and you're the one I get to whip.'

'Sis, shhh ! If you're gagged I get a lot less fun.'

'Oh, yes !' Candy giggles. 'I'm sorry, Mistress. You're game sounds a lot more fun. I promise not to speak again.'

'Good girl.' Lady Devonshire stands and strikes Cherry hard on her bottom with the discipline whip before commanding Candy to lift her legs so she can take the whip too. Both have the sense not to answer back.

'Begin !'

It is, not surprisingly, Candy who comes first, shuddering and crying out in ecstasy, arching her body on the floor and thrashing her head from side to side as she clamps her thighs tightly around Cherry's head nearly pulling her over. Lady Devonshire smiles at Cherry whose face is coated in her sister's juices and gently brushes the tangled mass of red hair to one side with her whip.

Once she has calmed down Candy lifts her head recommences work on her sister, bringing Cherry to climax quickly. Cherry's climax is much quieter than Candy's, she kneels with her back arched and head up, breathing heavily and then gives a series of tiny gasps as the orgasm takes hold of her.

'So there is a difference between you.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Cherry is the first to answer, her voice husky and unsteady after her recent climax. 'I'm the quite one.'

Lady Devonshire strokes Cherry's back with the whip.

'Rather than unstrapping you I think we'll do another couple of rounds. And just for fun I might clamp your nipples together to stop you thrashing about quite so much. What do you think ? Best of three ? I must say I'm thoroughly enjoying watching you and by the time you've both come twice more I'll be ready for Cherry to give me a good tongue lashing while Candy gets another sort of lashing.'

'That's not fair, Mistress.'

Lady Devonshire ignores her.

'You know, I'd love to take you both home with me but if we did this in Angeland we'd probably all be arrested.'

Lady de Renee, Queen of Bellania, Contesse of Harmony, Emperess of Belladonia is, like most high born Bellanians, tall and slim with long straight dark hair, dark eyes and high cheekbones. This evening she is dressed, as usual, in a black leather catsuit which emphasises her slim form and large breasts and high heeled patent thigh boots which delightfully enhance her long slim legs.

'Your report ?' Contesse de Renee's voice is commanding.

Adele sighs.

'Not good, Mistress.' They are alone in the operations room of the palace and Adele opts for the familiar form of address. The movement of the Contesse's head and arch of her brow shows the choice is not lost on her.

'Am I going to need my whip tonight ?'

'Probably Mistress.' Adele kneels before her ruler, lover and dominant. Her statuesque form packaged neatly into a tan leather bodice that adds a gentle curve to her waist and displays her formidable breasts; her powerful shoulders are bare as are her thighs above her knee boots; around her throat is a steel collar, a slightly old fashioned affectation in modern Harmony, displaying her pledge of slavery to her mistress; the key to her collar hangs on a chain between the Contesse's breasts. Adele's blonde hair hangs in slats. She is not Harmony born but has the blue eyes and straw coloured hair of a countryborn girl.

'Very well, proceed.'

'The cat-burgler is active again. Stole Christine Cartier's sapphires. Left the girl bound to a coffee table in her underwear with a vibrator in her knickers. We still don't know who she is other than a brunette dressed in old-fashioned blue Angelisch style clothes. Comes and goes via the windows of forty floor apartment blocks and somehow our camera's haven't spotted her.'

'I sometimes wonder what I pay my police for.'

Adele pauses waiting for her mistress to say more but when she doesn't Adele continues. 'Lash and Fetish are running an extortion racket in the lower east side.' Adele pauses again. 'They torched a carpenter's workshop...'

'And ?' Contesse de Renee knows when her lover is hiding something from her.

'Boot Girl was involved.' Adele sags slightly.

'Can nobody rid me of this meddling vigilante ?' The Contesse is suddenly angry as the news touches a raw nerve.

'Your police are trying, Mistress.'

'Not very hard as far as I can see.'

'The...vigilante, Boot Girl,...does have a degree of popular support.' Adele weighs her words carefully. 'Some elements of which appear to be within the troopers' own lines.'

'Perhaps if I flogged a district captain for each day she wasn't caught I could persuade them to be a little more loyal.'

'It might have the desired effect, Mistress.'

'Or perhaps I should just punish you.' The Contesse glares are her kneeling slave who simply keeps her head down waiting for her Mistress' anger to dissipate.

'May I continue ?'

'Yes, anything good to tell me ?'

'Two more missing girls, no leads, its as if they just vanished.'

'Southern slavers ?'

'Possibly.' Adele resigns herself to a night of punishment. 'We're still getting rumours that there is some sort of organisation behind these crimes at the moment. Our agents have mentioned a 'Donna'.'

'A southern gangland boss ?'

'It is certainly one interpretation of the reports.'

'Ok. I take it you are talking to your informers.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Can any of them get you Boot Girl ?'

'I could go myself.'

'No, I need you, Adele.' The Contesse's voice softens. 'Anything else ? Anything positive, for example.'

'I did pick up that package from The Livery.' Adele grins.

'Well, thank Gaia for small mercies. You'd better go and put it on.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Adele rises deftly, bows and turns towards the door.

Contesse de Renee watches her slave go enjoying the sway of her large taut buttocks.

Jezebel slips in through the open window.

People can be so careless.

The apartment is thirty two floors up, comfortable but not luxurious, wooden floors, elegant furniture, some tasteful abstract art but not originals.

She hears a sound, a small cry, perhaps of pain.

I do hope there isn't some sort of struggle going on.

The sound comes again and she creeps silently to a door that must lead to the bedroom. Gently she eases the door open.

The girl is naked and hangs spreadeagle from a steel frame, her wrists and ankles locked in steel cuffs, she is gagged with a large blue ball gag that fills her mouth and there is a high neck corset locked around her throat; electrodes are clipped to her small pert breasts, clustered around her nipples, and wires run to a control box on a low table beside her; more wires run from between her spread legs; her nipples are clamped and a short pony whip hangs from the chain between them. The girl is a redhead, pretty as far as Jezebel can see considering the gag, and the obvious pain the girl is enduring causing her to bite down hard upon it; her blue eyes are wide open, unfocussed, the girl's freckled skin is flushed with arousal and covered with a sheen of sweat; her musk fills the room.

Whatever punishment the redhead is enduring appears to stop and the girl relaxes in her bonds; her eyes regain focus and she sees Jezebel. The villainess watches as the girl starts to writhe in her bonds.

'I hope you're not disappointed.' Jezebel saunters towards the helpless girl who is struggling in vain to free herself. 'Although...magnetic cuffs...the tablet controller...I mean you might be waiting for someone but it looks like this is all self induced.' A smile curls Jezebel's blue coloured lips. 'Which means there's nobody to interrupt us.'

The girl shouts defiance through her gag.

'Oh, I'm sure I won't inflict anything on you that's worse than you were planning for yourself.' She picks up the tablet and swipes her hand over the surface examining the screen carefully to ensure she reads it correctly. 'Level 7. I'm impressed.' Jezebel changes screen. 'Four hours ! Why that would take you to 2am. There'll be bags under those pretty little eyes tomorrow.' She changes screen again. '...but I can see why you do it, I really can, that pleasure programme, long and slow, you must be ready to beg and you won't be coming for at least another two hours...and all that pain to endure first. You certainly are submissive aren't you ?'

She looks back up as the helpless redhead.

'Want to try some real pain, say level 8 for the next few hours, perhaps a burst of 9 ?' The girl's eyes widen in fear. 'This is an older unit. I reckon I could over-ride the safety settings and have you writhing in agony until morning. You might not enjoy it at the time but I'm sure you'd thank me afterwards.' Jezebel smiles. 'So what do you say ? A burst of level 8 ?'

The girl shakes her head fearfully as best she can in the high neck corset.

Of course with my colour-blindness I might give you a night of unimaginable pleasure by mistake.

Jezebel puts the tablet down and turns to face the girl. 'You know you really are a cute little thing. I can't understand the need to do this to yourself, I'd have thought there would be dozens of dominants banging on your door to, well, bang you I suppose or beat you or do pretty much anything you ask them to.' She reaches out and runs her finger across the girl's bare abdomen, the skin is warm and damp, there is a pool of sweat in the girl's navel. 'Oh, firm, I bet you work out.' The finger traces down towards the neat triangle of pubic hair. Helpless in the neck corset the girl cannot see what the villainess is doing, only feel her touch, she squirms and cries out into her gag as Jezebels finger slips between her spread legs.

'You really are a horny little thing aren't you.' Jezebel picks up the whip and unclips it from the chain. 'Of course, if you wanted to be beaten you could always go and do something naughty in the Mall; I don't know, drop some litter or make too much noise. The laws in this city really are too strict.' She holds the whip up for the girl to see. 'Nice touch by the way, very...symbolic.'

Suddenly the girl stiffens and bites down on her gag and Jezebel hears the small noise that first alerted her to the girl's presence. The screen of the tablet is flashing a '7', though to Jezebel it looks a mid grey she can just tell it is the pain setting even without the redhead's cries though it appears only just slightly lighter than the green.

Jezebel reaches up and, very carefully touches the girl's right nipple which is swollen and dusky from the tight clamp, the girl whimpers and then gives another cry, this one lower and less intense. Jezebel looks down to see a green '4'. The soft buzz of a vibrator is coming from between the girl's legs.

'Oh, you lucky girl.' She puts her hand to the girls belly as the screen changes to a green (light grey) '5'; a timer bar shows there is minute left on the pleasure setting and thirty seconds more of pain at level 3.

'I'll tell you what. Let's turn this off shall we and have some fun the old fashioned way.'

Jezebel bends down and pauses the programme then she steps round behind the girl.

'Oh, cute butt by the way, though I expect you get that all the time.' She strokes the girl's bottom with the whip. 'Of course, I'd prefer you bent over for this, ideally across my knee; I'm really quite an old fashioned girl at heart; but then if I did that you might struggle and I'd have to subdue you. It wouldn't be very dignified and we'd lose that 'Mistress/Slave' magic I'm so enjoying.'

She brings the whip down hard on the girls buttocks. Thwack ! The girl exhales and bites down on her gag.

'There. So much more satisfying than electro-torture. Don't you agree ?'

She pauses for a reply. 'Well, if you're going to be rude I really am going to have to punish you.'

She strikes the girl's bare buttocks six more times.

'You know in Angeland, they make their submissives count the strokes. I've always liked that. Count for me.'

Thwack.

'Count !'

Thwack.

'I told you to count, Slave.' Jezebel's voice resonates with dominance.

'O.e !'

'Good girl.'

Thwack.

'..o.

Thwack.

'...ee.'

'Oh, good girl. This is so much more fun isn't it ?'

Above her the girl's head nods a fraction and Jezebel smiles.

'Two dozen would be a good target don't you think ?'

The girl nods again.

Thwack.

'.ou.'

Adele is dressed in her new harness, multiple broad black leather straps encircle her muscular torso and powerful limbs all held together by a network of thinner connecting leather thongs; all the main straps are heavy duty, wire inlaid and fitted with reinforced D-rings to allow secure bondage in almost any conceivable position, there are also straps buckled tightly around the base of each of her large breasts and weighted clamps on each of her big nipples. She also wears the locking toe boots she has bought from the Livery and kneels with her Mistress' favourite crop in her mouth awaiting the pleasure of the Contesse.

She has showered before strapping herself into the harness and this preparation has helped her relax and even begin to look forward to the punishment she is about to receive. She shifts slightly on her knees and as she does so a drop of saliva runs off her lips and lands on one of her heavy breasts. Part of her longs to wipe it away but she has cuffed her wrists behind her back and must now await her mistress' pleasure, furthermore she knows this evidence of her helplessness will excite her mistress.

As the door opens she looks up, watching her mistress enter the apartment they share at the top of the palace. The Contesse pushes the door shut behind her and leans against it, smiling.

'Just the two of us.'

Adele nods aware that more saliva is dribbling on to her breasts.

Lady de Renee saunters towards her kneeling slave, her hips swaying in an exaggerated manner, and releases her hair from its tight pony tail before running her fingers through it.

'The harness looks good on you.'

Adele nods again, though she keeps her head bowed she can see her Mistress' leather-clad body if not her face.

The Contesse crouches in front of her kneeling slave, spreading her legs, the leather of her catsuit creaking slightly, then reaches out with her right hand to take a fistful of Adele's hair; with her left hand she strokes one of Adele's large breasts frowning as her fingers trace saliva across the skin.

'You know, I don't think the breast straps are tight enough, do you ?'

Adele looks into her Mistress' dark eyes and shakes her head a fraction.

'I'm so glad we agree.' Lady de Renee releases Adele's hair and proceeds to adjust the strap around the slave's right breast taking it two notches tighter then she lifts the breast kneading it gently and making the nipple weight swing. 'Much better, don't you agree ?'

Adele looks once more into her Mistress' eyes and nods in a gesture that is utterly submissive. The Contesse tightens the strap around her slave's left breast.

'Much better.' Lady de Renee's voice is almost a purr. 'Time for some fun.' She stands and turns her back on her slave, running her hands through her hair once again before leaving it to hang loose and slightly tousled over the back of the shiny black catsuit. The tight leather displays her slim waist and her firm buttocks which she sways enticingly as she sachees away on her six inch heels. Adele follows her Mistress with her eyes as the Contesse walks to a drinks stand and pours herself a glass of red wine. As the Contesse lifts the glass to her ruby lips she turns slightly so Adele can see her smile.

'Heel !'

Despite her bondage, Adele crawls towards her Mistress, the whip still in her mouth and the heavy clamps swinging on the nipples of her tightly bound breasts.

'There doesn't seem as much here as I expected.'

'We've had some unwelcome interference.'

La Donna frowns. 'Boot Girl ?'

Fetish smiles awkwardly and Lash looks decidedly uncomfortable. 'We managed to deal with her.'

'So I see !' La Donna raises a perfectly pencilled eyebrow as she takes in the bruise on Lash's cheek and scorch-marks on her costume; there is an indecent tear in Fetish's rubber dress that exposes her right nipple with its four piercings. In contrast, La Donna is, as always immaculately coiffed and painted; chestnut brown hair and smouldering dark eyes slightly angular, rimmed by thick dark lashes; her cheekbones are prominent, her face triangular tapering to a small jaw, she is dressed as usual in a southern fighting harness, this one richly jeweled, broad crossed bands of leather that display her exquisitely honed body with its full breasts, slim waist and long shapely legs; fastened to the harness is a full length cage skirt; beautifully tailored black strap boots complete her outfit. La Donna likes to play the warrior princess of her Donian ancestors and, although, she has Lash and Fetish to do her fighting, she moves with the fluid grace and confidence of a capable fighter.

La Donna is accompanied by her slave, Anastasia, who kneels obediently behind her; wrists cuffed behind her back, lifted between her shoulderblades in a posture that displays her huge breasts to their full; the girl is completely naked other than a black isolation hood; the end of her breast leash is looped around La Donna's wrist. The girl's skin is deeply tanned and oiled making it glisten in the harsh lights above them. La Donna typically presents her in this way when in Harmony; Anastasia is a southern slave, a true chattel, owned, in contrast to northern slaves who typically pledge their submission; her presentation as a leashed, naked and hooded object conveys a barbarism that has a tendency to make Bellanians nervous.

They are meeting in an old warehouse in the Docks on the east side of the Teese that Lash and Fetish are using as the base for their illegal operations. The docklands area is now largely deserted except where it fronts the Teese and is home to vagrants, squatters, gangs (largely the Devils though, frequently contested by the Goths from the VIIIth, and the Greens from the southern part of the city) and, of course, villainesses.

'So I can assume that tomorrow evening's mission will be completed as planned ?'

'Yes, La Donna.' It is Lash who responds. 'It will not be a problem.'

'It had better not.' La Donna gives a sharp jerk on her slave's leash and the girl rises. 'Put the money in the flyer when Jezebel returns.'

'La Donna, about Boot Girl...'

'Don't concern yourself, Lash. She is hardly the most competent of heroines. Part of the plan is to create a little...anxiety, shall we say, 'discord in Harmony'. Boot Girl's incompetence may give the good citizens of Harmony even more cause for alarm than reassurance and while she is still active she also provides a distraction for the Contesse's confidante, that astonishingly irritating Adele. If Boot Girl does ever become vaguely capable we will have to deal with her. I expect you'll rather enjoy that.'

Lash smiles. 'Yes, La Donna.'

'Until tomorrow.' La Donna pauses. 'And, whatever you do, don't let Jezebel pilot the flyer tomorrow.'

'No, La Donna.'

'Come, my sweet.' La Donna leads her helpless slave towards the door. 'Perhaps the gangs will show themselves to be a little more successful.' She strides through the small access door in the large gates and climbs into an expensive car drawing her slave after her and pulling the girl across her lap.

The redhead's bottom is red and warm when Jezebel has finished whipping her. The villainess strokes it with the whip then steps round in front of the helpless girl.

'At this point I think it's traditional to thank your Mistress for punishing you. In your case I'd have thought you'd be particularly grateful.

'..a.. .ou, .i...e...'

'Well, that will have to do. Ideally you'd be on your knees and very willing to use your tongue to express just have grateful you are.' She picks up the nipple chain and gently pulls it. The girl arches forward in her bonds. Her arousal is clear from the flush of her skin and the look in her eyes.

'You know I can just see you following me obediently as I lead you towards the bed.'

The girl nods.

'Oh, good girl. I've been so distracted I nearly forgot what I came here for.'

Jezebel turns away from the helpless girl and makes a show of looking around the room. Among the discarded clothes and unused bondage gear on the bed is an identity badge. Jezebel studies it.

'Dr Tamzin Betts !' She turns towards the redhead. 'The Tamzin Betts ?'

The girl looks anxious.

'Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to steal this and break into your lab. Tempting but even with a wig I don't think I'd pass for you. You'll have biometric scanning there, perhaps voice recognition, even with you helpless and in chains, forced to do my bidding, I doubt I could get in. And, believe me, I'm very good at getting into places.' She shrugs. 'I'm a great fan of your work you know.'

Tamzin is watching her intently.

'Look, I'm not an industrial spy or anything. Jewels ! That's my thing. Shiny, sparkly, you know... Sapphires, particularly. Anyway, I was heading for the penthouse, saw your window open, thought I'd, you know, pop in. Couldn't resist it.' As she speaks Jezebel is looking on shelves, rifling books and papers and flicking through drawers. 'I don't suppose clone scientists buy many big shiny jewels.' She completes the search of Tamzin's room. 'So, here I am and...there you are, all helpless and horny. Pity I have to leave. I have to say it's been a pleasure.'

She picks up the tablet that controls Tamzin's bondage.

'Now, I do need a bit of time to get away...and you, you'll be wanting a bit more stimulation. I'm pretty sure you haven't come yet and it would be a shame for all my efforts to be wasted. So...' She flicks across the screens. 'Four more hours; sorry, but you are going to be a very tired girl in the morning; plenty of pleasure; no more than level 3 pain, well, perhaps a few shots of 4-5 just to keep you on your toes or whatever the metaphor is when you're hanging by your wrists.' She looks up to find Tamzin looking down at her. 'Don't want to spoil all the surprise.' She steps in closer to the helpless girl who, because of the neck corset cannot bend her head to look down.

'That should do it.' Satisfied with her programme, Jezebel activates the routine and Tamzin arches in her bonds, a drawing a long calming breath in through her nostrils.

'Thought you'd like it.'

Tamzin gives a small cry and Jezebel smiles.

'It's been a pleasure, Dr Betts. Though more for me than for you I would imagine.' Jezebel shrugs. 'But then you are a sub, quite a masochistic one, if I'm not mistaken.'

Jezebel slips from the room and before she closes the door behind her looks back at the helpless redhead; the girl's eyes are screwed tightly shut and she is whimpering behind her gag.'

I'm sure that 5 was green.

Jezebel carries out a brief search of the apartment but finds nothing. Ten minutes later she climbs agily out of the window and continues the climb to the penthouse.

Adele stirs in her bonds aware that her mistress is no longer in the bed beside her. The new harness has proved a very effective restraint, holding her securely despite the intense teasing and torment she has endured through the night from her demanding and extremely strict mistress. Her breasts, sore from a series of whippings, throb from the tight straps still buckled around them although her nipples are finally free of clamps. She lies on her back, her arms folded behind her and locked in place, legs bent at the knee; her shoulders are stiff and she longs to straighten her legs. She no longer wears the boots, her mistress having removed them after a little obedience training on the nipple leash to whip the soles of her slave's bare feet.

'Finally awake ?'

Adele open her eyes and looks up at the Contesse, silhouetted against the sunlight streaming in through the huge window of the penthouse apartment at the top on the palace. Lady de Renee is dressed in a diaphenous silk gown, a rectangle of fine raw silk that hangs from bangles on her arms, crosses and twists behind her back and drapes over her full breasts at the front, hanging to her upper thighs.

'For the ball tonight. What do you think ?'

The Contesse extends her arms and pirouettes; against the sunlight the garment is almost transparent hiding none of her deliciously firm body.

Adele nods approvingly, her huge ball gag preventing her from speaking.

'I'm so glad you like it.' The Contesse walks to her slave and smiles down at her stroking one of the helpless woman's breasts before bending to unbuckle the gag. Adele looks up at her mistress; the Contesse is nearly eighty and tiny signs of aging show around her eyes and mouth in strong light. This morning, as usual, her face is immaculately made up making her appear as young and, to Adele's mind as beautiful as the day they first met. Despite the night of passion Adele feels a stirring in her loins that takes away all the stiffness and ache in her body.

'I hope Mistress is planning to wear some sort of underwear with that. I don't think it can hold off the whole of the southern delegation if they decide to try to enslave you at once.'

The Contesse smiles raising a painted eyebrow. 'It's good to know you have my safety in mind.' She leans closer and Adele can clearly see the large dark nipples of her mistress' full breasts outlined against the silk. 'Actually, I was just trying it on...' She smiles again, her voice teasing. '...for your benefit as much as mine.'

'Very flattering, I'm sure, Mistress, but don't we have a meeting to get to ?'

'Oh, Adele. You're too serious sometimes.'

'The southern trade cartel. Lady Simone.'

'Oh, them. They're going to be late. Coming at eleven.'

'The Angelisch ambassador ?'

'Cancelled. Officially unwell, 'in dispose' as the Angels like to translate it, though I'm reliably informed she left the Donjon last night in to company of twin redheads and, knowing Lady Devonshire, she's probably still entertaining them.'

'Which means...' Adele is silenced by a slim finger pressed against her lips.

'Which means we have an hour for breakfast or, more accurately, fifteen minutes for breakfast and forty five for me to make the most of your complete helplessness.'

'I do have to release Lady Pauline at some stage.'

'I'm sure you'll fit it in at some point during the morning. You said yourself she had been very naughty. A few more hours of punishment won't do her any harm.'

'I think there is a ten minute window at two, Mistress.'

'If you've quite finished, Adele, shall we proceed ? I mean I could gag you to shut you up but I really don't want to.' Contesse de Renee lifts the hem of her dress and climbs up to straddle the helpless woman. As she lowers herself over Adele's open mouth the slave can taste that her mistress is already wet.


Part 3 (added: 2017/05/20)

'Late again, Hannah.'

'Sorry, Madam.' Boot Girl, in the guise of Hannah Pink bows as she enters the practice hall. She is still flushed from the usual run from her flat after waking late for practice. A dozen students kneel in a line before Madam van Aardt, teacher of the Angelisch martial art of Empty Hand. Like most Angels, Madam van Aardt is blonde with piercing blue eyes. She wears a tight black lycra sports bra and matching briefs, around her waist is a soft padded corset; as is typical the kneeling students wear white. Though and exponent of the Angelisch art, Madam has dispensed with the boots commonly worn in Angelisch combat, a common adaptation in Belladonia.

'Better give me fifty on the bar to warm up.'

Hannah puts down her bag and walks to the overhead bar, she jumps catching it easily, beginning her fifty pull ups as Madam calls out one of the students. The girl, a lithe brunette and clearly Bellanian, springs to her feet and, at Madam's command launches a flurry of blows at her teacher. Madam deflects the blows easily and, when she is ready, steps to the side sweeping the student's legs from beneath her. She demonstrates the move more slowly and then the students pair up to practice.

'Distracted as usual ?' Madam van Aardt's Belladonian is thickly accented.

'I'm sorry, Madam.' Hannah has finished her punishment and is pulling off her sweat top to reveal a black training outfit like her teachers.

'If you weren't the best student I'd had since I came here fifty years ago I'd throw you out of my class.'

Hannah blushes.

'You must have had others.'

'Second guard !'

Hannah adopts the required posture.

'Kingfisher !'

Hannah stretches forward ready to strike.

'Lady Simone.' Contesse de Renee nods acknowledging her vassal's presence as the southern ruler curtsies to the required level. 'I do hope you are finding the hospitality of the city to your taste. I only wish you would stay at the palace.'

'Your Majesty is too kind but as she knows well I have other business here in Harmony beyond state business and find the commercial district far more convenient.'

'Of course.' Lady de Renee nods in acknowledgement, her smile a mask on her face. 'Shall we.' She gestures towards the table where Adele and three women of Lady Simone's court stand ready to do business.

Lady Simone bows and pulls on her slave's leash. The big breasted slave, naked and hooded, follows her mistress obediently on her breast leash kneeling, at the tap of the whip to her right breast, behind her Mistress' chair.

The other delegates sit and Adele looks at the clock; beneath a long robe she still wears the harness and her breasts are still tightly bound. Before bringing her here, her mistress has clamped her slave's nipples in sprung steel hoops so that when viewed through the robe simply make the slave's nipples look erect. The robe is rough and simply woven so that it torments the clamped nipples and chafes mercilessly as Adele moves. She is also forced to sit on a large tapered butt plug that forces itself inside her as her weight it applied to it. She hopes the meeting will last no more than a few hours.

'Jezebel.'

'Boot Girl !' Jezebel looks up.

'A little early to be up here isn't it ?' Boot Girl sweeps her blonde lock of hair away. 'I thought thieves like you preferred to skulk around in the dark.

'Oh, you know how it is. There are always rich women in need of my services.'

'I'm surprised you don't melt in the sun. Perhaps I could offer you a lift down to the Trooper's office. I'm sure they have a nice cool cell.'

Jezebel smiles. 'I have my own transport.'

'You know, it's so much easier if you can fly.'

'I'm sure it is but some of us are a little set in our ways.'

Boot Girl and Jezebel are forty three stories up on the south side of Linden Towers the exclusive apartment block in Harmony's West Side district and several blocks uptown from Tamzin's modest apartment. Jezebel hangs easily from a stone ledge while Boot Girl hovers on her eponymous jet boots. The sun is high, in the blue early afternoon sky reflecting off the multiple windows and steel of the towers around in a dazzling display.

'Look BG, I'd love to stay and chat but surely a pretty young thing like you should be catnapping ready for a night's partying, not prowling the city skyline.' Jezebel begins to climb towards her flyer waiting on the roof seven stories up.

'I'm not really much of a party girl.' Boot Girl powers up gently keeping pace.

'That's not what I hear.'

Boot Girl smiles, her face all big blue eyes and cute dimples under her short blonde crop with it's loose fringe. 'Well, perhaps I party a little. I was just curious to know what you're doing up here.'

'Oh, you know, the exercise, the view.'

'What's in the bag ?'

'A lady always carries a bag.'

'I don't.'

'Like I said...'

'Not many ladies I know spend their time swinging from apartment blocks like monkeys.'

'I could suggest that you'd be more in a position to know than I but your probably wouldn't believe the explanation. Anyway, your analogy is wrong, monkeys have tails.'

'So tell me what's in the bag, tell me where you stole them from and where you've left the previous owner and maybe I won't kick your ass.'

'You know BG I really can't remember.' Jezebel stops climbing and looks down. 'She was definitely a blonde which should narrow it down, and pretty rich too.' Jezebel shrugs. 'Of course you'd have to be rich to live here, this apartment block I mean. If you go down a few floors and hover about a bit you'll probably spot her; she's the one tied to a chaise-lounge.'

'And if I do that you'll climb up to your little flyer and disappear.'

'But at least you won't get your pert little ass kicked.' Jezebel begins to climb again, slowly.

'You reckon you could take me ?'

'BG, I know I could take you. I could take two of you with both hands tied behind my back.'

'How about I cuff you and we try it ?'

'Look, spare yourself a beating and go and hassle some other poor villainess that's more your size. I hear Lash is around somewhere.'

Boot Girl frowns and Jezebel starts to climb again, finally the villainess swings up onto the roof of the tower.

'You'd better come down, BG.'

'And why's that ? Decided to fight.'

'No. I'd like to make some flippant comment but actually it's because it sounds to me that your boots are almost out of fuel.'

'Wha...' The jet on Boot Girl's right boot sputters and she pitches violently over. 'Fuck.'

Jezebel reaches out and grabs the blonde's flailing wrist as the heroine's left boot misfires and she plummets only to be saved by Jezebel's grip. Jezebel pulls her up onto the roof with apparent ease and a show of strength that is not lost on the petite blonde.

'So, you gonna run me in, BG ?'

'I might let you off this time.' Boot Girl shrugs feigning calm though her heart is pounding. 'Though you could return the diamonds.'

'Sapphires, BG. The blue ones. Sapphires.' Jezebel gestures to her clothes. 'Blue !'

'Whatever.'

'So BG, it's been lovely but I have to be somewhere. You have a pretty long walk home, unless you have a couple of fuel cells hidden in your knickers. Which I can quite clearly see you don't. So I'm just going to go over to my flyer and...well, fly off.'

Boot Girl's shoulder's sag. 'Oh just fuck off.'

Jezebel smiles. 'Do you want a lift ?'

'Fuck off !'

Boot Girl in her normal guise of Hannah Pink bends forward and grasps the pole to which she is chained by the left ankle; the move lifts the tiny ruff stitched to the back of her silver knickers and exposes the delicious curve of her ultra cute butt to the women standing around the podium on which she is dancing. She swings around the pole drawing the chain with her and drops into splits in front of a blonde city trader; the woman, Carol, a regular in Geri's club, pulls Hannah's skimpy top, little more than a bra with a ruff on the front to match that behind her knickers, away from her chest and stuffs a twenty Krona note down it, tweaking one of Hannah's nipples in the process. Hannah frowns but doesn't pull away and wraps her thighs around the woman's waist nuzzling herself against the hugely enhanced cleavage that is wantonly displayed by the plunging neckline of the trader's blue stripy blouse, she feels the woman's nipples, as enhanced as her breasts, harden and leans back drawing the red braces of the tight shorts with turn-ups that complete any trader's outfit before letting them go. The woman jumps in surprise as the braces snap against her breasts spilling her drink but grins when her colleagues laugh and clap her on the back.

Hannah rolls away and catches the eye of a cute girl at the end of the podium; the girl appears Angelisch but with hair that is closely cropped and, presumably, dyed black; she wears a short worksuit in blue cotton, an all-in-one short and blouse combination with cap-sleeves that is commonly worn by artisans and labourers in Harmony; this evening the garment is unbuttoned to the navel giving an enticing view of her small pert breasts; the girls' skin is lightly tanned, presumably from some time spent in Belladonia; unusually she has a nasal piercing; when Hannah catches her eye the girl winks.

Cute !

Hannah swings around the pole again deliberately entangling herself in the chain and pausing in what Geri call's her 'Gwen' pose before untwisting; when she is free she lifts her right leg to the pole and then using her knee spins around it hanging by her legs. She doesn't think the Angelisch girl will tip but wants to reach her for other reasons so dances down the platform towards her strutting and flicking her hips in time to the music; Hannah wears knee high toe boots, silver like her costume, which exaggerate the movements of her hips; as she passes another group of traders she feels another note tucked in the front of her knickers and turns smiling and dropping to her knees, the woman, clearly drunk, licks her lips and Hannah drops back arching her hips up towards the woman's face; she feels a hand brush her sex and sits up quickly closing her legs and waggling her finger at the drunk trader who leers back but keeps her hands to herself and Hannah nuzzles the woman's breasts.

As Hannah crawls away from the now smiling trader another note is pushed onto the back of her knickers, this is followed by a playful slap and Hannah turns to see a group of young highborn Bellanian girls who are obviously on a night out; she shakes her head in time to the music and allows another couple of slaps before jumping to her feet and rolling to land in front of the Angel, her ankle chain now at full stretch; the girl only smiles and Hannah rolls her eyes before dropping over to lie face down on the podium; more money is pushed into her knickers and she endures another half dozen slaps to her bottom before coming up to her knees and giving the Angel one last look; the girl smiles but makes no further effort.

Shame, she really is cute ! Love those green eyes.

Hannah dances back up the podium and reengages with the pole, kneeling before it and writhing before dropping back; a trader slips more money into her bra, deliberately rubbing her nipples. It is near the end of Hannah's routine and she arches up allowing the woman a little longer before kneeling up and wrapping herself in the chain again.

She is about to finish when she finds the dark haired Angel standing in front of her; the girl reaches forward and tucks some paper into Hannah's boot that is obviously not money. Hannah grins and climbs to her feet dancing her way to the end of the podium where Geri, the club's owner, stands watching.

'Late again, I see Hannah.' Geri is waiting for Hannah as the dancer finishes her set and slides off the podium to much applause; the corners of notes protruded from her bra and knickers. Geri holds out her hand and Hannah.

'Can't I keep some of it ?'

'You know the rules, twenty five percent to you, seventy five to the house.'

'Ow, Gerri, you know I'm the best you've got. Thirty-seventy ?'

'You get your boobs done and I'll think about it.'

Hannah scowls. 'I like my chest just like it is. Big tits aren't everything you know.'

Geri rubs her thumb and fingers together and Hannah shrugs beginning to remove her tips from her costume.

'And the one in your boot.'

'That's not money.'

'We have paying customers, Hannah ! You dance for them !'

'She's cute.' Hannah smiles showing the best dimples she can.

'In your own time, then.'

'Promise.'

'Vicky did your first slot so you'll have to do her last one at two.'

'Yes, Ma'am.' Hannah lifts her foot and Geri produces the key to the ankle chain.

'Thanks.'

'Welcome. One more thing, your admirer wants half an hour.' Geri counts the money as she talks.

Hannah's spirits lift. 'The black haired Angel ?'

'You should be so lucky. Anyway, she's probably Sylphic.' Geri nods toward the group of traders. 'No, you're with Carol.'

Hannah rolls her eyes. 'You're kiddin' me ?'

'Five minutes. You know where.' Geri hands Hannah her share of the tips.

Back in the dressing room Hannah pulls the folded paper from her boot; it contains a comm number and the name 'Beth.' She traces her fingers over the letters mouthing them as she tries to say the unfamiliar name.

'Bettha.' She retrieves her comm and is about to call when Carmen comes in. Carmen is another of the club's dancers, a typical Bellanian brunette; she is tall and slim and has large breasts which are currently restrained, though barely, in the black leather harness in which she typically dances. Carmen exudes dominance from the studded leather choker she wears to the thigh boots complete with whip stuffed down one side.

'Hey, Hannah. You ok ?'

'Sure. You ?'

'Yeah.'

'Say, Car, can you do me a favour ?'

'What ?'

'Slot at two.'

'Hey, that's way beyond. You're gonna owe me big time.'

Hannah smiles, batting her eyelids. What would you want of me, Mistress ?'

'Don't get cute blondie. Friday, all of my shift, and don't screw up, my name's on the sheet.'

'You could use it as an excuse to punish me.'

'You gonna pay me ?'

'Friday it is. Promise.'

'Yeah, heard that one before. I get your tips for tonight too.'

Hannah pouts but hands over her share of the tips from her dance.

'Call it insurance incase you don't show Friday.'

Pauline has been aware of Madam Bondage's gaze following her since her arrival at the Ball and during the inevitable introductions, fawning and small talk; the princess has been longing to speak with her again. She has run over the encounter with the heroine in her mind a number of times attempting to understand the difficult feelings the statuesque northerner arouses in her.

'Lady Devonshire.' Her mother introduces the Angelisch ambassadress, accompanied this evening by one of her pets. The pet is an exquisite Sylph, dark haired and green eyed, from a small province of Angeland bordering the great Atalan Ocean and once an independent kingdom; she tall and slim with small neat breasts the nipples of which are linked by a gold rod joining their piercings; a gold ring pierces her nose; the girl is utterly naked aside from her gold collar; her wrists are cuffed behind her with gold cuffs and she follows her mistress obediently on the end of a clit leash carrying her mistress' whip between her teeth.

'Your Ladyship.' Pauline nods to the level required.

'An exquisite dress, if I may be so bold, My Lady. I think I detect a hint of the Angelisch style which is currently popular here, I notice.' The ambassadress speaks Bellanian perfectly unlike many of her fellow Angel's who employ the clipped tones typical of their own language and rely on their schoolgirl Belladonian.

'Thank you.' Pauline nods again. She wears a silver white gown that consists of a stiff cutaway bodice that cups her ample breasts, displaying her cleavage in way that made Adele frown when she tried it on, the bodice nips her slender waist and is cut high exposing the tops of her thighs, a form of train skirt passes between her legs before cascading behind her; a matching bolero jacket, worn at the insistence of Adele, wraps around her shoulders; sandals with 5 inch heels complete her outfit. 'May I complement you on the exquisite beauty of your pet.'

The ambassadress smiles and gives the girls leash a slight tug pulling her in closer.

'I understood you customarily brought two when attending such occasions, twins I believe.'

'Sisters actually, this is Liz and her sister is Beth. I've let Beth off the leash tonight so I dare say she'll be getting herself tangled up in something she shouldn't.'

It Pauline's turn to smile.

The dungeon is one of a number of themed rooms in Geri's club and Hannah kneels among the frames and pillories in front of Carol. Hannah still wears her skimpy silver costume but not her boots.

'So, Hannah, do you know why you are here ?'

Because you're paying me ! Hannah fights down the urge to say what she is thinking.

'I've been a bad girl, Mistress.'

'And what happens to bad girls ?'

They get laid ?

'Er, they get punished, Mistress.'

'Clever girl.' Carol flicks the bladed whip she is holding into her palm and Hannah smiles at the way she jumps when it stings her hands.

Cleverer than you.

'So, how shall I punish you tonight ?'

You're the Mistress, you decide.

'I'm going to punish you severely so I'm going to have to tie you very tightly.'

Oh, I don't care, just get it over with. Hannah has endured the same dialogue several times.

'I'm going to start with a whipping...'

And then nipple clamps...

'And then nipple clamps...'

Don't you have any imagination, girl ?

'But first I want you naked.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Hannah strips off the skimpy top and wriggles out of the knickers while remaining on her knees.

I mean it's not as if she's unattractive and those boots are gorgeous. Given the right stimulation I could worship her all night.

'I think we'll use the horse.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Hannah crawls to the padded horse and bends over it.

Just don't mark the goods, darling.

Carol snaps the cuffs on to Hannah's wrists and ankles.

'Seeing you like that is really turning me on.'

I wish it was doing the same for me.

'I'm really going to enjoy punishing you.'

It really doesn't sound like it.

'My Lady.' Lady Bishop bows with deference that is, if anything, more than required. She is dressed in her usual purple costume with its straps and buckles, her only concession to the occasion the replacement of Madam Bondage's cowl and short cloak with a long heavy robe trimmed with the white fur of the ice bear.

'Madam.' Pauline bows. 'I see you are alone this evening. You chose not to bring your luscious slave ?'

Luscious ! Where did that come from ?

Lady Bishop's lips curl into a slight smile as Pauline feels a blush rising in her face. 'Hazel is always rather unsettled here in Harmony. As a result of her behavior I have had to ground her.' The smile tightens again. 'Temporarily suspend her...from duties that is.'

A vision of the luscious bodied slave hanging by her wrists beside Madam Bondage's cowl in her rooms in the palace pops into Pauline's mind and is immediately followed by a strange desire to be there in her place.

'Then perhaps you will permit me to attend upon you, Madam. May I bring you a drink.'

'You are too kind, my Lady. Do you have a Kagan red ? A '71 perhaps ?'

Pauline smiles, bows and turns towards the bar. She is aware of Madam Bondage's eyes following her and ensures her hips sway enticingly.

She returns moments later with the wine. 'I hope a '75 will suffice.'

Lady Bishop nods her gratitude. 'And may I enquire what my Lady plans to do with herself now she has completed her studies ?'

'I really haven't decided on anything specific yet. I feel sure I must catch up on what has been happening here in Belladonia while I have been in Angeland and spend some time beginning to learn something about the ways of government.'

'I am sure your mother and Mistress Adele will be more than capable teachers. I hope you plan to understand something of Belladonia's provinces too.'

Pauline is slightly taken aback. 'Forgive me, Madam, I meant no offense. I would be honoured to accept your earlier invitation to visit you, particularly if it would improve my understanding of your lands.'

'My Lady is most gracious.' Lady Bishop bows again.

There is a moment's silence.

'And what of the Academy ? How fairs Mistress di Grassi ?'

'You know Mistress di Grassi ?'

'I studied the Angelisch style under her while a student at Brideshead. She had just taken over the role from Madam van Aardt.'

'You attended the Academy ?'

'Indeed, though it is rather more years ago than I care to recall.'

There is another moment's silence as Pauline takes in this information.'

'Perhaps you would care for a bout tomorrow morning.' There is a thrilling challenge in Lady Bishop's eyes.

Pauline cannot suppress a smile. 'Of course, Madam.'

'Shall we say o-ten-hundred in the palace gymnasium ?'

'Certainly, Madam.'

At that moment Adele appears.

'My Lady, Madam.' She bows to Lady Bishop and takes Pauline's arm. 'If you will excuse us Madam, the Lady Pauline's mother wishes to introduce her to the Donian delegation.'

'Until tomorrow, Madam.' Madam Bondage smiles and bows then says rather more quietly. 'It would be impolite keep La Donna waiting.'

Hannah feels Beth come hard, jerking in her bonds as she climaxes. Her new lover with her multiple piercings is tied to the bed in Hannah's flat with silk scarfs, a pair of Hannah's knickers in her mouth stifle her cries. Any disappointment the blonde may have felt at finding the girl was submissive has been offset by her cute looks, firm body and very capable tongue that is pierced like her own.

Hannah looks briefly at the clock and signs inwardly.

'Sorry, lover. Got to fly.'

Beth's eyes show disappointment.

'Back later if you can stick around.'

Beth nods.

'Good girl.' She climbs off the helpless girl and picks up a silk scarf from the floor, bends and ties it around Beth's head covering her eyes and then crosses it between her teeth as a gag, securing the knickers in place. With Beth now blindfolded and gagged Hannah retrieves her Boot Girl outfit from the wardrobe and slips it on checking her silhouette in the mirror.

Gaia I look good !

When she is dressed Hannah cannot resist another play with Beth's pierced and very responsive nipples before a parting kiss to the girl's nose just above her nasal ring, then she slips through the window of her flat and leaps from the balcony.

It is dark and the commercial district is quiet, deserted glass facades reflecting each other in the harsh glow of yellow sodium globes. A distant siren wails somewhere across the river, back on the East Side and Boot Girl smiles thinking of the helpless girl tied to her bed in her apartment.

The heroine watches from the ledge high above the street as Lash and Fetish approach the Western Bank. They pause at the top of the steps and Fetish touches her ear, her mouth moving as she speaks into a tiny microphone. The movement is enough to make Boot Girl look up scanning the irregular skyline of tall buildings anxiously, she remains convinced she is being followed but she cannot see anyone.

She looks back in time to see Fetish swipe a card though the security scanner and the door pop open in front of her.

Fetish and Lash glance round and slip inside.

Boot Girl waits for a moment, looks round again and, seeing nothing, leaps from the building.

Fetish looks down at the security guard lying unconscious at her feet. The villainess shakes her hand.

'I think I've broken something.'

'If you put as much effort into training as you do into perving you wouldn't have these problems.' Lash's voice carries irritation at her partner's apparent incompetence; the barefooted villainess is focussed, crouched over the other unconscious guard, alert, every sense heightened to detect further threats.

'She must be wearing body armour or something.' Fetish crouches over the fallen girl and rips her blouse open smiling to herself at what is revealed.

'Kinky.' The guard is wearing a chastity bra, steel cups over her large breasts, chains locking it in place behind her back and neck. Fetish lifts the girl's short skirt and finds a matching chastity belt.

'Just get on with it.' The tension in Lash's voice cuts the air and she throws Fetish a roll of tape.

'A pleasure.' Fetish appears, suddenly, to forget her injury and licks her thin lips in anticipation of the bondage to follow. She undoes the guard's skirt, pulling it down and off and then rolls her over onto her back to pull off the torn remains of her blouse; finally the villainess unzips the girl's brown leather boots and removes her stockings; she then strips the other guard noticing a tattoo of a gloved hand holding a whip just above her right breast, a common symbol used by dominants.

'Do you think...I mean...the two of them ?'

Lash rolls her eyes. 'Fetish, I don't care if they are fucking. Just tie them up.'

'And you say I'm kinky.'

'Fetish !' Lash stands, menacingly and Fetish hastily begins to bind the first guard's arms behind her back, taping first the wrists and then the elbows, then she crosses the girl's legs and tapes her ankles, knees and thighs together. She repeats the process with the second guard.

'And don't forget to gag them.'

'Be a pleasure.'

Fetish picks up the second guard's knickers and stuffs them into the mouth of the first one, the girl in the chastity restraints; she then tears off a strip of tape and sticks it over the helpless girl's mouth, before applying a second and a third piece, finally she closes the girl's eyes and tapes them shut.

'Care to lend me yours ?'

'What ?' Lash pulls a disgusted face realising Fetish's meaning. 'Use your own.'

'I'm not wearing any !'

'Just tape her mouth shut.'

Fetish shrugs and proceeds to gag and blindfold the other guard.

Boot Girl can see Lash and Fetish ahead of her. Their trail has been easy to follow strewn as it is by naked, bound and gagged security guards. With her back pressed to the wall in a small alcove she watches the villainesses.

'Ok, Jez. We're at the vault and the device is in place.' Fetish touches her comm again.

There is a loud click.

'Oh, that lanky bitch is good.' Fetish rubs her hands together and nods to Lash who steps forward to pull on the giant steel door which swings open freely. Beyond is a pile of banknotes that comes up to Lash's waist. The villainesses step inside and Boot Girl smiles.

The sensible thing would be to push the door shut behind them and call for help - from a safe distance.

Boot Girl creeps forward.

The really sensible thing to do would be to have called the police from outside.

She is just reaching for the vault door when she notices a movement to her right. She looks up to see a security camera tracking her.

No. The totally sensible thing to do would be to have called them from my apartment like the good citizen I am and carried on fucking my little dark Angel.

Suddenly there is a cry from beyond the door.

'Lash ! Outside...'

Lash appears in front of her.

'Bit late to be making a deposit isn't it ?' Boot Girl can't help grinning.

'Actually, we're making a withdrawal.' Lash lunges for the heroine and the pert blonde barely evades, backing up and parrying furiously until she is stopped by a marble pillar. She ducks to avoid a blow to the head and catches a kick to the ribs which sends her sprawling. As Lash advances she knows she can't regain her feet in time and fires her boots so the villainess is forced to back away; the jets drive Boot Girl back across the highly polished floor towards the open door of the vault.

Lash snarls following. 'My Mistress is not happy because of you.'

'I can't help that.' Boot Girl flips to her feet and advances cautiously on Lash.

The villainess is more wary now and Boot Girl presses her advantage, the pair trade blows finishing with a close grapple. Boot Girl can feel her opponent's strength and knows she must break free then suddenly is overwhelmed by a surge of agony from the back of her head. She reels back, stunned and Lash grabs her.

'I could have defeated her alone.' Boot Girl's ears are ringing but she thinks it is Lash who is speaking. It is certainly Lash who is holding her by the throat. She grips her opponent's arm to steady herself but is pushed back onto the vault dimly aware that Fetish is holding a sack of coins that she must have used to hit the heroine. Lash throws Boot Girl sprawling over the pile of notes and springs after her.

Pressed against the wall of the vault in among a pile of strong boxes Boot Girl cannot move quickly and all she can do is fire he boots like before but this time Lash is almost on top of her and she knows she will burn the villainess badly; a small part of her won't let that happen. She tries to kick but Lash evades and kicks her in the thigh deadening her muscles and then again a little further up the leg. Boot Girl tries to rise but her head is throbbing, her thigh is burning and she can barely breath. She knows she has to move and fires her boots; flames then sparks burst into the air.

'Gok,tar ek !' Lash is shouting and no longer kicking her.

There is a wailing sound and Boot Girl feels rain, something that she can't understand in her dazed state.

'Go, Lash. Jez says we go. Bitch has tripped the fire alarm.'

As her senses clear Boot Girl can see Lash is looming above her, the villainess' hair and skin are wet. The expression on her face conveys barely controllable rage.

'Lash.' Fetish places a hand on her shoulder and Lash turns snarling. 'We go, now !'

The clarity of Fetish's voice seems to pierce Lash's anger and she follows.

'Fuck !'

Boot Girl sits up. The sprinkler is raining down on the pile of notes and splashing her in a way that irritates but at least revives her. Unsteadily she climbs to her feet breathing deeply; the room is still filled with smoke and fragments of smoldering Krona bills float in the air. She coughs and staggers through the door of the vault following the villainesses back towards the upper floors.

Out of the vault the air is cooler and clearer and Boot Girl comes more fully to her senses. As she runs up the stairs she begins to collect her thoughts knowing she must get out of the bank before the fire crews and troopers arrive.

As she enters the bank's atrium she realises she is too late.

There is a police bike outside, it's lights flashing like blue beacons beyond the glass. A trooper is just entering the open door and drawing her tazer.

'Police Trooper. Stop or I will open fire.'

Hannah raises her hands.

'Boot Girl !' The trooper is a pretty brunette with full lips, round cheeks and a small chin that all that suggest a southern, Donan, rather than northern, Bellanian, heritage; she is a little taller than the heroine. She has a neat, toned body, firm breasts constrained in a leather vest beneath her blouse and trim thighs outlined by her skin tight leather breeches. In the semi light Boot Girl can see her badge proclaiming her 'Trooper Pepper'.

'What...?' The girl is clearly confused. 'But...' She lowers the tazer.

'Lash and Fetish ?' Boot Girl talks quickly.

'You really are cute !'

'What ?' Boot Girl turns slightly looking towards the door.

'I mean I've seen your picture but...' The trooper leans to look round behind the heroine. 'And that butt !'

'Look are you going to arrest me ?'

'Can I ?' Trooper Pepper grins inanely. 'I mean, not that I want to but if you're into that sort of stuff we can go back to my place and play cops and robbers.'

Okay.

Boot Girl's lips curl into a killer smile that brings the full force of her dimples to bear. 'Pep. I can call you Pep can I ?'

'Honey you can call me anything you want to ?'

'Pep, I'm kinda busy right now. Chasing...you know...villainesses.'

'Oh, ok, right. I mean that's great.' She grins again. 'Can I help ?'

'I'm guessing there's going to be quite a few of your colleagues here soon and, well, I'm really not good at police red tape. So...'

'Yes ?'

'Do you mind if I go ?' Boot Girl smiles again but Trooper Pepper's face falls. 'I mean you're really cute too and...'

'Me, cute ? You really think so ?' Trooper Pepper brushes a stray strand of chestnut brown hair from her face and smiles awkwardly.

'Yes, I really mean it. Pretty face, pert body... I'm guessing you work out... On another occasion maybe the two of us could...well...but for now I really need to go.' Boot Girl glances towards the street.

'Yes, great. I'll look you up some time.' Pep is starting to grasp Boot Girl's needs. 'Go. Do you really think I'm cute ?'

'Yes and, er, thanks.' Boot Girl moves to step past her but Trooper Pepper bars her way.

'Er... It's just I can't let you escape. You know just...go !'

'Look, Pep...'

The trooper thinks for a moment. 'You'll have to knock me down.'

'Oh, I really couldn't.'

'Yes, go on. Hit me. Knock me down. You can cuff me of you want to.' She smiles showing dimples that almost match Hannah's. 'I'd quite like that. I'm quite submissive you know. Gaia, I bet you're really dominant.' She reaches out and runs a leather gloved hand down Boot Girl's bare arm. 'Perhaps you could take me hostage...'

'Pep...!'

'Sorry...I mean...it would look really bad if I just let you go. You'll have to hit me or something.'

'I couldn't.'

'No, it's fine. Like I said, I'm a sub. I enjoy pain.' The inane grin is back. 'Gaia, you must be so dominant.'

A fire truck pulls up outside.

Shit.

Boot Girl punches Pepper in the face and the trooper sprawls backward.

'Sorry.' Boot Girl shouts over her shoulder as she runs out of the door.

Behind her Trooper Pepper rubs her bruised cheek and smiles broadly. Cute or what !

Jezebel climbs down the outside a smart apartment block in the West Side. Still above the thirty third floor she can just see dawn creeping across the mountains far to the east of Harmony though the streets below and the river are still cloaked in darkness. She has decided on a little cat-burglary to distract her from the debacle at the bank. A pretty blonde lies securely trussed with cable ties, a large gag filling her mouth and a vibrator filling her pussy, fourteen floors above her. Jezebel has wired the fire alarm in the blonde's apartment to trigger at midday, an event that will be at once something of a shock and, no doubt, a relief for the helpless girl.

In spite of her senses all suggesting the contrary, the villainess pauses and looks across the intervening blocks to see that the window of what can only be Tamzin's apartment is once again open.

Some people never learn.

Jezebel smiles and continues her descent thinking how little consequence even her actions make in this world. The blonde above is still rich, thought currently less so than she was some thirty minutes ago and Jezebel is correspondingly somewhat richer. The blonde's taste was, to Jezebel's disappointment, for diamonds more than sapphires and somehow this makes the villainess decide she needs something to console herself.

She is sure she can see Tamzin sitting on the sofa in her apartment.

Fifteen minutes later Jezebel peers into Tamzin's living room. The pert redhead is clearly dozing but looks up as she senses the villainess' presence. She is naked, sitting curled on the leather sofa, legs crossed, arms around her knees.

'Hello again.'

'Hello.'

There is a few moment's silence.

'I was just passing. Thought I'd pop my head in so to speak.'

'Most people use the stairs and knock.'

'Well, you know. I thought you might be, oh I don't know, a bit tied up. Not really in a position to answer the door.'

'Are you going to come in ?'

Jezebel peers inside. The room is dark but she cannot sense any danger. 'Maybe. Have you been waiting for me ?'

'I thought you'd come.'

'Oh, that old thing about returning to the scene of the crime. I didn't steal anything by the way.'

'You took certain liberties !'

'Nothing that wasn't consensual between two mature adults.'

'You weren't the one in bondage.'

'I don't recall you complaining.'

'I was gagged.'

'You thanked me.'

'You told me I had to.'

Jezebel grins and eases herself through the open window. The high power tazer hits her as her foot touches a sensor positioned on the floor. She is unconscious before she can react.

It is dawn as Boot Girl lands on the top of Linden towers, the scene of her almost fight with Jezebel. Once again she feels she is being watched and has varied her route trying to draw out her stalker. A brief glimpse from the corner of her eye tells her the woman is tall and broad, definitely not a typical Harmony girl.

A siren wails below her and she sees a police bike chasing a convertible along Weathers Avenue past one of the city's most popular gymnasiums. Smiling to herself Boot Girl dives down to follow the action.

Jezebel opens her eyes. She is spreadeagle, hanging by her wrists and ankles just like Tamzin was when she first saw her. Her corset and knickers have been removed as have her gloves and boots but she is still wearing her stockings. The neck corset supports her head though with her longer neck it is not quite as stringent a restraint on her as it is on Tamzin.

'Planning on getting your own back. I'm not really the submissive type you know.'

Tamzin is standing in front of her holding the short pony whip. She is still naked and, Jezebel is reminded, quite beautiful, her red hair glowing like the dawn sun framing her pale freckled face with its eyes of azure blue.

Poetry ! I'm getting old.

'What about the brand on your thigh ?'

'Oh, that.' Jezebel shrugs as best she can in her bonds. 'Yes, I was a slave a long time ago. Quite enjoyed it at the time but, you know, there's only so much submission a woman can take. Those boots all start to taste the same after a while.'

'You escaped ?' Tamzin looks suspicious.

'More moved on.'

'And became a thief !'

'That's a little judgemental.' Jezebel looks at her captress cooly.

'You broke into my apartment...'

'Actually I entered. The window was open.'

Tamzin raises the whip.

'Ok, lets compromise on 'entered uninvited' but then look what you do to your invited guests.' Jezebel looks up at her cuffed hands and then at the whip Tamzin is holding. 'Are you going to use that ?'

'Depends.' Tamzin strokes the tip of the whip down Jezebel's belly. Though the villainess' body is athletic, her belly toned and taut even without the corset, Jezebel's skin is scarred, puckered in places from countless wounds. 'I want to know who you are and I want to know why you entered my apartment.'

'Jezebel, Lieutenant Colonel, 6534892710.' Jezebel looks forward over Tamzin's head. 'And, like you say, I entered your apartment because I'm a thief and your window was open. You'll get nothing else from me !'

'Don't play games.' Tamzin raises her voice.

'Like the kinky little one we're playing now ?'

'We don't have lieutenant colonels in Belladonia.'

'Have you been south recently ?'

Tamzin looks up sharply.

'You know there's always unrest.' Jezebel grins, pulling gently on her bonds. 'Lady Ashley might have conquered Donia and united us in the happy state of Belladonia but I'm not sure Lady Simone is playing by those rules anymore and as for the current Lady de Renee...'

'So you're a southern spy come to stir up unrest in Harmony ? Perhaps I could turn you in for sedition.'

'Well.' Jezebel smiles down at her captor. 'If I'm honest I did fight for the south in that one. I still live there by the way.'

'The war was three centuries ago.' Tamzin raises the whip.

'I've been around. Youth serums have changed over the years. I must have got a good batch.'

Tamzin stokes the rough skin thoughtfully with her fingertips.

'Really ?'

'I am seven hundred and forty three, or is it four. You know I'm not sure.'

'Are you really telling me you fought in the War ?'

'Several actually.'

'Were you always on the losing side ?' Tamzin looks hard at her.

'No, but after I...well...the ones I chose were always the right side.'

'Interesting.'

'Most people find I am, though most of them don't do this to me. Not for a while anyway.'

'Why did you come here ?'

'I told you. I'm a thief, the window was open, I thought you might have some nice jewelry. Sapphires are my favourite by the way.'

'Want to be whipped ?'

'Not really but I've had a lot worse.'

'I could call the troopers. Have you arrested.'

'Go on then.' Jezebel's voice carries challenge.

'Perhaps I want to get my own back.' Tamzin raises the whip.

'You don't look the vengeful type.'

'You took advantage of me.'

'I'll do it again if you like.' Jezebel leans back in her bonds, pulling gently on the cuffs.

'Why did you come back ?'

'I noticed you were in. Your window was open. We're old friends... I'd had a bit of a disappointing night and fancied a chat, you know, a problem shared and all that. Good job trapping me by the way. I can't remember the last time someone got the better of me. Must be slipping.' Actually distracted would be a better word, you really are cute.

'Are you really interested in my work ?'

'I'm nine centuries old. One has to maintain intellectual curiosity to keep one's mind active.'

'You said you were seven hundred.'

'I lied.'

'A thief and a liar.'

'Tamzin. You're a scientist but you have hobbies. I bet you go dancing, you certainly have other interests.' Jezebel raises her eyebrows. 'In my spare time I'm a collector. I like the term alternative historian too, it's a lot less purgoritive.'

'I'm going to use this if I don't get some straight answers.'

'Like I said the window was open...'

Tamzin brings the whip down on one of Jezebel's breasts.

'Ow !' Jezebel shouts though the pain barely registers on her nervous system.

'Sorry.' Tamzin puts the whip behind her back.

'Look, why don't you let me go. We had a lot of fun the other night. We could do it again.'

'Shut up.'

'If you've finished asking questions can I have a go. It's not as if you confided anything in me last night.'

'You left me gagged.'

'Well, fair point but you might have screamed for help.'

'Why did you come here ?' Tamzin absently strokes her fingers over the red mark made by the whip.

'Mitotic degradation. Can you prevent it with RNA metaphase shift ?'

Tamzin looks at Jezebel intently for a moment. 'So, you've read some science papers.'

'Oh more than that. I've read all your work. Can you do it ?'

'Probably. Why ?'

'Just curious.'

Tamzin brings the whip down on Jezebel's other breast.

'Hey !'

'You could have come to one of my seminars and asked your question.'

'Clone research is a bit of a niche area since...well...since the war.'

'Are you telling me you fought in that one too ?'

'Would you believe me ?'

'I don't know...'

'Anyway, I thought people might ask questions about why I was there.' Jezebel shrugs. 'Awkward questions about what I wanted to know and what I might be plotting. I'm not very popular here in Harmony.'

'So you thought you'd break into my apartment and...' Tamzin looks shocked. 'Were you going to kidnap me ?'

'Would you like me to ?'

Jezebel already knows the answer.

'Look, if I'm going to be your guest and we're going to discussing your work in more detail could we have a drink. I'm not one to drink to forget but tonight really has been a series of disappointments or at least it was until I ended up like this. I spotted a very nice bottle of Chateau Klaw '73 the other night. Unless, of course, you're saving it for someone special.'

Tamzin shakes her head.

'The Kagan would do, a '76 I think, but not the Devonshire, I can't stand Angelisch wine.'

'Me neither, it was a present.'

A few minutes later Tamzin holds a glass to Jezebel's lips.

'You could release me. It would be a lot more civilised.'

'And what would happen then.'

'Oh fair point, I suppose I'd have to overpower you chain you up and tease you to orgasm until pledged to be my faithful slave.'

Tamzin smiles. 'This is only our second date !'


Part 4 - Relationships (added: 2017/06/17)

Madam Bondage is already preparing when Pauline arrives a little more than thirty minutes before the designated time. The Princess stands in the doorway watching the older woman perform one of the higher level forms of the style. The Mistress of Strangeways is clearly a vey proficient practitioner of the martial arts and Pauline can see subtleties of other styles emerging as she moves.

Think I'm going to get my ass kicked but I suppose it's the taking part that counts.

Lady Bishop finishes her form and acknowledges the princess. This morning she wears a simple bustier and briefs though no corset or boots, the usual clothing for Angelisch sparring as practiced outside Angeland itself where traditions are more strictly adhered to. The northerner's garments display the magnificently toned musculature of her firm body. Her only adornment is a leather thong tied around each wrist, items that are commonly worn in more traditional bouts.

'I see you like to prepare thoroughly, Madam.'

'I would not wish to disappoint your Ladyship.'

Pauline smiles and shrugs off her top; she too wears a training bustier and briefs, the bra a little lower and the briefs a little higher cut than her opponent's; she has walked barefoot to the gym. Gently she begins to warm up, stretching her ligaments and muscles, watching her opponent as she does so.

Pauline launches a kick at her opponent following up with a flurry of hand strikes but once again Madam Bondage easily evades and parries the moves. The Princess is exhausted, her gently tanned skin glistening with sweat, it is all she can do to keep from panting. They have been sparring, if that is the correct term, for nearly an hour and the Belladonian has not managed to land a single blow on her opponent. It is true that Madam Bondage has not landed a blow either, somehow Pauline has just about managed to avoid her opponent's kicks and punches, regaining her balance in the nick of time to attempt a counter or avoid a follow up attack. She has come to realise that she is being toyed with but the northerner is so skilled it had taken the Princess until now to appreciate her situation.

Exhausted, Pauline struggles to keep her moves sharp and maintain her guard with her tired arms. Suddenly she sees an opening. Madam Bondage has a tendency to rise on to her toes and lean forward which Pauline thinks is an attempt to further increase her height advantage and to intimidate. It is certainly a posturing technique in traditional Angelisch fighting in which opponents wear full Angelisch dress, including boots. Pauline strikes, closing with her opponent and dropping into a low spinning kick in an attempt to sweep the northerner's legs from under her but a fraction of a second before her strike makes contact Madam Bondage lifts her front leg and Pauline realsises that she has overcommitted herself.

Pauline feels Lady Bishop's weight land on her and attempts to roll forwards but the powerful northerner hold her firmly and she finds herself pinned to the floor on her belly. A moment later Pauline's wrists are being bound behind her and then her ankles are crossed and bound too; before she can prevent it she is in a hogtie. Madam Bondage crouches beside her grasping Pauline's hair in her fist and pulling her head back.

'Yield !' Pauline gasps. 'I yield.'

Madam Bondage releases her grip and stands triumphant over her defeated opponent then bends flipping the helpless brunette onto her back as if she weighed nothing.

Pauline looks up at the victor.

'You fight well, My Lady.' That smile is curling on Madam Bondage's lips again. 'Perhaps when you visit me we can fight again. Perhaps I could further your training.'

'Yes, Madam. It would be an honour.' That increasingly familiar tingle is beginning to run through Pauline's captive body; it is the one that happens whenever she is dominated.

Madam Bondage squats down astride the helpless girl and Pauline is suddenly aware that the catch of her bustier is partially undone and right breast is uncovered; she also realises the exposed nipple is intensely erect and that her chest and face are flushed with more than the exertion of the bout.

Pauline feels Madam Bondage's fist once again wrap itself in her hair and when she meets her opponent's steely blue eyes sees a power there she knows she cannot resist. Another tingle courses through her and she closes her eyes savouring the moment. Madam Bondage's hands move to the clasp of Pauline's bustier and she feels the strong fingers undoing it. She murmurs an assent before she can stop herself.

'Pauline, there you are.' It is Adele's voice.

Madam Bondage refastens Pauline's bustier and the helpless brunette is not sure if that is what she planned to do all along.

'The Lady Pauline is an accomplished fighter, though it appears he choice of apparel could be improved.' Madam Bondage flips Pauline onto her front and releases her from the thongs.

Pauline rolls her eyes.

For Gaia's sake, Adele, will you stop walking in on me like this.

Beth has gone when Boot Girl finally gets back to her apartment. There is a note which Hannah casts to one side in annoyance as she finds food for Master. She takes a milk carton from the refrigerator but when she opens it she finds it to be sour. She takes a moment to look through her cupboards but finds only some powdered soup and a very old tin of fruit in syrup. She takes a mug from the counter, rinses it and fills it with cold water, taking a long drink. Then she feeds Master before peeling off her costume and boots and slips into the shower.

It is late afternoon, Tamzin and Jezebel have drunk two bottles of red wine, Tamzin holding the glass to Jezebel's lips. With her inhibitions lowered Tamzin runs her fingers over Jezebel's body exploring the scars in wonder.

'You could get some tissue regeneration done on these scars you know.'

'I've never found the time.'

'In nine hundred years ?' Tamzin smiles up at the captive. 'Do I have to get my whip and make you talk ?'

'It's probably a bit longer actually.'

Tamzin glances down at the whip but makes no move towards it. 'You were really in the war ?' Tamzin's fingers wander to Jezebel's small breast and begin to tease the nipple. She smiles as it responds appropriately.

'Like I say, I have fought in several.'

'Then you've lived and loved ?'

'Who hasn't ?' Jezebel shifts her weight gently in her bonds.

'Does this bother you ?' Tamzin squeezes Jezebel's nipple.

'Not really but not wanting to be crude, I really have to pee.'

'I won't fall for that old one.' Tamzin giggles.

'Keep many war veterans chained up in your appartment ?' Jezebel suddenly seems far more sober but Tamzin does not seem to notice.

'No, but it's a hobby I'm thinking of taking up.' She leans in and gently kisses her captive's other nipple. 'You know.' Tamzin yawns suddenly. 'I'm really tired.'

Tamzin sits down beside Jezebel and empties her glass. 'I really don't know why I've just done that.'

She wakes several hours later to find her captive has gone.

'My Lady. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure ?'

It is early in the evening and Madam Bondage welcomes Pauline into the quarters assigned to her within the palace.

'I understand you will be leaving early in the morning and did not want to miss the opportunity to express my gratitude to you for sparring with me this morning. I found it most...instructive.'

'My Lady is too kind.'

'I am anxious to visit Castle Strangeways and learn more about you...er...your people.'

Madam Bondage smiles. Indeed, I will ensure arrangements for your visit begin on my return.'

There is a moment's silence.

'May I assist you in any other way, My Lady ?'

Pauline begins to speak a little hesitantly her cheeks colouring slightly. 'There is a custom at the Academy concerning such contests as ours this morning. I was wondering if it was one with which you are familiar.'

Madam Bondage raises an eyebrow.

'It is customary for the defeated to offer some service to the victor, a forfeit.'

Madam Bondage smiles.

'And you wish to fulfill that obligation ?'

'I sensed earlier that you may have claimed such a reward had not my guardian...intervened.'

'Perhaps.' The tone in the northerner's voice is level and Pauline still cannot decide what Madam Bondage had planned to do to her. 'You had something in mind ?'

Before she can respond the door to Madam Bondage's bed chamber opens and Hazel emerges; the slave is naked, her hair damp from a recent shower, she carries the purple thigh high toe boots she wore in the mall and is draped with a towel that does nothing to conceal the delights of her lush body. On seeing her mistress and her visitor she immediately discards the towel and drops to her knees spreading them wide. It is the first time Pauline has seen the girl's face; and she is surprised to find that although the slave is pretty she is not as stunning as the princess would have assumed. She is clearly of northern Bellanian origin though her hair is lighter than Pauline's, more like a Donian and her face slightly rounder; unusually her eyes are hazel and this adds an exotic attraction to her that would not otherwise be present.

Pauline looks back to Madam Bondage wondering why the dominant has chosen this woman as her slave.

'Perhaps you would rather be alone with your slave, Madam.' She has not thought about the possibility of facing the slave.

'I recall we were discussing your forfeit. I'm sure Hazel won't mind but I'll hood her if you wish.'

With her hand trembling, Pauline reaches up and undoes the clasp of her robe allowing it to slip to the floor; beneath she is naked; then, self-consciously, she drops to her knees to adopt a posture similar to that of Madam Bondage's slave.

With her head bowed Pauline cannot see the smile on Madam Bondage's face.

'Actually, there is something you could do for me.' She turns to her slave. 'Hazel, bring your restraint sleeves.'

Pauline watches as the slave slips gracefully onto all fours and crawls from the room; the girl's movements are deliciously sexual, her hips swaying enticingly and Pauline wonders if Hazel always moves like this or whether it is a display for her mistress in the presence of another woman. The full curves of her buttocks are as perfect as are her huge breasts and the lips of her sex are full.

Hmm, that explains a lot. Do I look that hot from that angle ?

Moments later the slave returns still crawling submissively on all fours, she carries in her mouth a pair or bondage sleeves joined by a harness. Unselfconsciously she crawls to Lady Bishop then sits back on her heels placing her hands behind her back and offering the leather restraints to her mistress.

Madam Bondage takes the sleeves and proceeds to slip them onto Hazel's arms, buckling them in place around the girl's upper arms, elbows and wrists; the sleeves end in sewn mitts preventing any use of the wearer's fingers, there are rings at the tips; the dominant then adjusts the shoulder harness before pulling her slave's arms up behind her back and locking the ring at the tip of the left sleeve behind the girl's right shoulder and then the tip of her right sleeve behind her left shoulder. The slave, now helpless with her arms folded up behind her back, continues to kneel obediently with her head bowed.

'Go to your pole.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Hazel rises and walks towards a slave pole, then, stretching to the tips of her toes she straddles the dildo at the top remaining on tiptoe awaiting a command from her Mistress. Pauline watches in anticipation aware of the tip of the dildo brushing the slave's labia; and the tingling in her own sex.

You could just put me on that as a punishment - forfeit, I mean forfeit.

Madam Bondage turns to Pauline. 'Lock her in.'

Pauline hesitates for only a moment before leaning forward and crawling towards the slave with as much swagger as she can muster.

No, actually, this is fine. Though you could punish me too.

As she crawls towards the slave she catches sight of herself in a mirror.

Hey, I do look that good.

Kneeling beside the pole Pauline snaps the cuffs round the girl's slim ankles aware that the slave is trembling even more than she is herself. The cuffs hold the girl's ankles about a inch away from the pole and are designed to slide freely up and down the shaft. Her task complete Pauline sits back on her heels steeling a glance up at the slave standing above her. The girl's gaze is fixed ahead as she concentrates on maintaining her balance above the pole.

Those tits are fabulous.

Kneeling with her head bowed Pauline is aware of Madam Bondage coming to stand in front of her slave; the Lady Bishop's high heeled thigh boots are gorgeous, glistening wet leather buckled in multiple straps; the desire to throw herself forward and worship them with her tongue is almost unbearable. She lifts her head slightly aware of the bare flesh above the boots and the leather briefs.

I could undo those buckles with my teeth.

Madam Bondage glances down at her and she bows her head again aware that the dominant is about to clamp her slave's huge nipples. She cannot resist looking up again and sees the heroine bend to kiss the slaves nipples gently before placing the clamps onto each of them; the clamps are like thick nipple cuffs, linked by a short chain from which a nipple stimulator hangs; Pauline knows the device is linked linked remotely to the pole. Such systems are common in the bedrooms and boudiores of Harmony along with punishment racks where submissives can be restrained for both their own pleasure and that of their mistress.

'You've been a very good girl this week, Hazel. I know it can't have been easy for you.' The heroine's fingers stroke the helpless girl's huge breasts then she bends and kisses her slave on the forehead. Pauline notices the girl's legs tense as, full of need, the slave pushes herself towards her mistress; in doing so, she has slid a little lower onto the pole. The princess keeps her head down aware of her own rising lust.

Lucky bitch.

Pauline's nipples are swollen with desire and would easily take a standard cuff but they are less than half the size of Lady Bishop's slave's nipples and the stim cuffs the girl has been locked into would simple fall off the princess' nipples. Also, though quite large by Harmony standards for an unenhanced girl and easily capable of taking a breast cuff, Pauline's breasts are dwarfed by Hazel's.

With Hazel's nipples cuffed Madam Bondage steps away from the pole and Pauline turns her head watching the sway of the redhead's hips as the dominant disappears into the bedroom before returning a moment later with a head harness. The dominatrix steps behind her slave who opens her mouth unbidden to accept the large rubber ball of the gag; Madam Bondage then pulls the harness into place ensuring the blindfold covers the slave's eyes before buckling the straps tightly.

Please do that to me too !

Pauline is aware of the heat of her desire and the wetness between her legs. It takes all her willpower not to move or touch herself particularly when the dominant then activates the foot pedal which causes the pole and heel switches to rise beneath the helpless slave standing beside her leaving the gagged and blindfolded girl impaled on the pole; even without the restriction of the ankle cuffs she would not be able to climb off it without help.

'Well ?'

'Delicious, Mistress.' Pauline's voice is dreamy and distracted.

'I wasn't talking to you.'

Pauline blushes at her lasciviousness and hears the gagged slave murmur acknowledgement; she imagines the girl nodding. Suddenly there is a loud slap and Pauline looks up, Madam Bondage has just struck the impaled slave on her buttocks.

'Wait.'

The helpless girl nods and Pauline notices the slave's legs are trembling uncontrollably. Aware of her own rising needs, Pauline, feels a sympathy for the helpless girl beside her so obviously embroiled in her own submissive lust. She sees Madam Bondage look down at her and then beckon her with a curl of her finger. The dominant turns on her heel and Pauline once again leans forward to crawl on all fours. She follows Lady Bishop into the bedroom, kneeling back and bowing her head as the woman turns to face her.

'Put those one.' She gestures to the bed and Pauline can see the slave boots Hazel was wearing when she first encountered the mistress and slave in the mall. 'I have a perfect forfeit for you.'

Yes, Mistress.

Pauline crawls to the bed and picks up the boots then sits on the floor to put them on. The leather is cool and deliciously soft as she slides her legs into first the left then the right boot then; slowly, meticulously she begins to lace them up.

It takes her some time and she feels very aware that Madam Bondage may be watching her but she dares not look up.

Finally the boots are laced to her satisfaction and she sits for a moment, still naked on the floor admiring them. A soft cough distracts her and she hurriedly resumes her kneeling position, forced a little higher than she might otherwise be by the tightness of the boots.

'Bring this.' Madam Bondage throws the purple single sleeve down in front of her and Pauline bends eagerly to retrieve it with her mouth crawling after her mistress; as she looks up she sees Madam Bondage pick up the inflatable hood that covered Hazel's head in the mall.

Oh, Gaia. I think I'm going to come.

Back in the reception room Madam Bondage picks up the control of the slave pole and sets it while Pauline sits back as far as the boots will allow, the sleeve still in her teeth; she is very aware of the leather rubbing gently on her stiffly erect right nipple with every breath.

'One in five, I think. I'm feeling generous tonight.' Madam Bondage activates the slave pole control, the green column four times larger than the red one. 'And perhaps a small chance of level 7 red for your earlier indiscretion.' She places the control in a low table and takes out her whip again. She bends and kisses her slave's left breast then strikes it hard with her whip; the breast bounces with the strike the nipple dragging the sensor with it and Pauline hears the buzz of vibrators.'

'Lucky girl.' Madam Bondage smiles. 'All at once.' On the table three green '5's flash, two smaller ones and one large one.

The slave is already writhing on the pole the nipple stimulators and vibrator between her legs teasing her mercilessly.

'And you can stop that, young lady !'

Pauline freezes, she has been tipping her head slightly and breathing more deeply to tease her nipple with the leather bondage glove.

'I'd punish you but, like Hazel here, I suspect your concept of pleasure and pain is so blurred that sending you to bed would be the harshest thing I could do; and that would be no fun at all.' Madam Bondage takes the single sleeve and crouches behind the kneeling princess.

Being restrained in the single sleeve is more delightful then donning the boots as it is out of her control. Madam Bondage laces the sleeve carefully, pulling it tighter and tighter until Pauline's arms are pressed firmly together, elbow to elbow, forearm to forearm and palm to palm. Pauline has worn a slave sheath several times before but can never recall one being applied to her quite so tightly.

With the princess tightly restrained Madam Bondage stands and draws her whip, stroking the tip over the kneeling girl's breasts which are thrust out forcefully by the tight bondage sleeve and it's shoulder straps.

'I see it's not the first time someone's been a naughty girl this week.' Lady Bishop traces the tip of the whip over the bruises on Pauline's breasts. 'What did you do to deserve these ?'

'I chased a girl stealing something from the mall....Mistress.'

'Ah, your encounter with Minx.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline blushes though not just because of the fact Madam Bondage has heard of her action.

'One might call that vigilantism. I'm not sure your mother would approve.'

'I believe all citizens have a responsibility to uphold law and order.'

'What do you think of your mother's law banning the Heroines then ?'

'I know what happened to Lady Blush, Mistress. I can see mum's point of view but...yes, I think she is wrong. I think she rules well but she made the law with her heart, not her head.'

Pauline wonders briefly what happened to Melody.

'So what do you think of the Boot Girl ?'

'I admire her, Mistress.'

'Anything more ?'

Pauline blushes. 'If I'm honest I'd like to be her.'

'Manners !'. Madam Bondage brings her whip down on Pauline's breasts and the kneeling girl jumps.

'Sorry, Mistress. I mean 'I'd like to be like her, Mistress.'.'

'Better.'

Whip me again and I will come !

'Well, I suggest you hold on to that thought while we complete your bondage. You can walk in toe boots I assume ?'

'Of course, Mistress.' Pauline has been to finishing school in Angeland where toe boots are not worn by slaves but by women of social status. Oddly, the shoes worn by most Ballanians would be considered maids' shoes by Angels.

Madam Bondage picks up the pump hood and commands Pauline to open her mouth; she pushes the pump gag inside and partially inflates it then she pulls the hood over Pauline's head pausing to insert earplugs before smoothing the inner skin of the hood down and pushing the kneeling girl's hair inside at the back before closing it and locking it at the nape of the kneeling girl's neck; then she pumps the gag a little more before inflating the hood itself. Helpless inside, Pauline can only try to relax as the gag fills her mouth, and the hood compresses her face and scalp. She is no stranger to quite intense bondage and has been hooded many times but the pump hood is new to her and she is very aware of the narrow breathing tubes over her nostrils; as she kneels sealed inside the hood completely unable to see or speak and barely able to hear.

Please whip me again, I really need to come.

As she kneels enjoying the new sensation Pauline feels Madam Bondage lift her left breast and then a slight tightening around her nipple; she recalls the gold nipple cuffs that Hazel wore in the mall and realises these are now being used on her; there is a tightening around her right nipple as the second cuff is applied and she fights down the urge to climax.

A jerk on both nipples gives her the unmistakable command to stand and she obeys struggling to the points her feet in the tight restraints. She feels the pressure of the whip across her buttocks and obediently takes a short step forward. A touch of the crop to her belly stops her almost immediately and she stands teetering on the edge of climax.

Please, Mistress !

Something brushes against her legs and she realises Madam Bondage is dressing her in Hazel's tiny purple thong.

Just as well I waxed for the ball.

As the thong is slipped into place, Pauline realises it is more than a thin strip of leather between her legs, the gusset is bulky and slightly rough but not uncomfortably so. Pauline is distracted for a moment as the Mistress of Strangeways checks her new submissive's bondage; the nipple cuffs are ratcheted tighter by one more notch and the pump gag inflated a fraction more; then there is a sharp jerk on her nipples and she sets off blind, helpless and leashed.

'Are you sick ?' Jezebel peers in through Tamzin's open window. The girl is kneeling in front of the couch. As on the previous night she is naked though she has covered her skin in blue body paint.

'No, just feeling a little blue.' She grins self consciously.

'I'm touched.' Jezebel peers in.

'I know you like blue things. There are no traps by the way.' Tamzin turns and shows that her wrists are cuffed behind her, her ankles are hobbled with a short chain too. A ball gag hangs in front of her throat. 'As you can see I'm no threat to you, Mistress.'

Jezebel slides herself though the window

There is a bottle of wine on the low table beside the sofa and two glasses. Jezebel picks it up. 'Chateau Klaw '62. Expensive.'

'A girl likes to impress where she can.'

'Oh, Dr. Betts, I'm already very impressed.' Jezebel's voice carries humour but also something deeper and more genuine. 'Who is the girl ?' Jezebel picks up photo that lies face down on the table. It shows a pretty girl with a round face, brown hair and very pale brown eyes.

'Someone from work.'

'Someone special ?'

'No, just a...colleague who...left recently. This afternoon actually.'

'You will miss her ?'

'A little.'

Jezebel smiles.

'Make me your slave.' Tamzin has said it before she can stop herself and finds herself blushing furiously, grateful that Jezebel cannot see the true colour of her skin.

Jezebel turns sharply to look at her. 'This is only our third date.'

'I'm sorry. I just know... I just...want to be yours.'

'Isn't this all a bit sudden. Rather dangerous ? Aren't you just a little anxious ?'

'The only thing that frightens me is you leaving me behind.'

'I'm a southern gal you know. Well, I was...am, sort of. None of this northern pledging business. A slave in the south spends her nights in chains...then there's the conditioning...beatings for any failings, punishment ties...' She shrugs. 'Well, I expect you'd enjoy most of that, for the first few years at least.'

'Until you tired of me ?'

Jezebel forces a smile. 'Well, I would be able to sell you at any time.'

'If you don't want me just leave.'

'You don't look as if you're in a position to make demands.'

'Then why not use me for your pleasure.' She arches her eyebrows suggestively. 'I promise to be a very good girl.'

Jezebel grabs Tamzin by the hair and pulls her head back. Tamzin's eyes are moist with tears.

Pas'ak she really is beautiful.

'What did you say ?'

Ooops. 'Do you pledge yourself to me ?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'And you will submit to full slave training ?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Then how can I refuse ?'

Tamzin smiles and, for all her years, Jezebel can't help feeling that she has been outwitted for a second time. She loosens her grip on the kneeling girl's hair.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Tamzin almost sobs.

'My ride will be here in a couple of hours. I was expecting a fond farewell, perhaps a few tears, a hug, a promise to write...perhaps a little heavy petting...'

'I'm sure I'll be able to keep you amused, Mistress.' Tamzin's confidence is returning.

Jezebel smiles. 'I don't doubt it.'

Tamzin grasps the top of Jezebel's knickers with her teeth and starts to pull them down.

'I thought we'd make your report a little more intimate this evening. I'm expecting a visit from Roberta.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Adele is kneeling up in a whipping stock in the Contesse de Renee's private apartment in the penthouse of the palace; the slave's wrists are locked in the steel cross piece that also imprisons her neck while heavy leather straps across her ankles and calves hold her on her knees.

'Well ?' Contesse de Renee strokes Adele's breasts with a discipline whip, the huge globes have been tightly cuffed for some time and are now dusky and very sensitive.

Adele glances up at her mistress aware of her vulnerability particularly in view of the news she will deliver.

The Mistress of Harmony, as always, looks to her slave utterly beautiful, her dark hair shining, her face with its dark eyes and full lips carefully made up; the Lady de Renee has removed her robe and wears only a light silken waist corset and her heeled sandals with their built up toe platform.

'That cat burglar broke into Juliana Chayan's apartment last night.'

'The lawyer ?'

'Yes. I think she was at Brideshead with your daughter.'

'Pauline was a several years behind her. They may have overlapped by a term.'

'Poor woman was left bound and gagged for several hours.'

'I can imagine she was devastated. Did our cat-burglar leave her usual calling card ?'

'A vibrator, yes.'

'Poor Miss Chayan.' Lady de Renee's voice does not suggest sympathy.

'She was found when the fire alarm went off in her apartment. If that hadn't happened she could still be there.'

Lady de Renee smiles. 'Any leads on this one ?'

'Witnesses report the figure in blue climbing up a nearby building shortly after but again no camera coverage. It's almost as if she is controlling the system.'

The Contesse brings the whip down on Adele's breasts.

Adele is well enough acquainted with such treatment not to cry out.

'Continue !'

'Yes, Mistress.' Adele looks down at the dusky skin of her throbbing breasts, the whip has burst a line capillaries across each of the sensitive flesh and left rapidly expanding bruises. 'It seems we are right about the Donna, or La Donna, some sort of southern gang boss; extortion, gambling, drugs, a few disappearances...'

'Slavery ?'

'Probably. Certainly no bodies. Lash and Fetish are clearly working for her; whoever she is she's spooking the population.'

'What are you doing about it ?'

'More troopers on the streets, a little undercover work, I do wonder if...' Adele stop suddenly realising she has lost her customary caution.

'Yes ?'

'I do wonder, Mistress..., if a...symbol might unite the people.'

'A symbol other than their queen ?' There is a cold edge to the Contesse's voice.

'A Heroine, Mistress.'

The Contessa brings the whip down hard on Adele's bound breasts and another bruise appears. 'No. You know my views on that.'

'Yes, Mistress, but...'

The whip falls again. 'No.'

'As you wish, Mistress.' Adele falls silent.

'Which reminds me, have you caught the booted vigilante yet ?'

'Boot Girl ? No, we're still working on that.'

'Adele, I expect results, not disobedience.' She brings the whip down again.

'Yes, Mistress.' Adele's voice is strained with the pain in her breasts.

'Perhaps some punishment will remind you of your duties.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Lady de Renee steps back to give her room to swing the whip properly and then lands a sharp blow on her slaves bare bottom; she follows it with a second and then a third in short succession.

'This Boot Girl is starting to become a nuisance.'

La Donna glares at Lash and Fetish.

'Is there anyone here capable of dealing with her ?'

Lash and Fetish look down, Lash is particularly miserable at her failure.

'I think I might be able to help.'

A figure emerges from the shadows and Lash immediately takes a defensive posture placing herself between La Donna and the intruder.

As she steps into the dim light it is clear the woman is Angelisch; platinum blonde hair is piled on top of her head and held in place by long, slender metal pins; intelligent blue eyes regard the villainesses with something that is probably amusement; rouged lips curl into a harsh smile; the woman radiates confidence and command.

'Call off your bitch, Lady Simone, we should talk.' Her Belladonian is fluid and almost completely unaccented, her voice as commanding as her presence. She is dressed in a red leather corset and deep satin knickers, the corset is heavily embroidered and tiny red flowers adorn the plunging neckline which displays the creamy fullness of her breasts, red topped stockings are supported on metal clips that hang from her corset and disappear into toe boots typical of the Angelisch style; the boots have a slim 8 inch steel heels that look just like the pins in her hair and are built up at the toes to accommodate this but the Angel moves elegantly and smoothly on them, the extra height giving her an even more commanding presence. She wears red leather gloves and a matching choker, there is a narrow red silk ribbon with two holes in tied around her face as a mask.

'Who the fuck are you ?' Fetish sneers as she speaks.

'It appears, Fetish, you are as foul-mouthed as your are foul...but for future reference my name is Stiletto.' The Angel turns to La Donna. 'My Lady, I don't know why a demoiselle such as yourself would tolerate such an underling.'

'She has her uses. What do you want, Stiletto ?'

'I was hoping, my Lady we could come to an arrangement.'

'What had you in mind.'

'In exchange for Boot Girl I want you to organise me a riot ?'

'Me, arrange riot here in Harmony ? You perhaps have mistaken me for the Lady de Renee.'

'My Lady, let us not play games. You have been steadily goading to citizens this last few months, robbery, extortion, those disappearing girls... Trouble is brewing and you have much to gain.'

'Gain, in what way ? Do enlighten me.'

'Discord in Harmony can only help your cause for independence.'

'And, if I were carrying out such a nefarious scheme why should I jeopardise it by instigating a riot ?'

'My Lady, I know who was responsible for the raid on the Western Bank last night. You are no doubt planning to leave Harmony shortly though not with undue haste. One final act of insurrection before you go would, as I have said, only help your cause.'

'And how would a visiting dignitary organise a riot ?'

'My Lady, you have many resources available to you. I know you hold sway over the street gangs. I believe the Sprites and the Devils carry out many of your abductions.'

'You seem remarkably well informed, Madam.' La Donna glares are Lash and Fetish.

Stiletto smiles. 'I have my sources.'

La Donna considers for a moment.

'Very well. Bring me Boot Girl and you shall have your insurrection.'

'My Lady is too kind.' Stiletto bows and withdraws.

As Pauline walks the purpose of the thong becomes immediately obvious; she has barely taken half a dozen teetering steps in the toe-boots before she is intensely aware of the way her sex is being teased with every movement. In her current state of arousal she knows it will not take long for her to come uncontrollably.

Pauline is not too surprised to find that Madam Bondage does not use lifts and finds herself climbing the stairs on the nipple leash behind her new and exciting, if temporary, mistress. With each step the movement of the chain teases her nipples and, as she climbs, the effect of the thong is even more marked; she is only on the third flight when she climaxes, swaying slightly in her bondage. Locked inside the hood, Pauline cannot tell whether Madam Bondage doesn't notice or chooses to ignore the lapse but the expected chastening blow to her breasts does not occur.

Perhaps she's not as sharp as she thinks.

The climb continues and Pauline comes twice more doing her best to hide the climaxes from the dominant; eventually the pull on her cuffed nipples leads her from the stairs; the burning in her thighs and buttocks from the exertion of the climb mixed deliciously with the heat in her sex so that she cannot quite be sure what is pleasure and what pain.

When they first set out Pauline assumed she would be lead round the palace for a while and then taken back to Madam Bondage's quarters to be released and, perhaps, asked to pleasure the dominant; if she was honest, she was rather looking forward to showing off her, not inconsiderable oral skills. At the start of the climb she assumed she was purely being given a chance to enjoy the full effect of the thong but then as they continued up flight after flight of stairs Pauline has experienced a growing sense of unease. She knows now where she is being taken.

Not the penthouse. Please.

Pauline is all too familiar with her mother's quarters and when she feels the whip across her belly telling her to stop and then it's pressure on the back of her knee indicating she should kneel she knows her nipple leash is about to be clipped to a ring just inside the door of her mother's reception room that visiting dignitaries use to secure their slaves. She can feel herself blushing furiously and, for a moment, fears Madam Bondage will unhood her and expose her.

'Madam.' Lady de Renee nods politely to Lady Bishop as the northerner enters the Contesse's penthouse suite with her slave in tow and secures the helpless girl to the slave ring.

'Majesty.' Madam Bondage bows formally. 'Will Adele be joining us ?'

'No. Adele is otherwise occupied this evening, a stock take.' The Contesse has left her slave kneeling in the whipping stocks with her buttocks and breasts liberally marked; she has gagged her too.

'I am sorry to have missed her. Please give her my regards.'

'I shall, Madam.'

As the minutes pass Pauline relaxes as best she can telling herself that if Madam Bondage planned to expose her to her mother and perhaps Adele, she would have done so at the outset. She kneels, obediently, legs spread wide, head bowed; utterly helpless waiting on the pleasure of her mistress; she is exquisitely aware of the tightness of her bondage, the sheath pinning her arms behind her, the hood and gag and their effects on her breathing, the cuffs around her throbbing nipples and the thong; all of which keeps her intensely aroused.

Finally she feels the leash being unclipped and a short tug indicating she should stand, then she is lead back out into the hallway. She is relieved to find that Madam Bondage plans to use the lift on their return journey but a little disappointed her forfeit may soon be over. She is surprised by how soon the lift stops and then even more surprised by the touch of the whip to the back of her knee giving the unmistakable command to kneel. She obeys, spreading her legs and bowing her head as best she can. She feels the whip lightly caress her breasts and then tease the tips of her cuffed and throbbing nipples; her breathing quickens and then without warning the whip comes down hard on her breasts causing them to bounce in response, the chain hanging from her cuffed nipples jerking sharply; she comes on the second strike climaxing hard, a muffled sound escaping through the gag. The whipping continues; breasts, belly, her bare thighs above the top of the boots and then she is bent forward and whipped soundly on the bottom. Throughout the whipping she climaxes again and again thrashing around under the lash her nipples constantly stimulated by the jerking of the chain and her sex by the pressure of the thong. As the flagellation continues she is left fighting for breath and lightheaded until she thinks her body can take no more and she will pass out; she has lost consciousness through orgasm three times in her life and, if she is honest, wet herself twice, on both occasions when teased to climax in very strict bondage.

Finally, the punishment seems to abate and with the whipping apparently over and her breathing settling she is thus relieved she has come through the ordeal without doing the passing out but less confident she has managed to avoid wetting herself.

However, Madam Bondage has not finished with her and Pauline suddenly feels the tip of the whip slide into the front of her thong where it begins to tease her again. She shakes her head sure that she cannot climax again but the intimate teasing continues and she feels something brushing her cuffed nipples; within a few minutes she is close to orgasm again and then, gasping for breath, her body shudders to climax.

Oh Gaia ! Make her keep me as her slave.

'Can you believe she brought that slut with her ?' Lady de Renee is angry. 'Right here in my apartment ! Has the woman no shame ?'

Adele still kneeling in the whipping stock just as her mistress left her; the slave is still gagged and cannot respond but glances down anxiously at her whip marked breasts which are still tightly bound and throbbing painfully. The heat in her bottom has faded but she knows she will not be able to sit properly for the next few days and does not relish the prospect of the long council meeting that faces her in the morning.

The Contesse picks up the discipline whip from the table where she left it but then throws it onto the bed.

'Oh, I suppose I shouldn't punish you for that.' She stands behind the helpless slave and bends to kiss the top of her head. Though Adele can't see, her mistress is smiling. 'I think you've had quite enough of that this evening.' As she speaks she slides her hands down over Adele's breasts rubbing the sensitive nipples and then cupping the heavy firm flesh.

Adele whimpers into her gag.

'You know, I don't think Roberta is feeding the slut as many hormones. I'm sure yours are bigger now.' She squeezes the dusky flesh producing another whimper from her gagged slave.

'You're going soft. You used to be a lot more stoical.'

You didn't used to punish me quite so intensely.

Lady de Renee's hands continue to kneed Adele's breasts and she begins to squeeze the kneeling woman's big nipples; Adele struggles to maintain her silence but the Contesse continues to increase the pressure, twisting the sensitive flesh and bringing her nails to bear until the helpless slave can bear the nipple torment no longer and cries out through her gag. Lady de Renee smiles at her triumph and straightens up.

'You have permission to speak.' Lady de Renee has just removed Adele's gag.

'Thank you, Mistress.'

Lady de Renee walks across to a rack of bondage equipment that hangs on one wall and takes down a restraint belt. She returns to stand behind her slave and proceeds to buckle it around the kneeling woman's waist, locking it in place.

'I hope you remember where the key is.' Adele tries to lighten her mistress' mood.

'I might but I have been thinking that I've probably been too soft on you recently; a few weeks naked and leashed should tighten your discipline.'

'I'm sure not your State Administrator would be able to maintain her authority while undergoing such treatment.' A smile plays across Adele's lips. 'No matter how much we might both enjoy it.'

'I can see I'm going to have to keep you gagged too.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Lady de Renee releases Adele's left wrist from the stock and folds the slave's arm behind her back locking it into one of the restraint belt's two cuffs.

'I won't try and over power you, I promise, Mistress.' Adele is far more muscular than her mistress and a more accomplished fighter. Free, she could easily overcome and subjugate her mistress.

'It will have to be a very large gag.'

'It's a long time since we've wrestled, Mistress.'

Lady de Renee sighs. 'Yes, and the last time we did I ended up as the one chained to the bed.'

'I don't recall you objecting.'

'You gagged me.'

'Not all evening as I remember.' Adele smirks and Lady de Renee cannot stop a tiny smile.

'It is, however, not the way an Empress should be treated.'

'Indeed not, Mistress.'

Lady de Renee releases Adele's right wrist from the stock and locks it behind her back; then she takes a pair of ankle cuffs with a 6 inch chain and, after releasing the straps around her slave's ankles, locks the cuffs into place; then she undoes the straps holding Adele's calves; the slave now kneels with her wrists cuffed behind her and her ankles chained together, she is kept upright by the collar of the stock.

'If you're a good girl, I might just take those breast cuffs off.'

'Mistress is too kind.'

'Yes, I am, aren't I.' Lady de Renee undoes the collar. 'Get up onto the bed.'

Adele obeys, crawling awkwardly across the wooden floor.

'And remember you don't have permission to stand.'

'Indeed, Mistress.'

When she reaches the bed Adele is forced to ease herself up using her body and, inevitably, to lie on her aching breasts. The Contesse watches with amusement then removes her heels and slides beneath the covers, patting the bedspread to indicate where her slave should lie. As Adele squirms towards her, Lady de Renee tousles the slaves blonde hair and then, when she is close enough the Contesse guides her slave's mouth towards her mistress' nipple.

'Remember, be a good girl and those breast cuffs will come off in the morning.'

Adele groans, but continues nibbling her mistress' nipple contentedly.

'Completely irresponsible.' Adele is flushed and angry leaving Pauline bewildered.

'What ?'

'Look.' Adele points to a monitor screen and then she touches it; a slightly grainy picture comes to life; it shows a standing woman whipping a kneeling slave; the slave is thrashing around under the blows.

Pauline feels a knot of anxiety in her belly. It is clearly footage from the lift camera taken the previous night. She already thinks Adele is regarding her suspiciously for her choice of dress this morning, tight leather trousers rather than her usual shorts and a full leather vest instead of a bustier.

'She stopped the lift for over an hour.'

An hour ?

'I was about to send in a rescue team. I mean can't she punish her slave in her quarters or even leave it until she is back at Castle Strangeways.'

'I don't think she's punishing her.'

Adele glares at Pauline who gestures to the screen. If the purpose of the whipping was ambiguous the teasing with the tip of the whip down the front of the thong leaves no doubt.

'It's not funny. They left a hell of mess. I'm sure that slave slut must have wet herself.'

Pauline turns away to hide her blush.


Part 5: Into Action (added: 2017/07/08)

There is a message from Beth on Hannah's comm as she leaves the gym. The pert blonde smiles to herself as she takes the voice mail but her pleasure quickly fades.

'Hannah.' Beth's voice sounds frightened. 'You've go to help me. They took me from your apartment yesterday. I'm being held prisoner. I'm tied up in some big warehouse...'

I'm helpless....' There is a muffled shriek and what sounds very much like a woman's gagged cries.

Another voice comes on the line, rich and deep like a Bellanian high-born but not quite.

'Dock Street, the disused customs house.'

'Look, you're wasting your time, I don't have any money.'

The connection terminates.

But I do have a friend who can help...

Boot Girl can see the afternoon sun shining off the surface of the river Teese from the rooftop on which she has landed. Many of the warehouses in the dockside are deserted though a number of the ones nearer the river to the north are gradually being converted to expensive apartments as the old artist's district becomes more desirable. Dock Street is some distance from these developments and many of its once thriving warehouses continue to decay; overland megatrucks have replaced river barges from the south and the railway to Angeland now takes much of the freight west. Between the docks and the river is the East Side, once home to the dockers and those who worked in the warehouses; now Harmony's poorest district; tenements, squats and home to Harmony's only current heroine.

The heroine now stands among broken skylights, birds' nests and packing debris: ropes, broken crates and crowbars that have somehow found their way on to the roof. Leaning over the crumbling wall she can see the empty street and old Customs House, identifiable by its broken sign as the 'Custo.. Hous.', a block down. There is nothing unusual about it, no activity, no vehicle, no flyer on the roof. She watches the building and the street for nearly five minutes and, although common sense dictates a longer period of observation the distress in Beth's voice and the callous delivery of the deep voiced woman spur her into action.

Did the skylight the other day? Window ? Kick the door in ?

The anticipation of action and of its possible rewards excites her.

There is a rusting fire escape on the side of the old warehouse and Boot Girl launches towards this landing as silently as she is able outside the steel handrail before hopping agily over it to crouch beside a grimy window. Peering in she can see little at first but as her eyes accustom to the shadows and shapes within she catches a movement and can see a tall figure pacing among the crates.

Is that my stalker ?

She forces herself to wait for several minutes but can see nobody else, including Beth.

Here goes !

Boot Girl kicks hard at the centre of the wooden frame which crumbles easily, the glass shattering then she dives through and fires her boots.

Madam Bondage smiles to herself and shakes her head as Boot Girl dives through the window of the warehouse. She has positioned herself where she can watch the action unfold inside.

The figure in the warehouse is clearly Angelisch, tall, blonde and dressed in red. She looks up as Boot Girl drops in a graceful dive but appears to show no real surprise, watching as the heroine tumbles in the air bringing her boots down to fire them again to break her fall.

By the time the heroine has landed the tall Angel has gone, however, Hannah can see Beth.

The petite dark haired Angel is suspended by four chains which spread her limbs holding her about two feet above the floor. She is naked and gagged. The helpless girl's green eyes widen as she sees Boot Girl and the heroine thinks she sees the Angel's lips curl into a smile around the large gag.

Boot Girl pauses for a moment taking in the sight of her naked and helpless lover and then a soft sound makes her turn.

'What a diligent Heroine you are, my dear.' The Angel is dressed in a red corset and knickers and toe boots, she also wears a red collar and red ribbon mask; she is a powerfully built woman, at least seven feet tall in her boots, her blonde hair is piled on her head and held in place with two large pins. 'Quite the entrance too. Your pretty lover must be very impressed.'

'Who the fuck are you ?' Boot Girl draws herself up to her full almost five feet including the stacked heel of her boots, despite this the blonde towers over her.

'You Bellanians really are very coarse.' The Angel adopts a disdainful expression. Her Bellanian is fluent. 'But since you ask, my name is Stiletto.' She executes a formal Angelisch bow.

'And what do you want ?'

Stiletto's scarlet lips curl into a smile that is utterly menacing.

'Why, my dear. I want you.' The Angel lunges forward with a speed that is surprising for her size and Boot Girl barely avoids the attack, flipping back to give herself space before dropping into a fighting guard.

Stiletto smiles again, more genuinely this time. 'The Angelisch style. How very cosmopolitan of you.' The blonde takes a step forward adopting a similar guard, fists raised, left hand slightly lower and further forward. 'Your move.'

Hannah flicks a lock of blonde hair out of her face and dives forward trying to close the distance between them to come inside the woman's guard but the Angel is too quick and the heroine takes a blow to the ribs that winds her before she can roll free.

'Madam van Aardt, I might have guessed. I expect she's rather proud of you.' The Angel nods.

'Do you ever stop talking ?' Boot Girl is still gasping from the blow to her ribs.

'I was only trying to be polite. You know we Angels like to engage in small talk. My move I believe.'

Stiletto's attack is fast and powerful and Boot Girl is forced to parry before avoiding but even as she does so she take another blow to the ribs and, before she can react, finds her legs are swept away from under her as the Angel drops into a spinning sweep.

Boot Girl lands heavily but rolls immediately narrowly avoiding a stamping kick that would probably have broken her shoulder. The heroine flips to her feet eyeing her opponent carefully.

Shit !

'You could submit to me now. It would probably save you quite a beating.'

'I'll take my chances.' Boot Girl coughs slightly and wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

'As you wish.' Stiletto stands in the vixen's guard waiting for Boot Girl's next pass.

Boot Girl edges slightly forward and then jumps firing her boots with the intention of powering into her opponent but the Angel's reaction is too quick, the villainess simply drops effortlessly into splits raising her arms as the heroine passes.

As she lands Boot Girl feels a wetness on her side under her right arm. She looks down to find she is bleeding, only a minor scratch.

'Hey, don't mark the goods.'

Stiletto stands; she is holding one of her hair pins and, as the heroine watches she slides it back into place.

'Don't relax yet, Lady, I ain't finished.'

'Oh, my dear. I can assure you you are.'

A puzzled expression crosses the heroine's face then, suddenly she staggers, her legs feeling weak.'

'What the fu.. ?' Boot Girl crumples to the floor; she is aware of her surroundings but her body will not respond to her wishes; it is a little like being tazered but a lot less painful. She watches the tall Angel move towards her; from where Boot Girl is lying the woman looks unrealistically tall, even the steel spikes of her heels seem to tower above the fallen heroine. She tries to move but her body still won't obey her and it is starting to hurt, in fact she feels dreadful.

'It's called rocura. It's a drug that was once used for surgery to keep the patient still. Surgery and, of course, torture.' The Angel smiles cruelly. 'It confers no protection from the pain. I believe a second drug was required for that.'

The Angelisch woman crouches down on her vertiginous heels.

'I imagine you're starting to feel a little panicky by now, heart pounding, dry mouth, knot of fear in the the chest.'

Boot Girl stares at her unable even to blink, aware of all the sensations Stiletto is describing and more; it is as if her body is screaming at her brain to do something but she can't think what it is; her thoughts are starting to become muddled.

Stiletto pulls something out of a pouch in her belt, it is some sort of rubber mask which she applies to Boot Girl's face pulling straps over her head to hold it in place.

You really don't have to gag me !

There is a hiss and Boot Girl feels a lurching sensation in her chest.

What the... ?

The sound and movement come again and, strangely, she starts to feel better.

'It's a respirator, a device used by the paramedics. The drug has paralysed all of your muscles including the ones that make you breath.'

There is a hiss and a pressure in Hannah's chest again. It is uncomfortable but far preferable to what she has just experienced.

'The effects of the drug will pass but, of course, by then you'll be unable to move for other reasons.'

Boot Girl takes another mechanical breath.

Oh fuck!

Stiletto picks Hannah up and throws her over her shoulder leaving her victim hanging like a rag doll. She carries Hannah towards Beth and pauses in front of the chained Angel. Slung over Stiletto's shoulder Hannah can see the floor of the warehouse and the villainess' shiny red boots. She feels the Angel move.

'Don't worry, my dear, I'll be back for you later.' The villainess speaks Angelisch and Boot Girl realises Stiletto is talking to Beth. The utter helplessness of defeat almost makes Hannah panic.

Then the Angel turns and walks back the way she has come, turning to her right between two old crates where she lays her burden on her side beside a large canvas bag.

This can't be good.

Hannah strains to move but is still completely unable to do so. The respirator, while life sustaining only serves to heighten her vulnerability, a feeling that is further amplified when Stiletto strips her.

Lying on her side Boot Girl can only watch as her captor unzips the bag which seems to contain an assortment of items in shocking pink. Boot Girl cannot see exactly what Stiletto is preparing but can see slave boots, bondage mitts and lots of straps.

'I assume you are familiar with the concept of an Angelisch pet, a little like a southern pleasure slave who exists only to please her Mistress, purely for decoration and, of course pleasure. In some parts of our country such possessions are called 'dolls' or 'toys'.' She turns round and smiles at her helpless victim. 'I'm going to make you a doll and, of course, all dolls must wear pretty outfits.'

Oh fuck !

Over the next fifteen minutes Boot Girl is dressed in the pink outfit Stiletto has prepared for her; first come shiny pink bondage mitts into which the villainess slides her victim's hands and arms before strapping them in place and locking them with small heart-shaped padlocks, the mitts come almost to her shoulders and are reinforced and stiffened making it impossible for Boot Girl to bend her arms even if she was not paralysed; next the heroine is dressed in thigh high toe boots, as with the gloves these are in shocking pink, they are so high they reach her crotch and she can feel the pressure of them against her labia, again they are very stiff and reinforced with thin steel bars, the boots too are locked in place and then the pink cuffs are locked around her wrists and ankles; the wrist cuffs are locked to the tops of the boots and the ankle cuffs snapped together.

'I'm assured these are delightful to walk in. Not that you can walk yet though I imagine you'll be starting to get a little movement back by now. Oh, and don't try to fight the respirator, it may damage your lungs.'

Boot Girl is starting to feel some strength returning but knows it is of no use to her at present. She watches Stiletto manoeuvre a hoist above her and when the Angel returns she unclips the respirator and removes it from Boot Girl's face.

'Deep breath my little pink toy.'

Hannah glares at her but feels the terror of suffocation creep over her again and concentrates on taking a breath which she finds is easier than she expected.

'Bitch !' Her voice is no more than a whisper and the word finishes with a weak coughing fit.

'Really, you Bellanians are so rude. Not to worry, I have just the cure.' Stiletto holds up a pink leather head harness with a huge ball gag and heart-shaped pads to cover the wearer's eyes which she proceeds to fasten over Boot Girl's head.

'There. You look so pretty.'

Although she now has some strength to move Boot Girl is tightly restrained, securely gagged and blindfolded and so just as helpless as she was a few minutes before. She hears the rattle of chain and feels Stiletto fasten something to her head harness then, slowly she is lifted until she is standing upright.

The reinforced boots help her to stand and take some weight and are, surprisingly stimulating to her sex.

'Oh, you do look delightful. Though perhaps just a little decoration.'

I really don't think I'm going to like this.

Boot Girl feels some pressure on her left nipple and then something pulls down on it; this is followed by a similar sensation on the right one.

'You're my gift to Lady Simone. Her own Boot Slave Toy, complete with a full range of clothing and accessories; I'm particularly fond of the dress clamps for your nipples, they're heart shaped; then there's a butt plug with a tail in case she wants you to play Magic Pony; there's a gorgeous collar too; and a lovely little frilly pink camisole top and skirt that are so thin you'll hardly notice you are wearing them.' Stiletto pauses for effect. 'Come to think of it nobody else will either.'

As she speaks she unclips the chain from the top of Boot Girl's head and lifts her onto a slightly raised platform. Boot Girl can feel something firm behind her back and then there is the sensation of straps being tightened around her body across the shoulders, below her nipples, around her waist, and over her thighs; the top of her head harness is locked to a ring above her and her ankle cuffs are chained to something at her feet.

Although she cannot see it, Boot Girl is in a gift box just like a toy doll; beside her the accessories Stiletto has described are also displayed. One of the accessories is a steel pole that would come to about Boot Girl's chest height, the pole is on a metal stand and, also attached to the stand is an Angelisch heel bar, a raised steel rod on which a slave in heels can be perched so that the heels and pointed toes of her boots straddle the bar. It is an Angelisch version of the Bellanian slave pole.

'There's a display stand for you too.' Stiletto caresses the steel pole as she speaks. 'You'll love it. I know how fond you are of that cute butt, I'll ensure it's shown off to it's full potential.'

Stiletto smiles to herself and picks up a small pink card the size of an envelope, it is embossed with large gold letters that read 'Boot Slave' and underneath is written 'Play with me !'. The villainess clips the sign to Boot Girl's nipple clamps and closes the clear perspex door of the box that now contains Boot Slave.

Pauline is being punished. She kneels on the floor of her chamber with her wrists cuffed to her thighs and her elbows pulled tightly behind her back by a leather strap which forces her shoulders back and keeps her upright; a tight underbust corset constricts her waist and also ensures she maintains her posture; ankle cuffs strapped to her thigh cuffs keep her on her knees; her bondage is completed by a black leather hood to match the cuffs and corset, the hood has a large wad of leather inside which fills her mouth and a ring through the nostril holes which is currently clipped to a chain between two serrated nipple clamps, this latter arrangement ensures she keeps her head bowed in an appropriately submissive and penitent posture.

Adele has told her charge that she will spend the night in bondage and Pauline is thus surprised to hear the door of her chamber open. She hears the sound of footsteps, heeled boots, one confident, the other a little more hesitant and an image of her mother leading her tightly restrained lover on a nipple leash comes to mind. She wonders if Adele's punishment will reflect her own.

I hope she's going to get serrated clamps too !

She lifts her head slightly and feels the clamps bite into her nipples.

Clover ones, of course.

There is a pull on the chain between Pauline's nipples.

Ok, I didn't mean it. Don't tighten them anymore. I'll be a good girl.

She smiles despite the pain. Since the incident with Minx and her subsequent punishment followed by the 'forfeit' with Madam Bondage she has been enjoying increasingly submissive fantasies. The image of her kneeling helplessly in the corner of her mother's chambers comes to her mind again, it is, she knows, simply a transferral of the picture she has seen of herself being made to come in the lift.

She feels her sex moisten and is aware she is blushing inside the hood.

The tension on her nipples relaxes and she knows the nipple chain has been disconnected from the hood, gratefully she straightens her neck envisaging her mother glaring at Adele for using too strict a punishment.

Suddenly the clamps are removed from her nipples.

'Aaaaaahhh.' Pauline is glad she is gagged.

Nobody deserves that.

She can feel the hood being unstrapped and then it is pulled from her head, the sodden leather of the gag coming out of her mouth in a rush of saliva that runs down her chin and onto her breasts. Pauline blinks in the light working her aching jaw. She can see a figure before her in thigh boots and a purple hood, the girl's arms are behind he her back and a leash hangs from her nipples.

Hazel ?

Madam Bondage steps in front of her.

'Madam, this is an unexpected pleasure.'

'Spare me the pleasantries. Boot Girl has been taken.'

'Taken ?' Pauline struggles to focus beyond her immediate situation. 'Where ? By whom ?'

Madame Bondage glares are her. 'Whom do you think ? I thought you were brighter than your mother.'

I have spent the last three hours in punishment bondage. Give me a moment to think.

'La Donna ?'

'Got it on one. So, you'd better rescue her ?'

'Me ?'

'I have sworn an oath to your mother not to engage in Heroine style activities here in Harmony.'

'But...'

'Pauline, there is about to be a riot in the streets of Harmony, the only woman who can give the people the distraction they need is currently naked and helpless in the chief instigator's lair and, while I've little doubt you is enjoying some of the subtleties of her plight, we must all make sacrifices for things in which we believe. If you don't agree to help I will rehood you and do it myself although I expect it will land me in one of your mother's prisons.'

'Naked and helpless ?' Pauline cannot help smiling at the thought of Boot Girl squirming deliciously in tight bondage.

'Very, both.'

Perhaps I could play dominant too.

'And you want me to rescue her ?'

'Are you sure you weren't sent down from Brideshead ?'

'Sorry, but how will I get out of the palace ? I am a princess you know they keep an eye on me and I can't just climb out of my bedroom window.'

Madam Bondage smiles. 'It wouldn't be the first time you had been mistaken for Hazel.'

Pauline looks up at the helpless slave.

'Not the nipple cuffs !'

'I don't recall you complaining last time. In fact, if memory serves, you rather enjoyed the 'ordeal'.'

No, I'm definitely submissive.

'You have what I wanted ?'

'Oh, yes, my Lady.' Stiletto smiles confidently. She is standing by the large box containing the Boot Girl toy which she has had brought from the old customs house wrapped in dust sheets; as La Donna approaches the Angel pulls the sheet away to reveal the helpless toy that is Boot Girl.

La Donna's immaculate mask lifts for a moment in an expression of pure delight.

'Gift wrapped too !'

Fetish is impressed too, grinning delightedly; only Lash seems unmoved.

La Donna touches the tip of her whip to the back of Anastasia's knee and the hooded slave kneels obediently, then she approaches the helplessly packaged heroine.

'May I ?' La Donna indicates her desire to open the box. Fetish is hopping eagerly from foot to foot beside her.

'She is a gift for you my Lady. Your very own Boot Slave toy. I will unwrap her for you if you wish.'

La Donna regains a little more control. 'Thank you, Madam. Do the honours would you, Fetish ?'

Fetish opens the door, grinning lasciviously and begins to undo the straps holding Boot Girl inside the box; when she has finished she cannot resist toying with the sign hanging from Boot Girl's clamped nipples.

Stiletto picks a pink nipple leash from its compartment in the box. 'I suspect you'd like to use this. You will need to unlock her bridle and ankle cuffs.'

Fetish takes the leash and clips it to Boot Girl's nipple clamps then she crouches down and unfastens the clasp holding the heroine's ankle chain to the base of the box; she reaches up and repeats the process with the clasp above Boot Girl's head.

'Walkies !' Fetish gives the nipple leash a firm jerk and is rewarded with a muffled gurgle of protest from behind Boot Girl's gag.

'As you can hear, your new toy makes realistic noises. I understand she moans too when she is teased.'

Fetish turns to Stiletto. 'Madam, if I was rude to you yesterday I apologise. I am in awe of your...imagination.' She bows low to emphasise her sincerity.

Stiletto nods graciously.

Fetish pulls on Boot Girl's nipple leash a little more firmly and after a brief pause Boot Girl yields starting to shuffle forwards in the rigid toe boots. The heroine's progress is very slow despite Fetish's coaxing and it takes her almost a minute to step clear of her box.

'Perhaps Lash could help her along.' Stiletto suggests.

Lash nods. 'Madam.' She reaches into the box and picks up a thin leather discipline whip; the device is about four feet long and more of Angelisch design than Belladonian. Boot Girl is barely clear of the box and there is no room to swing the whip but Lash uses it to caress the smooth curve of Boot Girl's perfect and, currently, extremely vulnerable bottom.

Fetish gives a sharp jerk on Boot Girl's nipple leash. 'Come my little slave, you're not trying.'

With difficulty Boot Girl responds. By swinging her rigidly straight legs at the hip she is able to take rather awkward steps and manages to waddle clear of the box. A blow from Lash quickly followed by another makes her move a little more quickly and very unsteadily. Lash and Fetish continue to drive her faster and faster until she topples over, falling heavily in her rigid bonds.

Lash lifts her to her feet.

'If she is a little unsteady she does come with a stand.'

Fetish looks back at the box. 'An Angelish birching perch if I'm not mistaken.'

'You are well versed in the arts of discipline Fetish.'

Fetish smiles awkwardly.

'Unclip the nipple leash but leave the clamps in place.' Stiletto smiles cruelly.

Fetish does so and Stiletto turns to Lash. 'I was hoping to see an example of your prowess with the whip, Mistress Lash. I wonder if you would indulge me. Our toy has a much prettier pair of nipple clamps and the current ones need removing. Can you do it ?'

Lash grins, enjoying herself for the first time, and takes her own whip from her belt. She lets the coils fall, shakes the braided leather and then flicks her arm in a blur of motion; the tip of the whip snaps twice, Boot Girl gives a two muffled cries that are so close together they are barely distinguishable and the nipple clamps still attached to the label fly into the air.

Stiletto snatches the name tag from the air and presents it to La Donna. She turns to Lash. 'You are skilled.'

'Too easy.' Lash turns to Fetish. 'Fetish, do you still have that candle ? The one you used on the blonde with the big tits last night."

Fetish sniggers. 'On and in if I remember correctly. I always like to keep a little wax on hand, you never know when it will come in useful.'

'I wonder if you could set me up a couple of targets. You remember, like we did with the redhead in Kagan ?'

'I recall the episode.' Fetish smiles slyly. 'I expect the girl does too. I seem to recall you were very drunk that night and not as steady as you thought.'

'I'm sober today.'

Fetish takes the stub of a candle and a lighter from the pouch she carries slung across her shoulder. She holds the candle up. 'Left most of it on that blonde's tits. Wonder if it's come off yet ?'

'As she's cuffed and hooded in the hold of the flyer I doubt she's got around to removing it.'

Fetish grins and lights the candle and, when it is burning well holds it over Boot Girl's right nipple waiting for some molten wax to collect before tipping it up so that a large droplet falls onto the heroine's big nipple. Boot Girl gives a sharp hiss. Fetish continues to drip wax until Boot Girl's nipple is quite thickly coated then repeats the process with the left nipple before snuffing the candle; she then blows on the wax to dry it noting Boot Girl's nipple stiffening as she does so.

'Kinky slut isn't she ? Looks as if she's enjoying herself.'

Fetish waits a few moments then gently prods one of the wax coated nipples with one of the steel talons of her left hand.

'I think it's hard enough but let's just make sure. She takes an aerosol can from her pouch, shakes it and squirts it at the wax; a layer of frosting appears on the surface of the wax and momentarily on the pink flesh of Boot Girl's areole; the captive heroine gives a shudder and her waxed nipple hardens further; Fetish waits for the frosting on the wax to vanish then repeats the process with the other side.

'Ready ?'

Lash shakes the whip, steadies herself and then flicks it up; the ball of wax on Boot Girl's right nipple explodes into tiny fragments. Lash grins and draws the whip back for a second strike.

'May I ?' Stiletto rests her hand on Lash's arm and the southerner stiffens momentarily.

Fetish can see Lash's reaction and predict it's consequences; she hands her own whip to the Angel. 'Use this, Madam.'

'Thank you, Fetish.' Stiletto runs the whip through her gloved hands and cracks it once in the air then she turns towards the helpless Boot Girl whose right nipple is red and swollen; the Angel twists her wrist slightly and then strikes cracking the wax on Boot Girl's left nipple; a portion falls to the floor but a small section remains; the captive heroine gives a gagged squeal. Stiletto flicks the whip again removing the remaining wax.

Stiletto smiles. 'Looks like you win Lash. Perhaps we could do this again some time.'

'I'd be happy to give you lessons any time Madam.'

Stiletto frowns momentarily, her body stiffening and eyes flashing behind the ribbon mask, but then her face takes a firm smile.

'Are these the clamps you had in mind ?' Fetish interjects, holding up the heart shaped nipple clamps. 'They're a good weight.'

Stiletto nods and Fetish clips them on to Boot Girl's nipples.

'I'm going to enjoy playing with you back to Linden.' Fetish smiles mischievously, though I am going to have to get your tits done, I like something to grab hold of in a girl.'

Behind the blindfold and gag, Boot Girl scowls.

Madam Bondage has released Pauline and then the two of them have released Hazel briefly before restraining her in Pauline's place. Aside from her larger breasts, it would be easy to mistake the kneeling slave for Pauline although she realises the chance of anyone coming to check on her are small. Adele is, she imagines, currently stretched tightly and very naked across her mother's bed probably enjoying a little playful whipping before being forced (as if it were necessary) to please her mistress.

Pauline feels a pang of longing, envy even, for the adoration of a lover but can't quite decide whether she wants to be on top or bottom although currently the thought of her towering over a very naked and very helpless Boot Girl is dominant in her mind.

'My Lady !'

'Sorry, I was just wondering what to wear.'

Got to look my best. Don't suppose there's time to wash my hair.

'Your black leather boots and breeches would be appropriate, the bustier too. You will need a mask.' Madam Bondage produces a cowl similar to her own.

Pauline shakes her head. 'I'm not wearing that.'

Pauline recalls a masked ball at the Academy. She wore a cat mask, just moulded leather across her eyes and nose; she also, she remembers, wore a figure hugging semi translucent black bodystocking, slave boots, wrist cuffs (behind her back) and a jeweled collar; the collar was on the end of a leash and she was lead around for the entire evening by her 'mistress' (her very good friend, Tiffany) who wore a scandalously short leather skirt, leather corset, choker and thigh boots; as the evening progressed Pauline found herself taken advantage of more and more frequently, hands groping and teasing her, cupping her breasts (and even, on occasion, her sex), fingers teasing and tweaking her nipples and lips pressing themselves unbidden against hers; she finished the night in Tiffany's bed where she insisted on pleasing her 'mistress' after a short period of unprecedented boot worship on a particularly luxurious (and hard to clean) sheepskin rug.

'My Lady, it is imperative you give the matter your utmost attention.'

'Yes, of course.' Pauline retrieves the mask (but not the collar and bodystocking) from a drawer and pulls out her favourite bustier, breeches and boots which she stuffs into a bag. 'I'm ready.'

As Madam Bondage turns her into a replica of her slave, Hazel, Pauline does her best not to let herself become too aroused but it is difficult and she cannot help recalling her second experience of submission at the hands of the gorgeous Tiffany. On that occasion, Pauline was being punished, kneeling in the punishment stock, ankles locked in place and wrists pilloried beside her neck; she had been caned and then left, hooded and gagged, to contemplate the error of her ways; the cane that had been used to punish her hung from hoops clamped to her nipples as a further reminder, if any were needed, of her misdemeanor. She had heard footsteps, heels on the hard floor of the punishment room then felt the cane being drawn from the nipple hoops; she had not expected to be caned again but Madam Buxton was known as a stickler for the rules and Pauline had resigned herself to another dozen strokes or perhaps two. She had taken twelve when she heard the unmistakable sound of Tiffany's laugh and then felt the cane stroke rather than strike her bottom.

'It's gorgeous, you know. It just cries out to be caned.' The tip of the cane slid up her body across her flank to her breasts, gently pressing against them and causing them the swing when released. 'These are pretty good too. If I could get at them I'd love to cane these too.'

Pauline was shocked by the other girl's audacity but was in no position to argue and, as Tiffany continued to tease her with the tip of the cane, Pauline felt less and less inclined to argue.

Tiffany had finally removed Pauline's hood and, along with it her gag allowing Pauline a token scandelised 'We'll be punished !' before silencing her with a sharp blow to the buttocks and making her hold the cane in her teeth. Much to Pauline's delight, Tiffany had been wearing the dominatrix outfit she had worn to the ball and, as the kneeling princess watched the older girl had placed a low whipping stool in front of the stocks, retrieved the cane from her mouth and placed a gorgeous leather boot in front of her.

Pauline had needed only the minimum of permission to begin worshipping the shiny black leather with her tongue (if Tiffany had waited any longer she could have punished Pauline for being too eager).

Even, as Madam Bondage pulls the hood over her head the princess is reminded of the scent and taste of the shiny leather and how her eager tongue raked lasciviously over Tiffany's boot encouraged by intermittent blows of the cane to her bottom.

After a very long and diligent bout of foot worship, Tiffany had removed her foot from the stool and sat on it lifting her short leather skirt to expose her bare sex (Pauline recalled she had been wearing knickers at the ball - probably) to allow the Princess to push her tongue into a sex that was very hot and wet (not unlike the Princess'). It was it this point they had been caught; Madam Buxton, diligent as ever had returned to check on her charge and was surprised to find her with her mouth pressed against another girl's sex.

Both girls were put in punishment dress for two weeks; made to spend their days in tight restrictive corsets (neck and waist), boots hobbled at the ankles, tight chains locked through their sexes and clamps on their nipples; short chains between cuffs around their upper arms behind their backs held their shoulders back and gave them the minimum movement needed to take part in their lessons; at mealtimes they ate with their mouths from bowls on the floor; while at night they were hooded, their arms laced behind their backs into single sleeves and then they were chained to their beds.

Pauline perhaps could have argued that she had little choice in her matter but had accepted the extra punishment to which she had been sentenced and was surprised to find she was not as upset by the experience as she might have expected. Tiffany, on the other hand appeared to find it a dreadful ordeal and, even when they knelt together in the great hall at meal times and Pauline tried to offer her some comfort the other girl withdrew from her; from Pauline's point of view this was the only bad consequence of the incident. Towards the end of the fortnight Pauline had been waylaid by a group of senior girls who, in her restricted state had easily overpowered her, bound her wrists even more securely, hooded and gagged her and lead her by the nipples to a little used corner of the games field; there, on her knees, she had been used as a plaything; her breasts fondled and slapped, her nipples tweaked (she lost count of the times the clamps were removed and reapplied) and even bitten, her bottom spanked (until it was red and hot), and she was made to please them (several times each) with her tongue.

Pauline could and should have reported the girls who would probably have spent the next two weeks undergoing the punishment that had been meted out to her but she had not, partly so as not to escalate the situation and, partly because she had come twice during the ordeal; she had tried to tell herself it was the chain locked tightly between her legs rubbing her sex as she knelt between the girls (which in part was true) and the innate sexuality of having her breasts and nipples teased (albeit rather roughly) but in truth the incident had simply confirmed her increasingly submissive sexuality and, even as the girls had lead her back towards the academy by her nipples she recalled the disappointment of the ordeal being over.

A tug on her nipples draws Pauline back to the present and immediately into motion as she follows Madam Bondage obediently out of her chamber into the corridor leaving Hazel behind helplessly enduring her punishment. The thong begins to tease her sex immediately as she walks on the toe boots providing a physical reminder of the punishment at Brideshead.

She stumbles only once, climaxing as they enter the lift.

La Donna and Stiletto emerge from the side office of the warehouse where they have been meeting.

'Thank you, my Lady. Midnight will be fine.' Stiletto smiles and bows and La Donna turns to Anastasia who has been kneeling waiting for her; as before the slave is naked save her isolation hood and a breast leash. La Donna crouches beside the slave and cups one of the girls enormous breasts in her right hand; the heavy flesh bulging through the villainess' fingers as she squeezes; the huge nipple hardens immediately against her Mistress' palm. Like most southern slaves, Anastasia is kept in a state of constant arousal by a combination of conditioning and use of a compound called slave gel which, in Anastasia's case is massaged into her nipples and sex several times a day.

'My Ladies, I thought our new trophy should be properly displayed.' Fetish bows and gestures to a helpless Boot Girl who is now mounted on the Angelisch birching perch. The heroine is still dressed in the hot pink slave boots and matching bondage sleeves and remains otherwise naked aside from the head harness; she is displayed bent sharply forward at the waist so that her delightfully curved bottom is thrust out; the slave boots rest on the heel bars of the perch which emerge from the upright steel pole, the heels of her boots sitting on one side of the bars and the pointed toes on the other, the heroine's ankles are cuffed to the upright to stop her sliding her feet off the stand; the stiffened reinforced pink slave boots prevent her from bending her knees and the stiffened bondage sleeves keeping her arms straight by her sides are padlocked to the top of the boots; she is kept in place by the head harness clipped to the upright pole of the perch at what would be a little above waist height. The weighted heart-shaped clamps stretch her nipples and a pink bladed whip hangs from a clamp on her clitoris.

Fetish nudges one of the nipple weights and it swings drawing the clamped flesh with it. Boot girl gives a stifled cry of anger and pain.

'Well, if you're going to be rude, I'm going to have to whip you again.' Fetish picks up the whip causing another gagged expletive and strikes Boot Girl hard on the bottom. There is already a latticework of welts and bruises on Boot Girl's delicious rump attesting to Fetish's earlier efforts and the heroine's bottom is quite red. As Fetish begins to whip her again Boot Girl struggles frantically and continues to do so for a few strikes but can clearly do nothing to ease her situation and eventually stills, accepting her fate and recognising the effect that her struggles are having on the weights hanging from her nipples.

'Oh, Fetish. I have clearly misjudged you.' Stiletto is clearly impressed. 'We must get together next time I am in Linden.'

Fetish bows. 'Madam, you are most kind.'

'After the trouble she's caused I'm really going to enjoy making her my slave.' La Donna pauses in her teasing of Anastasia. 'Of course I am going to have to do something about those breasts, or rather the lack of them. Stretching them with those weights is great entertainment but I suspect hormonal enhancement would be more effective. What do you think ? Perhaps a double-G ? We wouldn't want to eclipse Anastasia here, would we. I remember when her breasts barely filled a G cup.' She squeezes Anastasia's breast again and feels the kneeling slave shudder as she climaxes. 'I'll expect one of you to condition her too.'

La Donna stands. 'Madam, I must depart. I have preparations to make. I'm sure Lash and Fetish can look after you.'

'Of course, My Lady.' Stiletto bows. 'I must confess I am intrigued to find out what Fetish accomplishes with your new toy.'

La Donna bends and pulls Anastasia to a standing position using her right nipple then leads the busty slave from the warehouse using her breast leash.

Madam Bondage stops the car two blocks away from the warehouse where Boot Girl is being held captive. Pauline is strapped into the passenger seat still hooded and restrained in the guise of Hazel. It is late evening and the warehouse district of Harmony's lower east side is deserted. The heroine climbs from the driver's seat and opens the wing door of the passenger compartment bending to unbuckle Pauline's seat belt then she guides the helpless princess out of the seat largely with the aid of the nipple leash. The heroine can sense Pauline's arousal, smell her musk and see the flush in her chest and erectness of her nipples.

I'm not sure a submissive heroine is what we need but perhaps it's just a phase.

Leaving Pauline standing at the side of the road, Madam Bondage retrieves the girl's bag with her hastily assembled heroine costume from the car and the she begins the release the princess.

'What are you up to, Lash ?'

Lash turns and Fetish notices her face is slightly flushed. The villainess's hand falls from the smooth curve of Boot Girl's bottom.

'I was planning to add a few more whip marks of my own.'

Fetish fights down the urge to press her partner further. 'Lucky our new toy has the appropriate accessory near at hand.' She gestures to the pink bladed whip once again hanging from the captive heroine's clitoris.

'Fetish, you know I don't like bladed whips; they're way to coarse. I think I might have a go with the discipline whip.'

'Yours is in the flyer. I'll fetch it if you like.'

'No. Perhaps I'll get it later.'

'Lash are you feeling alright.'

Lash sighs. 'It's just that... Well, I have rather enjoyed the challenge of her as an adversary.'

'She can be trained as a fighting slave.'

'It would not be the same. If I simply want to fight I can spar with Jezebel. Boot Girl has been...ak'an skre, I can't really translate it, an opposite, a mirror, one who completes...' Lash shrugs and Fetish claps her on the shoulder, a gesture she would never usually use with Lash.

'Come on Lash. We have a riot to organise.'

Boot Girl is exactly as Fetish has left her, utterly helpless, blindfolded and gagged, dressed in the thigh high pink slave boots and restrained in the stiffened bondage sleeves, she stands bent over displaying, to Pauline's eye, one of the heroine's two outstanding features. As she walks towards the helpless girl, Pauline takes in the delightful curve of her buttocks.

Gaia, I wish I could look that good. And that pink just screams sub slut.

As she approaches, Pauline can see the damage done by Fetish's whipping and without thinking reaches out to stroke the bruised flesh of Boot Girl's perfect bottom. The heroine voices her displeasure through the gag and Pauline quickly removes her hand, looking at her fingers as if they have betrayed her.

Professional ! Think professional.

Pauline studies the bondage for a few moments longer than necessary noting the heavy weights clamped to the helpless girl's nipples and the bladed whip hanging from her clit before, somewhat reluctantly, reaching down and unclipping the chain from the ankle cuffs to the upright; then she supports Boot Girl's weight and releases the chain holding the top of the heroine's head harness to the board.

'Up you come.'

Boot Girl groans as she straightens after so long in the flexed position and delivers a muffled string of expletives as the nipple weights and the whip hanging from her clit stretch her sensitive flesh in a new direction. Pauline lifts her off the heel bar producing more protest.

'This is going to hurt.' Pauline reaches out and, grasping both nipple clamps at once, removes them. Boot Girl performs a severely restricted dance of pain and then repeats it as her rescuer releases the clit clamp.

'..a. .ou ..yi.. .o .o .o .e ?' Boot Girl's tone is far from pleasant.

Pauline looks at the helpless girl and then down at the whip which is still in her hand.

'Well, I was here to rescue you, but if you'd rather stay here I can put you back and replace these clamps.'

'.o !' Boot Girl shakes her head.

'Good Girl. Now let's get out of here.'

I really should untie you.

Pauline smiles.

But I'm not going to.

Boot Girl's costume lies on the floor beside her. Pauline lifts the skimpy garment and holds it up then looks down at her chest and shakes her head. Smiling she throws the costume into the shadows then bends and lifts the helpless blonde over her shoulder, standing easily with Boot Girl's light frame. The heroine protests and Pauline gives her a quick slap on the bottom.

I could be a dominant.

Pauline squats and picks up Boot Girl's discarded jet boots and then with the semi-naked and helplessly restrained heroine balanced over her shoulder she strides towards the door.

Pauline has nearly reached the door to the street when she turns around a pile of crates and nearly runs into Fetish.

'Who the fuck are you ?' The villainess moves to bar Pauline's way.

'Cat Girl.'

Fetish raises a skeptical and heavily pierced eyebrow.

'More kitten than cat I'd say ! But whatever, that toy you've got there belongs to me. I suggest you give it back before I put you in a sack and drown you in the river.' Fetish drops taking a fighting crouch beckoning the new heroine towards her.

Pauline sets Boot Girl against the wall and puts down the boots. She stretches a little ostentatiously then springs at her opponent. Rather then avoid, Fetish simply raises her hand and it is only at the last minute Pauline notices the tazer glove Fetish wears; she just manages to avoid contact with it and the pair sprawl to the floor with Fetish struggling to bring the glove to bear in Pauline's bare skin.

Despite her advantage, Fetish is not a fighter and Pauline winds her with a sharp elbow to the ribs so she can roll clear. When Fetish stands, swinging the glove at Pauline the princess is ready and easily avoids the slow swipe, she catches the arm and drives the heel of her hand into Fetish's jaw. The villainess slumps and Pauline drops to pin her down but finds her opponent out cold.

Victorious, Pauline grins and stands up flushed with excitement. She bows to Boot Girl who, is still, blindfolded.

'Oh yeah !' Pauline punches the air before strutting over to the helpless Boot Girl and placing a hand over her shoulder to lean against the wall.

Oh, darling, I could so kiss you right now.

Actually, I really could.

She lingers for a moment with her lips inches from the helpless heroine.

'A.e .ou .oi.. .o u..ie .e ?'

Actually I'm planning to keep you like this.

'Yeah. Guess I'm going to have to.' She reaches behind Boot Girl's head and undoes the strap of the blindfold, pulling it free from the head harness to reveal Boot Girl's big blue eyes which blink once before her full lips curl into a broad smile around her gag.

I wonder how long I could keep you secret in my bedroom ? You could be my own little Boot Girl toy.

After a moment Boot Girl's eyes narrow.

'U..ie .e !' She struggles furiously.

'You really are cute.'

'.oo. ou. !' Boot Girl's eyes flick to one side.

'Ok, ok. I'm just teasing.' Pauline undoes the buckles of Boot Girl's gag and pulls the huge ball from the heroine's mouth.

'Loo. oud !' Boot Girl is shouting but struggling to articulate after being gagged for so long. Pauline turns to follow her gaze just in time to see Lash spring at her.

Boot Girl watches helplessly as Lash slams into her rescuer.

Bloody amateur. Nice body though !

Fortunately Pauline's reflexes are quick and she manages to twist just in time to avoid a blow that would have left her breathless and completely at Lash's mercy. Still completely helpless Boot Girl can only watch as Lash and Pauline roll together on the floor and it is only a few moments before Lash flips her opponent and comes out on top. Pauline is pinned down and as she struggles Lash pulls a thong from the tangle that make up her costume, looping it around the Princess' right wrist with practiced ease.

Boot Girl struggles frantically but cannot escape and and watches, a frustrated spectator, seeing Lash pull the princess' wrists together.

As she struggles, Pauline's right breast pops up out of her bustier.

Nice tits too. Perky nips.

Lash is occupied binding Pauline's wrists and Boot Girl sees her only opportunity. Waddling awkwardly in the toe boots with her legs forced straight Boot Girl looks like an ungainly automaton but with effort she manages to walk towards Lash and her victim; her hands are useless but she can use her legs and swinging her left leg in an arc she brings the heel down between Lash's shoulder blades with a satisfying thud.

The villainess topples over stunned for a moment but it is enough for Pauline to use her bound hands to push Lash off her.

'Glove !' Boot Girl is lying helpless on her back with her hands useless at her sides gasping for breath after the fall; as she speaks she looks at Fetish's unconscious form and Pauline follows he gaze.

'On it sister.' Pauline rolls towards the villainess as Lash rises stiffly to a crouch and springs after her. To reach the Princess, Lash must jump over Boot Girl and, as she does, Boot Girl lifts her legs tripping the leaping villainess. Lash tucks and rolls agily but is too close to the wall and lands awkwardly; as the villainess struggles to right herself, Pauline lifts Fetish's wrist and clamps her limp fingers around Lash's bare foot activating a charge form the tazer. The villainess stiffens once and goes limp.

'Thanks.' Pauline's smile is a little sheepishly but Boot Girl is stiff, bruised and aching now from her fall.

'Just bloody untie me, Lash could have taken you with one hand tied behind her back, actually, come to think of it probably both but you really don't want to meet the big boss on this level of Dungeon Bitch.'

Pauline sags and Boot Girl adds more kindly, 'Lash is tough, you did really well.'

'Thanks. Do you know where the keys to those locks are ?'

'Fetish's bag.'

Pauline stands and lifts her bound wrists pulling at the thongs with her teeth. As she does so Fetish groans. Pauline pulls the thong free and crouches, rolling Fetish on to her front and pulling her arms behind her; she quickly binds the dazed woman's wrists behind her and then flips the villainess over and rifles through her bag. She stands holding up the keys with a smile playing on her lips.

Ignoring Boot Girl she crouches over Lash and pulls another thong from the unconscious woman's costume which she uses to bind the villainess' wrists behind her. She repeats the process with Lash's ankles. Boot Girl looks on with rising exasperation.

'Not that I want to rush you my little closet dominatrix, but I'm still tied up and I'm a bit worried a crazy Angelisch bitch will come round that corner at any moment. I'd quite like to be at my best.'

With her opponents' wrists restrained, Cat Girl stands over the helpless heroine. 'You look very cute in pink.'

Boot Girl rolls her eyes and Pauline crouches unlocking the padlocks holding the heroine's bonds in place.

'I don't suppose you found my costume.' Boot girl is pulling on her boots and checking the fuel cells while Pauline binds Fetish's ankles.

Pauline hides a smile. 'No, just found your boots. We could go back and look for it.'

'No, it's ok. I've got another one at home.' Boot Girl just sighs, she is a girl not unused to going home naked.'

'You could wear our friend's rubber dress.'

Boot Girl looks down at Fetish and pulls a disgusted face. 'I'll go naked.'

'So who is the Angel ?'

'Don't know. Tall...blonde...corset...toe boots...'

'Well that narrows it down.'

'...a fucking sadist.'

Pauline smiles recalling her teachers at Brideshead.

'Have you finished being all dominant over there ?'

Pauline ties a final knot. 'Yes, that should hold them for a while.' Lash and Fetish are both hogtied and gagged.

'Come on.' Boot Girl straightens and starts off down the corridor at a trot. Pauline follows.

'Where are we going ?'

'I'm going home. I'm sure you have other damsels in distress to rescue.'

'Maybe we could team up. Boot Girl and Cat Girl.'

Boot Girl stops and turns. 'I'm quite happy with the way things are.'

'Why do you do it ?' Pauline tries not to show her disappointment.

'What ?'

'The whole heroine thing.' Pauline gestures to Hannah.

'It's kinda complicated.' Hannah turns away.

'Tell me.' Pauline reaches out and grasps Hannah's arm.

Hannah looks down in irritation.

'Sorry.' Pauline releases her hold.

'Someone's got to look after the little people.' Hannah's face flushes slightly as she says it.

'But...' Pauline's eyes widen in surprise and admiration, there is something about Hannah's tone that carries a genuine conviction. Both girls fall silent for a moment.

'Come on.' Hannah turns to move on.

'I could help you.' Pauline follows.

'No.'

Pauline stops crushed but can't resist a response directing her gaze at Boot Girl's ultra pert bottom. 'I could watch your back. It wouldn't be any trouble.'

'Spare me the one-liners. Are you sure you didn't find my costume. ?

'Quite sure.'

Boot Girl kicks the fire escape and the doors burst open and they emerge into the street right in the middle of a riot.


Part 6: Cat Girl (added: 2017/08/04)

The Goths are being driven back towards the waterfront towards by the line of police troopers who are advancing on the gang behind a wall of riot shields. Another line of troopers are facing the Devils, trying to press them towards the east side. Missiles fill the air, clattering off the plasteel shields and sparking on the rough road surface. A car burns behind the police lines and the smoke from it drifts down over the street driven by the breeze coming off the river.

A stone smashes into the open door of the warehouse and both Pauline and Boot Girl duck reflexively.

'Any suggestions ?' Boot Girl's voice expresses her frustration.

'You're the senior partner, I was hoping you might do something useful.'

'Like run out there naked and ask them to stop.'

'It would certainly get their attention. We could go back into the warehouse.'

'Yeah, and take on the Angelisch bitch.'

'Your choice, partner.'

Boot Girl gives a sigh of frustration. 'We're not partners !'

Pauline raises her hands. 'Ok, we're not partners, but as the more experienced heroine here so I'm asking you to suggest a way out.'

A stunned look crosses Boot Girl's face.

'Well...'

Another stone strikes the door from their right and as they look the other way they can see a small group of police troopers behind the main line pointing at them.

'Put you arms around me.'

'What ? Look, I'm mean I know you're grateful for being rescued but, under the circumstances...'

'I'm going to fly you out. Put your arms around my neck.'

Pauline blushes and awkwardly embraces the naked heroine then Boot Girl puts her arms around Pauline's waist. There is a roar and jerk on her body that is almost enough to make her let go but Boot Girl holds her tight and she finds herself being dragged up towards the rooftops.

There is rioting in pockets across Harmony, mostly it seems, related to the street gangs. In most places city troopers are gradually restoring order. When asked where she wants to be set down, Pauline points to the Palace District and Boot Girl duly lands by the front gate to the Palace with hangs open.

'Odd.' Pauline peers through the gate. The guard station appears empty.

'I don't think you're allowed in there, that's the palace.'

'What ?' Pauline turns. 'Oh, it's...' She stops herself realising Boot Girl hasn't recognised her. 'I think there's something wrong.'

'I don't care.' Boot Girl is anxious to go home and dress. 'I'm going home.'

'The rioters must have broken in. Mu... The Contesse could be in danger.' Pauline tries to keep herself calm.

'I'm naked.' Boot Girl gestures to herself.

'We really should do something.' Pauline is becoming desperate though she tries hard not to show it.

'I'm a wanted vigilante. I'm sure the Queen can sort herself out.'

'What about the Princess ? I'm sure she'd be very grateful. I understand she's very cute.'

'No.' Boot Girl starts to walk away.

'You leave then.' Pauline shouts at Hannah's back angrily. 'I'm going to take a look inside.'

Pauline opens the door to the guard station and peers in. The two guards are tightly bound and have heavy rubber masks over their faces. She finds it odd that they are not struggling.

She turns to shout to Boot Girl but finds the heroine standing just behind her and fights down the urge to hug her.

Boot Girl takes a look round the door. Both guards have respirators over their mouths and have been paralised in the same way as the heroine earlier in the day. They are still too weak to speak even when Boot Girl removes the respirator from the mouth of the one who as they watch manages to struggle slightly; the girl looks up at the naked heroine and tries to move her mouth after a few tries she gasps and Boot Girl is forced to replace the device.

They follow the short path through the grounds and find the entry door open too. The two guards inside the door are similarly helpless.

'I don't suppose we could stop so I could borrow a uniform of one of these two ?' Boot Girl is still naked apart from her boots.

The eyes of the guards lying before her widen in fear.

'Why don't we stop and go clothes shopping ?' Pauline's anxiety is mounting.

'You're not the one breaking into the palace in nothing more than a pair of boots.'

Pauline presses the call button for the lift but it does not respond. 'Must be a security alert.'

'You seem remarkably informed.' Boot Girl sounds suspicious.

'A Heroine has her sources. I know where the stairs are too.' She bends and takes an ID card from one of the helpless guards. She swipes it and keys in a code the pushes the door.

'I could fly up the outside.'

'Come on, it's only thirty three floors.'

Boot Girl rolls her eyes. 'You go first.'

'No, I insist.' Pauline can't suppress a smirk.

'Are you sure you couldn't find my costume ?'

'Quite sure. Come on if you're not chicken.' Pauline leads the climb at a run.

'Strange.' Adele looks at her mistress. 'The camera feed from your apartment has just gone down.' She sweeps her hand over the controls checking the system. 'Must be glitch.'

'We should be out there. I should be out there.' Contesse de Renee is unhappy about being confined to the security bunker beneath the palace.

'You know the security protocol, my Lady. I'm sure you are also aware that while the security alert is in place I am authorised to restrain you if necessary.'

'I'd like to see you try.' Although she is serious the Contesse cannot keep a hint of playfulness from her voice.

'You will stay here or I will shackle you.'

'But we can't just do nothing we have to find out what's happening in the apartment.'

'I'll send some guards.' Adele calls two of the Palace troopers over.

'Ask them to check on Pauline too.'

Adele activates the panel and the image of Pauline still kneeling, hooded and helplessly restrained in her chamber appears.

'She's fine.' Adele looks at the contesse.

'Have you ever thought you might be punishing her a little too severely.'

'Never.' Adele is confident in her reply.

'The guards could bring her here on their way back.'

'She's safer where she is. The door to her room is sealed.' Adele turns to address the troopers. 'Go and investigate the contesse's private apartment.'

'Yes, Madam.' The guards salute and Adele enters the security override for the lift.

Thirty four floors above the Contesse and Adele and, though she does not know it, still twelve above a rather breathless Boot Girl and Pauline, Stiletto overcomes the final lock and strides into the penthouse apartment of Contesse de Renee. She is familiar with the reception room though she has never entered it alone. She strides across the room and opens a door to one of the contesse's private rooms. Within are a number of glass cabinets, one of which displays a small gold statue of a naked woman, her wrists bound behind her back, a depiction of the torments of Gaia. It is the last work of Dominata Roderiga, Carrie Vaggio's lover and murderess, said to be a faithful representation of the artist just before she was killed. Stiletto smiles triumphantly and opens the case.

'Shit, it's the Angelisch bitch.' Boot Girl's voice is an alarmed and breathless whisper as she drags Pauline back into the stairwell from which they have just emerged. Pauline tries to peer round her as Boot Girl presses herself against the wall and struggles to regain her breath.

'What's she doing here in mu...in the royal apartments ?'

'I don't know.' Boot Girl's voice is a sharp and still slightly breathless hiss through her gritted teeth. 'Why don't you just go an ask her.'

Suddenly they hear the bell of the lift.

'She can't be here to pay a visit.'

'She had the riot arranged, she must have a reason.'

'What ?'

'Something I overheard while I was playing dolly.'

They hear the lift doors open and Boot Girl peers round again. As the lift doors open, Stiletto pulls the ribbon mask from her face and removes her choker before drawing one of her hairpins

As Boot Girl peers round the corner again two guards emerge from the lift.

'Fucking bitch. She deserves a good kicking for what she did to my nipples.' Boot Girl launches herself around the corner of the stairwell and hurls herself towards the Angel but before she can reach her Pauline grabs her legs tackling her to the floor. The pair roll sprawling.

'Are you crazy.' Boot Girl is irate. 'I could have had her.'

'That's Lady Devonshire, the Angelisch ambassadress not your mad Angelisch bitch.' Pauline is pinning the naked Boot Girl to the floor by virtue of her larger size. Her cat mask has been dislodged.

Stiletto looks down at them and appears slightly taken aback then looks at the two guards emerging from the lift in their black leather uniforms.

'Lady Devonshire you should not...? The more senior of the guards looks in confusion at the situation. Then looks down, her confusion doubling. 'Lady, Pauline ?!'

'I came to check on my mother...' Pauline says the first thing that comes into her head. She gestures to Boot Girl 'I caught her trying to attack Lady Devonshire.'

'Hey...' Boot Girl is as confused as the guards.

'Lady Devonshire. You must be aware the palace is in lock-down because of the riot.'

'I came to the palace for safety. I found the guards unconscious and bound. It seemed only right to attend upon the Contesse.' Stiletto's composure is perfect as she resheathes the hairpin.

'Indeed, Madam, though it is not protocol at such a time.'

'Forgive me. I am being strange to your ways.' Stiletto's accent has become more pronounced and her slip is noticeable.

'Indeed, Madam.' The guard bows slightly aware of the sound whipping Adele will administer for any breach of protocol but also aware of the need to respect the quirks of foreign dignitaries, especially seven foot blonde Angelisch ones. Somehow she cannot recall a session in her training to cover this particular situation.

'And why is she here ?' The other guard points to Boot Girl.

'Must have come in during the riots. If you'll lend me your cuffs I'll restrain her and take her to the cells.' Pauline places her knee against Boot Girl's back and holds out her hand to the guard.

'Er...!' The guards are both way out of their depths.

'That was an order corporal.'

'Yes, my Lady.' The guard removes her shackles from her belt and passes them to Pauline who cuffs Boot Girl's wrists and elbows behind her then shackles her ankles.

'And now perhaps you could escort Lady Devonshire to safety.'

'Yes, Ma'am.' The guards are happy with clear orders.

'No !' Boot Girl begins to struggle. 'She's not Lady Devonshire, she's an impostor...'

'Corporal, do you have a gag ?'

'Couldn't you have come up with anything better ? Something that didn't involve me ending naked and in bondage ?' Boot Girl struggles in her bonds as they wait for the lift's return.

'Such as...' Pauline looks at the naked and helpless heroine unable to prevent a smile from curling the corner of her lips.

'I don't know. We met in a bar, we danced, we kissed, you brought me back for a night of passion...?'

'I'm a princess. I don't get to go clubbing very often.'

'And that's another thing. You could have told me who you were.'

'Don't worry, I'll sort it out.'

'Yes, but in the mean time, I'm once again, naked and in bondage. It's getting to be a habit with you around.'

'I could put the gag back if it would make you feel more comfortable.'

There is silence while Pauline retrieves her cat mask.

'I'm sure that Angel was the bitch from the warehouse.'

'Lady Devonshire, the Angelisch ambassadress ? I don't think so. Bit odd to see her in red though.'

'I tell you, she's a fucking psycho called Stiletto. She drugged me and presented me to La Donna in exchange for starting the riots.'

'I really can't imagine Lady Devonshire doing that. She's very straight-laced, they all are. I mean they're kinky in the privacy of their own homes...and dorms...' She smiles wistfully. 'Not that I'm into Angelsich girls, of course... I prefer...er...'

A bell announces the lift's arrival saving Pauline's blushes.

Come on.' Boot Girl shuffles awkwardly into the lift. Pauline follows taking Boot Girl's arm to show she is in control. As she presses the button she reaches up and hangs the mask over the lift's camera.

'Every princess has her own doll then.' Boot Girl raises an eyebrow as she takes in the kneeling figure of Hazel still helplessly restrained in the corset, cuffs and hood.

'Oh, her.'

'Yes, her. The semi-naked girl with the impressively augmented breasts kneeling obediently awaiting her mistress' return.'

'Actually I'm not her mistress. It's a bit complicated really.' Pauline looks round. 'Are you jealous ?'

'No, I'm perfectly happy with my breasts.'

'I meant...' Pauline looks down at Boot Girl's chest. 'Oh, never mind.'

'Look, are you going to take these cuffs off ?'

'Maybe.' Pauline still gives up trying to suppress her smile. 'Depends if you're a good girl.'

'Do you enjoy keeping naked girls chained up in your apartment ?'

'Don't you ?'

Boot Girl gets suddenly defensive. 'Occasionally.'

'Perhaps you prefer to have them chain you ?' Pauline's smile broadens into a smirk and she steps towards the heroine, looking down at her.

'Sometimes.' Boot Girl can feel herself beginning to blush but Pauline doesn't seem to notice.

'You have to help me release Hazel.'

'Gonna put me there instead ?'

'Would you like me to ?'

'Actually I'd quite like to go home, have a shower, put some cream on my very sore nipples and, perhaps, even put some clothes on.'

Pauline ignores her, crossing to the bedside cabinet, where she pulls open the drawer, drops her cat mask in and rummages among the contents which, as far as Boot Girl can see some rather kinky looking rubber garments, some restraints, a gag, some punishment devices including a tazer and some nipple clamps and a couple of electronic toys.

'Got it.' Pauline holds up a key in triumph. 'Let's hope this fits.'

The key unlocks Boot Girl's cuffs and, as she is freed, the heroine rubs her wrists.

'Now, help me with Hazel.' Pauline starts to unbuckling the kneeling slave's elbow cuffs. With her elbows freed the girl's huge breasts fall forwards which in turn pulls on her clamped nipples forcing her to bow her head further and what is a beautifully submissive gesture.

'Undo her hood for me.'

'Why are we doing this ?' Boot Girl's starts to unlace the kneeling girl's hood.

'I'm trying to get you out of here.'

'Like you tried to get me out of the warehouse.'

'You're here aren't you ?'

'Oh yes. Great. I'm naked in the princess' bedroom, the place is on high security alert and you're playing bondage dolls.'

'Hazel is a decoy. Look, you'll have to trust me.'

'Ok.' Boot Girl grudgingly agrees and continues to unlace Hazel's hood.

Madam Bondage's slave kneels submissively as she is released, barely grimacing even when the heavy clamps are removed from her big nipples.

'Go to your mistress' chamber and wait for her.'

Hazel nods but doesn't speak.

'Nice butt too.' Boot Girl watches the naked slave crawling to the door and out into the corridor then turns to the princess. 'So what happens now ?'

'You have to put me in her place.'

'What ?'

'Dress me in the corset then cuff and hood me.'

'And how exactly is this going to keep me out of trouble ?'

'It's not but it is going to keep me out of trouble.' Pauline is unclipping her bustier and as Boot Girl watches she sheds the garment before stepping out of her leather shorts.

'Both naked save for boots.' Pauline winks and pouts.

'Nice !' Boot Girl cannot help but admire Pauline's naked form with it's slim waist and large breasts.

Pauline looks down and pushes her chest out just a little. 'You can stay and play if you like. I have plenty of toys.'

Boot Girl smiles a little self-consciously. 'Yes, I can see that.'

Suddenly they hear a noise in the corridor and Pauline bends down and removes her boots; once naked she picks up the leather corset and fits it around her waist turning to allow Boot Girl to buckle and tighten the straps. When she is satisfied with the tightness she bends awkwardly to retrieve the wrist and thigh cuffs which are still linked. Boot Girl buckles these in place and then fastens the elbow cuff.

'Make sure they're very tight.'

'Are you enjoying this ?'

Pauline turns to face Boot Girl, the princess' large breasts are pushed forward prominently. by her bondage. 'It's not everyday a girl gets restrained by a Heroine.'

'Don't expect it to become a habit.' Boot Girl can't resist a smile as she crouches to apply the ankle cuffs.

As Boot Girl stands, Pauline pushes herself towards the naked heroine thrusting her breasts out even further. 'Are you sure I can't tempt you to stay a while ?'

There is another noise in the corridor.

'Tempting but I think I'd better get out of here as soon as I can.'

'You are a sub aren't you ?'

'Look, I'd love to stay and play with your...toys they're...very...nice...but I really think I should go.'

'So you are dominant ?'

'Can we get on with this ?'

'You'll have to hood and gag me first.' Pauline lowers her voice to a sexy whisper. 'I'm pretty sure I'm submissive myself.' She pushes her breasts against Boot Girl's body. 'And I'm completely helpless. You could practically do anything you wanted to me.'

'Turn around.'

'Ooooh. I love it when you tell me what to do. Do you want me to bend over too ?'

'Just kneel down.'

'Yes, Mistress. I bet you're really dominant.' Pauline kneels.

'Look...'

'Oh, please don't tell me you're submissive.'

'Will you shut up ?'

'I'll have to if you gag me.'

Boot Girl picks up the hood and pulls it over Pauline's head, pushing the gag into her open mouth before tightening the lacing the laces.

'I suppose I have to add the nipple clamps for authenticity.'

Pauline nods vigorously; hooded, kneeling and restrained the princess is the picture of perfect submission.

'Well, if you insist.' Boot Girl crouches and lifts the heavy flesh of Pauline's right breast, it is very firm and warm and as she handles it the nipple becomes stiffly erect. This intimately, Boot Girl can see the remains of bruises from Pauline's whipping and despite her desire to flee, the heroine cannot resist the urge to tease the large dark nipple with the clamp before applying it. The princess gives a low moan and Boot Girl can see a flush coming to the kneeing girl's chest.

'Oh no you don't.' Boot Girl lets the steel jaws close around the swollen nipple.

Pauline's sigh is one of pleasure.

Boot Girl repeats the process with the other nipple.

Well, she did fondle my butt.

Finally she clips the thigh cuffs to the ankle cuffs and stands back to look at the helpless princess.

Maybe I could be just a little bit dominant.

There is a knock at the door and Boot Girl hears Adele's voice. 'Just open it she's in punishment restraints.'

The heroine runs to the window, opens it and leaps out, launching herself, naked save for boots into the sky.

'She's very dangerous.'

Boot Girl startles nearly losing her balance on the high ledge.

'You !'

'Indeed.' Madam Bondage bows. 'A pleasure. Lady Roberta Bishop at your service.'

'You're the one who's been following me.'

'You do have an unfortunate habit of stating the obvious.' Madam Bondage's voice is calm and measured, her face unreadable. She speaks with the slight softness of a native Nordish speaker.

'What do you want ?'

Madam Bondage regards her cooly. 'To keep you out of trouble.'

'You haven't done a very good job so far.'

'No, indeed. You do seem to have a propensity for losing your clothing and your liberty. However, you are, once again, clothed and unchained and, to some degree, 'active'.' Madam Bondage turns to look across the city. 'You have a disproportionate loyalty to your fellow citizens for a stripper.'

'Erotic dancer !'

Madam Bondage acknowledges the correction with a gentle nod. 'There are few these days who would put themselves in the line of fire be they 'erotic dancer' or princess.'

'Someone's got to do it. Anyway, what's it got to do with you ?'

'I was once someone who once 'stood in the line of fire' as your old expression has it. A Heroine like yourself.'

Boot Girl frowns. 'Looks to me like you could still be.'

'I made a promise to the Contesse de Renee.'

'You were involved in the hostage thing ?'

'Indeed.'

'You're Destiny ?'

'No.' Madam Bondage smiles ruefully. 'But I was there. She was...part of our Sisterhood.'

'So why are you here ?'

'I might ask the same question.'

'I asked first.'

'You can be very tiresome.'

'Perhaps I don't like being followed.'

'Like I said, I am trying to protect you. If you do not wish to confide in me, perhaps you will accept some advice.'

'Maybe.' Boot Girl wraps her arms around her chest and looks down at the street far below. For a moment she contemplates leaping off and flying away.

'I cannot fly like you, but I am as diligent as the ice bear in my pursuit.'

How did she know what I was thinking ?

'Just say what it is you have to say.'

'Stiletto is very dangerous. You are a match for La Donna's stooges and might outwit La Donna herself though more by your...unpredictability, I suspect, than your tactics; but I warn you not to confront the Angel.'

'Tell me something I don't know.'

'Beth is an agent of Stiletto.'

Boot Girl looks away.

'I see you had already realised that.'

'Yeah, I guess so.' She looks up and grins. 'Good kisser though.'

Madam Bondage cannot help but smile in return.

'You are strong and, I think will make a worthy heroine.'

'Will make ?' Boot Girl stretches out her hands. 'Lady, I am one.'

'My Lady might be more appropriate though I would accept Madam.' Madam Bondage's stare seems to transfix Hannah. 'I would suggest you need a little more training yet.'

'And who's going to train me ? You ? I have a fighting mistress.'

'And a worthy one at that. She has done a creditable job but the role of heroine requires more than the ability to fight.'

'It seems to serve me pretty well.'

'Do you play chess, Hannah ?'

'That's 'Boot Girl' when I'm in colours, Hannah when I'm...working.' And how did you know my name ? 'Yes, someone in the pony troop showed me how when I was a kid.'

Shit ! Why am I telling her this ?

'You should play more.'

'That's your advice ? Play more chess ?'

Madam Bondage shrugs. 'Yes. Perhaps you would do me the honour of a game one day soon.'

'Oh, sure, I'm likely to be passing through the north. I'll just knock on the door of your castle or whatever and say 'remember me, we met on that rooftop, we chatted we schmoozed, we...'

'Do not mock me, Hannah Pink ! I have broken women for less.' The chill in Lady Bishop's voice is a sharp contrast to the deep warmth of a moment before.

Fuck !

'I'm...sorry.' Hannah shifts awkwardly, embarrassed and, frightened. 'I have stuff to do.'

'Your apology is accepted.' The smooth charm with it's northern burr has returned but Boot Girl has already leaped into the air and fired her boots.

Behind her Madam Bondage smiles.

Boot Girl's comm bleeps and the heroine opens her eyes.

Fuck !

Sunlight streams through the window of her bedroom and she blinks at its brightness.

The comm continues to bleep and she rolls over scanning the floor to find it tangled in a silk stocking. She pulls the device free and activates it.

'What the fuck sort of time do you call this ?'

'Most would call it lunchtime.' Pauline de Renee's face appears on the screen.

'How d'you get this number anyway.'

Pauline rolls her eyes. 'My governess is head of city security, it's not that difficult for me to find things out.'

'Don't we have civil liberties in this city ?'

'Sometimes.' Pauline shrugs. 'Listen, we have to meet I...Are you with someone ?'

Hannah turns to see what has caught Pauline's attention. A pretty northern girl lifts her head, copper curls in tousled disarray, her huge blue eyes blinking away sleep; a black leather head harness holds a rubber coated bit gag in her mouth and there is a matching collar buckled around the creamy freckled skin of her throat.

'Care to introduce me ?' Pauline takes a moment to study the girl's pretty, freckled face and dreamily satisfied expression.

'Not particularly.'

'You can remember her name can't you ?' Pauline's face takes on a frown.

'Of course. This is Angnetha.'

The northern girl frowns and shakes her head, blue eyes widening.

'Look. Do you mind if we talk privately ?'

'She doesn't understand much Bellanian.' Hannah pauses. 'Can't we do it later. As you can see I'm a little busy.'

Behind her the northerner is struggling against the slave sheath that binds her arms; as she sits up the bedcovers fall away to reveal small pert breasts with red nipples, both sporting sprung silver clamps from which dangle little silver bells.

'Ok. Perhaps you could call in on me later or wait...perhaps I could send a security detachment to have you brought here in chains.' The princess emphasises the last phrase, the sarcasm in her voice obvious.

'Alright, give me a minute.' Hannah swings her legs out of bed feeling a wave of nausea and, for the first time, the throbbing in her head caused by the alcohol she consumed in the club where she met...

Angnafred ? Gaia ! I've got to cut down.

'Twe miuntei.' She turns to...

Angaleese ?

Naked she staggers into the kitchen.

'Nice !'

'What ?' Hannah looks down to see she is holding her wrist comm with the little camera pointing down her body. 'Do you mind ?'

'I don't if you don't.' Pauline appears lascivious.

'What do you want ?' Hannah hisses tetchily into to comm lifting it to point at her face.

'Oh, you need a good cleanse.'

'You've just get me out of bed.' Hannah pulls the comm away from her face to a middle distance that shows her face in less detail but not her body. 'We don't all have hot and cold running servants to beautify us in the morning.

'You need to get a cleaner !' Pauline takes in the chaotic backdrop of Hannah's kitchen.

'Are you going to tell me what you want ?'

'I don't really want to discuss it over the comm system.'

'Now you tell me.' Hannah rolls her eyes.

'Look, there's this part of the roof of the palace that's a blind spot for the security system. Beside the airconditioning duct. I go there to...' Pauline smiles to herself. 'Anyway, can you meet me there ? I'll be waiting. If you drop straight in above me you shouldn't be seen. Can you get there by three ?'

Hannah looks up at the clock on the wall and then back at the screen.

'I'm not sure I want to come at all.'

'I did rescue you !'

'Ok.' Hannah sighs. 'But this had better be good.'

'You'll be impressed, partner.'

'We're not...'

Pauline cuts the connection and Hannah turns to see the northerner teeter in with hobbled steps, the redhead does not look best pleased and screams a torrent of gagged abuse at the petite blonde, spittle flying from her gag.

'Ok. Calm down. Plezen ye !' Hannah struggles with her limited vocabulary and flaps her hands at the girl. The gesture seems to have quite the opposite effect from that intended on the irate redhead and she swings wildly at Hannah with her sheathed arms. Hannah ducks the blow but several days' unwashed crockery is less fortunate and scatters across the floor much of it smashing in the process.

'Now look what you've done.'

'.o...e. .e. .e.e.e. .e !'

'Ok. Just don't break anything else.' Hannah tries to avoid the shards of pottery with her bare feet but the northerner doesn't seem to care and launches herself at the naked heroine. The two girls tumble in a mass of bare flesh and red hair with the redhead trying to bite Hannah around her gag.

'Just...stop it !' Hannah screams at the furious girl struggling to gain any advantage over her in the tight confines of the kitchen despite the freedom of her limbs. The northerner is larger than Hannah and far stronger but eventually, the blonde manages to grasp a handful of hair and pull the squirming, kicking redhead off her, finally succeeding in rolling her over to sit on astride her. There are several cuts on the girl's body from the scattered shards of crockery but neither this nor her bondage seems to be preventing her from venting her fury and she arches up trying to unseat the pert blonde. Hannah leans down holding the sides of the girl's bridle and looking into her wild blue eyes.

'Plezen ye ! I wor relese ye !'

The girl stills and Hannah releases the clip holding the bit gag between her teeth. As it is comes away the girl lets rip a torrent of Nordish which exceeds Hannah's knowledge of the language's expletives, contains something about her 'fucking the brunette on the comm' and ends with some rather hurtful comments about the Bellanian's sexual technique.

'I guess make-up sex is out of the question then ?'

Hannah is unsure whether the girl understands what she has just said but a further torrent of Nordish abuse follows and Hannah begins to release the slave sheath. When she is free the girl scrambles out from under the petite blonde, releases her own ankles and, ignoring the broken crockery, strides purposefully from the little kitchen pausing only to rip the bells from her nipples and turn to hurl them at Hannah.

A moment later the redhead has gathered her robe and her stockings. It was Hannah refflects the absence of any other clothing in the club being largely what attracted her to the redhead in the first place. Slipping on her boots, the girl leaves the flat without any further attempt to dress. Her final shot is easy for Hannah to translate, being lesson one in any language class and concerns her name being Marta.

It is just a few moments after three when Hannah drops from the clear blue sky above the palace to land gently between the airconditioning vent and Princess Pauline.

'Cool entrance.' The princess is dressed in her usual choice of leather bustier and driving breeches tucked into knee boots. She stands with her shoulders back and chest thrust out, a crop held firmly in both her hands pulled against her tautbuttocks. Her bustier is a little lower cut than her usual ones and designed to show off her impressive cleavage rather than restrain it and, Hannah notices, she is wearing make-up: dark eyeliner and mascara that enlarge her deep brown eyes and soft pink gloss on her full lips.

'So, what do you want ?' Hannah is unsettled by the princess' appearance, her aloof stance, the crop.

Gaia, why can't I find a dominant who looks like this ?

'I've been thinking about the other night and I'm pretty sure who's behind all this.'

'Cool entrance !' Couldn't you come up with something more original !

Hannah shrugs. 'So ?'

'So, if we know who's coordinating all the robberies we can stop her.'

'Isn't that a matter for the city troopers, your majesty.' Boot Girl's final clause is laced with heavy sarcasm and from the princess' reaction she has clearly struck a blow against the brunette's confidence.

'It's potentially a delicate situation but I don't suppose someone like you would understand diplomacy !'

Shit ! I'm sorry, I really am.

'Fine, well, if you don't want help from a commoner go and be diplomatic yourself.'

Or you could just order me to my knees and make me...

'La Donna. She's called La Donna.'

'Southern mafia. So ?' Hannah has spent much of her childhood traveling in the south and is familiar with the term.

'No, I think it is La Donna.' Pauline emphasises the 'La'. 'The Donna the Lady of Linden, Queen Simone.'

'Queen ?'

'Vassal ruler.'

'There you go again. Can't expect a commoner to understand the complexities of you ladies and demoiselles.'

'La Donna is a...sub queen...to my mother...well, not a sub, very definitely dominant but she is beholden...she governs on behalf of the House de Renee. That's to say...she is a vassal...'

'Ok, I get it. She works for your mum and does what she's told or at least is supposed to.'

'Only she's not.'

'But she's a queen, she must be rich. She'd hardly be stealing stuff.'

'Do you really not know anything about government, affairs of state ?'

'I grew up in a pony troupe.'

'So if I said 'two houses both alike in dignity...from ancient grudge break new mutiny' would you have any idea what I was talking about ?'

'Didn't get to study a lot of poetry in the troupe.'

'Actually its... Never mind.' Pauline's eyes narrow. 'Were you a pony ?'

'What ?'

'A pony. Did you get to be harnessed, bridled ?'

'Sometimes, not often...a bit more towards the end before I... What has this got to do with it ?'

'Just curious.' Pauline smiles disarmingly clearly feeling more comfortable. 'We could go downstairs and relive old memories together if you'd like to. The palace has a pony track in the basement.'

'They're not the sort of memories I want to relive.'

'I'll play pony if you like...'

'No !' Boot Girl raises her voice more than she means to.

'I'm sorry.' Pauline glances round though there can be nobody to overhear them. She can sense Boot Girl's reluctance to discuss the subject.

Hearing the brunette apologise so quickly and apparently genuinely has a calming effect on Hannah.

'So what is it you want to tell me ?'

'Like I say, La Donna is behind all the robberies and probably most of the abductions as well. I think she's trying to destabilise the city, create chaos. Donia has campaigned for independence for years. I think La Donna is trying to make it happen.'

'What about the Angel-bitch ?'

'Lady Devonshire ? I really don't think...' Pauline seems genuinely amused.

'Well, I do !' Hannah's voice gets louder again. 'I think she's a scheming dangerous bitch...'. She recalls her meeting with Madam Bondage.

'What about 'Jaguar' ?'

'No.'

'Leopardess ?'

'No, I like 'Cat Girl'.'

'If you say so.' Boot Girl shrugs. 'I like the new costume.'

Pauline smiles. 'Yeah, I thought it needed something a bit more...you know ?' She is wearing the bodystocking under her bustier and has changed her leather breeches for leather briefs.

'Not sure about the collar.'

Pauline's fingers go to her throat and brush the studded collar.

'Too submissive ?'

Boot Girl shrugs. 'Maybe.'

'So, you never told me.' Pauline keeps her tone conversational. 'Are you sub or dom...or bi ?'

'Why are you so keen to find out ?'

'Oh, come on. Every girl wants to know these things.'

They are crouching in the rafters of the warehouse in which Boot Girl was held prisoner before being rescued by Pauline. From where they are hiding, the birching perch the pert blonde was tied to and the rest of her 'accessories' in their pink box are clearly visible.

They hear the main door of the warehouse open and Boot Girl holds a finger to her lips. Pauline stills and they watch Lash and Fetish carry in a gagged, tightly bound brunette below them, stowing her in the hold of the flyer that is parked in the corner of the warehouse. The villainesses exchange some banter which mostly involves the Fetish's plans for the kidnapped women they are taking back to 'the Chateau'.

'I think they're talking about Chateau Klaw, Lady Simone's residence in Linden.'

'I know what they're talking about.' Boot Girl hisses. 'Will you shut up.'

The door opens again and a moment later La Donna appears leading the naked, hooded Anastasia on her breast leash. Lash bows formally and Fetish nods.

'La Donna.'

'Do you have her ?'

'Yes, she's in the hold of the flyer with the others. They'll fetch a good price when I've conditioned them.'

'Our little riot last night wasn't wasted then. You have the drugs packaged for me ?'

'Yes, La Donna. We could distribute them to the gangs.'

'No. It's something I prefer to do myself. It is good public relations for a monarch to bestow her own gifts and for her pets to be clear which is the hand that feeds them.'

'Yes, La Donna.'

'I'm sure the pair of you can find something to amuse yourselves with.' La Donna looks at the flyer.

'Several things, actually.' Fetish grins.

Suddenly Pauline's comm goes off, her ringtone loud, echoing through the warehouse.

'What the fuck !' Boot Girl mouths the words, her face a pantomime of horror then looks down to see the villainesses below. La Donna points towards them, Lash has already reached the wall and is scaling a ladder of steel rungs set into it, Fetish has drawn her tazer.

Pauline smiles as disarmingly as she can, her face flushing. 'A girl has to keep in touch. What do you do with yours ?'

'I leave it behind !' Boot Girl speaks more loudly than she means to but there is no need for stealth now. 'Stay here and keep out of my way.' The heroine leaps from the rafters and fires her boots as a tazer blast flashes past her.

Gaia ! If I end up in those pink restraints again I'll kill that girl, princess or not.

Boot Girl drops willing the distance between her and Fetish to close before the rubber clad villainess can reprime the weapon. Above her she is aware that Lash has reached to top of the ladder and is using her whip to swing between the roof joists.

The kitten's going to get pulverised if she doesn't fall to her death first.

Boot Girl flips in the air and dives at Fetish using her boots to increase her speed.

Of course I might just get myself killed first.

At the last minute La Donna shoves Fetish to the side and dives clear herself.

Fuck ! The last thing I need is an opponent who really can fight.

Boot Girl curves her flight and, looking up sees Lash hopping gracefully across the roof joists as if they were stepping stones. Pauline looks much less comfortable and when the brunette slips Lash catches the girl's wrist with her whip, swinging round a vertical beam to land a blow in the girl's belly; Pauline teeters for a moment then falls.

Gaia !

Pauline's fall is broken by Lash's whip and she dangles by her right wrist.

Phew !

Then Fetish's tazer blast hits Boot Girl straight in the chest.

Boot Girl is hanging by her wrists and she it naked.

Pink leather cuffs separated by a short spreader hold her arms above her head and her ankles are similarly restrained, the pink hearts are back on her nipples; a large ball gag fills her mouth.

Pauline kneels beside her, the brunette is still clothed and has her wrists and elbows cuffed behind her back; the leather cuffs are joined to a chain that runs down her back from the D-ring on her collar to ankle cuffs, keeping her on her knees; a harness around her head keeps her blindfolded and gagged.

La Donna has departed, taking Anastasia with her and leaving the captive heroines to the tender mercies of Lash and Fetish.

'So do we drown the kitten in a sack in the river ?' Lash grins.

'She's likely to fetch more of a price than the flat-chested pixie.' Fetish looks up at the helpless heroine who glares down angrily and shouts an expletive through her gag. 'Can't see anyone wanting her.'

'They say she has a cute butt.' Lash indifferent tone is clearly affected. 'Could always use hormones to...enhance her.' The petite villainess shrugs and turns away from her partner. 'They say the tongue stud makes things more pleasurable...or we could leave her behind. I don't care.'

'If you want her Lash, you can have her, but you'll have to keep her chained up all the time. I can't see her being easy to train.'

'I like a challenge.' Lash lets the coils of her whip fall and Boot Girl rolls her eyes.

Look, blondie ! I know you can take these nipple clamps off with your little toy there but let's just take that as read shall we ?

'Your welcome to it but don't come crying to me when she knees you in the crotch or bites your nipple off.' As she speaks, Fetish crouches in front of Pauline. 'You, on the other hand, my sweet, will make a perfect little pleasure slut. A little enhancement here and there and a few week's conditioning and you'll be hotter than you can imagine. Then I can sell your for a small fortune.' She slips her hand inside Pauline's bustier and cups the helpless girl's large breast. 'After I've thoroughly enjoyed what you have to offer, of course.'

'Oh ! Very nice !' Pauline's nipple has stiffened against the villainess's palm. 'Submissive already. I might even have to keep you.'

Pauline's blushes furiously and Fetish smiles.

'Oh, good girl ! Coy and kinky and a cute body too ! I'm really going to enjoy training you.' Fetish lowers her voice a little further. 'By the way, I love the outfit, total nudity is so over-rated don't you think ? Though I might just leave a little less to the imagination.' Fetish removes her hand from Pauline's breast and undoes the kneeling girl's bustier, stripping the garment away to allow Pauline's large breasts to take their more natural shape; outlined by the bodystocking. 'This is a delightful touch too.' The material has little peepholes for Pauline's nipples, little rubber rings sewn in that gently pinch their bases making them stand erect; Fetish traces the left one with her finger and watches it stiffen.

'I wonder.' The villainess slips her hand down the front of Pauline's leather knickers, her fingers reaching between the girl's legs. 'Split crotch, I might have guessed.' She leans in closer. 'You are kinky...and very wet too, I might add.'

The villainess looks up at Boot Girl, her fingers gently toying with Pauline's sex. 'Your punching way above your weight Boots. How in Gaia's kingdom did you manage to land quite such a cute sub.'

Pauline gives a small gasp.

‘Unless, of course, she's not yours and you just work together, like me and Lash.' Fetish looks back at Pauline who is now squirming on the villainess' fingers, her breathing rapid around the gag.

'You must be pretty committed to resist the temptation...unless, of course...' Fetish grin's. 'Unless, of course, you're submissive too.'

Pauline comes on Fetish's fingers and it is enough to distract the villainess from seeing the slight pink flush that creeps onto Boot Girl's face.

As Fetish withdraws her fingers, the villainess' comm bleeps and she rummages in her bag for it and scans the screen.

'La Donna wants us to go after her. One of the gangs is causing trouble.'

Lash nods. 'Where ?'

'West side. We'd best take the flyer.'

Boot Girl lifts her head at the sound of heeled boots on the stone floor of the warehouse.

Oh, joy !

The figure that appears is not Fetish or her mistress but the statuesque redhead she encountered on the rooftop.

'Not quite the situation I hoped to find.' Madam Bondage stands with one hand on her hips; in the other she holds the purple restraints in which she customarily keeps her slave. Boot Girl sees Pauline lift her head at the sound of the voices and watches as the northerner strides across the open floor towards the captives then disappears behind Boot Girl to remove the heroine's gag.

'I would have expected better from you.' This remark is clearly directed at Boot Girl.

'I didn't plan to end up like this.'

'No, I suspect you didn't.' Lady Bishop frowns. 'Did you plan it at all ?'

'It wasn't my idea to come here.'

'I do believe my lowliest sword-maiden would crave punishment rather than make such a banal excuse.' Lady Bishop turns to face Pauline looking down at the captive princess. 'I suppose we'd better get you home.' She throws the restraints she is carrying down onto the floor, steps behind the kneeling girl and begins to remove her gag.

'I'm sorry, Madam.' Pauline keeps her head bowed as the large gag is removed. 'It is my fault.'

'See ! It wasn't anything to do with me.'

Madam Bondage looks up at Hannah. 'If you are going to continue whining about it not being your fault I will replace your gag now but if you wish to say anything useful then I may forgo that pleasure, for a few minutes at least.'

The older woman turns her attention back to the kneeling princess, removing the rest of the head harness. 'I fear your freedom will be somewhat short-lived my lady.'

The kneeling brunette glances down at the purple sleeve and hood. 'It is no more than I deserve Madam.' She cannot stop a smile playing across her face as the speaks and keeps her head bowed to hide it.

'I will, have to use the nipple cuffs again, too.'

'Of course, Madam, I fully understand. Perhaps when I am suitably restrained you should punish me too.'

Boot Girl rolls her eyes and then watches as Pauline's cuffs are removed. When she is free, the brunette stands and slips off her leather knickers and then the bodystocking. Finally she removes the collar, putting her costume to one side and dropping to her knees. Naked and kneeling submissively she settles back placing her arms behind her and bows her head.

'I suspect you will be punished later but, unfortunately, not by me.' There is humour in Madam Bondage's voice. 'Much as I might enjoy it I don't plan to do all the lacing either.'

Pauline looks up, her face blushing.

'Forgive me Madam, I did not mean to imply...'

'The boots !' Madam Bondage smiles, though Pauline cannot see. 'Slave.'

Pauline slides onto her bare bottom and picks up one of the boots, initially pulling it on to the wrong foot. Realising, she swaps feet and frantically begins to lace the boot into place.

Madam bondage takes the opportunity to survey Boot Girl's accessories.

'I must say, whomever created these has quite an eye for detail.'

'Yeah, I thought that too. Look...Mis...er...Madam. You couldn't see your way to releasing me could you ?' There is a bitter edge to Boot Girl's voice.

Madam Bondage smiles up at her. 'I believe we are all commanders of our own destiny, we should enjoy the rewards of our successes and endure the ignominy of our failures.'

'Great. I was quite happy with my success before my 'partner' over there started getting me into trouble.'

'It is my understanding that she rescued you last time you ended up like this.' Madam Bondage studies the weighted pink hearts clipped to Hannah's nipples. 'These really are quite exquisite you know.'

'Not from this side they're not.'

'I could remove them.'

'Just bloody leave them alone. Ill do it myself.'

Madam Bondage smiles. 'An apt metaphor for your predicament.'

'No, my 'predicament' is simple. I'm hanging here helpless and naked and you're down there, free and in a position to release me.'

'You must learn to take a tactical overview, 'see the bigger picture' I believe is the Bellanian idiom. You are young and strong, possess a good fighting technique and clearly have the urge to serve your fellow citizens and yet you wind up nearly falling out of the sky, getting yourself into all sorts of bondage scenarios and generally not reaching your full potential.'

'I think you'll find that's just life for us little people. We can't all be Ladies and Demoiselles.'

Madam Bondage smiles. 'I think it's a little more than that. I could be wrong, you might be a devious and submissive masochist who's so desperate to end up in bondage she doesn't mind how she does it. However, I think you actually want to be a heroine and would make quite a good one; you just needs to be a bit more...organised.'

'So what has that got to do with my sore nips.'

'Learning can be a painful experience. You must have done enough combat training to know that.'

'Is that it ? I could probably of figured that out for myself.'

'Yes, you probably could have and if you come to train with me you will be able to.'

'So you're offering me a course in grammar ?'

'No, strategy. You said you played. I can take you from chess piece to chess player, perhaps even to championship level.'

'I'm fine as I am.'

'Of course you are.' Madam Bondage turns away.

Pauline is kneeling in the boots pulling the shiny leather hood over her head; the brunette is already wearing the thong.

'Good girl.' Madam Bondage strides towards the kneeling princess and takes hold of the edges of the hood, pulling it closed and starting to lace it up. As she does this Pauline lets her hands drop, placing them behind her back enjoying a shiver of anticipation.

'You are going to rescue me, right ?' Boot Girl is starting to feel nervous at being left behind.

'Perhaps.' Madam Bondage is focussed on the laces of the hood. Once she has tightened them she inflates the gag then retightens the laces before inflating the hood. Then the heroine picks up the sleeve and slides it over the kneeling girl's arms before beginning to tighten the laces. After the first pass of the laces she straps the chest harness across the princess' chest and then restarts with the laces, smoothing the leather of the sheath as she tightens it. Boot Girl can see the flush to the kneeling girl's skin and the rapidity of her breathing.

'Attention to detail is important in the game of chess.' Madam Bondage talks as she works. 'I suspect the provider of your accessories plays well.' She turns to look up at Boot Girl and, as she does so, Pauline begins to squirm where she kneels, clearly working the thong against her sex. 'An ability to predict your opponent's move is important too.' Without looking down at her charge Madam Bondage draws the whip from her boot and brings it down hard on Pauline's breasts, resheathing it in her boot in one swift motion.

Pauline stills though she is clearly panting and the blow has clearly done nothing to quell her submissive arousal. Madam Bondage continues with the laces until the princess is secure in bondage; then the statuesque redhead clips the nipple cuffs to the kneeling girl's now intensely erect nipples making the princess shudder and earning her another sharp blow to the breasts which makes the leash attached to the cuffs leap.

A jerk to Pauline's leash brings the helpless girl obediently to her feet and a second sets her in motion behind the northerner. As the princess walks she is swaying her hips in an exaggerated manner though this may be as much to flaunt her firm, barely concealed buttocks to the helpless heroine as much to make the thong rub more against her sex.

'I'm still here !' Boot Girl, still hanging by her wrists and with the clamps still on her nipples, calls after the departing pair.

'Yes, you are and, I believe, will still be when I return unless the little detour I sent Fetish and Lash on detains them less time than I expect.'

'You could take these nipple clamps off.'

'You told me to leave them alone.'

'Yes, but I didn't think...' Boot Girl squirms in her bonds.

'No, you didn't.' Madam Bondage does not look back.

'Hey..." Boot Girl jerks angrily in her bondage and the nipple weights swing wildly. 'Ow...fuck...'

'You should keep still...' Madam Bondage disappears from Boot Girl's view,

'Forgive the intrusion, Lady Bishop. Oh, Shield Maiden.' Adele is surprised to find the Madam Bondage not in Castle Strangeways.

'My Mistress is unavailable, Adele. Is something wrong ?'

'It's just...' Adele takes a deep breath. 'I can't find Pauline.'

'I hope you do not believe Lady Bishop abducted her.'

'No, of course, not.' Adele pales slightly at her seat in front of the satellite comm system, her voice nervous. 'Forgive me.'

The image of the Shield Maiden smiles. 'If I may say, losing your charge is a little careless. I expect the Contesse will chastise you severely when she returns. The Contesse knows, I assume.'

'No...'

'Oh, I see. You haven't left her restrained somewhere and forgotten about it have you ? I seem to recall she spent quite a bit of time undergoing punishments when I last visited.'

'Err...' For a moment Adele wonders whether the Shield Maiden is talking about Pauline or her mother. 'Of course not.' Adele's frustration spills over in an unexpectedly terse response.

The Shield Maiden's visage darkens.

'I'm sorry. It's just...'

'I know, Adele.' The Shield Maiden becomes conciliatory. 'As it happens I know exactly where the Lady Pauline is.'

'You do ?' Adele's eyes widen. 'How...?'

'She is on her way to dine with Lady Bishop.'

'But how.. ? Isn't it a little late...?' Adele looks at the corner of the monitor which shows it is nearly midnight.

'Adele. If I may say, Pauline is a woman now, still denied some rights according your laws, but an adult nevertheless. It thus seems rather unsurprising for her to be at home based on my, albeit limited, knowledge of your young people.' The Shield Maiden suppresses a shy smile. 'You really should let her come and go a little more freely.'

'It's my duty to protect her.'

'It does not sound like you are doing a very successful job. If one of my Swordmaidens had lost her charge she would endure at least a double month of pzorich. I'm sure I could arrange for you to travel to Castle Strangeways for some remedial training.'

Adele ignores the jibe. 'How would she get past security ?'

'Adele.' The Shield Maiden raises an eyebrow. 'She is a princess of your realm. I suspect it wasn't too hard to persuade the guards to let her out.'

Adele sags in front of the comm system. 'You're right and I'm sure Lady Bishop is more than capable of protecting her.'

'Indeed she is.' The Shield Maiden reaches forward and closes the connection.


Part 7: Pzorich (added: 2017/09/08)

Boot girl is hanging by her wrists and she is naked.

She is in Madam Bondage's chamber in Castle Strangeways, her wrists locked in steel cuffs bolted to the wall and her ankles similarly restrained. She has seen none of the castle except this room being hooded and restrained during the flight and the whole of her arrival and then lead to her current position on a leash, still wearing the hood.

Prior to transporting her, Madam Bondage used the pink leather restraints so that Boot Girl spent the flight lying in the rear compartment of the woman's flyer strapped tightly into a body harness with her arms pinned to her sides and her legs strapped together and pulled up to the top of the hood.

Boot Girl is not the only captive, if that is the correct term, in the room. Madam Bondage's slave, the girl with the huge breasts and light brown hair and, Hannah recalls, the unusual and rather attractive hazel eyes, is there with her, restrained in some sort of archaic torture device fashioned from brass or perhaps bronze; the girl stands on tiptoe, her long legs strapped to a pole that runs up between them and, Hannah thinks, probably penetrates her sex; a curved bar attached to the upright emerges from between her thighs and forks in into three in front of her breasts; wires run from the tips of the two side prongs to collars tightened around the girl's huge nipples and more wires link these to steel cages around her breasts, these in turn are joined to collars round the bases of her breasts which are in turn linked to the upright; another bar emerges behind her from which protrudes a butt plug, this then arches behind her, securing her shackled wrists before extending above her head to support a head cage or brank which gags her and, by means of plates like the blinkers of a pony harness, restricts her vision; the brank is secured in place with a large padlock in front of her neck; the final part of her bondage is an intricate corset made up of metal bands that are supported by the front and back bars; that the device is more than a simple restraint is demonstrated by a spinning ball on the third prong of the front bar, moving tantillisingly in front of the girl's face, that is clearly driving its internal mechanisms, a weight on a chain descending gradually beneath it as a source of power. Further evidence of a more sinister nature comes from periodic clicks in the mechanism which seem to result in the girl's bondage, particularly that around her breasts, becoming tighter. The girls huge breasts are discoloured from the progressively tightening collars around their bases and stretched taut by the collars on the nipples, while discharges, presumably of static electricity randomly shock the tortured flesh. The girl barely seems to respond to these torments and Hannah can see only slight stiffening in her tautly stretched and tightly restrained body when the device activates. Her silence is not simply due to the gag though this is clearly very effective because she does occasionally cry out though these cries are not of pain, suggesting the device is not purely designed for torture.

Boot Girl has watched two cycles of the device, gradually clamping down on and stretching the girl's tortured breasts, squeezing her waist, lifting her shackled arms high behind her back and drawing her up onto the very tips of her toes to a state where any further progress will tear her apart or crush her or perhaps both. It is at these points of extremis that the pleasure the device delivers becomes more evident, driving the tormented girl to orgasm even as her body is punished to the edge of her endurance.

Boot Girl watches as the girl comes for the third time, gasping into her gag which the heroine now notices expands as part of her torture; every muscle in the girl's body seems to strain against her bondage and her fists clench as the device increases the tension before her confinement relaxes and she drops gratefully back onto her heels, her breasts and waist taking up a more natural shape, her arms settling to a more comfortable position just below the level of her shoulderblades. The girl's skin in flushed, the sheen of sweat coating it, glistening in the flickering light, and her breathing is ragged.

'What do you think of my conditioning machine ?' Madam Bondage has entered while the girl was in the throes of orgasm and now walks to her helpless slave.

'Isn't slavery technically illegal, even up here ?'

'We are bound by the same laws as you. A pledged slave may accept conditioning from her mistress. It seems a shame to deny her.' Madam Bondage stands beside her slave as she finishes speaking and strokes the girl's bare bottom. 'And you did ask for it, didn't you Hazel.'

The helpless girl makes a tiny sound which could be interpreted as agreement with her mistress.

'I assume you two have been introduced ?' Madam Bondage turns to look at Hannah.

'Yes, we've met. Briefly, at least.'

'Ah. The night of the riot.'

The mechanism of Hazel's restraint clicks ominously as another cycle begins. The helpless girl gives a small whimper into her gag as her bonds begin to tighten and her breast torture starts again.

'Don't you think she's had enough ?'

'Are you offering to trade places with her ? I'm sure we could make the necessary adjustments to the device.'

'No, I'm fine, thanks.'

'I'll tell you what I'll do.' Madam Bondage arches her eyebrow. 'Since you have shown such concern. We'll play chess and, if you win, I'll release her.'

'Am I likely to win ?'

'Excellent question and the first you should always ask before an engagement. To answer frankly, I would say it is exceedingly unlikely that you have any chance of winning.'

'So what's the point in playing ?'

'An instructive exercise.' Madam Bondage pulls a table already set with chess pieces in front of Boot Girl and then draws up a stool for herself. 'Besides, I have several conditioning machines and, if you don't try, I'll put you in one of the others.'

'Perhaps I'd enjoy being conditioned. I've always thought dominance was over-rated.'

'They have a variety of settings. Even a very masochistic submissive would struggle to enjoy all of them.'

'Chess it is then.'

'Good girl.' Madam Bondage sits on the stool across the board from where Boot Girl is suspended. 'You may begin.'

'You're going to keep me hanging here ?'

'Do refrain from this desire to state the obvious at every opportunity.'

'You do have me at quite a disadvantage.'

'Nonsense. The physical stress will help you to concentrate. Devising tactics under pressure is important for a heroine.'

'Like your pal Destiny did ?' Boot Girl's jibe is supposed to be flippant but the anger that flares in the northerner's face is terrifying. Hannah can't help but notice the whimper from the helpless slave.

Madam bondage stands knocking down the stool behind her, the tension in her frame evidence of the internal struggle to control her anger. 'You are a petty...' She draws the whip from her boot and advances on the helpless heroine. Boot Girl pales aware that she is utterly defenseless but before the northerner strikes she manages to steady herself though her face is flushed with anger; because of her height Madam Bondage can almost look Boot Girl straight in the eye. 'You should be careful to mind your tongue in matters about which you know little or nothing.'

'I'm sorry.' Hannah does not apologise because of fear but because she recognises the terrible wrong she has done. 'Hazel is Destiny isn't she ?'

Madam Bondage nods, there are tears in her blue eyes.

'Perhaps you should tell me what happened.'

Madam Bondage nods again and steps back to sit on the edge of the table.

'The Sisterhood, did then as you try to do now, to...keep order. They, we, I was one of them, were reasonably successful too.' Madam Bondage looks meaningfully at Hannah but then looks down quickly; sitting where she is she looks small and hunched, older. 'You...Boot Girl, has her fans but they, we were celebrities, adored by the masses; Golden Girl, Princess, Destiny, Detecta, hardly a day went by when we were not in the news. The villainesses were almost the same, larger than life figures. We all knew whom we were fighting. Even the villainesses had their fans, petty criminals, the street gangs, there were even what one might refer to as respectable ladies that set themselves up to be robbed or kidnapped by one or other of the Dark Sorority as they became known. I once heard a southern diplomat boast at a palace cocktail party of four days spent in Dominata's dungeon. It was a game.'

'And it changed when Mistress Pain showed up ?'

Madam Bondage nods. 'Until she arrived we believed we could do no wrong. There would be a robbery or a kidnapping and we'd hunt the perpetrators down; there'd be a fight and, if we were lucky, one or more of them would be arrested; or one us would be captured and held in bondage until she could be rescued. I recall...' Madam Bondage smiles. '...another time perhaps.'

Behind Madam Bondage, Destiny, starts to whimper into her gag, struggling in her bondage and the redhead stands turning towards the captive girl and putting one arm around her shoulders, using the other hand to still the mechanism of the conditioning device. The girl struggles, mewling into her gag.

'Those who do not know their history will only repeat it.' She gently stroking her gloved finger across Destiny's chest. 'She must know.' Madam Bondage is addressing Destiny. 'I do not wish it to happen again.'

The helpless girl stills and Madam Bondage releases a catch in the device which relaxes the bondage to it's resting state. The girl is still utterly helpless but no longer tormented, physically at least.

'Mistress Pain was different. It wasn't a game to her but deadly serious. We should have seen this and dealt with her but we did not. We treated her like one of the other villainesses, like an opponent in the game rather than the enemy she was. Then she took Lady Blush, our current queen's sister and imprisoned her in a secret place advertising the fact and tormenting us by our inability to find and rescue her. Lady Blush was the contesse's older sister, twenty five at the time I think and just as voluptuous as her sister. Each day Mistress Pain added to the girl's bondage and torment, devising new and more devious ways to humiliate and punish her...and us. The poor girl was forced to perform all sorts of vile acts, put through intense conditioning, punished and brought to orgasm, made to beg for the whip and crawl at her 'mistress' feet. The queen was beside herself, impotent with rage; the humiliation of what was being done to her daughter...'

'How long did it take you to find her ?'

'It was almost two months. By that time, Lady Blush had been forced to admit her submission, which I think was genuine but not then considered appropriate for an aristocrat and had clearly become a conditioned slave. It was Destiny who found the lead, studying the videos of the girl's torment, a sound, the bell of the Gaian temple in the West Side. She went immediately leaving a message for us. I think she was very fond of Lady Blush.'

Destiny sobs around her gag, her body shaking and Madam Bondage squeezes her shoulders. Boot Girl wants to tell her to release the girl but knows not to interrupt.

'Destiny found the place and went straight inside believing we would be there to back her up as we always were but in her hurry she had written the wrong address and we were some time finding her.'

Destiny sobs again.

'The rest is history. Destiny fought Mistress Pain and defeated her. Something I might not have achieved in those days though I could do it easily now. Cuffing the Villainess, Destiny went to rescue her princess but Mistress Pain had laid a trap and, when Destiny opened the door to the girl's cage a needle released poison into the princess' blood. When we arrived Lady Blush was dead in Destiny's arms, still in her chains.'

Boot Girl wishes she could wipe the tears from her eyes and watches, her vision blurred, as Madam Bondage comforts her helpless slave. She is whispering gently in the girl's ear and Hannah cannot make out the words.

Finally the Mistress of Strangeways turns back to her.

'So, that is why you are here. I do not want another death or another penitent heroine.'

Boot Girl smiles gently. 'And I thought you just wanted a new wall decoration.'

Madam Bondage smiles back. 'It is your spirit that makes me think you will succeed.'

'Succeed ?'

'You remember the parable of the nipple clamps, pain before gain ?'

'Do my nipples have to come into everything ?'

Madam Bondage shrugs. You would not want to spoil that cute butt that everyone talks about would you ?'

'Fair point. What about her.' Hannah nods in the direction of the fallen heroine.

'She will overcome, which reminds me.' Madam Bondage flicks the ball suspended in front of Destiny's face and the conditioning device whirrs to life.

'What happens now ?'

The redhead turns back to her blonde captive. 'We play chess.'

'Chess is just a game.'

'No, chess is more than a game.'

Lady de Renee and Adele are in the royal bedchamber. Adele has shed her robe and kneels in front of her mistress, naked apart from her collar; the slave has her hands behind her head and kneels with her legs wide and her breasts thrust out.

'You know when you said you would restrain me ?' Lady de Renee is still dressed in her working clothes, her leather bustier and tight leather trousers.

'Yes, Mistress ?'

'You'd really have done it, wouldn't you ?' The queen caresses her lover's right nipple with the tip of a long cane she usually uses on her slave's buttocks.

'Not doing so would be a dereliction of my duties. It would invite severe chastisement.'

'And, of course, if you had tied me up I would have taking this cane to these gorgeous breasts of yours; so ,in fact, whether you'd tied me up or not you'd have been punished.'

'Correct.' Adele shifts slightly as the cane toys with her nipple.

'Unless, of course, I enjoyed the experience of being restrained.' Lady de Renee puts her hands behind her back as if they are tied and leans forward thrusting out her large firm breasts. 'Of course, I'm not sure I'd enjoy being whipped...' She grins. '...not too hard, anyway... But, of course, if I was gagged and very tightly restrained, I would hardly be in a position to stop you, would I ?'

'Indeed not, Mistress.'

'And you're stronger than me so, if you wanted to could overpower me, strip me naked and tie me...there'd be nothing I could do about it.'

'You could call your guards.'

'You know, I think I might have turned the intercom off and set it to 'Do not disturb'.'

'That would leave you very vulnerable, Mistress.'

'It would, wouldn't it.' Lady de Renee straightens and puts down her whip. Turning her back to her slave she bends forwards to unbuckle her boots, deliberately keeping her legs straight so that her bottom is clearly displayed to the kneeling woman. 'I seem to recall you once said my butt was my best feature.'

'I'm still very fond of it, Mistress.'

'Do you ever feel the urge to spank it when I'm doing something you disapprove of.'

'Sometimes, Mistress.'

'And would you like to spank it now ?'

'I was not aware you were doing anything...inappropriate.'

'I must have done a dozen thing this week you weren't happy with.' Contesse de Renee stands and turns to face her kneeling lover; she undoes the clip of her bustier and removes it, exposing her huge, enhanced breasts; the nipples are big and dark and clearly swollen with arousal. She draws her shoulders back, thrusting out her breasts as she undoes the belt of her leather trousers then peels the them down her long slim legs; then Contesse de Renee stands before her slave, gloriously naked; her long dark hair is tousled about her shoulders framing her aristocratic face with its high cheekbones, her dark eyes flashing and her full lips pout seductively.

'Slave.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'I've been a very bad girl this week and I need to be punished.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'You've no idea how good this feels.' Contesse de Renee tosses her head, shaking her long dark hair, as she kneels in front of Adele who sits on the bed behind her tightening the laces of a black leather slave sheath on her Mistress' arms. The brunette's elbows are touching, her shoulders pulled back by her position and the straps of the restraint.

'You might recall I am not unfamiliar with these restraints, Mistress. If you cast your mind back, you might remember I spent last night wearing one.'

'Oh, that's right.' The Contesse smiles, somewhat coyly at the memory. 'Actually, I quite enjoy using them on you. They make a girl docile, don't you think. The lace up ones particularly. I think it's the intimacy in their application. You can hardly lace an unwilling captive into a sheath like this.'

'It would be difficult unless you rendered her unconscious, Mistress.'

'And they make a girl's tits stick out delightfully.' Lady de Renee shakes her large breast to emphasise her point.

'Indeed, Mistress.'

'Do you remember the first time you saw me restrained ?'

'I could hardly forget, Mistress.'

Contesse de Renee smiles. 'Now there's a reason for you to punish me. Letting myself get captured by Dominata. If you hadn't rescued me I might be a conditioned slave now somewhere in the south.'

'I would have found you, Mistress, where ever you were.'

'Do you remember her conditioning machine ? The one I was strapped to.'

Both women smile at the memory of Lady de Renee or, the heroine, 'Princess' as she was then, inside Dominata's conditioning chamber. Princess had been stripped from her flimsy costume which consisted of little more than a gold bikini and boots and strapped to a frame with her hands locked behind her back in steel bands and her feet locked to steel footrests; she had been restrained in a crouching position, penetrated vaginally and anally and had a similar plug in her mouth, with her head forced back so it looked as if she was impaled on a steel rod through her body. The machine was designed so the footrests slid gently down under her weight so she was forced to pump constantly with her legs to stop herself being completely impaled on the dildo inside her, a movement which resulted in the her moving up and down on the dildo. Stimulators attached to her nipples, clitoris and labia charged with the pumping motion providing constant stimulation to her captive body keeping her intensely aroused and, frequently pushing her to orgasm until at the end of the cycle they discharged a powerful shock onto her erogenous zones forcing her to accept a mix of pleasure and pain and, after several days on the machine, another pain induced orgasm. The machine would then rotate, spraying her captive body with slave gel, resetting itself so the whole cycle would begin again.

'It was the first time I realised how much you loved me.' Contesse de Renee smiles dreamily.

Adele has finished lacing the slave sheath in place and busies herself picking out more restraints. 'How did you know ?'

'You could have taken advantage of me when you pulled my out of the machine. I was hardly in a position to resist. In fact as I recall I begged you to fuck me...in a very un-princess-like way. I knew you fancied me, it was only then I knew how much. Anyone else would have had their way with me and we'd have shared a guilty and rather dirty little secret.'

'You were a princess, I could hardly take advantage of you. Anyway, I'm not sure you were in any fit state to think clearly out at the time.' Adele wraps a corset around the contesse's body and begins to lace it in place beneath the brunette's enormous breasts.

'No, at the time it was the underwear that gave it away.'

'I would have rescued any of the Sisterhood from something like that.'

'Though in a few cases I think you'd have stopped to put your clothes before coming out.'

'Perhaps.' Adele tightens the laces at the bottom of the corset a little more and begins again at the top.

'Do you still have it ?'

'Have what, Mistress ?'

'The famous underwear.' Contesse de Renee smiles. 'Perhaps you could wear it for me tonight ?'

'Yes, I do still have it but the bra is way too small now.'

'Pity. I suspect my Princess costume would cause much the same problem.' Contesse de Renee looks down at her breasts. 'The price of vanity !'

'It has its compensations.' Adele begins to lace a pair of breasts cuffs around the bases of her mistress' breasts.

Contesse de Renee falls silent for a while as Adele fastens the breast cuffs in place. The blonde plays with the heavy globes as she does so teasing her lover's sensitive nipples at every opportunity.

'I'm going to come if you carry on like that.'

'Sub's who come without permission are usually punished.'

'I used to be a sub I recall.' The Contesse de Renee's lips curl into a slightly smug smile. 'When you fantasised about me, you imagined me as the sub didn't you ?'

'Who said I fantasised about you ?' Adele looks up from her mistress' breasts.

'Oh, come on, Adele. We were twenty three, we thought about sex every five minutes; even when we were battling Dominata and Lady Lust we were wondering what they looked like with their clothes off.' The Contesse smiles wistfully. 'So, did you imagine me helpless in bondage, kneeling at your feet raking my tongue up and down your pussy ?'

Adele's smile confirms her guilt. 'I thought I was a dominant then.'

'I think you still are inside. I've seen the way you punish my daughter.'

'Mistress, I wouldn't...' Adele is shocked. 'She's my...I'm her...'

'Oh, come on Adele, I'm not suggesting that punishing her turns you on, I'm just saying that only a dominant could demand that level of discipline. I could never do it. Your a natural even if Pauline doesn't see it that way sometimes. These breasts cuffs are delightful by the way, I hope you're going to use the collar too.'

'Yes, and the half face hood.'

Contesse de Renee smiles coyly. 'Oh !'

'Don't worry, I'm sure I'll remove it when the time comes so your tongue can get some exercise.'

'Always so thoughtful.' Contesse de Renee runs her tongue over her soft pink lips.

'I'm also going to put you in toe-boots. I love to see you like that.'

'Oh, Adele. You know I never learned to walk in those things. I'll be completely unable to move.'

'I think that's the general idea of bondage, Mistress.'

'You, Slave, are going to get a sound whipping when I get out of this lot.'

'I'm very much looking forward to it, Mistress.' Adele slides the collar around the kneeling brunette's throat. 'Chin up, Mistress.'

'You have still got your lariat, haven't you ?' Contesse do Renee lifts her head to allow Adele to lace the collar snugly about her throat.

'Of course.'

'You will use it on me, won't you ?'

'Fun as this is, I'm not sure I should be leading the queen through her own palace teetering on toe boots with a noose around her neck.'

'Might be fun though.'

'No !'

'I love it when you're dominant.' A smile once again plays on the Contesse's lips.

'Get up on the bed.'

'As you command, Mistress.' The Contesse's voice is playful.

'And don't call me that.'

'Why not, Mistress ?' The contesse gives a coy smile. 'If I call you 'Mistress' will you punish me, Mistress ?'

'Breasts of buttocks ?'

'Both, I hope, Mistress, but remember we have that reception tomorrow evening. I don't want too many bruises on my tits.' Contesse de Renee sits on the edge of the bed with her legs spread wide and shakes her breasts enticingly. 'Punish me, Mistress.'

'Don't try to distract me. You're getting toe-boots...and a gag.'

'Yes, Mistress.' The Contesse bows her head in apparent submission to cover her smile.

'You're very fond of Pauline, aren't you ?'

Adele looks up from where she crouches at Contesse de Renee's feet lacing up the soft black leather toe boots; the boots come up to the woman's thighs. 'Yes, of course.'

'If she was doing something she shouldn't, would you tell me or would you just punish her and keep it secret ?'

'Did you have anything specific in mind, Mistress ?' Adele returns to her lacing.

'Do you think she's submissive or dominant ?'

'I think she'll make a good dominant.' Adele keeps her gaze firmly on the boots in front of her.

'That's not what I asked.'

'I don't think she's fully decided. We didn't know at her age.'

'Do we know now ?'

'You are the dom and I am the sub, Mistress. You may be restrained but I'm still lacing up your boots.'

'You're being deliberately evasive, Adele.'

'No, Mistress, I'm being pragmatic.' Adele stands. 'On your feet.'

The Contesse de Renee makes a show of struggling to stand with her arms restrained tightly behind her; she wobbles slightly on the boots.

'How you walk around in these I will never know.'

'It just takes practice, Mistress.' Adele frowns. 'Do you think you can manage to stay upright while I fetch my lariat ?'

'I could get it myself.' The Contesse grins. 'Would you like me to bring it to you in my teeth ?'

'You'd probably fall and sprain your ankle and then we'd have some explaining to do. Probably best I get it.'

'As Mistress wishes.' The Contesse bows her head and wobbles again.

'Stay !'

'Yes, Mistress.' Contesse de Renee smiles to herself as she watches Adele walk to the drawers where the couple keep their toys. The blonde bends from the hips as she retrieves it, flashing her pussy towards her helpless mistress in the process. It seems to take her some time to find it and the Contesse enjoys the full rear view of her naked slave. 'Do you need some help, Mistress.' The Contesse tries to take a step forward in the toe boots and nearly falls, crying out as the just manages to right herself.

Adele turns to stand, the lariat in her hand. 'I told you to stay.'

'I didn't expect you to flash your pussy at me. A girl can only take so much.'

'Perhaps you'd like to be hooded to prevent you getting distracted.'

'Perhaps you could cover yourself up a little.'

Adele smiles, realising her mistress' intention.

'Your rubber lingerie is in the wardrobe.'

Adele grins. 'But, who'll help me put it on ?'

'I can't, but I will do my best to help you take it off again later.'

'You play well, Hannah.' Madam Bondage smiles as she captures Hannah's crown with her roc, lifting it over the two slave girls who pin the piece to the edge of the board.

'Thanks.' Hannah's voice is laden with irony; she has now lost three games.

'You're strategy is good but you do not explore the consequences of your actions. We will play again tomorrow.' Madam Bondage rises.

'So is that it ? You leave me hanging here all night ?'

'By the gods, no !' Madam Bondage seems amused by the idea. 'I don't want you hanging around my chambers all the time. I have many important matters to deal with.'

'Great, I'd hate to be an inconvenience.'

Madam Bondage smiles. 'I think Hazel will require my attention tonight.'

'I'm sorry.' Hannah genuinely is.

'I know.' The Mistress of Strangeways' voice is gentle. She looks up at Hannah with a sad smile. 'Perhaps this training will be of value to more than just you.' She pulls a handle which sticks out of the wall of the chamber by the door.

After a moment's delay there is a firm knock.

'Cym.'

The door opens and a pretty redhead enters; the girl is dressed in a fur bikini and knee boots; she carries a sword at her hip and a heavy wooden shield strapped across her back. Once through the door she brings her right fist up to her left palm, extending her right leg and bowing giving Hannah an uninterrupted view of her pale, freckled cleavage.

'Madam.'

'Agnetha, put our guest to pzorich.' Madam Bondage speaks to the girl in Bellanian though the last word is clearly Nordisch and Hannah doesn't understand it.

'Yes, Madam. The girl straightens and pulls some leather thongs from her belt then approaches Hannah. She frees the captive's ankles first, releasing the cuffs with an ease that frustrates the helpless blonde; then she presses her shoulder against Hannah's side and holds her waist before reaching up and to free Hannah's wrists one at a time.

'Think not to struggle or you shall restrained forcibly be.' The girls' voice has a northern softness.

I really can't be bothered.

Hannah allows herself to be lowered onto her feet and then turns, presenting her wrists behind her to be bound. In the corner of her vision she sees Madam Bondage nod approvingly. When her wrists are bound she feels a thong being placed around her neck and tied in place as a makeshift leash. The redhead takes up the end of the leash and Hannah follows her to the door of the chamber where she turns and bows to her mistress, repeating the salute. Hannah bows too, as best she can with her hands bound behind her and, to her surprise, Madam Bondage returns the gesture to them both.

'Goodnight, Hannah.'

'Goodnight, Madam.'

They turn to leave. 'Agnetha.'

The girl turns back. 'Madam.'

'This southerner is my guest. Please remember that. If she is...' Madam Bondage smiles. '...taken advantage of the Shield Maiden shall hear of it and any who I hear of will endure an extra pzorich.'

'Understand do I, Madam.'

'Come along, Mistress.' Adele flicks the cane at Contesse de Renee's bottom and the helpless woman struggles to take another step.

Contesse de Renee glares at the blonde, the flush on her cheeks clearly visible where the emerge from the leather hood which covers her mouth, head and neck but exposes the oval of her nose, eyes and forehead. Adele has put a large rubber ball into the contesse's mouth to gag her before closing the hood and lacing it tight across the helpless woman's mouth.

The lariat, tied with multiple knots is stretched across the room at waist height and the Contesse straddles it so that with every step it rubs against her labia. As she approaches a knot the brunette stops again and looks at Adele, teetering on the huge heels and tiny toe points.

'Lift your knees.'

The Contesse lifts her left knee in what is reminiscent of a pony's high trot and then repeats the process on the other side, her eyes widening as she allows the knot to pass through her legs.

'Are we getting a little out of condition ?'

The Contesse is panting gently. With her mouth sealed her breath is loud through her nostrils.

Adele is dressed in the black rubber lingerie, a peephole bra and split crotch knickers, rubber suspender belt and matching stockings; heavy rubber knee boots are laced on to her feet. She supports the Contesse with a training pole, used to guide submissives in their training; the pole is clipped to the front of the brunette's collar.

'Just three more then you can practice walking backwards.'

Contesse de Renee groans into her gag.

Hannah follows Agnetha along a stone corridor and down several flights of steps. The walls are largely bare carved stone, hardly smoothed in places or, occasionally, dressed stone blocks. The lighting is mostly provided by oil lamps and torches.

'Don't you have electricity up here ?'

'The castle haves generator.' Agnetha doesn't turn when she speaks. 'But oil are easier for light and we haves furs and else others for warmth.'

'Else others ?'

'Our hot bodies share warmth.'

Hannah smiles and looks at the girls firm muscular legs and tight bottom, half her slim waist is hidden enticingly by the shield and her red hair seems to glow in the oil light.

'You can share the warmth of your hot body with me any time.'

Agnetha turns and regards the naked heroine carefully. 'Enticed, I am very but my mistress forbiddes me. I wishes not to bes punished.'

'Shame.'

'Your bodies is very appealing and firm. I likes to feel it hotness.'

Hannah smiles. 'I won't tell if you don't.'

'It are not permitted.' Agnetha's eyes widen slightly and then she turns away, pulling on Hannah's leash.

'You don't really have to tie me up as well, I'm pretty much stuck here while these things are laced to my feet.' The Contesse sits on her bed, her arms still tightly restrained behind her back in the slave sheath, her booted legs folded under her. Adele has just removed the ball gagging her and the hood hangs slightly open enabling her to speak.

'You were the one reminiscing about old times, asking if I still had my costume and my lariat.'

'I don't remember you ever tying me up with it.'

'I didn't get much of a chance.' Adele works to undo one of the knots in her lariat. The leather is slick where her Mistress has rubbed her sex on it.

'You still think I'm wrong, don't you ?' Contesse de Renee's voice has become slightly serious.

'Mistress ?' Adele looks up.

'Disbanding the Sisterhood.'

Adele tenses. 'You know I do, Mistress.'

'It wasn't only about Destiny and Lady Blush.'

'Then I suggest you tell Destiny. You know how she feels and you know her penance.'

'Oh, I think she quite enjoys it.' Contesse de Renee's voice does not carry its usual confident tone.

'Why don't you ask her next time they come to the palace ?' Adele avoids her mistress' gaze as, looking down she removes the last knot from her lariat. There is silence for a moment; a cloud above the landscape of their relationship.

Then Adele looks up. 'On your belly.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Contesse de Renee leans over, falling to her side and rolling on to her belly. Her tone is as submissive as she can manage.

Adele begins to tie her mistress' ankles and pulls them up towards the tip of the single sleeve, hogtying the helpless woman.

'You won't be long will you, Mistress ?'

'As long as it takes.'

'Adele, I'm sorry. Let's not fight. If you're pissed at me why don't you give me the spanking I deserve ?'

'Open.'

The brunette obeys and Adele pushes the big black rubber ball back into the Contesse's mouth before retightening the laces of the hood. Then Adele sits on the bed beside her helpless mistress. The Contesse squirms forward and rests her head on the woman's bare thigh above the top of the rubber stocking and the blonde rests her hand on her lover's leather hooded head.

'I am your Pledged Slave, Mistress and I will obey you in all things.' Adele strokes the shiny leather and bends to kiss it.

The Contesse squirms a little closer and attempts to nuzzle the other woman's rubber covered crotch.'

'Oh, no. You're not getting round me that easily.' Adele can't help but laugh. 'You've submitted to me tonight and, when I get back from my rounds, which I suspect will take me a lot longer than usual tonight, you're definitely going to get that spanking.'

The contesse rubs her hooded cheek on the blonde's thigh and then Adele stands and picks up her robe, pulling it over her head. She walks to the mirror and examines her reflection; looking carefully she can just make out the black of the rubber underwear through the material and her erect nipples are clearly evident; the boots are a little incongruous too.

'I don't expect anyone will notice.' She grins and turns to see her mistress watching her from the bed. 'And remember, slaves who come without permission are severely punished.'

Contesse de Renee smiles behind the hood.

'I can smell you from here you kinky slut.' Adele leaves her helpless mistress alone in the chamber.

Finally they come to a heavy wooden door set with bars. The passage leading up to it has been gradually descending and the air has become chill, beyond the door, however, there is clearly an open fire.

Great ! A real dungeon.

The girl on guard is young, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, she is naked aside from a brass collar and, to Hannah's surprise a chastity belt. She stands with her legs planted firmly apart, staring straight ahead and holds a spear in her right hand, the base of its shaft resting on the stone at her feet. As Agnetha draws near the girl stiffens bringing her feet together and pulling her spear upright.

'Easen, Olga.'

The girl resumes her more relaxed posture and then turns to bang on the door. In the dim light Hannah can see that the young guard is pale and cold barely able to stop herself shivering, her nipples are stiffly erect. A face appears at the bars in the door, another pretty redhead with large blue eyes, her pale skin made ruddy by the firelight.

'Agnetha ! Wis has ye dar ?'

'Pzorich, Agnafred.'

A bolt is drawn back and the door pulled open, warmth from the fire rolls out across Hannah's bare skin and she notices Agnafred is naked. Agnetha leads them into large chamber with a fire crackling in a large hearth and several braziers.

At least my dungeon has heating.

As Hannah is lead inside she sees there are three other girls in the room, as well as Agnafred, all naked redheads with the firm toned bodies of the northern swordmaidens; their swords and shields lie in easy reach of where they sit on stools around the large fire.

There is an exchange of greetings and some rapid colloquial Nordish which Hannah cannot understand as Agnetha unselfconsciously peels off her fur bikini. While the girl's back is turned Hannah feels a hand on her right nipple and looks down to find Agnefred's fingers playing with it.

The redhead says something in Nordish which Hannah doesn't understand but from its tone is clearly lewd. Hannah feels her nipple stiffen and realises she hasn't had sex for over twenty four hours.

I hope she's not just saying my tits are too small.

Beside the fire stools scrape on the bare stone floor as the naked redheads gather round her, their hands running freely over her bare skin, teasing her nipples and stroking her bare bottom.

There is more lewd Nordish and Hannah feels a gently slap on her bottom.

I might even enjoy this.

'Nish !'

The girls withdraw their hands.

No, not 'Nish'...'Ja !'

There follows a long discourse in Nordish which refers to 'Madamme Bishop' several times and involves use of 'punischen' which Hannah knows means punishment and concludes with all the girls looking towards one corner of the room. Hannah follows their gaze and realises there are four other girls in the dungeon though they are pzorich, which she thinks must mean 'prisoners', rather than guards. All four are, unsurprisingly to Hananh, redheads; the first is bound to a diagonal cross, the girl has heavy weights hanging from clamps on her nipples; a second sits astride a wooden plank, the edge pressed hard against her sex, the girl's wrists are shackled in the small of her back, held there by a short chain to a large steel collar, she is kept in place by cuffs around her ankles which hold them wide apart and are fastened by chains to rings bolted into the floor; the third prisoner kneels in a steel cage, she has a brank locked around her head which is locked to the roof of the small cage and her wrists are cuffed to a steel belt locked around her waist, her ankles are shackled to the floor of the cage; the final girl is confined standing in a wooden pillory, her wrists on either side of her head and her ankles locked in wooden stocks, the girl's bottom and breasts are liberally marked with weals and cuts where she has recently been whipped, she has a large wooden ball in her mouth effectively gagging her.

Oh, what fun, A torture chamber too !

Now naked and, having seen off the advances of her colleagues towards her charge, Agnetha takes up Boot girl's leash and leads her to the far side of the chamber where there are a number of cells Hannah cannot see clearly into all of them but inside one she can see a redhead strapped to a steel frame, the girl is held in a kneeling position though some distance off the ground, bars support her ankles, thighs, waist and elbows which are held behind her, like the girl in the cage she wears a steel brank though this one blindfolds as well as gag her.

Agnetha leads Hannah to a box that is about waist height and has a hole in the top and others in the sides.

'You will not resist.'

'I will not resist.' Hannah rolls her eyes as Agnetha opens the box.

'For your protection.'

'If I wasn't restrained I wouldn't need protecting.'

'You are not match for swordmaidens.'

Hannah squares up to Angnetha thrusting her chest out and lifting her chin. 'Care to give it a try ?'

'You are with spirit but you are no matches for swordmaidens. Kneel into the box.'

'Can I pee first ?'

Agnetha grins and points to a grill in the corner. There is a bucket beside it.

'And I suppose you're going to watch me.'

Agnetha frowns. 'Nish !' Her face takes on a disgusted look.

'Some people like that sort of thing.' Hannah walks across to the grill, she can feel a cold draught rising from it.'

'You are not liking our plumbing ?' Agnetha laughs.

'No, it's fine. No worse than the pony troop.' Hannah squats, shuddering as the cold blows over her nether regions, and relieves herself.

'Ok, I'm good to go.' Hannah stands and walks back to the waiting northerner who points to the box.

It is obvious what she needs to do and Hannah drops to her knees on the wooden base. Agnetha steps behind her, bending to untie the blonde's wrists.

'You know, now I've satisfied one urge, it occurs to me I haven't eaten for he last twenty four hours.'

'I not understanding.' Agnetha finishes freeing Hannah's wrists and lifts her arms out to the side.

'Er...eashen...hungric.' Hannah resists the urge to gesticulate.

'Ah, ju snak bisten Nordish !'

'Very...bisten.'

Behind Hannah Agnetha smiles. 'Ju wird eashe.'

Yeah, I know, you just need to chain me up first.

Agnetha guides Hannah's arms out to her sides and through the holes in the sides of the box then locks cuffs the blonde's wrists to keep them there. She then does the same with Hannah's feet through the back of the box and then, finally closes the lid, locking it in place around Hannah's neck so that the blonde's body is inside the box and her head, hands and feet are outside.

'You are safe now.'

Perhaps safe means something else in Nordish.

'I...wirst...taaken...ju...eshebal.' Agnetha speaks slowly in Nordish.

'Taak ju.' Hannah forces herself to smile.

Wow, quite a deal, I get to learn chess and go to language classes and all I need to do is let them chain me to walls and lock me up.

Agnetha disappears and returns several minutes later with a bowl.

'I...ab...bruged...ju...eshebal.'

Hannah waggles her hand. 'You're gonna have to feed me.'

'You must say 'Ju murst aiiden im eashen'.'

And be treated like a baby bird.

Hannah repeats the phrase and Agnetha gives her a spoonful of fish soup.

'This is good.' Hannah chews. 'Er...Es ish goode'.'

'Goode.' Agnetha gives her a smile and another spoonful of soup.

Gaia, I can't live on this stuff.

Hannah swallows and opens her mouth for the next spoonful.

Contesse de Renee is bent over a low stool beside her bed. She is still restrained in the lace up black single sleeve, corset, boots and open face hood. Her booted legs are securely tied to the stool with Adele's lariat.

'Twenty four.' Adele delivers the final stroke with the cane and examines her mistress' bottom which is now red, the criss-crossing marks having largely coalesced; the blonde reaches down to stroke it, feeling it's warmth.

The contesse wriggles in her bonds.

'Had enough ?'

The contesse nods.

'Oh, I think you can still take that spanking you asked for earlier.'

The helpless woman shakes her head more vigourously. '.o !' No !

'I think you need a bit more conditioning. I thought you were much tougher than this.'

'.o !' The contesse shakes her head again.

'Fair enough. I'll untie you and then you can be mistress again.'

'.o !' The contesse shakes her head even more vigourously.

Adele smiles. 'Just twelve then. I'm rather enjoying playing dominant. I might keep you like this for a while.'

Behind the hood Contesse to Renee smiles.

Adele feels her lover come as she spanks her. The brunette lies across her knees, still hooded and gagged and dressed in the collar, corset and toe boots; the breast cuffs are still laced tightly around the base of each of her large breasts and her arms are still sheathed and laced tightly together.

'We'd better make that two dozen.'

The Contesse shakes her head, mewling into her gag and struggling though not too hard. The orgasm was inevitable, Adele knows, from the state in which she found her mistress on returning to the bed chamber. While the blonde was doing her rounds the brunette had somehow resisted the urge to climax though the scent of her body and sheen of sweat on her skin suggested an hour of frantic struggling.

Contesse de Renee comes again.

'I hope you're not planning on sitting down any time soon.'

Contesse de Renee shakes her head letting out what Adele guesses is a gagged laugh.

'Good.' Adele brings her hand down harder than usual on the helpless woman's bottom generating a gagged squeal. 'Only nineteen more.'

Contesse de Renee lies on her back on the bed, her sheathed arms pinned beneath and her booted legs spread wide. Her bottom throbs with a delightful warmth and her sex is hot with pleasure. The cuffs on her breasts make them throb and she longs for them her chest to be handled roughly, whipped and, if she is lucky, bitten by her lover. Though she has come several times her body craves more and she knows that any touch to her nipples or sex will push her over the edge again. Steadying her breathing she opens her eyes to see Adele standing over her; the blonde's large breasts are still packaged in the deliciously tight rubber bra, their big nipples, poking through the tips of the cups, stiffly erect and swollen to twice their usual size.

I might make that your new uniform. I wonder what they'd think in Council ?

Adele smiles down.

'Comfy ?'

The contesse nods.

'Then I think it's time you served your mistress.' Adele pauses then adds. 'Mistress.'

Contesse de Renee nods again, smiling around her gag.

'Just as well you made me dress in these open crotch knickers then. I won't have to waste time taking them off.'

Adele climbs onto the bed, straddling her mistress' shoulders and sits back onto her chest watching her lover's nostrils flare as the helpless woman struggles to breathe with the blonde's weight on her chest.

'I hope you're not suggesting I'm getting too heavy.'

The contesse shakes her head and Adele reaches down to loosen the hood so she can remove the contesse's gag.

'Thank you, Mistress.' The contesse's gratitude is genuine though it is not clear whether this is for removing the gag or the bondage and punishment she is enjoying.

Adele smiles down at her and strokes her fingers across the smooth leather of the hood.

'Time to demonstrate that gratitude.

'Yes, Mistress.'

The blonde shuffles forward, lowering her sex onto the helpless brunette's mouth and the contesse is overwhelmed by the scent of her lover mixed with that of the tight rubber knickers.

Yes, this will definitely be your new uniform. And I haven't dragged you round in a leash for a while.

'You'd better do a good job or you'll be spending the night in some fairly intense bondage.'

'I'm not sure you should have said that, Mistress.' The contesse's words are muffled by Adele's sex, her lips pressing themselves against the swollen, dripping flesh.

'If you don't try your hardest I will just have to let you go.' Adele holds her mistress' leather covered head between her hands.

'Your slave will do her best, Mistress.' The contesse rakes her tongue along her lover's sex and feels Adele squirm.

Good girl.

A jerk on Hannah's clamped nipples brings her quickly to a run. She can feel the snow give, creaking beneath her booted feet with every step and the chill of the air on her bare skin; as well as the fur boots, the heroine wears only a fur hood that gags her and covers her eyes, a small hole allows her to draw air into her nose and, occasionally her mouth as she is exercised; her arms are bound behind her at the wrist and elbow with leather thongs and the clamps on her nipples are made of two long shards of bone, bound in place by leather.

She has run for what she estimates is an hour and then been allowed to rest for a few minutes before being lead on again. She is used to physical training though not running and wishes she has had more practice; as she pants the cold air burns her lungs and she can feel crystals of ice on the fur around her mouth.

This can't be natural.

It is her first morning at Castle Strangeways and, after a night sleeping helpless and upright in the box she woke feeling stiff. She has been fed, allowed to relieve herself and then restrained in her current bondage. As she was being restrained Hannah noticed the other prisoners in the dungeon were being released from their nocturnal restraints and then bound in a similar manner to her.

'Adele ?'

'My Lady.' Adele bows formally as Pauline enters to operations room of the palace.

'Adele...' Pauline cannot help but appear a little hesitant. 'I was wondering... Now I'm back in Harmony it is important for me to learn more about the ways of...governance.'

Adele nods. 'I am certain you mother will instruct you when she feels it is the right time.'

'I mean really learn.' Pauline smiles disarmingly. 'Learn how the city runs.'

'My Lady, your mother is far more capable than I of such a thing.'

'Oh, Adele. You know as much as my mother.' She winks conspiratorially. 'Probably more.'

'I keep your mother fully briefed of affairs in Harmony.'

'I'm sure you do. Even when she will look on things less favourably.' Pauline looks meaningfully at Adele's breasts. The advisor is wearing a high cut bustier but the bruising from her recent whippings is clearly visible where it has spread across the skin of her chest. 'But mum's a busy woman. You don't bother her with every detail do you ?'

'There are some minor issues that I choose not to burdon the contesse with.'

'Like the whereabouts of Boot Girl ?' Pauline tries not to allow any emotion into her voice.

Adele frowns suspiciously.

Pauline attempts to shrug noncommittally. 'It was just an example.' She hugs her arms to her breasts and turns to the console in front of them. 'There must be loads of stuff you can teach me.'

'What does My Lady wish to know ?'

'Oh come on, Adele. Everything ! What's going on in the city, who's doing what...and where.'

'Would My Lady care to give an example ?' Adele conceals a smile.

'Oh...what the villainesses are up to...' Pauline looks sideways at her mentor. '...the gangs...Lady Simone...and other stuff.'

'Some people hang pictures on their walls you know.' It is Hannah's third night in Castle Strangeways and the heroine is once again spreadeagle on the wall of Lady Bishop's chamber; though at least she is no longer just hanging by her wrists; she is, however, still naked.

Lady Bishop frowns. 'I did not bring you here purely to decorate my wall.'

'So why am I here ?'

'Surely you must have figured that out by now.' The Mistress of Strangeways sits at her chessboard opposite the heroine.'

'Well, it isn't because of my chess playing skills.'

'Indeed not.' Lady Bishop almost suppresses the urge to smile.

'So why am I here ?'

'To train.'

'Yes, I know that but...why...'

'At risk of sounding like the wise teacher in a cheap adventure novel I could remind you that, sometimes, to obtain the correct answer, one must ask the correct question.'

'Alright.' Hannah pauses. 'Why did you chose to bring me here to train me.'

'Because you were in need of it.' Lady Bishop looks down at the board.

Hannah sighs.

'It would be easier for me to play if I wasn't chained to your wall.'

'Yes, I'm sure it would but, speaking once again as your wise teacher, I might use this as a metaphor for the importance of...hanging back...and taking in the whole picture.'

'Very funny. So you want to train my mind as well as my body. But why me ? Why you ? Why now ?'

'Because you need training, I can provide it and I would consider myself remiss if Boot Girl wound up dead at the bottom of the River Teese or, more worryingly if, through her action someone else end up dead in the River Teese.' Lady Bishop looks meaningfully at Hazel who is restrained in another of the antique conditioning machines. 'Now, shall we play ?'

'Queen's slave to queen-four.'

'A rather predictable opening move.'

'Perhaps I'm a rather predictable girl.'

Oh no, Hannah Pink. You are far from that.


Part 8: Northern Rites (added: 2017/10/15)

'You haven't mentioned Boot Girl for over a week.'

'Indeed, Mistress.' Adele watches nervously as the contesse's long whip strokes the top of her bare breasts. 'She does not appear to have been active.'

'I'd prefer it if you told me you had captured her and were preparing to send her for trial.' The contesse taps the whip gently against Adele's skin as she speaks.

'Not yet, Mistress, but we will.'

The contesse brings the whip down hard on the top of Adele's breasts. The heavy bruises she sustained as punishment, though not overtly stated as such, for the brunette's night spent in toe boots and rubber bondage are fading to a yellow brown. Adele's buttocks show similar signs of abuse.

Adele is confined, naked, in the pillory in the contesse's penthouse apartment.

'Sometimes, Adele, I think you are protecting her.' Lady de Renee delivers another sharp blow making Adele tense in her bondage.

'Madam...'

'Oh, spare me your protests, Adele.' Another lash. 'She was here in this building, Adele and you let her go.' Another. 'Which reminds me, have you found my missing statue ?'

Adele looks up at her lover.

'Not yet, Mistress.' She tenses, expecting another stroke but it does not materialise.

'You don't think Lady Devonshire really did take it do you ?'

'It is a possibility, Madam. There are no other leads and the guards did say she appeared to have emerged from your apartment.'

'They also said they saw my daughter who was very clearly chained up in the punishment room throughout the whole affair, poor girl.'

Adele earns another stripe and feels it is unwise to point out to her mistress that Pauline was restrained, not chained in the punishment room.

'What about the riot ?'

'My sources suggest it was this 'La Donna' who instigated it, suppling the gangs with drugs to create civil unrest.'

'That's all we need. Any more information on this 'La Donna' ?'

'My sources describe a aristocratic brunette with a southern accent wearing a cage skirt and trailing a very buxom and very naked slave behind her.'

'That's a description of the Lady Simone.'

'Indeed, Madam.'

'So are you telling me that Lady Simone, Queen of Donia and Lady Devonshire, the Angelsisch ambassadress are criminal masterminds set on stealing the city's treasures and inciting revolt ?'

'It is a possibility, Madam.' Adele speaks carefully, aware that the turn of the conversation has at least distracted her mistress' attention from her slave's openly displayed and easily punishable breasts. 'The southern Kingdom has long resented its subservience to Bellania.'

'Surely she would not act so brazenly.'

Adele shrugs as best she can in her bondage.

'And the Angelisch ?' Lady de Renee resumes caressing of her slave's breasts using the whip.

'There has been a long history of enmity between the Angeland and Belladonia. We consider them scheming and secretive with an unstable political structure, warring houses...'

'Perhaps you are right.' Lady de Renee shivers then a smile creeps on to her face. 'Just as well I've got you to protect me.'

'Indeed Madam.'

Lady de Renee brings the whip down hard on Adele's breasts once more then drops to her knees in front of the kneeling slave. She gazes for a few moments at her lover's face and then leans forward, brushing the helpless woman's lips with her own. The movement makes their large breasts rub gently together and the contesse can feel her nipples harden.

Adele returns the kiss.

'You remember the other night ?'

'Mistress ?'

'When you dressed in rubber and restrained me.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Adele continues to kiss her lover as they talk.

'You like rubber don't you ?'

'Very much, Mistress.'

'Good.' Contesse de Renee smiles. 'I have a little surprise for you.'

'New chess set ?' Hannah is restrained in a leather straight jacket and ankle shackles; a muzzle hangs in front of her throat. She is chained to her chair by a heavy chain that is padlocked around her neck.

'This set is almost a thousand years old.'

'Sure about that ?'

'Quite sure.' Lady Bishop's smile carries the faint hint of amusement. 'Do you know the story of chess ?'

'I'm sure you're going to tell me.'

'It was devised and played by the Pre'stkwe'in and spread north via merchants traveling through Donia. This particular version, well the original, was sent as a threat from the Prest'kwein queen, Bet'zeba, a reminder of her clone armies, identical, ever advancing. In Donia they are called 'slaves' but that is a corruption of sla'ev, the pre'stkwe'in for clone. You will note that your warriors are a variety of units. Bet'zeba was making a point with this. Then there are her airships.' Lady Bishop gestures to the dirigibles at the edge of the board. 'Ships in the sky that sweep across the field of battle raining fire on the enemy, destroying all in their path. Your artillery have the same power on the board but they are not perhaps quite so intimidating on the battlefield. The roc riders of the captured cities are an easy match for your cavalry and then there are my Djz'abl, Bet'zeba's clone assassins.'

'Jezabels ?' Hannah smiles. 'Mythical warriors who could walk through walls and see in total darkness.'

'Djz-a-bl.' Lady Bishop articulates the word carefully. 'I am certain they cannot walk through walls but it is clear they were remarkably adept at penetrating even the most heavily guarded fortification in pursuit of their quarry.'

'And could they turn into bats and fly ?'

Madam Bondage smiles. 'Shall we play ?'

Contesse de Renee is dressed in a tight rubber suit that is stretched over her luscious body. The latex is almost translucent and gossamer thin so that every detail is gloriously displayed in one shining enticing package.

'Well ?' Lady de Renee smiles, turning to allow Adele to see the shiny material stretched taut over her perfect buttocks.

'Delightful, Madam.'

The contesse turns back with a frown. 'Is that the best you can do ?' Lady de Renee still carries the discipline whip and gently runs the tip over the kneeling woman's bare breasts.

'You are quite beautiful, Madam.'

Lady de Renee brings the whip down hard. 'You're not toadying to your queen now ! We are alone.'

'Forgive me, Mistress.'

The contesse delivers three more strokes to her lover's breasts. 'I'm sure you used to be a lot more spontaneous.'

'If I were not restrained, Mistress, I might be able to act with a little more spontaneity.'

'Might you now.' Lady de Renee delivers another two strikes to Adele's breasts which are beginning to turn red. 'And perhaps you are suggesting that I take your place so you can spank me again.'

Adele smiles. 'You did rather seem to enjoy it, Mistress.'

'Did I now ?' Lady de Renee walks behind the kneeling blonde. 'Then perhaps I should return the favour.'

'Count.' Lady de Renee begins to whip her helpless lover.

Hannah kneels, her arms still bound tightly behind her back, eating gruel from a wooden bowl placed on the ground before her. The gruel is grey and unpleasant but after her morning run she is hungry and licks the bowl clean, her tongue stud clicking against the wood. There is little time to rest and she eats quickly before lapping water from a similar bowl.

Though the pzorich spend the morning running hooded and leashed their afternoon provides a relative degree of freedom; their arms are freed and then heavy cuffs are locked around their wrists, ankles and necks. They are, of course, kept naked.

They then spend the afternoon in a series of physical challenges, jumping over hurdles, climbing, crawling around obstacles and passing heavy iron weights from hand to hand. Any girl caught slacking is caned by the guards. Some of the tasks are organised in the form of contests so that whereas the morning is spent in isolation, the afternoon involves some camaraderie though the girls are kept gagged.

Hannah has noticed there are broadly two types of pzorich: small agile ones of similar build to herself and larger more statuesque girls like Agnetha and the other guards. She has heard the term 'Valkree' applied to the former and it is in this group she often finds herself. In spite of their small size, these girls have a wiry strength that exceeds her own and she is often responsible for her 'team' losing ground against the larger fighting women who Lady Bishop has referred to as Swordmaidens. As a consequence she is generally ignored by both groups.

'So how do you know what's going on ?' Pauline has spent three days with Adele.

'I have a variety of sources.'

'Oh, come on, Adele. If I'm to be of any use you need to trust me a little.'

'Indeed, My Lady.' Adele is walking stiffly, a clear indication to Pauline that she has been punished by the contesse the previous night. 'Though I don't recall agreeing to you working with me.'

Pauline watches Adele sit awkwardly at the communications desk.

'We use a combination of police reports, informants, surveillance cameras. Now, I must ask you you leave for a few moments. I am about to receive information from a trusted and secret source.'

'Tell me, Hannah, what do you know of the Sylphic kingdom ?'

Hannah screws up her face in concentration. It is probably the first question Lady Bishop has asked to which she knows the answer.

'It's now part of Angeland. The Sylphs were independent for centuries though they're ruled by the Angelisch queen now. It was the Sylphs who developed much of what we now think of as the Angelisch fighting style.'

'Very good.' Lady Bishop smiles.

'I think Sylphic terrorists still blow thing up in Soho sometimes.'

'You are surprisingly well versed in foreign affairs.'

'Oh, you know, I try.' Hannah pouts. 'When I'm not being kept in chains.' She wriggles in her bonds for emphasis but succeeds only in setting the heavy weights clamped to her nipples swinging. Hannah is being punished, arms strapped tightly to a heavy wooden yoke that she has been carrying while training for the last two days. The yoke is punishment for spitting out her food, the bland porridge she has endured for breakfast every morning of her confinement. Agnetha had been, in Hannah's opinion, surprisingly upset at her charge's behaviour and had shown no remorse for imposing the punishment. The yoke, of course, slowed Hannah when she ran and, as a consequence she has a very sore bottom from the canes of the guards who seem to take no account of her extra encumberance. It is thus, almost a relief that she is made to kneel rather than sit in front of Lady Bishop, her clamped clitoris chained to a ring in the stone floor.

Hannah thus watches helplessly as Lady Bishop opens a wooden box and begins to set pieces out on the board.

'This is a Sylphic set.' Madam Bondage has finished setting out the pieces. 'This is what we would call the crown.' Madam Bondage holds up one of the pieces that depicts a girl chained to a pole.

'Doesn't look much like a crown to me.'

'And you don't look much like a heroine.'

Hannah feels herself begin to blush.

'Perhaps the use of this set is most appropriate tonight in view of your punishment. In Sylphide the chess set represents the process of justice. In ancient times, long before the Angelisch wars, the accused and accuser were chained to posts and their supporters would attempt to stone the opposing protagonist while protecting their own.'

'Sounds pretty brutal.'

'Those were brutal times. I believe the process has now evolved into a game which is played quite widely in the Sylphic provinces and is even followed to some degree in Angeland.'

'Who the fuck are you ?' Fetish looks up to see a redheaded girl, small and lithe in a tight-fitting wing suit.

'I'm Red Kite.' The girl smiles. 'And you must be Fetish.'

Fetish is crouched over a stunning, naked, brunette strapping her into a black leather slave harness; another brunette lies beside her already tightly restrained, beautiful dark eyes wide over the leather muzzle hiding the lower part of her face. There is a tazer lying beside her.

'May I enquire what you are doing ?' Red Kite's voice is softly accented.

'Working. Now fuck off unless you want to join the these two !'

'That's really not very polite.' The redhead frowns. 'You need to learn some manners.'

Red Kite takes a step forward and Fetish rises leaving her victim lying on her side; the girl's arms are bound to her sides and her legs are strapped tightly together; at that moment her eyes open, displaying a second of confusion, then she realises she is bound and starts to squirm in her tight bondage. Red Kite and Fetish watch as she rolls over and spots her helpless companion. The gagged girl's eyes brighten as if she is smiling.

It is the distraction Fetish has been waiting for, or so she thinks, and the villainess dives for the tazer, rolling and turning to level it at Red Kite but the redhead is gone.

Fetish turns in surprise looking for her opponent.

A heavy blow to the side of the villainess' neck drops her to the concrete.

Red Kite crouches beside her victim, ensuring the villainess is fully unconscious then turns to the gagged girl and unbuckles her muzzle.

'Hold still. I will untie you.'

'There's no rush.' The brunette smiles with a pair of full, luscious lips that have just been exposed by the removal of her gag.

'I mean we're not going anywhere.' Her friend, now apparently fully recovered from the tazer blast, is lying helpless in her harness behind the redhead who turns to look at her. 'Not now anyway.' The first brunette speaks again and Red Kite turns back somewhat perplexed by the direction this encounter is taking. 'I believe Fetish was planning to enslave you.'

'Yes, she was !' The recently ungagged girl's voice carries a note of...disappointment ?

'And you have saved us.' The second girl's tone is more hostile.

'I suppose we should thank you.' Ungagged girl's manner softens.

'There is no need.' Red Kite moves to release her.

'Saved us from a life of slavery...' The second girl shows no evidence of conciliation.

'We would have been kept naked...'

'...in tight bondage...' First girl picks up on her companion's thoughts.

'...subjected to hours of conditioning...'

'...kept in a state of constant arousal...'

'...forced to endure multiple orgasms as the whim of our mistress...'

The girls' sigh in unison.

'You will soon be free to go.' Red Kite looks from one helpless girl to another.

'Yes.' The first brunette smiles somewhat sadly. 'I suppose we should thank you for rescuing us.'

'There is no need.' Red Kite finds herself on more familiar territory.

'Oh, but there is.' The second girl arches in her bonds rubbing the nipples of as perfect a pair of breasts as money can buy against Red Kite's boot.

'And, even if we didn't want to, we could hardly stop you helping yourself to a little reward for your bravery.' The first girl squirms closer and presses her full lips to the toes of the heroine's other boot.

Red Kite looks from one to the other in confusion.

'Your game is improving, Hannah.'

'Thank you, Madam.'

'You are starting to think further ahead before you move.' Lady Bishop stands and stretches. 'I realise it is late and, if you wish, I will permit you to stay here tonight.'

Hannah looks up at the statuesque northerner.

'Thank you, Madam but I...' Hannah is not quite sure how to phrase the question. 'How do I say I'm very sorry in Nordish ?'

'Ja regtic siorch.' Lady Bishop smiles. 'I will call Agnafred to take you back to the cells.'

'You have both been very diligent in your gratitude.' Red Kite zips up her costume and runs her hands through her thick red hair. Her face is still flushed and she can still taste the girls on her tongue. For two almost identical foreigners they were surprisingly different 'flavours'; Red Kite is not sure she is using the correct Bellanian word.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Odette, the girl whom Fetish had gagged kneels in her harness. Her legs are no longer strapped together but her arms are still restrained.

'We aim to please.' Jemima, her companion who had been tazered, lies on her back with her legs spread; her ankles are crossed and strapped together, like Odette, her arms are still restrained in the harness; the crotch straps of both girl's harnesses are undone.

'We really are grateful that you rescued us.'

'Honest.'

'I had better untie you.' Red Kite stands to regain control of the situation.

'Yes.' Odette sounds crestfallen.

'Could we thank you again sometime ?' Jemima has shown herself to be the most pragmatic of the two.

'That would depend on whether you got into trouble again.'

'Oh !'

'The docks are not a safe part of your city.' Red Kite is familiar with the layout of Harmony. 'It is a place frequented by villainesses and smugglers.'

'Slavers too.' Jemima adds helpfully.

'It is thus not safe for two high born women such as yourselves to walk here alone.'

'No, I suppose it isn't.' Odette does not appear to display any contrition.

'I suspect you would both be highly desirable to slavers.'

'Yes...' Odette's voice sounds a little dreamy. 'I think we must be.' She looks at Jemima.

'We will have to be more careful where we walk.' Jemima winks.

'Where are your clothes ?' Red Kite looks around and can only see two sets of very skimpy lace underwear lying on the road beside them.

There is a fading flush on the brunettes' cheeks but when Red Kite looks at them they both blush.

'I think Fetish must have thrown them into the river.' Odette forces a smile.

'It's nearly dark. Nobody will notice if we go home in our underwear.'

Red Kite begins to release the girls.

It is Hannah's twelfth day as a guest at Castle Strangeways and she is enjoying her morning run. The routine has become familiar now and, she thinks, the exercise has become slightly easier, particularly after her release from the punishing yoke. Even running hooded on a nipple leash she is becoming familiar with the route and knows they will probably be stopping at the top of the current rise. She thinks 'they' because she assumes the other prisoners are exercised with her.

They can't all be heroines in need of training.

They reach the top of the rise and Boot Girl feels a blast of icy air on her bare skin that makes her clamped nipples stand rigidly to attention.

'Storsh !' She hears one of the guards call out and then a rapid discussion in Nordish which, even if it was not muffled by her hood she would have been unable to follow.

She is turned around and lead back down the rise.

Hey, what about my rest ?

However, the pull on her nipples is irresistible and she follows obediently. Then, suddenly she is thrown down onto her belly. She expects to feel the chill of the snow on her body but here is fur beneath her and as she rolls, trying to rise, a body presses itself against her, then another joins it on the other side and then she feels something pulled over her body.

So there are a few of us.

She can feel bare flesh against hers and there are bodies around her squirming.

'Storsh !'

Storm ?

And then she hears the howl of the wind, roaring in her ears despite the hood, and feels it buffet the blanket of skins over her. Even through the protection she can feel the chill and begins to shiver, aware that all around her are doing the same. The bodies pressed against her provide some warmth and she can't help but rub herself against the girl next to her.

Suddenly she feels fingers brushing her chest and assumes it is an accidental contact but then the fingers locate her right nipple and begin to play with it. More fingers begin to toy with her other nipple and she thinks it must be one of her fellow prisoners.

Hannah has not had sex for nearly two weeks now, and the teasing fingers quickly have her panting.

You could take the clamps off.

As if reading her mind the fingers slide the bone clamps off her nipples and then continue to tease them.

I like you.

She feels the hands slide down her body, naked buttocks press against her knees and then the fingers slip between her thighs.

I like you a lot.

The fingers tease and Hannah comes quickly, gasping into her gag, her body shuddering with pleasure.

Gaia, I needed that.

She rolls over, hoping to find the girl waiting for her, more than willing to return the favour and finds the hands which she squeezes; the palms are coarse, toughened like most of the northern girls, and they squeeze back though make no attempt to untie her wrists or guide her hands into a more advantageous position and, when she tries to pick at the knots of the girl's bonds, the hands are pulled away from her.

Then Hannah feels another hand on her body, a single, free arm reaches over her and then another slides beneath her neck, lips caress her shoulder and the hands begin to tease her nipples; she writhes in delight, quickly aroused by the intimate contact; the hands slide lower, caressing her belly and she feels the girl's breasts and hard nipples against her back.

Gaia !

She presses herself back seeking out the other girl's sex with her bound hands and finds it slick and warm. The fingers in her own sex and the lips on her neck still briefly though the hood and roar of the wind conceal any further response. The unseen fingers continue to caress her, stroking the edges of her sex and then teasing her clitoris. She is close to orgasm again, a more relaxed and enjoyable one than the rapid response of her desperate body a few minutes earlier. Her own fingers continue to tease the unknown girl behind her but the the girl pushes them away though continues with one hand to tease the gasping blonde.

Don't stop now !

The lips turn to teeth and bite her neck and the fingers push themselves into her sex.

Gaia !

Hannah comes hard. She is still gasping as the hands fumble with the bottom of her hood and then untie her gag. She gasps in air through her mouth, tasting the scent of the girls around her. Her hood is not removed.

So you want to kiss me ? Hannah rolls over seeking the girl's lips.

Oh, that sort of kissing !

Hannah's head is forced in a direction that can only be described as 'down' and then her mouth is pulled against the girl's sex which is very wet; she is engulfed by typical scent of a northern girl.

I wonder which one you are.

She smiles and runs her tongue over the labia being careful not to touch them with her tongue stud and feels thighs clamp tightly about her head.

So you like that then.

She uses the tip of her tongue to flick the girl's clitoris and feels another spasm.

I might be the one in bondage here, but I think I'm the one in control.

A fist grabs her hood and pulls her in again.

Or, maybe I'm not...

She licks the slick labia more forcefully and then uses her stud to flick the girl's clitoris, a spasm of the thighs confirms her approach is well received and she pushes her tongue inside the girl's sex using the stud the tease the northerner's clitoris.

The thighs spasm violently and the grip on her hood tightens.

Deep down we're all the same.

She continues to drive her tongue in and out of the girl's sex as the northerner comes again and again, clamping her head tighter and tighter until she cannot breath.

Let's hope you're satisfied soon my horny vixen.

Hannah's head is swimming. Fortunately, the girl relaxes before Boot Girl loses consciousness and rolls to the side though her fist remains tightly wound in the fur of Hannah's hood. As Hannah gasps another hand, probably belonging to the girl she has just satisfied slides inside her hood and strokes her cheek.

If you're telling me I'm a good girl you're absolutely right.

Then the girls rolls over, still holding onto Hannah's hood and begins to pull her through the mass of bodies. A tongue rakes down her belly and someone teases her nipples but before she can respond she feels another hand grasp her hood and the original one relax. Her mouth is guided to another pussy.

I think that must be recommendation.

For the next few hours Hannah is passed from one girl to the next, her tongue stud apparently earning her quite an interest. At some point she loses her hood but the darkness in the heart of the storm and below the furs is almost total and the hands passing her around simply use her hair. Though she remains bound throughout and is used like a pleasure slave she enjoys the interest of several other girls, including, judging by the way she is held, one of her guards who's skills with her tongue appear to be almost as remarkable as her own.

When Hannah opens her eyes it is light and, a moment later the bright sunlight dazzles her as the fur blanket is pulled away from her. She lies naked and blinking, her wrists still bound tightly behind her back. The other pzorich lie beside her, some still hooded and some not. At a command from the guards she struggles to her feet, aware of the strange mix of the sun on her bare skin and the icy kiss of the wind.

She sees Agnetha standing before her pulling up the shoulder strap of her fur bikini. The redhead gives her a warm smile and a knowing wink and then holds up her hood.

'You're going to hood me again ?'

'Of course. You don't want to be snow blindness.'

'Do you have to gag me ?'

Agnetha grins. 'It seem rather a shame, does not it ?'

A few of those around her laugh at the joke.

'Is that Castle Strangeways ?' Hannah nods in the direction of a low wall with two high towers several miles distant. 'I thought it would be bigger.'

'The keep is builded into the edge of the ice shelf. You see the curtains wall and the eyries.' Agnetha smiles. 'Now, open up.'

'What's that ?' Without the use of her hands, Hannah gestures with her head.

A dark shape lifts from the eyrie on the right hand side and begins to circle gaining height.

'Are the sending a flyer for us ?' Hannah follows the shape.

Agnetha turns to look.

'Valkree. Er...rider of the roc.'

'A roc rider ? Really.' Hannah is genuinely excited. 'Please don't hood me.'

'Alright but I must to gag you. Open.'

Hannah opens her mouth and allows the redhead to push in the wadding of her gag before turning to allow the northerner to secure it behind her head. She finds several of the guards and prisoners looking at her coyly.

Well, I've made an impression at least.

When she turns back the huge bird with its rider is closer. The bird resembles an eagle but is much bigger and as it descends the draught of it's wings blows up flurries of snow. The bird's wings are a few dozen feet across and its beak at least three feet long. The rider on its back slips agily from the saddle. She is, like all the other northerners, redheaded and pale skinned, dressed in a fur bikini. She is shorter than the swordmaidens around Hannah and much more lightly built; Hannah now realises why there are similar girls among the pzorich and, as the rider passes one, she slips a fist in her hair and kisses the girl fully on the mouth. The pzorich returns the kiss with equal passion despite her recent excesses.

'Vie ist, Brie ?'

'Goode. Aleksi.' The girl is bound like Hannah and her hood and gag are around her neck.

'I muss ju.' The rider strokes the girl's cheek.

'Enush !' Agnafred intervenes and Aleksi turns to face a long stream of Nordish which Hannah thinks involves the newly arrived rider 'entering to pzorich'. Aleksi bows, making the sign of the warrior though, Hannah notices, she spreads the fingers of her open hand.

An exchange is rapid Nordish follows.

'Ja. Ju mag geht.' Agnafred appears to dismiss the rider rather condescendingly. Aleksi bows again and makes the sign then turns giving Brie a sharp slap on the bottom before leaping onto the back of the bird and launching into the sky with a rush of air and flurry of snow.

Hannah watches her go until the fur hood is pulled over her head and buckled tightly then the bone clamps are fastened back onto her nipples.

Ten minutes later she is running through the snow.

'An eventful day.' Agnetha holds a cup of liquid to Hannah's lips and the heroine, once again helpless in her box takes a drink.

'Is this alcohol ?'

'Shh.' Agnetha looks around urgently. 'It is not permitted in pzorich.'

'Can you define pzorich ?' The converse in a mix of Bellanian and Nordish.

'Pzorich is the month when we train, when we purify ourselves again. Every year for one cycle of the moon shield maidens and valkree must endure pzorich. We abstain from...pleasure...train our bodies.'

'Does this training involve fighting. Will I get to swing a sword.'

Agnetha laughs. 'Usually, yes, but I think you must first be...fitter.'

'Hey. I'm pretty fit.'

'And you will become more so during your pzorich. I think that the Mistress sees greatness in you.'

'I recon I fight pretty well. I'd go a few rounds with one of your swordmaidens.'

'And you will have an opportunity. If not then with the ensigns.'

'Ensigns ?'

'Girls who wish to become warriors, shieldmaidens or valkree must prove themselves in combat. They then become Ensigns.'

'Are they the girls in collars and chastity belts ?'

Agnetha grins. 'You are learning our ways. Perhaps you could compete to be come Ensign.'

'How long is the training ?'

'Two years.'

'Two years in a chastity belt ?'

'The rewards are great. Anyway one cannot wear chastity belts outside so, like pzorich there are always...exceptions. It is also a motivator to train. The girls who do best have their belts removed for a night as a reward.'

'And they fight you for a place ?'

'No, they fight each other. They would be no match for a fully trained warrior.'

'So who do the pzorich fight ?'

'We train, we do not fight except in recknung, of course. Then we fight each other.'

'Recknung ?'

'It is...tradition. At the end of pzorich...we fight...we feast...' Agnetha smiles slightly wistfully. 'Then the victor then binds the vanquished and enjoys her for a night.'

'So you train, then you fight, then you have sex.'

Agnetha shrugs. 'Pretty much. After fighting we drink a lot too.'

'And I get to do all this at the end of the month.'

'Of course.'

Another of the guards comes over and whispers something to Agnetha. There is a brief exchange which seems to involve gesticulating with tongues. Agnetha dismisses her colleague.

'Freya is disappointed she missed the training today. She has heard about your...talent.' Agnetha grins and pushes a spoonful of stew into Hannah's mouth. 'I think I will have to use the brank on you tonight. I cannot stand guard on you all the time.'

Hannah chews, shrugging as best she can in her bondage. She swallows.

'So tell me about the riders, the...valkree. Do swordmaidens and valkree have a bit of a rivalry ?'

'Well...they are rather arrogant.'

'It's not the swordmaidens then ?'

'Of course not'. Agnetha is genuinely shocked. 'You saw the way Aleksi behaved in front of Agnafred.'

'Oh.' Hannah nods and opens her mouth for more food.

'Open.'

Hannah opens her mouth to accept the brank but as Agnetha lifts it a thought occurs to her. 'Don't you want to have one more go ?'

Agnetha looks puzzled and Hannah makes a show of looking around.

'There's nobody else here. If you sat just there on the edge of the box I could give you one more taste of my tongue-stud.'

Agnetha's eyes widen. 'It is not permitted. I would be severely punished.'

'And you'd mind that ? It appears to me your a bunch of sado-masochistic bitches.' Hannah grins. 'No different from home really.'

'What you propose I highly wrong. I could never do it. You are in pzorich.'

'It didn't bother you earlier.'

'That was in storsh.'

'Well, let's pretend we're in storsh now.'

'Never, and I should punish you for suggesting it.'

Hannah pokes out her tongue to show her stud. 'I heard you moaning when I went between your legs. You want it like we all want it.'

'Not in pzorich.'

'You're not in pzorich. Can't you use me any way you want to ?'

'Not in pzorich. Open.'

Hannah opens her mouth and allows herself to be gagged.

'I thought you were going to have me conditioned.' Tamzin is kneeling before her mistress. The redhead is naked and has been kept so since her arrival. Hooded and restrained in the hold of the flyer for the journey she is not yet entirely sure exactly where she is and, when she asks her mistress, seems to receive a rather vague reply. She has heard Donian being spoken so assumes they are somewhere in the south, consistent with Jezebel's warning about the terms of her slavery.

'I don't recall giving you permission to speak.' Jezebel looks down at the kneeling girl. The villainess is sitting in a heavily padded armchair with her long legs folded beneath her. 'Slave !' She adds pointedly.

'Perhaps you should gag me.' Though she is now technically a chattel of her mistress and naked, kneeling with her wrists cuffed behind her she choses not to be cowed.

'Most southern mistresses would have you flogged until you learned to curb you tongue.'

'Then flog me.'

'You'd enjoy it too much.' Jezebel smiles. 'Besides, if I punished you for every misdemeanor you'd be black and blue by now.'

'I thought you liked blue things.'

'I do. I also like a little peace and quiet sometimes.'

'You promise to gag me later then ?'

'I do not believe conditioning you would be of any value. You are already as submissive as I require. Your move.'

The pair are playing chess in the villainess' chambers.

Tamsin leans forward and picks up her queen's clone with her mouth, moving it one space up the board.

'Good move.'

'Mistress is most gracious to her flatter her worthless slave.' Tamzin bows her head, eyelids fluttering flirtaciously, her town overly submissive, a smile curling her lips.

Jezebel smiles too then stretches . 'Perhaps we have played long enough tonight.'

'Are you ordering me to bed ?'

'Yes. Is that a task you are capable of completing silently ?'

'Yes, Mistress.' Tamzin kneels up and begins to crawl towards Jezebel's huge silken bed.

Boot Girl blocks a cane that is heading for her cheek and takes a sharp blow to her buttocks.

'Hey !'

Another cane strikes her across the chest catching one of her nipples.

'Concentrarsh !' Her trainer, Birgit, is Valkree, slightly smaller than Hannah herself, red-headed and blue eyed, of course; clad in furs. She is assisted by Liv, also Valkree. Both wield two canes each and, no matter how hard Hannah tries, she cannot prevent the welts and bruises that are starting to multiply across her skin.

After two weeks in Castle Strangeways, Hannah has finally been allowed to undertake combat training although she is rapidly wishing the was still running through the snow hooded and nipple clamped.

'You appear to have endured extensive training today.' Madam Bondage smiles as she sits in front of Hannah across the chessboard.

Hannah shrugs, scowling. Her body is covered in welts and bruises from her combat training. She is no longer hung by the wrists in Lady Bishop's chamber when they play but her arms are tightly restrained behind her in a slave sheath and her ankles are cuffed. She is still kept naked.

'Perhaps we should have a little wager for our final game tonight ?' Madam Bondage smiles.

'Oh, yes, that would be great. Let me guess; if you win I get to spend the night in chains and then take a beating from your Valkree tomorrow.

'I am pleased to see your spirit remains undaunted.'

There is a soft cry from behind Madam Bondage and Hannah looks across at Hazel. The slave is restrained in another archaic clockwork device. She lies on her belly in what is essentially a hogtie, her arms locked in shackles behind her back and her legs also chained and folded up. Her head is caged in a brank similar to the one Hannah is locked into at night. As the device tightens her head is pulled further back and her body is drawn into an increasingly tight curve. The position lifts her chest and stretches her clamped nipples.

Madam Bondage raises an eyebrow.

'No !' Hannah shakes her head.

'I'm told the devices are quite...stimulating.'

Hazel is penetrated, all the devices in which she is imprisoned offer a similar mix of pain and pleasure. She has learnt from Lady Bishop that the devices are Sylphic in origin, used to torment Angelisch prisoners, conditioning them with a mix of physical torture and intense pleasure.

The device in which Hazel is confined, when it allows her legs to straighten, teases her sex, the brass dildo driving in and out of her with increasing vigour while mechanical whips begin the strike her buttocks and bare feet; punished and teased like this, the slave has come repeatedly and forcefully, jerking in her bonds until the device has pulled her back into the intense hogtie at which point vibrating devices begin to stimulate her nipples and clamped sex until she climaxes again.

'Hell, you can pretty much do anything you want to me. What have I got to lose ?'

Madam Bondage smiles broadly.

Hannah starts awake as a static shock discharges though her clamped nipples. She jerks in her bonds for a moment realising she must have dozed off. She is confined in one of Lady Bishop's antique conditioning machines, held upright by a chain from the top of the brank locked about her head and the phallus on which she is impaled.

She knows what is coming next and hears the click of the mechanism, opening her eyes to see the spinning counterweights descend, flashing in the dim light as they spin, driving the dildo further inside her and then gently withdrawing it. The device moves slowly at first, very slowly, a sensation that is a mix of pleasure and increasingly intense frustration, penetrating her then withdrawing, each thrust a little deeper until after some fifteen minutes her sex is slick and sensitised and, despite the dozen of so orgasms she has enjoyed already from the few hours she has spent in the machine she moans in frustration and need.

Eventually the phallus pushes in so deeply she is forced to push up onto her toes, a collar around the central shaft on which she is impaled moving with her shackled ankles. The movement triggers whips driven by springs that sting her bare bottom and her hands, shackled in the small of her back to a bronze belt locked around her waist, jerk down futily in an attempt to protect her favourite asset.

As she pants, aroused and gasping, saliva running from her gagged lips, the mechanism begins to draw the brank back, forcing her to arch her back in a way that makes her think of that moment in love-making where she thrusts her hips forward against a teasing mouth. The movement lifts the brass weights hanging from her nipples to the top of their cradles and as they make contact with the upper plates, the static built up by the machine discharging with a painful jolt that she thinks is more powerful than the first shocks of each cycle. She jerks in her bonds, crying out around her gag, the movement emphaising her helplessness and arousing her further.

She cannot see what happens next but she can feel some sort of brush teasing her stretched nipples even as the phallus inside her quickens. She wants to come now but she knows there is more to endure and, though she has tried, she cannot rush the machine.

Finally, with her back arched so that she is looking up at the rock above her, the clitoral stimulator starts. Bent back with her hips thrust forward her thighs have naturally spread a little opening her sex to what she thinks must be another brush similar to those that are now teasing her nipples so deliciously.

A moan behind her reminds her of Hazel, helpless in her own bondage, her cries also a mix of pleasure and pain and she wonders briefly if the girl knows that they are both suffering similar ordeals.

Hannah is breathing hard now, partly from the strain of the bondage and partly from the intense arousal it is causing in her captive body. She is close to orgasm, the phallus still slow but constant, driving in and out of her sex, supported by the gentle teasing of the brushes on her nipples and clitoris. Even the whip seems to encourage her to climax, though whether this is the pain itself, mingling with the pleasure immersing her body or that the blows make her jerk slightly in her bonds increasing the stimulation against her sex and nipples she cannot tell.

Behind her Hazel comes, crying out in the darkness and Hannah knows she, herself, is not far behind.

'Down !' Agnetha

Hannah is 'running the cage', a training device that is part assault course, part combat trainer. At Agnetha's warning she drops to all fours as a fur wrapped blade spins over her head.

'Up.'

Hannah pushes herself to her feet. She is physically exhausted. It is her third 'run' of the afternoon and she is the only pzorich not to complete the cage successfully within two passes.

'Jump.'

Hannah leaps over a well filled with icy water and clings desperately to blocks on a sheer wall that she must now scale. By clinging on to them she has activated a mechanism that draws the hand and footholds slowly into the wall; she has to climb or she will fall into the water anyway. Drawing on all her remaining strength she hauls herself up allowing her feet to gain purchase on the disappearing blocks then, using her legs as much as she can, scrabbles to scale the wall as quickly as possible.

At the top she pulls herself over and then drops

'I thought this wasn't allowed in pzorich.' Hannah kneels in one of the communal bathrooms having just been washed by Agnetha. Her wrists are cuffed behind her back. Agnetha is massaging her shoulders, her kneading the stiff muscles.

'I am merely applying my healing skills to your body.'

'Healing ?'

'It is a talent among us. Most northern girls are born with it. A few have great power.' Agntha's hands move down Hannah's body.

'You've never told me this before.' Hannah thinks of the stiffness in her muscles for the days of heavy training and the nights spent in the box, of the blows she has endured.

'I have not felt you were ready.'

'And you do now ?' Hannah is feeling intensely relaxed as the northerner's hands work over the muscles of her back. She has heard of the northern healers. She recalls being told of them being hunted as prized slaves because of their skills, especially by the Sylphs.

'You completed the cage, that shows determination.' Agnetha smiles as her fingers tease Hanna's one of Hannah's nipples.

It is now ten days since the storsh, twenty two since her arrival at Castle Strangeways, and over a week since her night in Madam Bondage's conditioning machine. Hannah is desperate once again for sex. For the last three nights, despite her exhaustion she has woken in her box squirming in frustration. Agnetha's touch is all her frustrated body needs to respond with an enthusiasm she can barely recall.

'I hope this isn't some sort of test and you're about to leave me hanging.'

Agnetha smiles wickedly.

'No, please.' Hannah's eyes widen. 'Not now.'

'You'd better keep quiet then.'

'You might need to use the brank.'

'That wouldn't be very exciting for me would it now ?'

Hannah tips her head to back and poke out her tongue. 'I'm ready for you, Mistress.'

'I am not your mistress.' Agnetha's fingers continue their teasing motions and Hannah can feel how erect her nipples are; her pussy is suddenly very wet.

'A close game.' Madam Bondage smiles as she takes up Hannah's crown and stands, stretching.

'Thank you, Madam.'

Madam Bondage smiles. 'No complaints ?'

'No, Madam.' Hannah wears chains, a collar and a long chain down the front linking to her cuffed wrists and cuffed ankles; her elbows are cuffed behind her back though loosely giving her some use of her hands. It is, Madam Bondage has informed her, a restraint favoured by the Angelisch. She is, of course, naked.

'Your trainers tell me your fitness and your fighting skills are improving too.'

'Yes, Madam.'

'And, if I may say, your manners have not suffered either.'

Hannah bites back a retort and Lady Bishop smiles.

'I take it you are aware that tomorrow is recknung.'

'Yes, Madam.'

'And, should you survive, I will allow you to return to Harmony.'

'Thank you, Madam.'

'Now, one more game, I think.'

Hannah reaches forward and with some difficulty begins to reset the pieces on the board.

You'd be cute if you didn't wear such a pout !

Hannah squares off to her opponent; the girl is lightly built compared to the other potential swordmaidens though not as petite at the valkree; somewhere between the two she is still half a head taller than Hannah. Her opponent is a redhead, of course, younger than Hannah, her hair gathered back into two tails like the bunches she has seen girls in Harmony wear and this seems to make her look even younger. She is, Hannah can see, quite pretty with large blue eyes and fine features more commonly seen among the riders or would be if she were not staring so murderously at the heroine.

Both girls are naked save for leather cords wrapped around their fists, facing off in the sandy arena that has just been vacated by the pzorich; two girls among some fifty fighting for their places in the ranks of Castle Strangeway's warrior elite.

The gong sounds and the Hannah's redheaded opponent leaps at her with a fury that has her hastily blocking and sidestepping until she can fully evade the onslaught. Even then the girl launches a spinning kick that nearly knocks the blonde off her feet.

Hannah knows she could go down. She does not need to win and has no desire to be an ensign, something which her opponent clearly does. However, there is something about the girl's expression, her contempt for Hannah which makes the heroine refuse to yield. After her month in pzorich she feels she has earned the right to compete with the northern girls on an equal footing, even if it is against young recruits rather than seasoned fighters. There is also her pride and, though she hates to admit it, her wish to show Madam Bondage that her training has not been wasted.

As Hannah staggers back from the kick the girl follows up with a spinning punch that, if it had landed would have been the finishing blow.

No you don't.

Hannah steps in close, where her streetfighting skills will give her the edge and rides a knee to the ribs then strikes up at the girl's chin and flips round hoisting the girl over her hip and throwing her to the sand.

The redhead springs to her feet, her face showing her rage.

'Southrich bitchen !'

No need to translate that one but let me give you lesson one: never get angry !

The girl lunges in fury and Hannah drops rolling her opponent over her knee and flicking her so the redhead lands heavily in the sand.

As they stand there is blood on the girl's lip and she is clearly favouring her right side, keeping her left arm back.

Got you now, Bitchen.

Hannah feints high and the girl raises her guard allowing Hannah to sweep her and drop to deliver an elbow to her opponent's left ribs. She hears the girl cry out in pain. Despite this her opponent starts to rise, holding her left side with her right arm, her breathing ragged.

'Yield ?'

The girl shakes her head defiantly, lifting her right arm into a guard and carefully bringing her left to join it. She watches Hannah warily, her expression strained though somehow the contemptuous pout still remains on her lips.

Some people just won't be told.

The girl moves forward to attack and Hannah drops, sweeping away her opponent's front leg though she doesn't follow up with a finishing blow.

'Yield !' Hannah raises her voice.

Again the girl shakes her head as she rises stiffly to her feet.

Please, yield.

Hannah knows she can easily finish the girl and does not wish to hurt her. The heroine begins to unwrap the leather thong from her left hand.

'Fichten mich, Southrich bitchen !'

'You got it !'

Hannah feints with her left hand and drives her right hand into the side of the girl's neck in a move that Madam van Aardt has drilled into her.

The girl crumples and Hannah springs on top of her pulling her wrists behind her back and binding them with the thong from her left hand then she unwraps her right fist and uses the thong to bind the girl's ankles.

Around her, many of the individual fights continue as the potential recruits fight each other for their place among the ensigns. Some are over, the vanquished lying bound in the sand and the victors standing over them in triumph. Hannah looks up to find Lady Bishop looking down at her; the Mistress of Strangeways nods fractionally to show her approval.

'You can join them if you wish.' Madam Bondage gestures to the line of girls, victors in the conflict; they are being collared as a mark of their acceptance into the warrior sorority.

'Do I get a chastity belt too ?'

'Of course.' Lady Bishop smiles.

'Think I'll pass. Besides, somebody in Harmony might be missing me.' She stops wondering whom.

'Master !' Hannah did not intend to say the word aloud.

Lady Bishop looks at her in surprise.

'My cat, Master. He'll... Well, at least he'll be missing me. I hope he's ok. I had a job too...and my flat...'

'Your domestic arrangements have been maintained during your pzorich.' Lady Bishop allows herself a rare, genuine smile.

'Really ? You know what I do ?'

'Of course. One of my warriors has been...' Lady Bishop frowns. '...dancing in your place.'

Hannah's jaw drops in surprise. 'She's...'

'I believe the customers at...Geri's...have been most appreciative of her talents. A northern girl in Harmony is considered quite...exotic.'

Hannah smiles, amusement at the thought of one of the sword-maidens dancing at the pole mixing with something she can't quite define, relief perhaps, but more, achievement, certainly and a sense of wellbeing; genuine pleasure enfolds her.

'If I was to hug you what would you do ?'

'Probably have your tightly restrained and thrown into prison.'

'Thank you.' Hannah is not quite sure what she is thanking Lady Bishop for but feels herself blushing and thinks she is about to cry. She turns away to hide her tears.

The feast after pzorich is as raucous as any Harmony party Hannah has ever attended and the ale the northerners brew is being drunk in large quantities. They are in the Castle's great hall, a vast chamber hewn from the rock of the cliff on one side and built of dressed stone on the other. There are about four hundred northerners assembled at long tables roughly two for the swordmiadens and two for the valkree. Though the swordmaidens are a single unit, the valkree are split into two Wings, between which, according to Agnetha, there is almost as much rivalry as between valkree and swordmaiden.

Lady Bishop sits at the top table, raised a little above those of the other warriors; to her right sits a stern looking woman who is almost a match for the mistress of Strangeways in size, she has a scar across her face that distorts what would otherwise be beautiful features, cutting her full lip; the woman's blue eyes seem to take in every detail around her and when her gaze falls on Hannah the blonde finds herself forced to look away.

Being dressed again has left her feeling slightly awkward. She wears her Boot Girl costume; Agnetha offered furs but Hannah felt rather ridiculous in them. She sits with Agnetha and Agnafred and some of the girls who have shared her pzorcih; none of whom show any apparent hostility to the women who have imprisoned them and punished them. All the warriors, including the recently released pzorich, the victors at least, are all dressed again in their fur bikinis. Though she has spent the last month with them Hannah realises she does not know them at all though from the lewd looks, flicking tongues and giggles it is clear they know exactly who she is. Normally she would be flattered by the attention and looking for the prettiest of the girls to take to her bed; normally she would be as drunk as those around her. She takes another sip of her ale which is barely half gone.

Many of the pzorich have their conquests kneeling behind them, wrists bound behind their backs, leather thongs tied as leashes around their necks. The vanquished are not, however, excluded from the feast; the conquerors feed them and force drinks down their throats so that most are as drunk as their temporary mistresses. Some of the victors, however, have released their vanquished and allowed them to join the feast though most have been kept naked.

The new ensigns now sit among the warriors drinking heavily and most now look rather unsteady, their eyelids drooping and heads nodding. They are naked save for their collars and Hannah assumes their chastity belts will be fitted in the morning.

Those who have lost their fights serve at the feast.

Hannah is watching two valkree who she thinks are Brie and Aleksi with their hands inside each others furs and their mouths pressed together when she feels a presence behind her. The girl she has fought stands behind her naked and, Hannah notes, uncollared. She still pouts though a large bruise on her left cheek distorts the expression and stirs a sense of guilt in the heroine. The girl watches her silently with a reproachful expression.

Hannah turns away. One of the two valkree sitting next to Brie and Aleksi is licking ale off the other's nipples and Hannah begins to feel her own needs. She looks back at the girl standing behind her. The redhead's skin shines in the flickering light, glistening as though oiled with a mix of kitchen grease and sweat.

No, Hannah ! She's way to young.

The girl presses herself against the heroine.

'Do you not desire me ?' The girl speaks in Nordish.

'You're cute but...'

Agnetha nudges Hannah in the ribs.

'She wants you.'

'She's a child.' Hannah is surprised to find her conscience pricking her at this moment.

'She is eighteen. By us she is grown woman, at least eighteen winters. She would not be allowed to fight otherwise. If you do not take her she will feel doubly shamed.' Agnetha presses a leather thong into Boot Girl's hand. 'The bunk below mine will be empty. You can take her there.'

'Well, if I must.' Hannah's mood lifts a little as she takes the thong and turns to the girl who gives a rare smile as she turns and presents her wrists behind her back to be tied. Hannah binds them and the girl turns back, pressing her belly against the heroine's shoulder. Hannah slips a hand around the girl's waist and pulls her into her lap.

'What's your name ?'

'Ingrid.'

'I'm Hannah.'

'Yes, I know.'

She moves to kiss the girl but she turns her head away.

Hannah grabs a fistful of hair but the girl struggles.

'Stop you barbarian !' Ingrid struggles and her pout returns. 'I am your vanquished not your lover.'

A gong sounds and the party stills. Hannah looks up. Lady Bishop is standing holding up a large leather bag. Silently she passes it to her left to the valkree sitting there who reaches inside and pulls out a white disc. The woman smiles and holds it up before passing the bag to the girl on her left, another valkree. The second woman takes a disc, also white.

'What's going on ?' Hannah whispers to Agnetha.

'It is the draw for pzorich.'

There is a loud cheer. A swordmaiden on the top table holds up a black disc. The woman smiles and bows gently towards Lady Bishop who acknowledges the gesture.

Hannah, like all the others, watches the bag passed along the line of warriors, down one table and up the next. Most discs are white but a few are black and each of these in being drawn raises a cheer accompanied by a smile from the drawer, though a number of these are clearly forced and sometimes nearer a grimace or a frown.

Those who have just completed pzorich pass the bag on without drawing and Hannah does the same. She sees Agnetha beside her draw a white disc and then Agnafred a black one. Agnetha leans in towards her lover and Hannah overhears her comment. 'Better get used to it Agna ! You're mine tonight.'

Finally the bag returns to the top table passing to the hand of the Shieldmaiden, who draws white and then to Lady Bishop.

The room falls silent as the Mistress of Strangeways reaches into the bag and draws.


Part 9: Crated for Shipment (added: 2017/11/11)

Lady Bishop smiles and holds up a black disc.

The room erupts with wild cheers and the din of hands hammering on the table with a force that spills many of the remaining drinks.

Lady Bishop lifts her hands and gestures for silence.

'It seems the Ice Maiden has smiled upon her servant.' Lady Bishop turns to the Shieldmaiden and then back to the assembled company. 'I am sure the Shieldmaiden will keep order in my absence.'

The woman with the scar nods politely and turns to cast her frightening gaze over the assembled throng. A few, her favourite's perhaps, raise their drinking cups to her and then turn back to their colleagues. Slowly the noise rises and the party resumes but Hannah notices that, slowly, the warriors are leaving their tables, mostly in pairs though sometimes a victor leads her vanquished on a leather leash.

'Do you wish me to serve you now, Barbarian ?' Ingrid still sits in Hannah's lap.

'My name is Hannah.'

'I do not think it is a good name.'

'It's fine but you're entitled to your opinion.'

'A valkree would have punished me for making such a comment. Do you have the resolve to punish me ?'

'I'm not a valkree.'

'You have been in pzorich. Why do you not take me now ?'

Hannah turns to look at Agnetha for support but she and Agnafred are disappearing through a doorway with their arms around each other.

'Oh come on then.' Hannah stands tipping the redhead off her lap.

As long as I can remember where Agnetha's bed is we'll be fine.

Ingrid is still glaring at her, a sour expression on her face.

'Turn around.'

The redhead shrugs and turns and Hannah unties her wrists.

'What are you doing ?'

'Shut up !'

When she has freed Ingrid's wrists she ties the thong round her neck as a leash.

'On your knees.'

The girl obeys, though slowly.

'Do you know how to walk to heel ?' Hannah pulls on the leash and the girl follows her crawling on all fours.

To Hannah's surprise there is a full bottle of ale on one of the tables by the door and Hannah grabs it as she leads the girl from the great hall.

I think I may need this.

Ingrid kneels before Hannah with her wrists bound once again behind her back. Hannah has left the other end of the thong tied around the girl's neck so the redehad is forced to keep her wrists up in the small of her back and kneel upright with her shoulders back.

Around her in the dim light she can see and hear couples pleasuring each other. On the bunk above her head Agnafred, tied spreadeagle, is moaning loudly as Agnetha crouches above her raking her tongue over her helpless lover's sex.

Hannah sees the girl glance up as Agnafred cries out, arching up, her movement shaking the bunk on which the heroine sits. For a moment Hannah sees the girl's pout fall away.

'Ingrid.'

The girl still looks young to Hannah and, in her bondage, vulnerable. There is no doubt she is pretty, the mask of her pout dropping away when she forgets to apply it. There is no doubt her body is mature, gently curved, a slim waist and firm breasts.

The girl looks at her, pout returning.

'Why did you chose to fight me ?'

'You are a barbarian. Defeating you would have gained me much approval.'

'Not necessarily a smart tactic if you wanted to be selected.'

'You do not fight that well.'

'I beat you !'

Ingrid looks down quickly, the expression on her face changing from arrogance to contrition but when she looks back up the pout has returned.

'I will fight again next year.'

'You could have beaten many of the girls fighting today.'

Ingrid shrugs though her expression suggests she is not as certain now.

'Go on. Why me ?'

'I told you, I wanted to be the warrior who defeated the barbarian, tell others how I made you pleasure me with her jeweled tongue.'

'It always comes down to sex.'

'That is what you would think. You are little more than an animal.'

'I'm not the one on the leash.'

Ingrid scowls. 'Our culture is far more ancient than yours. We are a wiser and more civilised people.'

'Do you know anything about my culture.'

'Only that Harmony is a city of immoral filth and corruption. Our Mistress has been there much to clear away this depravity.'

'Really ? My flat has electricity and working drains that are more than a hole in the floor. Even your beloved mistress uses a flyer.'

'And yet she has brought you here to be civilised.'

'I need a drink.' Hannah reaches for the bottle of ale and take a swig then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and belches loudly. 'You want some ?' She holds out the bottle.

Ingrid shakes her head. 'Is it true that in Harmony they all drink before choosing a mate and making sex ?'

Hannah pauses. 'It sometimes makes it easier.'

Agnafred comes again, rocking the bed and Ingrid looks up.

'Come on.' Hannah holds out the bottle again.

After a moment Ingrid nods and Hannah holds the bottle to the girl's lips. Ingrid swallows, pulling a face at the strong taste, some of the dark liquid dribbles down her chin.

'Come here.'

Ingrid shuffles closer and Hannah takes her by the hair, pulling her head back and licking the ale from the girl's neck. To Hannah's surprise Ingrid does not struggle or pull away.

'Are all women as you in Harmony ?'

'No, most are...I don't know...well most are brunettes for a start...and most have...' Hannah's voice trails off. 'Well, most have a lot more here...' She gestures to her chest.

'I wish to be like you.'

'Like me ?' Hannah is genuinely shocked.

'I wish to be Valkree, not Swordmaiden. I wishes to fly.'

So that's why you've got such a chip on your shoulder !

'I am born into Valkree family...I am...disappointment.'

Hannah takes a swig and pours some more ale into Ingrid's mouth, licking the spillage off the girl's neck, her tongue creeping a little lower than before.

'I'm sorry....' Shit, was I really going to say 'kid' ? She takes another swig and gives more to Ingrid.

'I guess we're all striving for things we can't have. You want to be Valkree, I want...actually ...' Hannah's voice trails off.

Shit ! What do I want ?

Hannah takes another swallow and ensures more of the ale spills so she can lick it off Ingrid's chest raking her tongue stud over the northerner's right nipple in the process making the girl gasp

There is another cry from above, Agnetha this time.

'Actually, what I want right now is...' Hannah grins. '...a little attention.'

Ingrid looks slightly confused but Hannah takes the last of the ale and pours it over her own chest and the northerner realises her intention leaning forward and running her tongue over Hannah's chest.

'Oh, good girl.' Hannah slides the front of her costume away from her nipple and guides Ingrid's mouth towards it trembling slightly as the girl runs her tongue gently over it. Ingrid licks the nipple and Hannah feels it harden but before she can fully enjoy the sensation Ingrid is sliding her mouth down Hannah's body.

'Whoa ! Slow down, girl.' Hannah takes a firm hold on Ingrid's thick red hair and pulls the girl's head up guiding the northerner's mouth back to her sensitised nipple.

Ingrid suckles for several minutes and then, cautiously moves her mouth to the other side using her teeth to pull Hannah's costume away from her other nipple.

When Hannah finally pulls the girl's head away from her chest both girls are panting and she can see Ingrid's cheeks are flushed and her pout has gone. Hannah pulls Ingrid's head back and takes a mouthful of the northerner's pale freckled breast using her tongue stud on the nipple.

'Usker mich.' Ingrid's voice is little more than a whisper.

'Did you just say...?' Hannah pauses for a moment.

'Use me !' Ingrid pushes forward.

Madam Bondage is ready to depart just as the sun is beginning to bring colour to the predawn greyness of the tundra. Although it is summer the air is cold and the breath of her bitches steams in the air as they stir restlessly in their harnesses eager to be off and drive the chill from their near naked bodies. With a crack of her long whip she goads them into motion, the runners of her sled gliding over the soft surface layer of the ice. Her team, including the lead bitch, consists of seven; all highly bred sled-bitches, with glossy black hair, high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes; they are short with strong legs and hips, small breasts and narrow waists; and all trained to the peak of fitness. She runs them naked but for their fur thigh boots and arm-binder harnesses, three pairs harnessed in a line behind the lead bitch Son-ja. Near the end of summer the risks of hidden crevasses on this route, albeit one that was rarely used, are small.

Son-ja is an experienced lead and Madam Bondage allows her free rein to get the bitches running until steam rises from their shoulders into the chill air, then with gentle traction on the reins she draws them down to a steady trot.

Muzzling bitches goes against convention but Madam Bondage knows it helps to protect their lungs a little from the harsh cold air of the tundra. Aside from this she uses traditional harnesses with leather pads, to protect the bitches' skin from the cold steel buckles, and nipple leashes, steering the lead with the reins passing through the outside nipple ring of each pair, the inner one being used to keep them in close as they run in this formation.

Standing on the sled's runners, her cloak flapping behind her, gliding across the beauty of the tundra, the wind chill against her face brings a calmness to Madam Bondage, a feeling she can now see has been missing for some time. She thinks briefly of Hazel no doubt naked and probably bound and helpless at the feet of the Shield Maiden or enduring some lonely torment which is no worse than those which she inflicts upon herself; she thinks too of Hannah who will today return to Harmony and of the small but significant change she has seen in the would-be heroine; and she thinks of the ordeal ahead of her when she reaches the lonely tower of the Ice Maiden. Involuntarily she gives a slight shiver and moves to pull her cloak in around her but then, in a whim, throws off the cloak, drops from the runners and begins to jog behind the sled.

'Who's turn is it ?' Ingrid giggles and squirms closer to Hannah nibbling at the heroine's shoulder. The northerner's wrists are still bound behind her back but are no longer tied to her neck.

'Mine, I think.' Hannah grins and pulls Ingrid's head down towards her pussy.

I'm sure it's mine.' Ingrid resists but not forcefully.

Agnetha rolls over on the bunk above them. It is probably an hour since the two swordmaidens finally stopped pleasuring each other and drifted off to sleep with, as far as Hannah can tell, Agnefred still bound tightly to her subordinate's bed. Most of the room is now quiet other than the occasional creak of a bunk and some heavy breathing interspersed with snoring.

Hannah thinks it is probably around dawn. The two girls have enjoyed each other's bodies multiple times but when Ingrid flicks her tongue across Hannah's sex the blonde feels herself respond immediately and strokes her vanquished's hair. Hannah knows her body's response may be due to the long abstinence of her pzorich but there is also something completely honest about Ingrid's approach to sex, a selflessness and willingness that more than makes up for her lack of experience. Each time the girl has come she has done so with complete abandon, gasping and crying and, on occasions, biting and kicking Hannah quite violently. When she has applied her tongue and lips to her conquerer's sex she has done so with an enthusiasm and absolute desire to please.

Hannah feels Ingrid's tongue pressing against her clitoris and pulls the girl's head away. Ingrid moans.

'Just let me get comfortable.' Hannah sits up and swings round in the small bunk then lies down so she can pleasure the northerner at the same time. She can sense Ingrid smile. 'Just don't bite me this time.' Hannah slides her tongue into Ingrid's sex and feels the girl squirm with pleasure.

The alarm wakes them. Hannah thinks they cannot have been sleeping more than a few minutes. She looks around to see that a few of the northerners are already up but most struggle from their bunks groaning. Agnafred is already leashed, naked, her wrists bound behind her back. She looks to Hannah gloriously barbaric like some legendary captured princess, her red hair loose hanging around the pale flesh of her face and shoulders; her body is magnificent like sculpted marble, pale freckled skin, muscles lean, breasts full, nipples erect; though her face looks tired her eyes shine despite the excesses of ths night. Agnetha, dressed in her furs, holds her lover's leash. Hannah watches as the two lovers once again say their goodbyes, Agnafred pressing herself against Agnetha lifting her bare leg so that their thighs rub together.

Beside Hannah, Ingrid struggles to her feet, her wrists still bound behind her. The girl's red hair is a tousled mess and her face is still plastered in Hannah's secretions but her eyes shine and Hannah has an urge to hug her.

'Do you want me to untie you ?' Hannah steps towards her.

Ingrid grins. 'Stay away from me, barbarian.'

Hannah stops feeling suddenly awkward but Ingrid leans forward and plants a firm kiss on the blonde's lips then she turns and runs off, still naked and bound.

'Well, that is a most surprising turn of events.' Agnetha smiles, still holding Agnafred close to her enjoying the proximity of her body and absently playing with one of her nipples.

'Can you do anything for her ?' Hannah feels sad to see the girl go, the loss of something, the feeling of belonging, of being part of a group, reminding her of the fellowship of the pony troop and the loneliness of her life in Harmony.

'Do anything ?' Agnetha appears genuinely not understand the question.

'Never mind.' Hannah shudders, shaking off the unfamiliar emotions. She grins at Agnetha. 'How do you want me.'

'Clean would be appropriate.' Agnetha wrinkles her nose and looks somewhat disparagingly at the pert blonde; her tone is somewhat matter of fact. 'I need to take Agnafred to the muster. When I return I will bind you and present you to the Shield Maiden.'

'She's really gone then ? Madam B is in pzorich ?'

Gaia I'd like to be her instructor for a day.

The Shieldmaiden smiles as Agnetha leads Hannah in to Lady Bishop's chambers. The heroine is once again naked, her arms restrained behind her back in a tight leather slave sheath and her ankles cuffed and hobbled.

'I'm sure Lady Bishop would have preferred to see you off herself.' The Shieldmaiden's accent is strong but her Belladonian is fluent. 'However, as you are aware, matters have overtaken us.'

There is a slave crate in the corner of the room and Hannah grins.

'So is Madam B in there naked and waiting to be lead through the snow by her nips ?'

'Lady Bishop warned me of your arrogance.' The Shieldmaiden forces a smile. 'There are...other places...other ways...some of those among us serve their pzorich.'

'Pity. I'd like to see her sweat.' Hannah looks at the crate again, imagining the statuesque northerner helpless and hooded inside.

'Oh, I can assure you Lady Bishop will be tested to her limits.'

'Now, that's something I'd like to see.'

A flicker of something crosses the Shieldmaiden's face.

Anger ? Fear ?

'Pzorich is not a trivial matter.'

You've been there haven't you ? Hannah studies the powerful northerner in front of her, the well honed muscles, the taut belly. Gaia, it must be tough.

' Ja regtic siorch.' Hananh bows her head.

'Apology accepted.' The Shieldmaiden's manner has become more distant. 'You will be called again when your time comes.'

'My time ?'

'Your pzorich. You will be summoned again.'

'Just a minute. I'm not...' Hannah begins to struggle against the single sleeve, her chain leash swinging. She takes a step forward towards the huge northerner.

'Peace, Hannah Pink.' The Shieldmaiden does not move or raise her hand but Agnetha takes a step forward reaching to draw her sword and Hannah stops.

'Lady Bishop does you great honour.'

'It's not an honour I want.'

'It is not an honour you can refuse.'

Hannah sighs.

'Do you wish to say anything before you are dispatched ?'

'Dispatched ?'

The Shieldmaiden glances at the crate.

'Ow, come on...'

The Shieldmaiden turns and gestures to Agnetha.

'Just one thing...'

Agnetha pauses and the Shieldmaiden turns back raising an eyebrow.

'Madam.' Hannah bows. 'I would be grateful if you would thank Lady Bishop for taking the time to...to... For taking an interest in me.'

'I will convey the massage.'

'And...'

'Yes ?' The Shieldmaiden sounds slightly irritated.

'Ingrid...the girl...'

'I am aware of whom you speak.'

'She wants to be a Valkree.'

'She is too heavy to be Valkree. She would slow a wing in fast flight.'

'Yes, but...I know what it's like to fly free. Can't she... I mean even Lady Bishop has a flyer. Couldn't you train Ingrid as a pilot.'

'That is a matter for Lady Bishop. However, I will inform her of your request.'

'Thank you.' Hannah bows again but the Shieldmaiden is already walking towards the door.

'Ready ?' Agnetha is standing beside Hannah.

'Oh, get it over with.'

Agnetha takes up Hannah's chain leash and leads her towards the slave crate.

The crate jolts and Hannah jerks awake in her bonds. She is hooded and restrained inside, her arms behind her back pinned together in the slave sheath, her ankles cuffed, she is collared and locked inside a chastity belt. The journey has been a blur of intense sexual arousal and repeated orgasm that has more than made up for the long denial of her pzorich.

Inside the crate she kneels, her ankle cuffs chained to the base, chains from the waistband of her steel chastity belt are locked to the front and side walls of the crate, the tip of her slave sheath is fastened to the back and the top of her hood to the roof. Her gag is fitted with a hose that allows her to suck water into her mouth and, if she chooses, porridge, something she feels is a cruel trick on the part of Agnetha. Weighted stimulators are clipped to her nipples, buzzing with a low intensity almost constantly, their teasing augmented by jerks from the weights when the crate is moved. There is a large dildo inside her and vibrators on the crotch plate of the chastity belt that seem to have worked almost constantly to keep her aroused bringing her captive body to one orgasm after another. A catheter drains her bladder and an enema tube plugs her bottom.

Hannah has no idea how long she has been in the crate. The journey to Castle Strangeways only took a couple of hours in Lady Bishop's flyer but she feels she has been in the crate for days leaving her sleep deprived, exhausted and intensely satisfied.

Cool air brushes across her bare sweat coated skin and she knows the crate has been opened.

Wonder if they'll let me keep it.

She kneels patiently as the chains holding her in place are unclipped one by one and then howls through her gag as the clamps on her nipples are removed.

Bitch !

The chastity belt is next, with its plugs and tubes and then her feeding gag.

Finally she is lifted off the floor of the crate and deposited, again on her knees, her arms still tightly sheathed behind her, ankles cuffed and still hooded. She is left for several minutes during which she assumes her liberator is putting the crate away.

Take your time, I'm in not going anywhere.

She jerks awake again when she feels hands on the shoulder straps of her slave sheath. As these are released her shoulders relax slightly and she realises how stiff they are. Then the top portion of the sheath is loosened and then...nothing.

She waits but when nothing happens for some time begins to struggle to free herself.

It takes her nearly an hour to wriggle out if the sheath. During this time she feels something soft brush against her thigh and freezes for a moment before she hears a familiar sound.

Master !

With her hands free of the sheath she reaches to unbuckle the hood, her stiff shoulders making the movement painful. As she does so, Master rubs himself against her legs again and nuzzles her in search of food. She pauses to stroke him, still blind inside the hood and kneeling, she picks him up and strokes him then resumes her fumbling with the buckles of the hood.

Blinking in the light she can see she is kneeling in her kitchen or, at least what was her kitchen, though it is now tidy, its chrome gleaming and its floor clean.

That wasn't necessary !

She frees her ankles and stands, naked, stretching her cramped body and then, much to Master's displeasure walks into the other room of the flat. This has been tidied too but there is no sign of the crate or her liberator.

Master is rubbing himself around her ankles and mewling loudly and she walks back into the kitchen to find him some food. She empties a sachet into a bowl in the corner and then hunts in the cupboards for a mug. It takes her three tries during which she finds her kitchen well stocked, particularly with oatmeal, pickled fish and other Nordish food.

When she finds a mug she fills it and gulps the water before filling it again. Her thirst partly slaked, she sips frequently as she looks round her flat.

There is a calendar on the wall on which is written 'Hannah' in large black letters over Thorsday 23rd Septimus. The day is ringed and she guesses that this must be today. There are entries on the calendar that say 'Geri' and a time and she assumes these must be her shifts at the club. Whoever has been working in her place appears to have worked every day of the month so far. There is a further entry in two days' time.

Walking into the bed-sitting room sipping her water she opens the closet to find her clothes hanging neatly, her Boot Girl costume among them and her boots tucked in the corner. There are a couple of new dresses, one in electric blue PVC that is clearly very body-hugging and cutaway, the skirt scandalously short even by the standards of Harmony fashion.

So you were a slut, too.

She lifts the dress up by the hanger and spots a pair of matching sandals with heels so high they are almost slave boots. She holds the dress up to her body.

Might just have to give this a try.

The other is a semi-transparent rubber minidress with black rubber peephole bra and knickers hooked round the hanger. There are matching rubber stockings and a pair of ankle high slave boots.

I really want to meet this woman !

Hannah hangs the dresses on the handle of the closet and puts down her mug on a copy of Houris, a fashion magazine she has seen on the shelves but never looked at. The brunette on the front wears a filmy lace dress that reveals her black lacy underwear.

The rubber one tonight I think.

She stretches again and then realises how much she needs a shower.

Madam Bondage runs her sled bitches hard through the first day and on into the dusk as the world around her cools. When she finally stops the bitches are exhausted, curling together on their rugs after eating from their bowls and drinking from the water trough. They initially seem almost too tired for the usual evening pleasure of the sled bitch though as she had covers them with furs she hears deep breathing and quiet moans of pleasure followed by the odd cry of ecstasy as, one after another, they were bring each other to orgasm with skilled tongues.

As she lies in her furs on the sled, Madam Bondage considers pulling out one of the bitches, perhaps Son-ja, who has pleasured her many times on journeys across the frozen wastes, but then thinks of the pleasure (and pain) that lies ahead; the need to conserve her strength and stamina stays her hand; she thus lies back looking up at the endless glittering stars recalling the pleasure of her last night for some time with Hazel.

The tower of the Ice Maiden has been visible on the horizon since the sunrise and is now only a few minutes ahead. Madam Bondage has driven her team hard since dawn and, tired though they were the bitches have run well sensing the urgency in their Mistress, her need to reach the Ice Maiden's lair. Unbidden Son-ja quickens the pace and the others follow, tired muscles lifting booted feet kicking up sprays of the light dusting of powder snow that has fallen this morning. As they approach, the gate of the keep swings open and Madam Bondage drives her team into the tower's stone courtyard keeping her sled to the ice around its edge.

A huge iron studded door at the top of a dozen steps opens and a woman emerges, it is Tar-ja the Ice Maiden's, chief slave. The woman wears furs across her breasts and hips and knee high leather boots trimmed with fur. The furs are from the great white ice bear that inhabits the tundra. Tar-ja is a tundra-dweller, of the same ancestry as the bitches: pale skin, glossy black hair, but with larger breasts and more rounded hips. Around her throat is a steel collar. She carries in her hand a long flexible cane coated in leather, a scourge that is feared by all of the Ice Maiden's slaves. Behind her come four more slaves, red-headed northerners, all naked, they struggle with what appears to be a very heavy metal frame and Madam Bondage knows her time has come.

Madam Bondage throws off her cloak. She is naked beneath and has been since morning. She knows what is to come and does not wish to show any signs of prevarication. Silently she drops to her knees in the snow and raises her hands. Her body is magnificent; pale, beautiful, a marble sculpted goddess. The slaves approach the kneeling heroine with the frame and now its purpose becomes clear: it is a steel pillory, phenomenally heavy and easily capable of thwarting Madam Bondage's huge strength.

With difficulty the slaves position the device around the kneeling woman and close the two parts enclosing her neck and raised wrists. As they let go the strain in the kneeling woman's body is clearly apparent.

'Stand.' Tar-ja's voice leaves no doubt to her authority.

Madam Bondage is now a slave, like the other women are slaves, she is subordinate to the chief slave and, being newly arrived, by convention below all the Ice Maiden's slaves. It is the Chief Slave, Tar-ja, who commands here.

Struggling to maintain her balance and her posture Madam Bondage lifts one knee and places the ball of her bare foot on the ice then, with immense effort, every muscle straining, she pushes herself to stand up. Sweat springs to her skin despite the chill.

Another slave steps forward and cuffs the helpless woman's ankles, a short heavy chain linking the steel restraints.

'Follow me.' Tar-ja turns and climbs the stairs easily. Madam Bondage is left to follow.

Despite her great strength the helpless heroine takes several minutes to reach the top of the steps and, when she does so her body is dripping with sweat and her breath ragged.

'Slow girl !' Tar-ja strikes her across the buttocks with her cane. 'Kneel.'

Almost exhausted by the short exertion Madam Bondage collapses to her knees.

'Crawl to the presence of our Goddess.'

Madam Bondage obeys, though with great difficulty. The pillory saps all her strength but kneeling and chained she crawls forward through the great steel doors into the Ice Maiden's hall. The inside of the chamber is bare stone, lit by flaming torches that leave a pall of bitter smoke hanging in the air; there is a brazier burning in one corner. This Ice Maiden sits on a throne at the far end of the hall; a beautiful, pale goddess, wrapped in furs. Determinedly, Madam Bondage crawls towards her while the Ice maiden waits, watching her with glacial blue eyes.

As Madame Bondage nears the dais on which the throne is mounted, the Ice Maiden throws off the furs and rises; she is tall and graceful, slim with platinum blonde hair that falls to her waist and skin so pale it is almost white; she is almost naked; an intricate arrangement of steel coils around her body cupping her delicate breasts, silk hangs from a belt at her waist concealing her loins; there are sandals on her feet.

Slowly, gracefully, the Ice Maiden descends the steps of her dais to the floor of her chamber. Madam Bondage kneels before her, her body shaking from the exertion of crawling with the heavy pillory. Despite her exhaustion there is one more act of obeisance that she must perform and as the Ice Maiden extends a sandaled foot Madam Bondage bends forwards; even her mighty strength cannot support the heavy pillory and it crashes to the stone floor, the sound echoing from the high walls. Straining against the heavy restraint Madam Bondage presses her lips to the delicate foot before her.

The Ice Maiden stands patiently as Madam Bondage gently kisses her sandaled foot.

'It pleases me to see you again Little One.' A smile curls the divine lips. 'It has been a long time.'

'Too long, Mistress.' Madam Bondage is aroused by the simple touch of her flash to that of the blonde goddess standing before her, the familiar thrill of sexual excitement coursing through her body.

There is a hiss and sharp crack and Tar-ja strikes the kneeling woman on the buttocks. 'Silence, Slave !'.

'Prepare her.' The Ice Maiden climbs back onto her dais and ascends to her throne as her red haired slaves lower four chains from the ceiling which they attach to the corners of the pillory confining Madam Bondage. At Tar-ja's command one activates the hoist and the pillory together with its helpless occupant is lifted from the stone floor. Slowly, Madam Bondage is pulled to kneel, then forced to stand and, finally her toes are lifted from the floor so she hangs by her neck and wrists.

Tar-ja circles the helpless woman striking her once on the breasts and again on the back. The strain on the helpless heroine's face is evident but she stays silent. The head slave snaps her fingers and two slaves scurry forward carrying steel toe boots which they lock on Madam Bondage's feet, fastening them to the steel ankle cuffs. The toes of the boots end in tiny spiked points that are no larger than the tips of the slender, curved eight inch steel stilettos. At least with this extra height Madam Bondage can now take the weight of her body on her legs. Two slaves then bring forward steel stocks which they proceed to lock around the ankle cuffs fixing them some eighteen inches apart; the ankle chain is then secured to the floor. Steel mitts follow, locking around Madam Bondage's hands, sealing in her fists and fastening into the cuffs embedded in the steel pillory. Madam Bondage is now completely helpless but knows that this is only the start of her ordeal. As her bondage has been applied she has remained obeisant with her eyes downcast. As the second steel mitt is locked in place she looks up briefly at the blonde goddess reclined before her. Tar-ja notices the lapse and strikes her hard on the breasts.

'Eyes down, Slave. How dare you look upon the Goddess without permission.'

Next a slave comes forward carrying a velvet covered tray containing a number of steel devices; Tar-ja picks up a star shaped object and holds it up; it is a nipple star, a punishment device that she places on Madam Bondage's breast, pulling the nipple through a hole in the centre of the star; once it is in place Tar-ja closes the mechanism and the device locks, tiny blades shooting into Madam Bondage's nipple and barbs on the stars' points hooking into her areola; the pain it inflicts is sharp and intense but Madam Bondage's face remains stoical. Tar-ja applies the second star and her victim knows that she will wear them for the duration of her pzorich. With the stars locked in place Tar-ja closes the restraint's caps over Madame Bondage's big nipples; the stars now act as a chastity device preventing any sort of nipple stimulation. Next Tarja picks up a V-shaped object and, crouching down, applies it to Madam Bondage's unprotected sex pulling the helpless woman's labia between the clamps; as she closes the mechanism steel pins pierce Madame Bondage's labia and a clamp locks around her clitoris; Tarja closes the arms of the V and locks the device preventing any access to the captive's sex. Again Madam Bondage remains stoical though as her labia are each pierced simultaneously in three places her pupils dilate and her eyes flick momentarily upward. The final device on the tray is butt plug, a short tapered cylinder, like all the other restraints in shiny steel; Tar-ja pushes this in with the same taciturn approach she has used for the other devices; again she twists the tip locking it in place.

Slaves of the Ice Maiden are completely controlled.

Another tray is brought, this one containing a steel gag and blindfold. Madam Bondage opens her mouth to accept the gag, a steel ring that locks behind her teeth and is held in place by a flexible steel roll that Tar-ja tightens and locks behind the heroine's head. The blindfold is a similar construction and designed to shut out all light.

Madam Bondage is now utterly helpless, blind and muzzled.

The Ice Maiden rises sinuously from her throne and descends the steps towards her helpless slave. She is dwarfed by the mighty captive but her power is made all the clearer. Tar-ja and her fellow slaves fall to their knees. The Ice Maiden extends a finger and touches the Madam Bondage's belly, stroking slowly down to the captive's red pubic bush. She watches as a blush comes to the slave's chest, spreading over her breasts, she knows that under the stars the woman's nipples are hardening and pain that causes, she can smell the strong scent of her captive's aroused sex.

The Ice Maiden drops her hand and smiles.

'A night of meditation Little One before you begin your training tomorrow.'

The Ice Maiden turns on her heel and leaves; she is followed by her slaves leaving Madam Bondage alone and helpless in frustrated torment.

The night of the northern wastes is not dark in summer, instead a pale, erie light persists while the sun hovers above the horizon. Even were she not blindfolded and helpless Madam Bondage would have nothing to measure the passage of the night except the progressive chill which gradually pervades her captive body. As Tar-ja enters the great chamber where the heroine is confined the morning after her arrival Madam Bondage is shivering uncontrollably in her bonds.

The first the helpless redhead knows of Tar-ja's presence is a stinging blow of the head slave's cane to her naked buttocks.

'You have grown soft. You spend too much time with that big breasted whore warming your bed.'

Two of the Ice Maiden's redheaded slaves enter. They are naked except for fur boots. They both carry multi-tailed whips, one carries a chain nipple leash. They unlock and remove part of the heavy pillory and stocks from Madam Bondage's limbs leaving her wrists fixed to her collar by steel rods and her ankles confined by the chain. The steel pillory is remains hanging ready to be reused and the stocks are left where they lie on the floor. The steel slave boots are left locked onto Madam Bondage's feet and her hands are remain confined in the steel mitts; she is still blindfolded and gagged and still tortured by the nipple and genital clamps as well as the butt plug.

'Time for you to earn your breakfast you worthless slut.' Tar-ja strikes the heroine on the buttocks then takes the leash from one of the redheaded slaves and clips it to Madam Bondage's nipple clamps.

With a sharp jerk Madam Bondage is lead from the Ice Maiden's chamber. She totters awkwardly on the extreme slave heels, her muscles stiff from the night in confinement, following Tar-ja with blind obedience. Tar-ja leads her down the steps into the chill morning and, as the wind catches her bare skin Madam Bondage shivers again and stumbles; immediately one of the redheaded slaves strikes her with her whip. Tar-ja leads her across the courtyard and out into the thick snow.

Now, Madam Bondage's ordeal begins in earnest as, lead by Tar-ja and driven by the whips of the two other slaves she is forced the run across the ice; the slave boots drive deeply into the packed snow meaning every step is an effort as she drags her foot up to make the next step; the chain between her ankles further hampers her progress. In minutes she is breathless, gasping around her gag, the chill in her body driven away by the exertion of her training. She falls frequently, struggling to her feet as the whips of her tormenters lash her bare skin. After some time she senses the ground begin to rise and the snow deepen so that she sinks to her crotch with each step. Her trainers, however, give no quarter for this and continue to force her on. Eventually, as the slope becomes steeper she is almost crawling through the snow using her arms, still held by the side of her head, her shoulders and even her breasts to propel herself upwards.

At the top of the rise, or, at least, that is what she assumes, the stopper of her gag is removed and she is given a mouthful of icy water which she swallows thirstily before being lead back down the icy slope for her return to the Ice Maiden's tower.

Finally, she is pushed to her knees in what she can only assume is the courtyard in front of the tower. Her chest heaves with the exertion and she is bathed in sweat.

'You lumber like a walrus you fat whore ! Give her half rations.'

The stopper of Madam Bondage's gag is removed and she is given another mouthful of icy water followed by a foul tasting paste that she knows is the only food she is likely to receive for some time.

After a few minutes' rest Madam Bondage is commanded to her feet, a sharp jerk on her nipple leash ensuring her immediate obedience. She is given permission to squat and empty her bladder and then lead up the steps into the tower's great hall where the steel rods holding her arms up beside her head are removed and she is permitted at least to lower her arms. She is still blind and helpless, still gagged and intimately clamped, but at now has some slight degree of freedom.

For the next two hours she undergoes form training, Tar-ja commanding her and punishing any slight inadequacy with a lash of the cane. As she works the steel collar and mitts seem to become heavier and the steel slave boots betray any tiny error of form and balance though she falls only once. Tar-ja runs her through the fighting forms of nearly a dozen styles, at one stage removing her ankle chain to allow her to work in deeper stances and to kick. When she has finished she is again watered, fed and left on her knees to rest, albeit briefly, before her next ordeal.

Stiletto examines the small statuette, the torment of Gaia, one of pair depicting the Bellanian goddess' imprisonment and torture at the hands of the succubi, a period that is said to have resulted in great scars on the world, deserts, rivers and seas. Gaia is depicted naked, kneeling, her wrists chained behind her, a collar around her throat, writhing under the lash of her tormentors.

The villainess sits in a heavily upholstered armchair with a high back, her booted feet resting the bare back of a kneeling Sylph. Another Sylph, almost identical, kneels beside the villainess. On her back is a glass table-top and on the table stands a china tea cup, it's contents steaming, a teapot and a milk jug. Stiletto, in the Angelisch style, takes her tea with milk.

Beside Stiletto stands another Angel dressed in a maid's outfit, a short black dress with a white apron, the skirt short enough to show her stocking-tops. As is typical of the servant class, the maid's hair is less blonde than her mistress', honey coloured rather than platinum. She stands ready to serve her mistress should the need arise. To Stiletto's other side is a second maid though this one is being punished for some earlier indiscretion and is restrained, a chain running from the steel collar around her neck to her wrists which are cuffed before her and then to her cuffed ankles which are tightly hobbled; the girl is also gagged with a locking steel bar.

'Quite beautiful.' Stiletto turns the statuette over, running the tips of her fingers over the helpless woman's breasts, feeling the sharpness of the bronze nipples.

'Indeed, Madam.' Her maid answers.

'I shall have to devise a plan to acquire its pair.'

The gagged maid looks at her companion and smiles around her gag.

Madam Bondage blocks a blow to her thigh and another aimed at her clamped breasts but can do nothing to prevent the third from stinging her naked buttocks. As well as the blow the stick delivers a low voltage jolt to her body sending the muscles of her right hip into spasm.

Tar-ja records the blow and the slave who struck it kneels down to be replaced by another.

Madam Bondage has three opponents, all armed with tazer sticks. She is unarmed but bracers have been locked to her wrist cuffs and forearms to allow her to block blows from the sticks directly; her steel mitted fists make formidable weapons but her opponents are wary and use the range of their sticks to strike her meaning she rarely has an opportunity to land a blow. She still wears the steel slave boots and these are once again linked by the ankle chain which is locked to a ring in the floor. She is still gagged too but her blindfold has been opened giving her a clear view of the opponent in front of her but blinkering her to those at her sides. The steel collar still locked about her throat makes it more difficult to turn her head and she is thus forced to turn her body frequently, balancing on the points of the boots and ensuring she does not trip on her ankle chain.

Her opponents are nine of the Ice Maiden's slaves, mostly northern redheads though one is a blonde country girl and another looks like a high-born brunette from the south of Belladonia; all are naked. They fight her in threes changing at regular intervals to ensure they are focussed and fresh while Madam Bondage must continue to fight alone. As her opponents strike Tar-ja keeps a tally and Madam Bondage knows she will be whipped later, the number of blows in accordance with the number of times she allows herself to be struck. She can reduce her tally by landing blows on her opponents though, as well as being difficult this is not without risk; earlier she had ten opponents but an uncontrolled blow from the steel mitts has cracked the rib of one slave and earned Madam Bondage a penalty of ten lashes.

Hannah's comm bleeps and she opens her eyes. It is late afternoon and she can see a the sun setting over a tiny piece of the city through her window.

'Why are you calling me ?' Hannah sees Pauline's face appear on the screen. There have been a number of missed calls on her comm, mostly from Pauline and a few from Geri though Geri's seem to have stopped within a few days of Hannah's disappearance.

'You're in bed.'

'Of course I'm fucking in bed. I work at night; I have to sleep sometime.'

'What do you do ?' Pauline frowns. 'You're not a prostitute are you ?'

Hannah can't stop herself blushing. 'I dance.'

'Really ?'

'Yes, really !'

'Where ?'

'At Geri's Club on...' Hannah has been back to her regular life for nearly a week though, as yet, Boot Girl has not returned to Harmony. 'Look why have you called me ?'

'I missed you.'

'I've been away.'

'So I gathered. Want to tell me about it ?'

'No. I want to go to sleep.'

'Are you working tonight ?'

'Planning to come and watch me dance ?'

'No, I need your help.'

'Last time you asked for my help I ended up naked and hanging by my wrists.' Hannah pauses. 'Actually, that's been happening to me quite a lot recently.'

Pauline smiles. 'Been having fun then ?'

'No ! I've been... Look why are you calling me ?"

'Like I say I need you help.'

'No !'

'I haven't said why I need your help.'

'I don't care. I want to go back to sleep.'

'Lash and Fetish are planning a raid tonight.'

'So ?'

'Oh, come on. I've seen the way you look at Lash. You're desperate to put her over your knee and spank her.' Pauline grins. 'Or perhaps it's the other way around. Anyway I'm pretty sure she and her cronies will be going south immediately afterwards so it's our last chance to catch them or her.'

'Your last chance.' Hannah sighs. 'Call the police or something.'

'You know I can't do that. They're planning to rob Marceau's on Rue Soixant Neuf.'

'I don't care.' Hannah is about to terminate the connection.

'Ok. I'll go on my own then.'

'You haven't got a chance against Lash by yourself.'

'Someone's got to.' Pauline chides. 'Stand up for the little people.'

'I don't think Marceau could be regarded as little, she's one of the richest women in the city.'

'She needs our support as much as anyone.'

'There is no 'us'.'

'Saving yourself for Lash ?' Pauline grins mischievously.

'Fine.' Hannah sighs. 'I'll see you on the roof in an hour.'

'I knew you'd be there for me, partner.'

'Don't call me th...' Hannah looks at the blank screen.

Boot Girl and Cat Girl are crouched on a balcony overlooking Marceau's, the city's most exclusive jewelers, on Rue 69. It is dark and they have been there for over two hours.

'There.' Pauline points towards two figures approaching the jewelers from the direction of the palace and Hannah looks.

'No. Mistress and slave out for a walk.'

As the couple approach it is clear that the second figure is slightly behind the first and walks on toe boots with short hobbled steps, the girl is hooded and restrained in a slave sheath and lead by a cuff around one of her huge breasts.

Pauline sinks down behind the balcony again.

'You ever think of getting a breast job.'

'Meaning ?' The edge in Boot Girl's voice is unmistakable.

'Ok, just asking.' Pauline holds up her hands defensively. 'You can be very touchy sometimes.'

'I'm touchy ? Me ? Perhaps it's because people keep telling me my tits are too small.'

'You've got a nice butt though.' Pauline grins. 'Where did you say you danced anyway ?'

'Geri's.'

'I looked it up. You do striptease.'

'Exotic dance.'

'For money.' Pauline's tone is unmistakable accusatory.

'Most of us in the real world work for money.' Hannah hisses a sharp reply. 'Your highness.'

'Do you do private sessions ?' Pauline ignores the blonde's ire.

'I wasn't born with a crown on my head. I do what I need to pay the rent.'

'Thirty seven. You really are out of condition.' The Ice Maiden's tone is critical but carries the tone of a teacher disappointed by the performance of a favoured student. 'Better than forty three yesterday.'

Madam Bondage is back in her pillory and stocks in the centre of the Ice Maiden's great hall. It is the end of her fourth grueling day and her body aches. After another afternoon of fighting she has been lead back to the hall, allowed to pee, given an enema, watered and fed in the same way as all the previous meal since her arrival in the tower and then locked back into the heavy steel restraints in which she will again spend the night.

The Ice Maiden's finger once again strokes Madam Bondage's belly and the flush of arousal spreads almost immediately through her helpless body driving away the hurts of her training.

'I really have missed you, Little One.'

Madam Bondage is still gagged and cannot respond. The finger traces up to one of her huge breasts and caresses the firm flesh; her nipples harden straining against the confines of the clamps torturing them but the pain is drowned out by the tide of arousal the goddess' simple touch brings.

The Ice Maiden steps begins to walk slowly around her slave inspecting the bruises and lacerations on her muscular body, her finger does not leave the captive's flesh as she traces a line down the captive woman's side and across her buttocks. Each moment of contact brings increasing arousal until Madam Bondage's nipples throb with pleasure and her pussy is soaking with lust. She knows the Ice Maiden will not permit her to come but enjoying her touch is enough for the moment.

Then the teasing stops and Madam Bondage knows what is to follow.

The Ice Maiden takes up her braided whip and lets the coils slip from her fingers then looks up at her helpless slave with an expression of pity and then she draws back her arm and strikes.


Part 10 (added: 2017/12/03)

'There !' Pauline points again. The mistress and slave have passed and a tall slim figure emerges from the alley beside the jeweler's.

'You sure you want to go through with this ?' Boot Girl feels a strange responsibility for her new partner.

'You sound like my governess.'

'Please don't go there.' Boot Girl shrinks at the thought.

'That's Jezebel.'

The pair watch for several minutes but the villainess makes no attempt gain entry.

'Perhaps she's just window shopping.'

'Yeah, maybe she's met the perfect someone and has come to buy a collar.'

'So, are you seeing anybody ?' Pauline appears to lose interest in the blue costumed thief. 'Is that where you've been ?'

Hannah shrugs unwilling to share the story of her captivity at the hands of Madam Bondage.

'Playing the field then ?' Pauline runs a finger down Boot Girl's biceps. 'You've been working out too, haven't you ? You look ripped !'

'Do you ever shut up ?'

There is a heavy rumble and the heroines both look away from the jeweler towards the source of the noise. A megatruck is trundling down the road towards them. The vehicle is massive, taking up almost all the road. It is rare to see such vehicles within the city as they are designed for transporting goods between cities away from the magnetic road system.

'What ?'

As they watch the truck veers off the road and slams into the jewelers smashing the window and taking out most of the wall along one side. Alarms blare.

'Let's go.' Pauline is rising to her feet.

'Just a moment.' Boot Girl pulls her back.

The door of the truck opens and Fetish climbs out.

'Now ?' Pauline struggles in Hannah's grip.

'No, wait.'

'But...' Cat Girl gestures frantically.

Fetish and Jezebel are now inside the store.

'What about Lash and La Donna ?' Boot Girl looks meaningfully at the princess.

'Maybe they're not coming.'

'And miss this ?' Hannah raises an eyebrow.

'Fair point.'

'That's why I'm in charge.' Boot Girl can't believe what she has just said.

Another noise rises above the engines of the megatruck and the two heroines look up. A flyer descends from the sky and lands beside them. As they watch Lash climbs out of the cockpit leaving the rotors running. The flyer is the one Jezebel was using on the roof of Linden Towers, black and sleek and unmarked.

'Now we go.'

Without any further word Cat Girl leaps over the edge of the balcony, swinging, apparently effortlessly, using the branch of a nearby tree to land perfectly on the ground. Boot Girl jumps and fires her boots powering towards Lash and hitting the villainess hard from behind.

'You again.' Fetish looks up. She holds a handful of necklaces that are probably worth a considerable fortune and is in the process of stuffing them into a bag that already bulges with swag.

'Yeah. Me !' Pauline dives towards her driving her shoulder into the villainess' belly and sending her sprawling.

'Bitch.'

'That's Cat Bitch to you, Rubber Slut.'

The two trade blows but Fetish is soon overpowered and Cat Girl cuffs the villainess' wrists behind her and around the base of a display cabinet.

'Fetish. What are the fuck were you doing with that truck, I could have...? Oh, hello !' Jezebel emerges from the back of the shop with her own bag of jewels, smaller and neater, clearly carefully chosen. Pauline rises from where she is crouched over Fetish.

'If I'd known we were expecting company I'd have brought some toys.' The villainess smiles suggestively. 'You must be the Booted one's new sexy kitten.'

'I'm Cat Girl.'

'I bet you are.' Jezebel's voice is lascivious. 'I think I'd better put you one a leash.' As she speaks the villainess moves forward with almost superhuman speed and Pauline barely has time to avoid the punch; the blow is glancing and Cat Girl staggers; she tries to regain her balance but Jezebel spins and sweeps her legs away from under her; Cat Girl goes down heavily.

'Just a kitten. Can't even stand up yet.'

Pauline tries to rise but Jezebel drops to pin her to the floor with her shin across the heroine's throat. The brunette struggles but Jezebel seems remarkable solid and Pauline is reminded of the power of Madam Bondage; she can do nothing as the villainess pulls a leather thong from her belt with the clear intention of binding her victim; then, suddenly the woman is no longer there and is rolling, tumbling over and over; it takes Pauline a moment to realise Boot Girl has hit the villainess hard from the side.

Cat Girl climbs unsteadily to her feet. At the bottom of the aisle Boot Girl and Jezebel are trading blows with Jezebel clearly gaining the upper hand. Cat Girl runs towards them shouting as Boot Girl is forced back over a display cabinet; she can see Jezebel about to hit the heroine hard, a blow that will probably render her opponent unconscious. She leaps onto the cabinet with one foot to give her height and launches herself at Jezebel feet first but the villainess is too quick and ducks the flying kick. It does, however, give Boot Girl a chance to lift her knee into Jezebel's side unbalancing the brunette, and as Cat Girl lands she sees the heroine push her opponent back and snap a kick at her belly, knocking Jezebel back further and doubling her over. Boot Girl is about to press her advantage when Pauline hears a hiss and crackle over the alarm and sees her partner reel to the side. Looking up she sees a brunette in a fighting harness holding a tazer, in the dim light it is difficult to see the woman's face but there is something about her body and movement that is familiar.

'Down !' Boot Girl forces out a cracked warning, she is not unconscious but her body twitching and she is gasping following the tazer strike.

Cat Girl drops to a crouch as blast of tazer fire crackles over her head, one of the lights above her exploding in a flash and shower of glass. She shakes her head to clear it and hears a police siren over the thrum of the flyer's engines.

'Jezebel, let's go !'

'Just one police bike. We can still bag our little kitten here.' Jezebel looks down at Cat Girl and the heroine looks up from where she is crouched then slowly rises trying to show a confidence she no longer feels.

'No ! We go now.'

'What about Lash and Fetish ?' Jezebel looks around briefly then focusses her gaze back on the heroine.

More sirens can be heard.

'We go now.'

Jezebel nods. 'Yes, La Donna.' She turns to Cat Girl. 'Shame, I was just beginning to enjoy our little game. I'm definitely going to get a collar made for our next meeting.'

'Now !' La Donna raises her voice.

Jezebel picks up her own bag of swag and walks towards Fetish. 'A blue one with sapphires will look beautiful round that lovely neck of yours.'

'Armed Police trooper. Raise your hands or I will fire.'

Pauline looks to her left to see the trooper holding a tazer though the girl seems unsure whether to point it at Cat Girl or Jezebel. She does not appear to have spotted La Donna and suddenly staggers back her left arm falling to her side and the tazer dropping from her grip.

'Jezebel. We leave now.'

Jezebel bends to pick up Fetish but then realises she is cuffed to the counter.

'Leave her.'

Jezebel looks sharply a La Donna but nods curtly. 'Yes, My Lady.'

The trooper is rubbling her paralysed arm and Cat Girl drops beside Boot Girl.

'Go !' Hannah can barely move though her muscles have stopped spasming.

'I can't leave you.'

'You mustn't be caught.'

'But...'

'Go, I'll be fine.' Boot Girl looks past the brunette's shoulder and Pauline turns, looking up to see the trooper behind her drawing her baton.

'Kneel and place your wrists behind your back.'

Pauline's mouth falls open. 'But...'

'Welcome to my world.' Boot Girl grins. 'Officer Pepper. How lovely to see you again.'

'Boot Girl ?'

'You'll have to take me in this time, Pep. Nothing else for it.' She looks up at Pauline again and mouths 'Go !'

Pauline starts to rise.

'Who are you ?'

'I'm...'

'She's nobody, just a civilian caught in the crossfire.' Boot Girl cuts Pauline off. 'Go on, Pep. You know you want to. I'm completely helpless. Cuff me. Think of the kudos !'

'But...'

'Go on, Honey !' Boot Girl manages a wink. 'Let her go and you get five minutes alone with me and I'll be cuffed and naked.'

'But your not naked.'

'I'm not cuffed yet.' Boot Girl grins and winks again.

'Oh...' Detective Pepper smiles slowly, a slight blush coming to her dimpled cheeks.

'Go.' Boot Girl hisses urgently to Pauline who reluctantly stands and looks around. Another police bike is settling outside the jeweler but the rider is looking at the black flyer which is taking off. Detective Pepper is kneeling beside Boot Girl apparently enjoying the process of cuffing the helpless girl's wrists behind her back and taking the opportunity to stroke her perfect buttocks at the same time.

'That's abuse of police power that is.' Boot Girl's voice is a soft purr.

'Er...?' The trooper looks shocked for a moment. 'But I thought... Oh.' She grins. 'So, report me to my superiors.'

'Or I could punish you myself later.'

Detective Pepper's mouth opens wide and Pauline rolls her eyes turning to leave them, clearly completely forgotten by the trooper.

Outside the flyer is just above the rooftops and turning south. Lash lies sprawled on the road where Boot Girl has left her, the newly arrived trooper crouching over her. A police mag-car is approaching with its siren's wailing. Pauline looks for a route of escape and, in the darkness slips down the side of the building to disappear into the night.

Madam Bondage kneels in the Ice Maiden's chamber; her hands, still confined in the steel mitts, are shackled behind her with a heavy chain that, together with the chain linking her steel booted feet is locked to an iron ring securely anchored to the floor. She remains collared and the nipple stars and genital clamps are still in place; the steel plug is still locked in her anus. She is blindfolded but no longer gagged.

She has been in the tower for three weeks enduring day after day of intense training and punishment. Most days have been like the first though sometimes instead of forms she has undergone strength training, lifting heavy weights, including the pillory under the demanding and punishing supervision of Tar-ja or, on occasions, the Ice Maiden herself; most of the afternoons have involved combat training almost always against ten slaves armed with various weapons including tazar sticks and whips.

She knows now though that her ordeal has come to an end. Below her in the castle pens ten slaves, naked and in chains are being punished by Tar-ja for their defeat at the hands of the statuesque heroine.

'Tar-ja tells me you you have trained diligently, Little One.'

'If it please you, Goddess.'

The Ice Maiden inspects the kneeling slave's chains.

'I see she too has been diligent in her training.'

'Indeed, Goddess.' Madam Bondage smiles.

The Ice Maiden strokes the kneeling woman's hair with her fingers. Though Madam Bondage cannot see her she is naked, her skin pale and smooth in the soft light of the chamber. At her touch Madam Bondage's body responds in the usual way. She senses the Ice Maiden walk behind her, feels the gentle fingers touch her back caressing the scars and welts caused by her training many of which the blonde herself has made. Her skin flushes and her nipples harden, almost immediately her sex moistens and she knows her Mistress must smell her arousal.

'You have always been my most eager student.'

'I have always strived to please you, Goddess.'

'And tomorrow you must leave.'

'If you were to command it, Goddess, I would stay for ever.' Even after what she has endured part of her yearns to be given that command.

'Your submission is to a greater power than mine.'

'Yes, Goddess.' Madam Bondage bows her head as best she can in the high steel collar.

'And the penitent one ?'

'She endures, Goddess. I do for her what I can. One day perhaps she will find her way here that you may fully cleanse her.'

'You think she can endure.'

'As I desire to worship you, so she does with me.'

'Yet, you truly love me.'

'There is room in my heart for her because it is filled with love for you.'

The Ice Maiden stands before her and smiles.

'One day perhaps we can be together.'

'I pray it will be so Goddess.'

'You may worship me.'

'Yes, Goddess.' Madam Bondage bows forward her lips blindly seeking the bare foot of her paramore. She kisses the soft warm skin and it is as if sexual energy flows through her lips into her body. Desiring more she gently extends her tongue to touch the skin and shudders with pleasure as the way her body tingles.

'Enough.'

'Forgive me, Goddess.'

'While you are still weak you will return to visit me to continue your training.'

'I pray it will be so, Goddess.'

Madam Bondage's body now pulses with lust. She has not come for three weeks yet has constantly been exposed to the arousing presence of the Ice Maiden. Each night the pale blonde has touched her, arousing her intensely, but has never allowed her to reach orgasm.

There is a pressure on her right breast as the Ice Maiden unlocks the cap covering her right nipple, the device is still firmly locked to her nipple and the barbs still pierce her areole but the nipple itself is now exposed. The Ice Maiden repeats the process with the left nipple and then the cap covering Madam Bondage's clitoris.

The Ice Maiden kneels before her slave and gently bends to kiss one of the exposed nipples.

The effect is immediate and intense. Madam Bondage comes, the orgasm ripping through her body with a force more intense than anything she has endured in the previous three weeks. She is left gasping, her heart hammering in her chest, all thought of anything other than the intense lust pervading her body driven instantly from her.

'Forgive me, Goddess.'

'There is nothing to forgive this time, Little One. I commanded and you responded but if you prefer me to say it aloud, you have my permission to come.'

The Ice Maiden leans forward and kisses Madam Bondage's other nipple...

Power pulses through Madam Bondage's body. She flexes her shoulders and the chains holding her wrists shatter; she stands tearing the steel collar from her throat and steps towards the kneeling Ice Maiden; the chains fall from her ankles; and she opens her hand shattering the steel mitts that have confined her.

Bending low she sweeps the kneeling woman into her arms as if she weighs almost nothing and throws her onto the bed of silk and furs where she lays pale and alluring on carpet of her own hair. The Ice Maiden spreads her arms and legs almost reflexively and Madam Bondage takes only a moment to secure her wrists and ankles before leaping upon her and forcing her mouth against the soft pale lips, her tongue probing between them.

The Ice Maiden writhes under the overwhelming assault her nipples hard, chest and cheeks flushed crimson with desire; she arches her tiny body up against Madam Bondage offering herself unreservedly to the other woman's power. Madam Bondage's tongue moves to caress the tiny pert nipples and then down onto the slim belly before plunging into the blonde's warm, wet sex.

The Ice Maiden gasps as she comes thrusting her hips up at her lover as she tries to rip every ounce of pleasure from her touch.

'She wants what ?' Contesse de Renee cannot conceal her irritation and Adele shudders at the consequences for her long-suffering breasts.

'Lady Bishop returns from her Pzorich in two days and has requested the pleasure of your company at the feast.' Adele is once again locked in the pillory making her report. 'Her Shield Maiden called me an hour ago.'

'Can't you tell her I'm not available ?' Contesse de Renee picks up the discipline whip.

'Madam. Protocol dictates...' Adele's response is stopped by a stinging blow to her large and breasts. The bruises from her last punishment have almost faded.

'Gaia damn protocol.' The contesse delivers another blow. 'That castle is cold...' another strike, '...damp...' another, '...draughty...' another. Contesse de Renee continues Adele's beating until she has run out of adjectives then pauses to look down at her lover's breasts, now aglow with red welts.

'Madam...'

'Oh, Adele...' Contesse de Renee's voice softens. She lifts one of the heavy globes, stroking the nipple and then bends to kiss the crisscrossing pattern of bruises. Then she kisses the kneeling woman on the lips. Adele returns the kiss guardedly but then with an increasing passion as her nipple is teased. After a few moments, both women are deeply aroused and when Lady de Renee pulls away both are panting.

Contesse de Renee drops to her knees and takes her lover's head in her hands kissing her again, pressing her large breasts against those of the kneeling blonde.

'Adele ?' The contesse continues the kiss as she speaks.

'Yes, Mistress ?'

Contesee de Renee grins. 'We could send Pauline.'

'No, Mistress.'

Lady de Renee pulls away and stands picking up her whip.

'Your breasts are going to be very sore in the morning.'

Adele sighs. 'Yes, Mistress.'

Madam Bondage stands on the threshold of the labyrinth, her final trial, the completion of her pzorich. She has awoken again in her chains unsure, as ever, whether her night of passion with the Ice Maiden has been a dream or perhaps some hallucination caused by the intensity of her confinement. In the tower and its dungeons, frequently kept hooded she has no concept of the passing of time, even were she outside at this time in the late northern summer the sun would be always in the sky.

After being fed, as always, on her knees with her hands chained behind her, eating with her mouth from a bowl and lapping water with her tongue she has been lead by Tar-ja to the chamber deep beneath the tower where the labyrinth begins. Here the chains on her wrists and ankles have been struck away though her hands remain imprisoned in the steel mitts and the steel boots are still locked on her feet; her blindfold has been removed too; she is still collared and the clamps still bite onto her tortured nipples and sex though her nipples themselves are exposed.

Alone in the dim light she looks down into the darkness of the pit. It is not her first passage through the labyrinth but she knows that each time it changes, testing her in different and more demanding ways. A smile flickers across her strong features and she leaps down into the darkness.

Madam Bondage lands with a force that shatters the stone beneath the steel boots the sound of the impact echoing around the pit and back to her ears from the chamber above. She crouches, raising her steel encased fists, circling slowly, silently peering into the darkness, straining with her senses to for some sign of threat but, sensing nothing, she edges slowly forward seeking out the wall ahead of her meaning to follow it to an exit. The toe boots force total awareness of her posture and her balance and then, suddenly she feels the floor give beneath her feet; there is a hiss to her right and she drops instinctively, rolling forwards and twisting; light and sound explode as the missile bursts on its impact with the wall. She is dazzled by the flash but in its instant she sees the exit she must reach, its shape imprinted on her retina.

There is a hiss and she rolls again, a second explosion detonating above her triggering a third missile and this in turn a fourth. Madam Bondage dives and rolls hearing over the clash of her steel boots, the sound of stone scraping on stone; another flash reveals blocks on the floor, stone blocks designed to trip her, blocks that were not there after the first flash. The rate at which the missiles are being launched is increasing and she abandons any attempt to stand or even roll, crawling on her belly struggling to move without easy use of her hands, aware of the pressure her movements cause on her imprisoned breasts and nipples. A rising block begins to lift her hips, pressing against her clamped sex and she rolls onto her back landing heavily on the butt plug then rolls again before dragging herself forwards and pushing herself to her feet. She leaps for the door pushing her weight against it and crashing through into the next room.

Madam Bondage rolls to avoid the falling axe of a training golem. The ancient device is clockwork, of the same provenance as the devices in which she imprisons Hazel but, she suspects, equipped with modern motion sensors and targeting/strategy software, an incongruous addition to the ancient keep. The golem is fashioned in bronze and has an array of weaponry as well as the axe which includes a spear and a solid looking studded wooden baton.

Iron beats bronze. Too easy, surely.

Madam Bondage rises to her knees and uses her steel encased fists to block the baton, splintering the weapon. She looks to her left and sees a second device creeping towards her on articulated legs. This one carries two crossbows, not repeaters, and spinning discs with blades like rotating saws.

More like it.

She blocks a crossbow bolt with her hand and another glances off her right nipple star. She grimaces with pain and delivers a glare which would strike fear into any human opponent.

There is a third device ahead, a tall steel cylinder which flicks whips around itself like writhing tentacles

You first I think.

Madam Bondage rises and kicks out at the bronze golem, the heel of her stiletto puncturing its casing. The arm with the sword stops moving.

Still too...

She looks up, another device hangs for the ceiling. As she spots it the golem drops like a spider, eight mechanical arms wrapping themselves around her body pinning her arms, one crushing her tortured breasts. The bronze spear stabs towards her but she is already running, even as the spider struggles to enfold her legs. She turns to let the device on her back take the next two crossbow bolts though these simply glance off its steel casing. The device is heavy, slowing her despite her great strength; she knows its function is to pin her to allow the other golums to finish her; if she falls with the spider on her back she will be helpless. One mechanical leg begins to wrap around her thighs.

Oh no you don't !

She drops into full splits, landing painfully on her pierced, clamped sex. The move is enough to dislodge the device upwards a little and she manages to free her left arm using it to pound the metal casing. An arm wraps itself around her neck but the collar prevents it from choking her. Behind her the bronze golem is rolling towards her on its wheels and the one with the crossbows is reloading to her right. She feels a blow to the cheek as the device with the whips is come within striking range, it's leather tentacles starting to bite into other her bare skin.

With a final blow she immobilises the spider and throws it off tangling it in the whips on one side of the oncoming golem. Those on the other side lash her flesh as she rises and cartwheels quickly, two more bolts splintering on the wall behind her. The device with the whips is nearest, turning to bring the free thongs to bear upon her dragging the spider behind it.

Must keep moving.

She dives, tacking the golem with the whips and knocking it over. For a moment she considers some way of using the whips as a weapon but her hands are useless for anything other than striking and blocking. The crossbows are reloading and she only has a moment. She begins to run then leaps in the air and the bolts flash beneath her, she tucks tightly and drives the heels of her steel boots at the deadly device knocking it back several feet. At close quarters the crossbows are useless but the device brings the flesh tearing wheels towards her. Her left heel has pierced the casing at her own head height and is caught so that she is forced to balance on her right foot, her legs spread wide; one spinning blade is moving towards her right thigh and the other towards her breasts.

No you don't.

She hammers her right fist down on the lower blade, pounding it until it stops spinning, with a grating of metal even as the arm continues to bring it to bear on the flesh of her thigh; but she has no time to stop it, the second blade hisses against one of the stars locked to her breasts and rips at her exposed nipple.

Fuck.

Madam Bondage cries out in pain even as she smashes her right fist into the arm supporting the blade snapping it clean off.

You have really pissed me off now.

Aware of the weakness she hammers at the arms supporting the weapons breaking them and the pulls her foot free.

Time to meet your maker.

Madam Bondage spins on her heel and smashes her steel covered foot into the top of the device knocking it over with the force of her blow. The golem lies motionless and Madam Bondage looks down at her grazed, bleeding nipple.

It is only then that she remembers the other device.

Madam Bondage turns as the bronze axe glances off her steel collar tearing the flesh of her shoulder though fortunately the wound is only superficial.

Damn you, Tar-Ja.

She drives her fists hard at the device's casing, denting it and immobilising the spear arm. A kick pierces its middle section and the golem still.

Madam Bondage drops to one knee, her mighty chest heaving. She feels her shoulder but the wound it only superficial as is the graze to her nipple. There are some bloody welts down her side form the whips, interlacing with the bruising form her punishments during the pzorich.

Fuck, I'm getting too old for this.

Madam Bondage pauses to catch her breath and then, using her mitted hand pushes herself to stand. Slowly, allowing herself a few moment to recover she walks to the door opposite the one she entered and pushes her fist into recess beside it triggering the release. The door springs open and Madam Bondage steps through to face her next challenge.

A corridor stretches before her, disappearing into darkness beyond the light of the room. Madam Bondage looks down at the floor looking for patterns, traps, loose stones or tripwires; she then checks the ceiling and then the walls.

Nothing.

The heroine takes a cautious step forward placing her steel booted foot lightly on the stone floor.

Nothing.

She runs a hand across the heavy stone blocks that make up the wall.

Nothing.

Another cautious step.

Nothing.

Another.

The darkness is closing around Madam Bondage as she slowly, cautiously makes her way, taking one careful step after another along the corridor. A few more steps and she will be relying on touch alone.

She's just trying to psych me out.

There is a faint pressure against her leg.

Madam Bondage starts to run.

Whips strike Madam Bondage's body as she runs scourging her back and belly, her buttocks and her thighs. She can feel them around her face and keeps her hands up protecting her face, her eyes as her body is lashed repeatedly.

She is in complete darkness, running utterly blindly and then she falls.

Madam Bondage opens her eyes. There is light above her, far above her, the lip of the pit. Her body lies spreadeagle on a hard surface. She tries to move her arms but cannot, the same is true for her legs. Cautiously she lifts her head as much as she is able, restricted by the collar. Her limbs are restrained, spread wide, heavy chains holding her wrists and ankles.

Tar-ja appears above her.

'Careless, slut.' Tar-ja brings her cane down hard across the helpless redhead's belly. Despite the ferocity of the blow it is just another one of many that the Mistress of Strangeways has received.

'I see I am going to have to punish you.' Tar-ja turns away and moves a lever attached to the wall. Madam Bondage's bonds tighten, stretching her aching body. A second movement of the lever and she feels herself lifted from the floor, just her buttocks touching the stone. A third tightening and she hangs, helpless form the four chains.

There is the sound of stone grating over stone and Madam Bondage looks around. Tar-ja is falling and it takes her a moment to realise that the floor is descending, moving slowly away from her. When the floor stops Madam Bondage is hanging by her wrists and ankles at Tar-ja's chest height.

'If the floor had been another twenty feet down you could have been killed.' Tar-ja runs the cane along Madam Bondage's flank, stroking the bruised flesh.

'But the loss of a slave would not be mourned.' Tar-ja is standing beside Lady Bishop's shoulder and grasps the helpless woman's red hair pulling her head down and twisting it roughly so that she is forced to look into the Chief Slave's dark eyes.

'You may be Mistress of Strangeways but you are nothing here.'

Seeing the acknowledgement in the captive woman's eyes she releases her grip and moves to the redhead's side.

'Here you are a slave.' Tar-ja delivers the cane across Lady Bishop's chest.

'A tongue to enjoy.' The Chief Slave moves the lever again and Madam Bondage is stretched agonsingly in her chains.

'A worthless cunt.' Tar-ja strikes the helpless woman between her spread thighs.

'If I had my way I would leave you here like a forgotten plaything. You would die in agony and nobody would care.' She brings the cane down again and again on Madam Bondage's tortured body and then turns pulling the lever again.

Madam Bondage cries out in pain, closing her eyes, as her body is stretched to it limit, another pull and her joints will begin to dislocate.

Madam Bondage opens her eyes and turns to look at her tormentress. She knows she can endure no more, that she must beg to survive, or at least survive with her body intact but her tormentress is gone.

And then she is falling.

Madam Bondage cries out again as her body recoils from its stretched, tortured state. There is no time to brace herself before she hits the stone floor but the impact doesn't come and she continues to fall.

In the seconds that she falling, Madam Bondage knows she has fallen too far to survive the impact.

'Take me to your bosom, Ice Goddess.'

Even as the muttered words leave her lips the impact comes like a death blow to her battered, exhausted body, driving the breath from her lungs and then she feels the icy chill of the water envelop her.

Spent almost beyond her endurance Madam Bondage surrenders herself to the freezing embrace of the waters beneath the Ice Maiden's tower feeling herself sinking in to its welcoming depths. Her heartbeat begins to slow, it's pulse becoming loud, almost unbearable in her ears and she longs for it to cease.

Take me, Mistress.

She can see the face of the Ice Maiden, the goddess is smiling, her hair bright, almost blinding as she enfolds Madam Bondage's mortal body in her arms, wrapping her in her robes, holding her, squeezing her, crushing her...

The chill of the water has numbed her body, taking away all her pain but now there is a pain in her ears that is building. Madam Bondage looks to the goddess to ease it away but the blonde woman shakes her ahead and turns away.

It is the worst of all the torments she has suffered.

Madam Bondage cries out from the depths of her being, a cry of anguish that turns to rage.

There is water in her mouth and he nose, its is as if it is trying to force its was into her head as its chill sucks the life from her body.

She strikes out, but is disorientated, unsure which way to swim. Encumbered by the steel boots and mitts it is almost impossible to swim anyway.

I am not ready to die.

The very boots that drag her down have orientated her body in the right direction and she kicks her powerful legs using her arms as best she can, swimming with all her formidable strength.

Swimming up...

Her strength is failing. Her muscles almost spent. Her breath almost gone.

No !

Madam Bondage breaks the surface of the water, gasping air into her lungs and coughing violently in response to the water she draws in with it. She is shivering violently almost dead from the cold, her body barely able to function.

She is in pitch darkness.

Desperately she reaches out with her mitted hands as she wills her legs to kick, struggling to keep herself afloat but she can feel nothing, only the insubstantial elements of air and water.

She strikes out into the darkness and, after a few strokes one of her steel mitts strikes stone and she scrabbles for something to support herself with.

She finds only a sheer wall and howls with frustration.

All she can do is turn to follow it hoping to find some sort of hand or foothold. Her teeth are chattering and her body shivering so violently that she can barely control her limbs.

'I will not die.'

She does not mean to speak aloud let alone to shout but she hears her words echo back at her.

She finds a ledge, exploring it with her forearms, her cheek, her tongue; her shin strikes something below the water; there are steps, a ladder. Madam Bondage hooks her elbow around one of the rungs and pushes with her foot dragging herself from the water. Her muscles seem barely able to function like she is trying to control another's body with her will but she drags herself up one rung at a time forcing herself to climb.

She is no longer shivering and she feels no pain.

The effort of the climbed has warmed her body. Fueled by determination, some hidden life force that has provided energy for the long, grueling ascent. She has taken back her life, dragging her body through the agony of shivering and cramping muscles, the return of her pain: the bruising to her body, the welts on her skin, the torment of the clamps on her sex and breasts.

Madam Bondage kneels on one knee, her chest heaving, her mitted hands resting on the rough stone maintaing her balance. The chamber is dimly lit, an ice cavern with huge icicles and great sheets of ice that reflect the light in a way that, even in her current dire situation is utterly breathtaking. The cavern, carved by meltwater in the northern spring is so vast that it disappears into darkness above and ahead of her, the only crafted feature visible a dais on which rests something that glitters faintly but differently to the ice in the dim light.

She hears the soft growl.

Her head lifts, senses alert, trying the penetrate the darkness with her vision, sniffing the air.

The growl comes again a little off to the right and Madam Bondage pushes herself up with her fists, rising to stand to meet her next challenge.

The ice bear rears above her, roaring now and, though Madam Bondage is tall and powerful among her own kind and her height enhanced by the boots, the creature dwarfs her; its claws are longer than the stilettos which are locked to her feet and just as deadly; its forelimbs are thicker than her thighs.

The creature lunges and Madam Bondage slams her mitted fists into the heavy paw then dives, skinning her shoulder as she tumbles across the rugged stone floor before sliding on the ice; then she is up and running with the bear lumbering behind her. She knows what must be on the dais and knows that her only chance of surviving is to reach it before the bear catches her.

Across open tundra she would be dead by now, the lumbering bear able to gather speed and momentum but, across the rocky floor of the cavern dodging between the icicles and rocks she has the advantage though she knows that one slip or trip will end her life.

One the dais are a set of bear claws, weapons from a previous time, a weapon of Son-ja's people. These differ only that they are made of modern steel and designed to fit around the steel mitts that confine her hands. She thrusts her fists into the claws and feels them lock onto her bonds. The bear is almost upon her and she starts to turn to raise her new claws in defense but her hands are locked in place.

Her shriek of anger and frustration echos around the icy walls as she tugs frantically at the bonds holding her in place like a helpless sacrifice.

The bear rears again...

Madam Bondage's hands are freed as the great white bear rears above her. She has just enough time to duck beneath a blow from a paw that is powerful enough to break her body; the tips of the claws rake her bare shoulder and the creature roars scenting her blood.

It lunges again and she thrusts out desperately driving her own claws into the creature's side. The beast howls.

She knows she must keep moving even as her mind tells her to go for the kill. She cannot tell if it is pride or her body warning her that the conflict must end quickly before her strength is utterly spent.

The creature circles her, walking on all fours, slightly wary now she has claws too.

Madam Bondage turns, crouching low watching the pattern of the bear's movements and then springs up raking her claws down over the bears back. The creature rears, roaring and Madam Bondage drives her claws in to its flesh. The bears thrashes and she hangs on desperately before leaping clear as the bears rolls backwards.

Want to play some more ?

Madam Bondage roars.

There is blood on the bear's fur, splashes of dark crimson on the white pelt. The creature seems warier now and perhaps a little slowed by its wounds but if it is tiring it is not doing so quickly enough for Madam Bondage. The Mistress of Strangeways slips on a patch of ice, staggers and the bear lunges.

She dives to the side, kicking out and then turns, leaping to drive her claws into the bear's flank, but it is quicker than she expects and her fist is turned, the claws tangling in the creature's fur; it drags her up with it as it rears and a claw rakes across her belly slicing flesh, catching on the edge of one of her nipple stars and tearing the hook from her flesh.

In pain and fury, Madam Bondage lunges up with her free hand piercing the underside of the bear's jaw, hot blood spatters over her face. In the instant that the creature reacts she is able to twist her caught hand free and turn.

She is standing on the dais before the bear which is reared up on its hind legs, its paws raised in an almost human gesture in reaction to the wound on its face. Its belly and chest are open to her claws, she can rakes them in to rip the creatures abdomen open or plunge them in to its chest to pierce its huge heart.

Madam Bondage draws back her fists to strike.

Madam Bondage rakes her claws across the bear's chest drawing blood, enough to wound but not to kill. The bears turns away dropping to all fours.

The Mistress of Strangeways roars and the bear looks back then, dropping its head lumbers off towards the darkness of the ice cavern in search of easier prey.

The dais beneath her feet begins to rise.

The final room is empty save for the pillory and stocks. The dais has lifted her through the roof of the ice cave into a chamber of stone blocks with two doors. Madam Bondage gives a grim smile and walks stiffly towards the restraints; her body aches and her skin burns from the multiple wounds that cover her, every muscle fibre feels utterly drained of energy, stretched to exhaustion. Awkwardly she stands against the restraint, lifting her arms with an effort to push her wrist cuffs into the recesses of the pillory designed to hold them, she leans back pressing her collar against the device too, spreading her ankles against the stock.

The device snaps shut pinning her, utterly helpless, and she knows her pzorich is over, save for one final ordeal.

Madam Bondage looks up. Tar-ja is there; the small dark haired woman is naked aside from her high steel collar; in her hand is the iron, glowing with its white heat. Madam bondage looks from Tar-Ja to the glowing brand, the mark of the ice bear.

'You have not disappointed the Goddess.'

'Thank you.'

Tar-ja smiles, reaching out a slim finger to touch the helpless redhead's blood-coated right nipple, taking pleasure in the way it stiffens at her touch, then she walks slowly to Madam Bondage's right side where the redhead already wears the brand of the ice bear. Tar-Ja traces the outline of the brand with her finger and then lowers the iron to it. Madam Bondage can feel the heat against her thigh and then her body is racked the nauseating pain of the brand's kiss. She forces down a scream as she tenses in her bonds, the smallest sound escaping her lips.

Tar-Ja lifts the brand away and reaches up to stroke the helpless woman's matted hair in a way that is almost tender.

'Until next time then.' Tar-Ja's smile is almost tender. 'Unless you'd like to enjoy one final whipping.'

'Next time...' Madam Bondage manages a slight grimace and Tar-Ja strokes her bloody nipple again.

'Shame.' The tiny brunette turns to go carrying the brand. She steps though the door and closes it behind her.

A moment later another door opens and a blast of icy wind howls into the room making the helpless northerner shiver uncontrollably. Son-ja is there, her legs in furs and her harness strapped in place; she holds a handful of snow in her fur-mitted hands which she pushes against the newly augmented brand on her mistress' thigh.

The galleries of the courtroom are packed with press and curious citizens of Harmony hoping mostly to see prisoner H014583, better known as Boot Girl. The central court is a historical building in the gothic style set in the old district of the city and was once also Harmony's prison although what were once the cells have been turned into offices and prisoners other than those brought in for trial are housed in a new purpose built prison outside the city limits.

Her Honour, Justice Helena Gaville presides, sitting on the bench above the court in her scarlet robes and powdered wig. City Prosecutor Edwina Bailey herself represents the Contesse de Renee, sitting, as is customary to the judges right with her legal team while Tania Tidetite from the prestigious legal firm Tidetite and Longue represents the first of the defendants. Both Edwina and Tania are classic highborn Harmony woman, furthermore Tania is Harmony nobility, a far removed niece to the Contesse and 'cousin' to Pauline. Tania is the daughter of Melissa Tidetite cofounder of the firm which she now represents and, by all accounts, a woman who will exceed her mother's forceful and fearful reputation. La Donna sits behind Tania and her team with Angelica kneeling chained, naked and hooded at her feet; Jezebel sits beside her.

Lash and Fetish are the first to be brought in. Both are cuffed at the wrist and elbow and hobbled at the ankle, Fetish is gagged; they are leashed and escorted to the dock by four troopers where they are pushed to their knees and their leashes are fastened to rings designed for the purpose; Fetish's gag is removed.

The clerk of the court reads the charges and the prisoners are asked to confirm their names.

'You are Lash ?'

'La'esh !'

The clerk makes a note on her tablet.

'Margaret Brundage.'

'I prefer Fetish.'

'The prisoner will answer the question.'

Lash looks at her colleague and mouth's 'Margaret ?'

'Yes, I am Margaret Brundage.' Fetish mumbles a little indistinctly.

'La'esh, how do you plead to the charge of Aggravated Burglary ?'

At that moment Tania rises dramatically to her feet. 'Your Worship, the defense seeks leave to approach the Bench.'

Justice Gaville looks a little surprised but her experience tells her that some sort of legal loophole is about to be presented. She sighs inwardly but gives no outward expression of her thoughts.

'Very well, the Prosecution will attend on me also.'

Edwina glances at her opponent and sheds her black gown revealing an elegant grey wool minidress that hugs and displays the gentle contours of her slim body and drops to her elegant stockinged knees. Tania follows suit; she wears an expensive blouse and slim pencil skirt that is so tight around the knee that it reduces her length of stride. Both women crawl to the platforms before the Bench where they kneel awaiting the judge's pleasure.

The murmured whispers around the court have grown to full hubbub by the time the legal exchange is completed and the two lawyers crawl back to their teams, rerobe and retake their seats. Justice Gaville brings the court to order and over one hundred heads turn expectantly towards her. The expression on her face suggests she is not best pleased.

'Let the court record that the charges are not to be answered. I have been presented with extradition papers stating that La'esh and Margaret Brundage, also known as Fetish, are reperesentatives of the state of Donia and thus have full diplomatic protection. Case is dismissed. Release the prisoners.'

There is much murmuring around the gallery and evident disapproval as Lash and Fetish are released. Fetish rubs her wrists and waves to the gallery drawing boos and cat-calls from the assembly. As the pair step from the dock La Donna and Jezebel rise, La Donna drawing Angelica behind her.

They leave the court building amid two chains of police troopers holding back a large and increasingly vociferous crowd and stroll towards a sleek silver ground car.

'Thank you, my Lady.' Lash rubs her wrists after two days in chains.

'It's probably more than you deserve after the jewel store fiasco but, to be honest, another day flying with Jezebel and I may have to buy a pair of stout walking shoes.'

'I am a perfectly capable pilot and, I may add, more qualified than Lash.' Jezebel protests.

'Yes, but you do everything by the book. The shoes were to help me get there faster.'

Jezebel looks a little offended. 'I think you'll find my risk of an airbourne accident is considerably lower than hers. My reflexes are quicker and...'

'And you fly like a tortoise.'

'My Lady, that is not a very appropriate metaphor.'

'Shut up Jezebel and give Lash the keys before we are harangued by that sanctimonious bitch Juliana fucking Chayen.'

Back in the courthouse prisoner H014583 has just been bought in and placed kneeling in the dock. She is represented by Juliana Chayen of Chayen, D'upp and Lovenitt,who unusually for a lawyer is of country stock, blonde and big boned to the point of being statuesque. Juliana is one of only half a dozen Belladonians in the last half century to have won a scholarship to Brideshead, the Angelisch 'Academy for Young Ladies' where girls leaving education, usually at the age of nineteen, are 'finished'. After Brideshead, Juliana attended law school on Harmony and has rapidly established herself as an outspoken civil rights lawyer who, more than once has attacked the southern institution of enforced, as opposed to, pledged, slavery.

Once Hannah's identity is confirmed to the court it is Prosecutor Edwina who rises and seeks to approach the judge.

Justice Gaville sighs heavily. 'It would seem no real justice is to be seen today. Very well, council for the defense will approach too.'

Granted permission, Edwina once again removes her her robes and Juliana follows suit revealing a white silk blouse and black leather hobble skirt; over the blouse is an underbust corset that draws in her waist and emphasising her impressive cleavage. The two lawyers drop to their knees and crawl to the bench.

'Well, Council.'

'Your worship. The Crown is aware of the unusual nature of this case and of the,' Edwina pauses, '...well meaning acts of the defendant. The Crown has therefore instructed me to withdraw the case.'

'Early lunch all round then.' Justice Gaville draws the only silver lining she can from the situation.

'There is one condition.' Edwina glances nervously at her fellow council.

'Go on.'

'The defendant is to be released into the charge of the Princess Pauline.'

Justice Gaville frowns. 'I'm not sure our learned colleague for the defense would agree to that.'

'Indeed your honour. Equal justice for all. In such an arrangement it would be impossible to safeguard the rights of my client.'

'I am assured that your client will assent and have been asked to give you this.' Edwina hands a note to Juliana.

'If I may your Honour.'

'Indeed. It's not as if I have better things to do.'

Juliana opens the letter and scans its contents. 'I will require a moment with my client.' After reading the letter her cheeks are a little flushed and her voice a little unsteady.

'Very well.'

Juliana crawls back to her team before she stands and walks to the dock; there she places her arms behind her back and allows the clerk of the court to cuff her wrists and elbows; she is then permitted to enter the dock and the screens raised to allow her a private conversation with her client.

Boot Girl waits in her cell beneath the courthouse. It is two hours since her case has been abandoned and she has accepted the condition of being released into Pauline's custody. The heroine is, however, still naked and cuffed. Finally the door opens and Pauline enters. The Princess wears a hooded cloak though, as she raises her hands to throw back the hood, it is clear she wears her usual bustier, breaches and boots. There is a short crop tucked into the top of her right boot.

She grins at Hannah.

'Ready ?'

Hannah shrugs. 'How long am I indentured to you ?'

'Not sure yet. 'Til I tire of you I expect.'

The Princess takes a coil of leather from inside her cloak and unravels it, it is a leash.

'You're going to take me out of here on a leash ?'

'Of, course. I take my responsibilities very seriously. I don't want you running off.'

'So you're not going to unchain me ?'

'No.'

'Clothes ?'

'No.'

'Ok.' Hannah shrugs and lifts her chin to allow Pauline to clip the leash to her collar.

With Hannah leashed Pauline bangs on the cell door to indicate they are ready to leave.

'I thought Ms Chayen was very much against these cosy arrangements. 'Fair justice for all' and all that. Yet when she spoke to me she seemed pretty keen for me to agree. How did you manage to convince her ?'

Pauline smiles and shrugs. 'I have my methods.'

'Care to expand on that ?'

'I think you mean 'Care to expand on that, Mistress ?'.' Pauline pulls the crop from her boot. 'And, no I don't.' A smile plays on her lips as she speaks.

The door opens.

'Come along, Slave.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Pauline leads her naked and cuffed charge down the corridor and out of the court through a back door.