Author's Note: Harmony's favourite heroine once again dons her shiny black jet boots and ridiculously skimpy outfit to deliver her own brand of vigilante justice to Belladonia's capital city.

Just as importantly, all your favourite villainesses are back too.

Anything can happen in the next half hour but, based on her last adventures, it is likely our plucky blonde heroine with her pert body and perfect butt will be involved in some pretty strict bondage, will endure a good dollop of humiliation and end up with very sore nipples.

And then there's a kidnapped princess...

Thanks for the positive feedback to 'The Adventures of Boot Girl'. This is the long-awaited sequel. As always with my stories, I don't think there should be any difficulty understanding it if you haven't read the original.

tpb


CHAPTER 1

BETTY PAGE PARK, HARMONY

Melanie Sweet or 'Melons' as her fellow students at the Madame D'Arcy Finishing School for Young Ladies call her is an Angel; like most Angels she has blonde hair, blue eyes and fine features; her skin is pale and creamy, and, typically, she is tall and slim with long toned legs and, in her case, breasts large enough to ensure her nickname is fully justified. She is new to the city of Harmony though not completely lacking in local knowledge. Most of her fellow students would not, given the choice, walk home from the Mall through Betty Page Park, and certainly not in the late evening. Melons, however, is still in awe of the big city, keen to explore and, like most girls of nineteen, convinced of her own immortality. It is thus unfortunate, though not unexpected, that Melons finds herself alone in one of the city's largest open spaces as dusk falls and somewhat more unfortunate that, as she passes a statue of Harmony's founder, she encounters the 'Moochers', one of the city's gangs.

The Moochers' territory is centred around the park and extends east into the VIIth, one of the poorer districts of the city, the north end of which is sometimes referred to as the 'Old Artist's' to differentiate it for the swanky new galleries that now front the river Teese further west; the VIIth is part of the Devils' home turf while the Goths lay claim to the new waterfront area to the north and the old docks area. As the park is next to the Mall, the Moochers can frequently be seen loitering among the glitzy shops there before being ejected, pilloried by security or, on occasion, driven out by the Doll's, Harmony's newest 'gang', if such a term can be applied to the loose collective of High-born maidens that hang out there between manicures, massages, waxes and expensive lunching.

As with most street gangs the Moochers have colours of a sort, these consist of cropped T-shirts with bare midriffs below, a short tartan skirt and patterned black fishnets; they tend to wear laced work boots and favour bold hair colours, particularly blues and reds. Their leader is Minx.

So it is that Melons Sweet very quickly finds herself surrounded by some twenty girls with what appears to be hostile intent.

''Ello gorgeous.' Minx's line is not original but sets the tone. 'Come to join us ?'

There is much sniggering in response to Minx's comment; Melons appears to claim no uniformity with the gang members utterly contrasting them with her styled blonde ringlets, carefully made up face, manicured nails, and boutique, if not designer, clothes: the white silk blouse stretched over her fantastically proportioned and heavily enhanced breasts, the short blue kilt, fine stockings and shiny black patent leather heels which are Bellanian rather than boots in the Angelisch style.

'Not sure she's our sort.' Punk is Minx's second in command, she has spiked blue hair and wears a black cropped T with a studded black leather collar, her skirts is a black tartan with silver. 'Perhaps she could be our mascot or something.' Punk's speech is a little more refined than the rest of the gang members.

'Yeah,' agrees Minx. 'Wha'd'u think darlin', wanna be our bitch ?'

Melons starts to back away from Minx though cannot go far as she is surrounded; she stumbles but does not fall because hands catch her, lifting her back onto her feet and shoving her back towards Minx.

'Don't run away my luv.' Minx grabs Melons' blouse. 'We're just gettin' to know each other. Cuff 'er, Punk.'

Punk grabs the unfortunate Angel, pulling her hands behind her back and then, unclipping a pair of steel handcuffs from her belt and snaps them on to Melons' wrists while Minx continues to hold on to the Angel's blouse.

Melons does not resist and the gang leader smiles at her. 'Good girl.' As she speaks Minx pulls her hands apart ripping open the front of Melons' blouse; buttons pop and scatter bouncing on the concrete and Melons huge breasts lurch forward barely constrained by the expensive grey silk bra, so gossamer thin that every detail of the Angel's huge, enhanced nipples can be clearly seen. Melons opens her mouth in surprise but doesn't make any protest.

'Cor, look at them.' Minx is clearly impressed and grasps Melon's shoulders, spinning her round and pulling the remains of the girl's ripped blouse down over her cuffed arms. She turns Melons again to show the other half of the group and then reaches round to cup the huge orbs in her hands. Melons struggles, her cuffed hands grabbing at Minx's skirt and catching her between the legs.

'Whoa, steady on, luv.' Minx pulls her hips away. 'There's be plenty of time for that later.' Minx pushes Melons away from her; the girl stumbles forward and is caught by two of the gang. Like Melons' shoes, her bra is Bellanian and thus designed for teasing display rather than bold function and as she is pulled to her feet it loses its unbalanced struggle with the girl's huge breasts and they pop out to swing freely as she is jostled around the group.

Entranced by their new toy, the gang escalate their teasing and, while two other girls hold her, a third lifts Melons' kilt and gives her a slap on the bottom. It doesn't take long for her kilt to be torn away exposing silk knickers that are as diaphanous, expensive and as flirtatious as her bra. A number of the gang voice their approval of the Angel's gorgeous form and its sexy packaging and take the opportunity to slap their victim's bottomin appreciation as she is shoved past them. After little more jostling, Melons has lost one of her sandals forcing her to stumble more as she tries to balance on one stockinged foot. By the time she is back facing Minx, the blonde's knickers have been pulled down and are tangled in her suspender clasps further hampering her movement.

The gang leader grins at the disheveled Angel, taking in her touselled blonde hair and wide blue eyes, her flushed cheeks and the rouged lips, open slightly as the blonde pants with exertion; Minx smiles and reaches out to grab the girl's huge pink nipples.

'So, wha'd'u say, luv. Wanna be our bitch ?' Minx licks her lips lasciviously.

Before Melons can make a reply there is a rush of air and the Moochers look up in surprise to find Boot Girl dropping from the sky. The heroine hovers a little above the group with her arms folded. A flurry of warm air and dust from her jet boots envelopes the gang and their prisoner.

'Hello, Minx.' Harmony's leading heroine likes to make a cool entrance. She hovers around the girls' head height, arms folded across her chest riding easily on her jet boots; though her short blonde hair and neat frame give her a boyish appearance, the tight black PVC one piece hugging her body and deliciously pert bottom leave none in doubt regarding her femininity, nor indeed her allure.

'Fuck off, Boots.' Minx is unimpressed.

'I'm just checking you're ok. Haven't seen you pilloried in the Mall for...what is it ?...three weeks.' She nods at Melons, her lips curling into a smile that might, under some circumstances be considered predatory. 'You haven't introduced me to your new girlfriend. Showing her the ropes are you ?' A tongue stud glitters in Boot Girl's mouth as she speaks.

'Fuck off you flat-chested freak or I'll ram those boots up your arse.'

'You really know how to charm a girl.' Boot Girl's tries to keep her voice level but it carries and edge and she tightens her arms around her chest, forcing herself to suppress the flare of anger sparked by Minx's remarks. 'Sure you're ready to play with the big girls ?'

Minx steps away from Melons. 'I can take you anytime, Boots.'

Boot Girl powers down her jet boots and lowers herself gently to the ground. 'Let's find out shall we.' She adopts a low crouch and beckons Minx towards her, curling the fingers of her leather mitted hand.

They face each other for a few moments and Boot Girl notices Punk circling to her right. 'Better tell your little friends to stay out of the way. Don't want anyone getting hurt.' Boot Girl is back in control. 'Except you of course.'

'Stay back, all of you.' As she speaks Minx springs forward flipping on her hands and launching a drop kick at Boot Girl's head. Boot Girl leans to the side letting her opponent fly past her head.

'You'll have to do better than that.'

As Minx lands she spins low attempting to sweep her opponent but Boot Girl easily avoids the attack. Minx continues to spin and then springs up trying to place herself inside Boot Girl's guard. The two trade blows, short punches and kicks, knee and elbow strikes.

'You've been practicing.' Boot Girl smiles as the impetus of Minx's attack slows. 'My turn.'

Boot Girl drives back with a combination of blows that make Minx parry frantically until she stumbles and Boot Girl pushes her to the floor.

'Footwork, Minx ! Lets you down every time.'

Minx springs to her feet and the two engage again with the same result.

'Give it up Minx. You're not ready for this yet.'

'Fuck you, freak.' Minx leaps to her feet, lunges again and Boot Girl turns rolling her attacker over her hip and dropping her to the ground. Minx coughs but springs back up only to be kicked in the belly, she goes down on one knee gasping and holds up her hand.

Boot Girl smiles and lowers her guard.

Minx springs but Boot Girl is ready, she has fought Minx before and knows her tricks; she catches her opponent and rolls throwing her through the air, in a move that allows the heroine to regain her feet in a single movement.

Minx lands heavily, winded.

'Oh, Minx. I'm disappointed. Is that your best move ?'

Minx struggles to her feet, her T and tights ripped. She coughs blood and sways slightly though takes another step towards her opponent. Punk catches her.

Boot Girl looks round at the Moochers. 'Anyone else want to try ?'

The girls look down and begin to disperse, Punk helping Minx into the darkness.

Boot Girl is left alone with Melons.

'You saved me !' Melons trips unsteadily towards the heroine on her single heel, her breasts jiggling delightfully as she does so. Her Belladonian has the harsh accent of an Angelish speaker.

Boot Girl smiles and looks cooly at the blonde taking in the disheveled hair, the torn blouse tangled around her arms and displaced bra straps leaving her bare breasts so deliciously free, Melons knickers are now tangled around her knees making her totter unsteadily and leaving the neat triangle of her blonde pubic hair clearly displayed.

Despite her state, Melon's regards her saviour with surprisingly calm blue eyes.

'Thanking you for rescuing me. I am hoping you will be letting me be offering you something for your trouble.' She attempts to shake a strand of blonde hair from her face but it falls back; the gesture emphasises her helplessness and makes her breasts sway. 'I am thinking there is not much anyway I can be doing to stop you taking anything you want.'

'I don't want anything.' Boot Girl sweeps a lock of her own short blonde hair off her forehead in a gesture that is habitual.

'I'm Sweet, Melanie Sweet, Melons call my friends.' Melons displays her wares.

Boot Girl smiles. 'So I see.'

The Angel blushes and giggles with delight thrusting her chest out even further.

Boot Girl reaches forward and Melons smiles coquettishly but Boot Girl simply takes hold of the Angel's blouse and pulls the ripped garment together before turning Melons round and freeing her hands.

Melons turns again. 'Are you being absolutely sure there is nothing I can do for you ?' She raises her eyebrows and lets her tongue rest gently on her lower lip.

Boot Girl smiles. 'Absolutely.'

'Oh.' Melons pulls up her knickers and relocates her breasts back into her bra.

'I'd better make sure you get home safely.' Boot Girl takes the role of heroine seriously.

'I am liking that.'

Boot Girl sweeps the blonde off her feet and powers up into the air.

Melons leans against her saviour.

Mutte, I love the big city.


CHATEAU KLAW, LINDEN

Anastasia gives a soft low moan as Lady Simone tightens one of the straps holding her slave in a tight hogtie; the moan is, however, not one of complaint but of arousal; as a conditioned slave, Anastasia is used to prolonged tight bondage, not just used to it, in fact, but intensely aroused by it.

'Enjoying yourself ?' Lady Simone settles back into her comfortable leather armchair and crosses her long legs.

'Yes, Mistress.' Anastasia is flushed and panting both from the exertion of the stringent tie and its consequent arousal.

The slave's arms are sheathed behind her back in a tight leather single sleeve that pins her elbows together and draws her shoulders back, her legs are pulled up behind her over the sheath and her ankles fastened to her elbows by a leather strap that is less than a foot long; the slave's spine is thus curved into a delicious, tense bow.

Anastasia wears a blindfold and her collar, a large ball gag sits around her throat ready for use and her long dark hair is plaited with a leather loop that can be used to increase the intensity of the tie.

Lady Simone's full lips curl into gentle smile.

Lady Simone is typical 'Southern Belle', a Donian, descended from the warrior races of the south, her hair a lighter brown than the slave at her feet and naturally slightly more wavy, her skin darker, cheekbones broader, her face tapering to a small triangular chin; her eyes too are more angular, the outer canthi elevated though the irises are just a dark. In her chambers in Chateau Klaw alone with her slave, she is naked, her body lithe and toned, muscles firm; she is woman worthy of her warrior ancestors.

Here in Linden, capital of Donia, Lady Simone of House Milan is undisputed queen.

'You look fabulous.' Lady Simone leans forward and strokes the side of one of Anastasia's huge breasts; her fingernail raking the edge of the grossly swollen, enhanced nipple.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Anastasia shudders crying out with pleasure. 'Please may I come, Mistress.' Her voice trembles with need.

'Not til I gag you. I don't want the guards running in thinking someone's being murdered.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Anastasia's frustration is unmistakable but as a slave she must obey.

Lady Simone slides from her chair and unbuckles the gag at Anastasia's throat. The slave opens her mouth, eager for her mistress to push the huge rubber ball inside and strap it tightly in place. She is utterly submissive, utterly conditioned to be aroused by bondage and pain and when her mistress ties the thong in her slave's hair to her bound wrists she nearly climaxes through the sheer pleasure of such stringent restraint.

The queen of Donia, La Donna as she likes to be known, then returns her chair, sitting and crossing her long toned legs.

'Very well, Slave. You may come.'

Anastasia gives a small cry of pleasure and then, helpless, blindfolded and gagged, she begins to squirm, enjoying the full pleasure of her bondage. The leather restraints creak as she strains against them but do not yield and her struggles leave her panting heavily around her gag, her skin is beginning to glisten with sweat; by straining hard she is able to rock herself a little and, in doing so, can rub her nipples and her crotch on the stone floor of her mistress' chamber.

Lady Simone watches with amusement as Anastasia enjoys the pleasure of being placed in such stringent bondage, noting the way the slave controls her arousal, letting it build to the point of orgasm but then pausing in her struggles, drawing out the pleasure.

Like any well trained pleasure slave, Anastasia is, if course, performing for her mistress and, as the queen watches, her own body responds to the delicious spectacle so that, like her slave, she moves albeit more subtly in response to her body's needs, aware of her own breathing quickening, the hardening of her nipples and the rush of blood to her loins.

Anastasia manages to abstain from orgasm for nearly ten minutes but then can hold herself back no more; she comes crying, out into her gag and jerking violently in her bonds as she draws every ounce of pleasure she can from a climax that would leave many women exhausted.

Anastasia, though, is a conditioned slave and her body is trained to perform like this. In an hour, she will need further release.

It is almost fifteen minutes later that Anastasia finally lays still, her pleasure beginning to subside, her chest heaving and her breathing loud around the gag.

In her struggles she has moved very close to Lady Simone who now reaches down and removes her slave's gag which comes out in a rush of saliva.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Anastasia can barely speak.

This climax came at least two hours since her previous orgasm and the slave was clearly desperate.

'Time to show me your appreciation.' Lady Simone releases the thong plaited into her slave's hair and the slave flexes her neck gratefully. La Donna then extends a bare foot, the nails a shining azure, the colours of the House of Milan, towards her slave placing it in front of the helpless girl's face.

'Yes, Mistress.' Although she is blindfolded, Anastasia understands her mistress' command and lowers her head, her tongue extended as she quests blindly for her Mistress's foot. When her tongue touches her Mistress' toe she begins to lick it lasciviously with long slow strokes before kissing it with her full sensuous lips.

Lady Simone watches, a smile curling her lips and quietly draws a short crop from its sheath at the side of her chair; she strokes the crop up and down her own thigh before holding it over Anastasia's feet then, with a sudden flick of the wrist she delivers a sharp blow to the soles of her slave's bare feet. Anastasia gives a startled yelp pausing for a moment in her devotions before continuing in her worship.

'Your conditioning is slipping. I can't believe you held on that long.'

'Forgive me, Mistress. It's been nearly six weeks since you last had me conditioned.'

'Remind me to have you delivered to Fetish on her return to from Harmony.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Anastasia knows what a week with Fetish will involve, knows it will involve both pleasure and pain, something to fear yet one that will lead to sublime pleasure that only a conditioned slave can ever know.

'How long have you been my slave now ?'

Anastasia pauses for a moment, her tongue hovering above La Donna's bare foot.

'Thirty four years, Mistress.'

'And you have no desire to be free ?'

'Of course not, Mistress.' Anastasia is clearly shocked by the question. She was once an aristocrat, a northern noblewoman, but that life is long since passed even though at sixty she is is still a young woman in the prime of her life.

'Even when I tie you so cruelly and whip you ?'

'I've always loved being bound, even before I became a slave and with my conditioning it is often difficult to tell the difference between pleasure and pain.'

'Good.' La Donna delivers another blow to the helpless girl's bare feet and the slave redoubles her efforts, tongue caressing her queen's foot.

The queen slides one hand between her legs as she strokes the whip over the slave's bare feet.

'Do you want to come again ?' The queen's own arousal gives her voice an edge that is not missed by the helpless slave

'Yes, Mistress, if it pleases you.' Anastasia knows what she is expected to do.

'I require a little pleasure myself first.' La Donna slides from her chair into the floor spreading her legs and guides her slave's mouth towards her wet pussy.


TEESE RIVER, HARMONY

'What is this city coming to ?' Fetish is driving a stolen mag-van across the Medici Bridge. 'There was a time when you broke the law and had the police on your arse immediately.'

Lash grins from the passenger seat. 'Always there when you don't want one.'

Fetish puts her foot down and the impulse engine whirrs, accelerating the vehicle slowly but steadily. A speed warning flashes as she pulls out into the fast lane.

'Maybe we'll attract some attention this time.' She checks her mirror. 'Finally.'

She can see the police bike a quarter of a mile behind and watches as the blue pursuit lights start to flash.

Fetish watches as the trooper gains on them ensuring she remains above the speed limit. The bike passes them on the inside and the 'Pull Over' light comes one.

Fetish pulls onto the hard shoulder but ensures she stops so the front wing of the van protrudes into the nearside lane. Ahead of her the trooper grounds her bike and slips from the saddle. She wears a brown leather jacket that stretches over her small breasts, emphasises the slenderness of her waist; the ultra tight leather breeches tucked into the top of knee boots seem to emphasise the sex.

Fetish smiles. 'Gaia, I love uniforms.'

The trooper removes her helmet revealing a pretty face, with wide cheekbones and large, slightly angular dark eyes suggesting a Donian ancestry. Her long hair is, however, the shiny dark gloss of a Bellanian though it is almost curly, lush ringlets springing to frame her triangular face.

'Wonder if she's a real brunette.' Fetish's gaze follows the trooper intensely.

'I guess we'll know soon enough.' Lash is watching her too.

The trooper looks at the position of the vehicle and frowns.

'Cute.'

'Fetish, we're not here so you can pull.' Lash is wise to Fetish's wiles.

'I know but a cute smile and fit body would be a bonus.'

'I thought you liked them a little more buxom...'

Their conversation is interrupted as the trooper steps up to the passenger window glaring suspiciously at Lash who lowers the window.

Fetish leans across. 'Is there a problem officer ?'

'Driver's license, Madam.'

Fetish pulls something from the door compartment beside her and leans across in front of Lash.

'Was I speeding officer ?' For a villianess, in full costume, in this case a black latex mini dress, Fetish's play of innocence is remarkable.

That the young trooper doesn't immediately call for back up is remarkable too but then, it is only a traffic offense...

The trooper shows a pained expression and reaches in to take the license. As she does so, Lash strikes grasping the brunette's gloved hand and pulling up her sleeve with a tazer glove which she squeezes onto the exposed flesh. The girl struggles for a moment then slumps, her weight supported by Lash who holds her arm. At the next break in traffic Fetish climbs out of the driver's door and walks round the back of the van. She opens the near side door of the rear compartment and, hidden from the traffic by the body of the van, drags the unconscious trooper inside dropping her on the cold steel floor. She then unzips the girl's jacket and pulls it off her body; the combat vest is next and then the boots and leather breeches.

'Nice lingerie !' Fetish takes in the pink lacy bra and briefs. 'Do you think she has a romantic side.'

'Sub.' Lash opines.

'You think so ?'

'All tough on the outside and pink knickers underneath. The pink lip gloss is a dead giveaway. She's a classic sub.' Lash's voice is lilting, softly accented.

'Lash, I'm shocked. I didn't think you noticed things like that.'

'Observation is a key skill for a warrior, Fetish. You would do well to remember it.'

Fetish shakes her head at her partner's pedantry as she peels off her latex dress to reveal the dragon tattoo that coils around her body and the multiple piercings of her breasts, navel and clit; Fetish does not wear underwear; she starts to don the trooper's uniform. Lash pulls out a set of cable ties and begins to restrain the unconscious trooper.


EAST SIDE, HARMONY

Pauline de Renee jumps as the trooper bangs on the roof of the car and indicates the next exit then pulls in front of the car activating her 'FOLLOW ME !' sign.

'Shit. What did I do wrong ?' Pauline can feel her heart suddenly racing.

'I told you to let me drive.' Adele sighs heavily as she speaks.

'Yeah, like you're so perfect. I wasn't going too fast.' Reluctantly Pauline steers the hovercar down the exit into the streets below; this is the East Side, very different from grand old buildings of the West Side they have just left via the Tunnel. They are on the way for a dress fitting for Pauline at Ouestbois', an exclusive boutique near the mall.

Shaken, Pauline follows the trooper down a narrow street with small shopfronts and turns into an empty lot between two crumbling buildings: a strip club and a bar. The litter strewn space is unpaved and dust swirls blown up by the hovercar's engines; it is deserted except for a sleek flyer that appears completely out of place in these surroundings. The trooper settle her bike and dismounts turning towards the car as Pauline switches off the hover drive and the vehicle settles gently to the ground.

'I don't like this.' Adele's voice betrays her anxiety. 'Stay in the car.' She opens her door and climbs out. 'Officer ! This is highly irregular.'

The trooper turns her head to look at Adele, and sunlight glints off the visor of her helmet that hides her face.

'Please return to your vehicle. Madam.'

Adele continues around the front of the car reaching inside her tunic for her ID card. 'Look, I really need...' Before she can get any further the trooper draws her tazer in a smooth, well-practiced motion, levels the weapon and fires. Adele tries to evade the shot but is caught in the chest; dropping to the ground she convulses and lies still.

Shocked by the turn of events, Pauline releases the door of the car and climbs out.

'Hey. Stop that, she was only trying to show you her ID card.'

'Stay where you are.' The trooper turns to point her weapon at Pauline who stops, raising her hands.

'Gonna shoot me too ?'

Not the smartest thing to say, perhaps a little more respect for the lady with the gun.

'Stay where you are.' The trooper's voice is calm; it is also...familiar.

'You have no idea how much trouble you're in.' Pauline tries to think what Adele would do.

Not good either, Pauline, you're not playing Cat Girl now.

'Shut up !' The trooper reaches to her belt and takes off her cuffs. She tosses them to Pauline keeping the tazer level. 'Cuff her.'

Pauline catches the cuffs. 'You don't need to do that. Let me show you my ID.'

'I don't care who you are. Do as I say or I'll stun you too.'

I really do need to speak to mum about the behaviour of her troopers.

'Ok, but you're making a big mistake.' Pauline masters her anger and moves carefully towards Adele who lies motionless in the dust.

'Hands behind her back.'

Bondage freak too...

Pauline checks Adele's breathing, relieved to find it deep and regular and then obeys, rolling the unconscious woman onto her front and pulling her arms behind her before ratcheting the cuffs closed. When she has finished she remains crouching beside her guardian's unconscious from.

'Now her ankles.' The trooper tosses a second pair of cuffs.

'That's a little overzealous don't you think ?' Pauline glares angrily at the trooper.

'Shut up and do it.'

'You really need to work on your people skills.'

Why don't you just ask her to tazer you and get it over with ?

'Cuff her or I'll tazer you and do it myself.'

Pauline snaps the cuffs round Adele's ankles.

'Now, stand up.'

Again Pauline obeys. 'Look. You really should let me show you some ID. Do you have any idea who I am ? You're gonna be in trouble when you find out who you've just shot.'

The trooper unbuckles her helmet. 'Oh, I know exactly who you are and it's really not me who's in trouble.' She lifts off the helmet with her free hand to reveal a thin face with multiple piercings through the pale olive skin.

'What the...?' Pauline frowns. 'You're...' She has fought the woman before, though not as Pauline de Renee, Princess of Harmony.

Fetish, then Lash must be...

Pauline is aware of another figure approaching her from behind. She glances round to see the petite villainess moving with her customary grace and stealth; the woman's body and limbs are wrapped in strips of leather; her blonde hair hangs in dreadlocks and, as usual she is barefoot; her expression is focussed, a hunter stalking her prey. Pauline notes Lash is carrying several cable ties.

'God, I just love wearing uniforms.' Fetish grins at Lash.

'It looks great on you Fetish.' Lash's eyes never leave her target. 'Hands behind your back, Princess.'

Pauline reacts in the only way she can, driving a mule kick at Lash aimed to disable her stalker long enough to run behind the car and hoping Fetish in her trooper's uniform will not react quickly enough to tazer her. The princess is trained and quick but Lash is faster and far more skilled, avoiding the kick and catching Pauline's leg then sweeping her to the ground. Pauline tries to roll but Lash has a firm grip on her and the princess finds herself pinned to the ground face down with Lash's weight in the centre of her back. Lash grabs the brunette's left wrist and Pauline feels a cable tie being wrapped around. Pauline struggles and succeeds in turning slightly, enough the catch Lash with her right elbow and unseat her, Pauline rolls over and springs to her feet but Lash is there first and Pauline turns to find her in fighting crouch barring her way. Lash nods and smiles, enjoying the fight or perhaps, toying with her prey; she acknowledges her opponent's skill with a nod or, perhaps the princess' ability to take advantage of her carelessness, then the villainess attacks.

Lash's attack is so fast that Pauline barely has time to react, she raises her guard to defend her face and Lash ducks below it hitting her in the belly with a shoulder. The blow is enough to knock Pauline off her feet and Lash is, again, on top of her, shin across her throat this time as she gathers Pauline's legs whipping a cable tie around the struggling girl's knees and cinching it closed. As Lash shifts her weight Pauline manages to wriggle free but with her legs bound together she succeeds only in getting her knees beneath her before Lash is straddling her back pulling her arms away from beneath her and rolling with her. They finish with Pauline on her right side and Lash behind her holding her left arm, her right is pinned beneath her body.

Suddenly there is a rush of air and flurry of dust, Pauline sees a figure descend and recognises Boot Girl.

Bit late if you don't mind me saying.

Pauline tries to take advantage of the new arrival arching forward and struggling to pull her left arm free of Lash's grip but her opponent is too strong and, as her muscles strain, Pauline suddenly feels something give in her chest; looking down she is relieved to see it is only the fastening of her bustier.

A tazer discharges and Pauline looks up to see Boot Girl dive and roll.

'Fetish, you're so unsporting.' The pert blonde is back on her feet a cute smile curling her luscious lips.

Fetish fires again and Boot Girl backflips clear, pausing as she lands to flick that stand of blonde hair from her eyes.

She is wicked.

Pauline so is busy admiring Boot Girl's tricks that Lash manages to pull the princess' arms behind her and get a cable tie on her wrists, a second swiftly follows around her elbows.

'Hey !' Pauline yells at her assailant and, again, begins to struggle violently, a manoeuvre that puts further strain on her damaged bustier which finally splits open and her large breasts pop out.

Boot Girl looks down when she hears the brunette cry out taking in the sight of Pauline's flagrantly displayed breasts and then looking at her face. She winks reassuringly and despite her predicament Pauline grins back at her; it is at that moment that Boot Girl recognises the struggling girl. Surprise registers in her face for an instant and then she ducks to the left as Fetish fires again. However, the distraction is enough and the tazer blast catches the tip of the heroine's right shoulder.

Boot Girl spins from the impact landing heavily in front of the captive princess.

'Shit.' Pauline struggles violently but can do nothing as Lash secures her ankles and then hoods her.

Fetish crosses to the fallen heroine holstering the tazer.

'Quite a haul.'

As she speaks a siren echos along the street and a real city trooper appears astride a hoverbike. The trooper turns into the empty lot, her visored face sweeping as she takes in the scene, Fetish in a trooper uniform standing over the body of Boot Girl, Lash lifting an unconscious, restrained captive; the newly arrived trooper does what she is trained to do; she calls for backup.

Taking advantage of the situation, Fetish draws her tazer again and fires but the shot is wide, though it is enough to make the trooper pull back.

'Let's get out of here.' Lash hefts Pauline onto her shoulder and starts to run towards the flyer.

Fetish bends to pick up Boot Girl.

'Leave her.' Lash shouts angrily. 'You've got the other one to play with.'

Fetish frowns but thinks about the owner of the uniform she currently wears who is hooded, restrained and gagged in the hold of the flyer.

Lash opens the door of the flyer and throws Pauline in, climbing up behind her and jumping into the pilot's seat. Fetish follows her in, firing again at the trooper who has drawn her own weapon and is creeping cautiously forward.

'Hang on.' Lash starts the engines and launches into an emergency climb at full power. Fetish grabs the back of the seat and tries not to vomit at the forces of physics interact with her biology.

'Fuck. Do you have to do that.'

Lash grins. 'Half the city troopers will be below us in two minutes. And do you want to be here when they discover we've just kidnapped Contesse de Renee's daughter ?' There is an excitement in Lash's voice. 'Ready ?'

'As I'll ever be.' Fetish reaches down with her free hand and grabs the belt of Pauline's leather trousers.

Lash fires the impulse engine and the flyer streaks between two warehouses banking sharply and throwing Fetish and the helpless Pauline from one side of the cabin to the other.

As Lash levels out the flight, keeping as low to the roofs of the buildings as she can, Fetish opens a compartment in the floor of the cabin. Inside is the slim athletic body of the police trooper still wearing the pink bra and knickers; she is hooded and held in a restraint that consists of a collar to which is attached a pole that runs down her back and legs connecting with her ankle cuffs; the girls arms are restrained behind her and strapped to the pole by cuffs around her upper arms and wrists; she is prevented from moving by straps attached to the pole that encircle waist and thighs. The pole itself is chained to the sides of the hold.

Fetish grins and reaches in to fondle one of the captive girl's breasts. The helpless girl squirms but can to nothing to protect herself. Fetish slips her hand inside the bra and cups the breast enjoying the feel of the nipple against the palm of her hand.

'This one's got far better tits than Boot Girl though I do quite fancy a blonde.' Fetish grins and looks at the Princess Pauline's breasts where they have escaped from her bustier.

'Fetish can we get on with this. We've just kidnapped Lady de Renee's daughter, half the Harmony's troopers are about to be on our tail and you're indulging in your penchant for perving. Get the Princess stowed while I pilot us out of the city then we'll stop and restrain her properly.'

Boot Girl tries to rise but the right side of her body won't do as she wants it to. She is aware of the trooper approaching with her tazer drawn.

Shit. This is bad.

The trooper stands in front of her, tall leather-clad and athletic.

Hey gorgeous. Shit, I must look really bad.

'Boot Girl.'

'You got me, it's a fair cop !' The right side of Boot Girl's mouth isn't working properly and her words are slurred, she thinks she might be drooling. 'Put the cuffs on me.' She tries to hold out both hands but only the left responds. 'I'll come quietly.'

The trooper lifts her visor and deep brown eyes gaze at the stunned heroine. The woman's cheeks are squashed by the sides of the helmet but her face is clearly very pretty though her mouth is, perhaps, a little too large.

'Are you ok ?' The trooper crouches beside her.

'Pep.'

'You remember me, I'm flattered.' The trooper's smile is impossibly wide.

'Never forget a face.' Boot Girl slurs. 'Or...' Boot Girl's eyes take in the swell of the trooper's breasts and then drop to her sex where it it outlined by the ultratight breeches.

'You haven't called me though.' Detective Pepper pouts. 'I should run you in for that alone. You're a very bad girl.'

'Spank me !' Boot Girl smiles lopsidedly.

'Really ?' The detective's brown eyes flash with pleasure.

'What ?' Boot Girl struggles to rise. 'No, yes... Look, Pep. I've been kind of busy. You know how it is. Being a heroine...saving people...'

'So I see.' The trooper pouts and she toys with her cuffs. At that moment her radio announces the impending arrival of her backup. 'You have to go. The backup will be here soon. You'll be arrested.'

'You're not going to do run me in ?'

'Not me.' The trooper's smile is dazzling, white teeth flashing and brown eyes sparkling. 'Though perhaps you could take me hostage as you make your escape. Take me your hideout, tie me up, you know, take advantage of me...' Her eyebrows arch suggestively.

'Thanks.' Boot Girl's right side is beginning to obey her again, and to throb painfully. She stuggles to her knees. 'I owe you.'

'Oh, you do.' Pep smiles again. 'Lots !'

'I'll call you.' Boot Girl stands awkwardly and then breaks into what is more an uneven lope than a run, then she kicks her boots and powers into the air.


ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

'You were supposed to be guarding her !'

'I'm sorry, Mistress.'

Contesse de Renee takes a fistful of blonde hair and lifts her helpless Adele's head. The blonde's face is a picture of misery, tear-streaked, her eyes puffy. Adele is bent over a punishment frame, legs spread, thighs pressed against one of the frame's bars, a steel collar chained to the floor keeping her in position. Steel cuffs around her ankles hold her legs wide apart and others about her wrists stretch her arms wide above her shoulders. She is naked.

It is two hours after the incident in the East Side when Adele failed her Mistress and her charge. Though she was freed by the City troopers who intervened; both of whom instantly recognised the Contesse's lover, slave and advisor, this freedom was, short-lived as, on her return to the palace, Lady de Renee's wrath was quick and brutal. Harmony's ruler took Adele by the hair and dragged her to the punishment room. Though physically stronger Adele put up no resistance as the Contesse secured her to the frame unaided.

Bruises over Adele's back, buttocks and the back of her thighs attest to the force of beating she has received though in Adele's mind the punishment has not been nearly severe enough. She knows her breasts will suffer next and, in part, longs for it.

Adele looks up at the Contesse piteously. 'I'm sorry.' She repeats.

Her Mistress's eyes are misty with tears too, despite the obvious anger, and Adele knows not all are being shed for her daughter.

The Contesse turns away, and Adele watches her go, longing to hold her, to comfort her but knowing that she can also serve as a target for her mistress' wrath and, in doing so, can to some extent purge her guilt.

'Hood and gag her.' The contesse picks up a heavy leather hood and tosses it to the palace guard positioned discretely and very uncomfortably in the corner of the room.

'Yes, Mistress.' The guard hurries forward and pulls the hood over Adele's head, lacing it tightly in place then she pushes a large leather gag into the helpless woman's mouth and buckles it in place.

Adele is head of security in the palace and having the guard restrain and gag her is a deep humiliation.

'Leave us.'

The guard bows and leaves with undisguised haste.

'The troopers apparently saw as little as you. Which means while they look for leads I have nothing better to do than hang around waiting for news and amusing myself by punishing you.'

Contesse de Renee picks up the long stiff discipline whip that she typically reserves for Adele's breasts and begins to adjust the frame so she can use it freely.


HANNAH PINK'S APARTMENT, EAST SIDE, HARMONY

Boot Girl slips through the open window into her flat. She has laid low for several hours and then taken even more care than usual to make sure she wasn't followed. She has climbed the fire escape's twenty nine floors rather than risking her usual approach of flying in despite the darkness.

'Shit, shit, shit...'

Master greets her almost immediately rubbing himself against her ankles and voicing his dismay at her late arrival with a series of loud meows. The heroine bends and picks him up holding him close and tickling his neck, his presence calming her frayed nerves.

'Oh, Master, you've no idea how much trouble I'm in.'

Unperturbed by his mistress' distress, Master purrs contentedly as she carries him through to the kitchen and puts him on the worksurface before retrieving a sachet of food. As she empties it into his bowl he nuzzles her hand but then, with no further use for her, lifts his tail and bends down to eat.

'You're a fucking idiot, Hannah Pink ! You've got to learn to stay out of stuff that's way beyond your league.'

She fills a mug with water and gulps down its contents coughing and spluttering as she does so. Then she catches sight of the clock.

'Fuck !'

Dropping the cup in the sink she runs through the kitchen door peeling off the flimsy strands of her PVC blouson before stepping out of the tight shorts as she enters the bathroom. She then unzips her thigh boots and stumbles into the shower.

Even a heroine has responsibilities.

Four and a half minutes later she is running down the stairs with wet hair in a short silver PVC dress with split sides, matching knickers and heels.


LINDEN, DONIA

Pauline is pushed to her knees.

She has no idea how long she had been in the flyer nor where she is. They landed briefly somewhere, presumably beyond the city walls, where she was stripped, hooded and then tightly restrained.

The hood is a pump up model with integral gag that is also inflatable a perfect way to silence and subjugate an unruly slave; her arms are sheathed behind her, strapped tightly, elbows touching and her legs restrained in an ankle binder; for most of the journey she has been strapped to a slave transport pole.

Her captivity has brought to her mind visions of Madam Bondage and her slave and her own experiences at the hands of the powerful northern aristocrat; it has also reminded Pauline of her response to Minx's victory over her when the fought in the Mall. Strangely she doesn't feel as much fear at the thought of being kidnapped as she thinks she should.

Beyond the world of the hood, there is some sort of negotiation taking place.

'Are you sure that's her ?'

'Of, course, Madam.'

'She's certainly got the tits for it.' Fingers grasp Pauline's left nipple. 'I'm really going to enjoy playing with these.' The fingers pinch and Pauline takes that as a cue to struggle. Almost immediately a crop strikes her across the breasts.

'Keep still, slave !'

Pauline stop struggling.

'You have done well.'

'Thank you, Madam.' Fetish's voice is obsequious.

There are a few moments of silence and Pauline kneels silent, her heart pounding.

'Send her to Boot Camp. I want her broken and fully trained in three months.'

'Yes, Madam. Which discipline.'

'All three.'

Arms lift her and Pauline is dragged away.


ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

'And it's taken you a week to find this information ?' Adele's face is flushed, her blue eyes blazing.

'Yes.' The Police Lieutenant shifts uncomfortably on her boot heals. 'The trooper who saw her is...er, was,...a sympathiser. It took her a while to come forward.'

'I assume the matter has been properly dealt with.' Adele has endured three days of her Mistress' fury; long hours in punishment bondage, a series of whippings, canings and beatings and some merciless breast torture. Though cathartic her whole body still aches four days later; her buttocks, breasts and especially her nipples remain exquisitely sensitive. She can't help feeling that an earlier result might just have shortened her ordeal and given her Mistress something else to think about rather than torturing her totally contrite slave.

'Yes, she...er, the matter... has been fully dealt with.' The Lieutenant smiles thinking of Trooper Pepper currently naked and strapped to her bed enjoying a brief respite from the punishments she had been administering. 'She's a good girl. She just needs a firm hand.'

Adele nods, accepting the subtext of the conversation. Though her own punishment has been extreme even by her mistress' standards, the inevitable need to console the bereft Contesse eventually became more urgent. The four days of lovemaking has been at least as intense as the discipline that preceded it. It is this, and the promise of more of the same, that prevents Adele from ordering the lithe brunette in front of her stripped from the ultra-tight leather of her dress 'overalls' and tightly restrained for some intimate questioning later.

'Do you want me to bring Boot Girl in ?'

'No, but give me five of your best troopers...without Heroine sympathies ! This is something I want to do myself.'


CHAPTER 2

SLAVE CAMP, CHATEAU KLAW, LINDEN, DONIA

Pauline crawls out of her cage and lifts her shoulders enough to stretch her stiff back though she is careful to keep her head and eyes down. Since the start of Boot Camp she has spent each night confined kneeling in a tiny steel cage, arms strapped behind her in a monoglove style arm sheath that keeps her completely helpless, forearms and elbows pressed together, shoulders pulled back. Overnight the tip of the glove is locked to the back door of her cage as are her ankles; two short chains from her collar are padlocked to the front door of the cage. None of these are strictly necessary as the locked doors and bars of the steel cage are easily enough to hold her. Each cage has two doors because, even if she is not restrained there is no room to turn round, she crawls into one door in the evening and out of the other in the morning.

Clear of the cage she kneels with her head down, grateful to be allowed to straighten her back and longing to extend her legs but wary about the attention and subsequent punishment that might draw from her overseers. A bowl of food is placed in front of her by a chained slave girl and another of water then one of the overseers removes her gag, a solid wooden ball covered in a thin layer of leather. She wants the water more than she wants the food, wants it even more than she wants to stretch her cramped legs, but fully aware now of the rules of the camp she kneels submissively awaiting permission to eat and drink. Another girl, a slim brunette, bends over her water the instant her gag is removed and is pulled up by the overseers, a dozen lashes delivered to her bare breasts by one as the other holds her head back by her dark hair. As she cries out her gag is replaced and she is dragged to the assembly area where the chain from her cuffed ankles is fastened to her arm sheath hogtying her and her collar is chained to a hitching post. Around Pauline some of the girls exchange anxious glances. Several lick dry lips with parched tongues.

The courtyard is dusty, becoming hot in the daytime under the Donian sun and their training regime is harsh; though it is cool at night and dew sometimes settles in the morning this does little to slake the thirst of a gagged slave

Eventually the command is given and, almost as one the captive girls bend forward to lap at their water bowls before forcing themselves to eat the slave porridge.

After breaking their fast the girls are ordered to the assembly area, a square of sand that in the courtyard of the castle in which they are being held. Quietly they rise as commanded and walk to their places on stiff legs. The girl who has tried to drink her water too soon is released though left gagged and ordered to stand with the others.

The order of the muster is simple; those who had been in the camp longest stand at the front, the newest 'recruits' at the back; then Lash, who appears to be the chief overseer, checks the girls over. As always the small, lithe, dreadlocked blonde is dressed from head to foot in a garment that looks as if it had been plaited from whips and leather thongs. She carries a coiled whip which Pauline had seen and felt used with devastating accuracy. She is, as always, accompanied by a slave scribe, a pretty girl with green eyes and light brown waist-length hair; the girl has large breasts that are clearly augmented and is clad only in the briefest of loincloths and sandals; her ankles and wrists are always chained together allowing her some room to move and a chain from her collar runs down via her wrist chain to her ankles; as always she is gagged with a gold ring gag. She carries a tablet on which she enters information about the slaves as directed by Lash.

The process is simple: after a few days a girl's collar weights are increased, over the next week her ankle weights are increased too; then nipple clamps followed by nipple weights are added and gradually increased; girls who stays longer can expect to run gagged, with clit weights, butt plugs and heavy ankle chains to torment them. Eventually, Pauline assumes, a girl will reach point where slavery seems a preferable option though she has not yet seen how this decision is made.

The overseer and her scribe stop in front of Pauline.

'Double her ankle weights.'

Pauline forces herself not to react. It is the third day in a row that this had happened. She is in good shape and, while the training is hard, she has, until now, been coping better than many of the girls around her; more ankle weights though will push her beyond her limits. An overseer unlocks her ankle cuffs and replaced them with heavier ones. The weights are padded and fit firmly; Pauline has worn similar ones many times before, particularly during the later stages of pony training, though none as heavy as this.

'Nipple clamps too.'

Pauline grits her teeth; she knows there is no point in arguing and that, by showing any resistance, she will end up with a punishment and, probably more encumbrance.

A pair of clover clamps are attached to her nipples and the overseer moves on.

Ten minutes later they are running.


ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

Boot Girl is hanging by her wrists and she is naked. Adele and her troopers have taken her by surprise in her bed a little before noon. The first she knew of it was the splintering of wood as her aging front door exploded open followed almost instantly by the shattering of glass as her bedroom window gave way to a police trooper's boot. She was overpowered in seconds, before, even she had the opportunity to cut her feet on the shattered glass strewn over the floor; hands pulled her arms behind her then her wrists and elbows were cuffed as her legs were strapped tightly together before she was hooded and gagged.

Now she faces Adele, Contesse de Renee's lover, chief of staff and, it now appears, senior interrogator and probably torturer too. She is strapped to a punishment frame, heavy leather cuffs securing her wrists above her head and supporting most of her weight, while her ankles, similarly restrained are held wide apart. A large leather covered ball gag fills her mouth.

Adele unbuckles the gag and eases it from her prisoner's mouth.

'Someone's been a very naughty girl !' Adele's fury is tempered by the knowledge of her power over the captured heroine.

'Spank me !' Boot Girl's response is spunky if ill advised.

'Oh, I intend to go much further than that. Believe me you really won't enjoy it.'

'Maybe I'm the submissive type. Bit like you Sis.'

Adele raises a knowing eyebrow. 'We're about to find out.' She turns away and walks towards an impressive array of whips, crops, canes, tawses, clamps and other instruments of torture arrayed in the wall of the punishment room. Boot Girl notices that Adele is moving stiffly and then realises the older woman is wearing a cat suit rather than her usual bustier and shorts.

'Am I guessing I'm not the only one who's been called in for questioning over this ? Did Her Ladyship give you a bit of a hard time for losing her only daughter.'

Adele stiffens. 'You are very perceptive Little One.' She takes down a tazer and discharges it more for effect than to test the charge. Boot Girl watches the spark crackle loudly between the electrodes.

'My first question is do I start with the left nipple or the right one. So, Sis, what's your answer ?'

Boot Girl turns pale.


SLAVE CAMP, CHATEAU KLAW, LINDEN, DONIA

Pauline has only completed the two hour training run with liberal encouragement from the whips of the overseers. During the run she has earned herself a gag and an evening punishment too. As she jogs back into the sandy courtyard exhausted after the long climb to the castle she is breathing heavily around the wooden gag, her chest heaving; her calves and thighs burning and her nipples throbbing painfully. For the first time she is a good distance behind the leading girls who are already slaking their thirst at the water trough as she arrives. With the gag in her mouth all she can do was to watch enviously knowing that she will barely be able to take any water when her turn comes before being forced on to the next stage of the day's training.

The girls' arm sheaths are removed only for about two hours a day when Pauline and her fellow 'potential' slave girls are made to exercise their upper bodies. This typically occurs after the morning run and, as the last girl staggers into the courtyard, being driven hard by two of the overseers Pauline knows she will soon have some relief for her aching shoulders. During this time of relative freedom ankle chains are used and the girls are chained to rings in the ground by their collars to prevent any attempt at escape. To strengthen their arms and shoulders their hands are locked in heavy steel balls which, like their ankle weights, are increased as they progress in their training; the relief of having their arms free is thus shortlived as their muscles soon start to burn through the heavy exertion. Today Pauline stays gagged for this part of the training and no attempt is made to remove her nipple clamps. With her hands locked in the steel balls there was nothing she could do so she focusses on her training trying to ignore her thirst and the continuous dull throbbing in her nipples.

After the upper body training the slaves' ankle chains are removed and they are put through a stretching routine before being, once again, restrained in their arm sheaths and fed. As with breakfast they take their lunch kneeling and restrained, eating and drinking directly from bowls which they were forced to bend over. The southern sun is hot at midday and the courtyard gives little shade though their feed bowls were usually placed under one of the small trees. Today though, Pauline and another girl, are left chained to their rings in the sun. Still gagged, Pauline can only look at the food in front of her though with effort she is able to take a small amount of water.

The other girl looks vaguely familiar to Pauline though she can't quite place her face, grimy and sweat streaked as it is; she clearly of Bellanian country stock, blonde and buxom, though her movements are more refined albeit that currently she is bent over her feeding bowl eating hungrily. Pauline guesses she must have been there some time; she is deeply tanned and is leaner than many country girls though not lithe. Each day since Pauline's arrival the girl has run with nipple weights swinging from her large breasts and leg weights heavier than those Pauline currently wears. Despite these encumbrances she has usually finished among the first of the girls when running and shown less signs of tiring than many of the others. She was being punished when Pauline had first arrived, straddling a wooden bar with her ankles chained widely apart and pulled behind her, nipples clamped and stretched forward, head strapped into pony harness and drawn back, arms, as always, sheathed. Today, the blonde has finished the run well down the field perhaps due to the spiked breast cuffs and clit weight she wears today. The backs of her legs, her buttocks and her shoulders are liberally covered with fresh whip marks that overlie other older ones. Pauline is not sure why the girl is being singled out until after the girls have finished eating when Pauline looks up to find Lash standing over her.

'Well, girl, do you have something to say ?'

The blonde throws herself forward onto her belly, causing Pauline to wince as she watches the girl land on her cuffed breasts and clamped nipples.

'Please Mistress, I beg to be a made a slave.'

So that's how it's done. Pauline saves the information, wondering if now would be the right time to try to escape the boot camp too.

Better not, I'll probably just be punished.

The blonde's neck chain is unlocked from the ring and a leather clad overseer leads her from the courtyard. Pauline is left chained and kneeling on her own, arms sheathed behind her back and gagged with weights still swinging from her clamped nipples.


INTERROGATION ROOM, ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

'So, Little One. Is there anything else you wish to tell me ?'

'I mithed you.' Boot Girl's words are slurred by the truth drug Adele has given her. She turns her head as far as her bonds will allow but cannot see her interrogator.

'I meant about the princess.' Adele cradles the naked captive in her arms. Boot Girl is tightly restrained in metal bands that her captress has ratcheted tighter as todays interrogation has progressed; the heroine's arms are bent at the elbow, her wrists cuffed to her upper arms while a chain held in the folds of her elbows pins them together behind her back; her ankles are cuffed to her thighs and a bar between her knees spreads her legs widely, there are tight bands around her chest and waist and even her throat, though this is at present not enough to choke her it does leave her light-headed; another band is tightened around her forehead and temples and chains from this to her steel belt pull her head back sharply and prevent her turning it.

'Oh, yes, the printheth.' Hannah smiles and licks her dry lips, swallowing with difficulty. 'I'll tell you about her. She's hot, I mean really hot and she makes this little noise when she comes, it's really cute. She made me her slave after we...were naughty together...' Boot Girl giggles. 'I quite liked being her slave y'know...'

'Yes, darling, we've covered that.' Adele's voice is patient and she strokes a finger down Hannah's chest. The heroine's skin carries the marks of several days' interrogation, her body is covered in bruises particularly her buttocks back and legs, her nipples are swollen and dark with bruising from the use of clamps and Adele's tazer.

The tazer applied to her tongue stud has been particularly effective.

'And the printheth has a secret too. She's a heroine, like me... Sneaks out she does.'

Adele frowns. 'About her disappearance.'

'Oh, yeah. They took her. It was Lath and that Fetith. I tried to thtop 'em but they tathered me.'

'Yes, that was very unfair. Do you know where they took her ?'

'Wait a minute ! You tathered me too ! And you whipped me...and what d'you call those things you put on my nibbles ?'

'Clamps ?'

'Yeah, clams. You tathered me and whipped me and put clams on my nibbles.' Hannah laughs and begins to cough, retching and almost choking in her bonds.

Adele waits for the spasm to subside and then for her sister to recover her breath.

'Do you want me to get her back ?' Boot Girl smiles up at her torturer.

'And how will you do that ?'

'I could follow them. I'm a heroine you know. Boot Girl, thath's me. You didn't know thath did you ?'

'No, Hannah, I didn't.' Adele rolls her eyes.

'I could hunt 'em down, Lath and Fetith and that Donna woman.'

'La Donna ?'

'Yeth. Two houthes...anthient feud... She'th not nith, not nith at all. I could hunt 'er down and rethcue the printhess.'

'And then you could live happily ever after as the princess' slave ?'

'Yeah, summin' like that. Only if I rethcued her she might want to be my thlave and I'm not really the dominant type. Everyone finks I'm dominant 'cauthe I'm a heroine, but I'm not see, I'm quite thubmithive. P'rhaps I could rethcue the printhess and then she'd make me her slave again.'

'Touching.' Adele eases the helpless girl to the floor and stands.


BLUE OFFICE, ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

'She wasn't involved.'

'You've been very thorough.' The contesse frowns. 'Five days.'

'It's easy when they know. It's making sure they don't that's the true art of interrogation.'

Adele and the Contessa are in the Blue Office of Harmony's Royal Palace.

'So that leaves us where exactly ?' Lady de Renee pulls the crop she is holding tight against her leather-clad bottom. The contesse wears leather breeches and boots and a bustiere the lifts her heavy cleavage.

'Lash and Fetish work for La Donna and La Donna has got to be Lady Simone so the only place they will have taken her is to Linden, Chateau Klaw.'

'We knew that a week ago.' The contesse's voice is edged with frustration and fear for her daughter.

'We've been exploring diplomatic channels.'

'I want her back, Adele. Even if I have to declare war, I want her back.'

'It won't come to that, my Lady.'

'It will if it has to.'

'Think what you are saying, my Lady.'

'I rule here.' Anger flare's in Lady de Renee's voice.

'And I advise you !'

'I'll have you punished.' She lifts the whip threateningly.

'You've already punished me.' Adele's body still aches from her punishments but the pain is nothing compared to her self-loathing. She has taken to wearing a rough woolen dress as penitence for her lapse.

'I've punished you for her loss, but I've got a whole new reason to do it if you can't get her back.'

'My Lady, please. Be reasonable. We must seek a less confrontational solution.' Adele eyes the whip with a mix of desire and fear.

'Please, Lady Simone, can I have my little girl back ?' The contessa's voice is heavy with irony. 'I'm her Empress. I can demand it.'

'Donia is a vassal state but they have a right to govern their internal affairs. Playing strongarm will simply give the separatists ammunition to try for full independence and as Lady Simone has denied all knowledge of Pauline's disappearance we can't exactly go looking for her. She has also pointed out that, even if she did have your daughter as a slave, she is perfectly within her rights to keep and train her as she sees fit. Slavery is still fully legal in the south.'

'Then what would you advise me to do ?' The contesse's anger is gone and she looks suddenly tired, drained, a woman who has lost her daughter.

'I need to think about it.'

The Contessa bows her head and begins to cry and Adele takes her lover in her arms.


THE INTERROGATION ROOM

Boot Girl looks up at Adele from the kneeling cage in which she is confined. This is forged in the shape of a girl kneeling on all fours and, although there is no chance of escape when the cage is locked, cuffs around Boot Girl's wrists and ankles are chained to the cage; nipple clamps locked to the underside of the cage keep her still as does a steel plug clamped to the cage and protruding deeply into her bottom. Boot Girl has spent her nights here when not hanging from the punishment frame or being stretched on one of the racks or, more recently being tightly clamped in the steel bondage vice and fed the truth drug. The heroine's mouth is clamped around a steel bar that is locked to the cage.

'How are we today ?' Adele stands beside the cage.

'.u.. o.. !' Boot Girl's oath doesn't need to be articulated to carry it's meaning. The drug has not yet worn off and Boot Girl's look is violent. Adele bends and unlocks the bar of the gag and the chains holding it securely in her sister's mouth.

'Bitch !'

'All's fair, darling.' Adele is in no mood to take any argument.

'Don't 'darling' me. You've never thought of anyone but yourself.'

'Do you know what the maximum sentence for vigilanteism is ?' Adele crouches beside the cage.

'Does it matter ? There'll be public disorder if Boot Girl get's imprisoned.' Boot Girl turns her head as much as she is able to glare at her sister.

'Not if the people think you kidnapped Princess Pauline.' Adele's fingers have slipped through the bars of the cage and now hook around one of the chains stretching her prisoner's clamped nipples.

'You fucking bitch !' Boot Girl growls in pain and anger.

'We'll need a scapegoat and you're hardly flavour of the month here in the palace. You're looking at twenty year's little one, twenty year's with that cute body servicing the city's filthiest bitches. After a week you'll be wishing you'd had your tongue cut out.'

'Fuck off.'

'Okay.' Adele shrugs. 'Open up.'

Hannah takes the bar between her teeth and Adele turns to leave then pauses at the door. 'Of course there may be something you can do for me that might make me change my mind.'


THE INTERROGATION ROOM, TWO DAYS LATER

'Ok, I'll do it.'

'Good girl. I knew you'd come round.' Adele toys with Hannah's gag.

'One condition.'

'You're not in any position to make a bargain.'

Hannah is still locked in the kneeling cage. 'You wouldn't be asking me if there was someone else you trusted.'

'I have a network of agents but go on.'

'I want my boots and my costume. I want to do this as Boot Girl.'

Adele shrugs. 'I'm not sure that will go down well with Lady de Renee.'

'You know as well as I do Hannah Pink has zero chance of succeeding. At least Boot Girl has a small one.'

'I'd thought about sending you in as a slave.' Adele smiles sadistically. 'They like their slaves to dance in the south. Someone with your talents should find it easy to get into the palace. Especially if we do something about your tits.'

'Leave my fucking tits out of this !' Hannah jerks in her bonds angrily. 'Anyway, if you send me in as a slave I can hardly rescue your princess.'

'So she's my princess now is she ?'

'She's certainly not mine.' Hannah is still angry about Adele's jibe.

'No sororial loyalty ?' Adele smiles confidently.

'None to you !' Boot Girl is not sure of all that she has said under torture but she thinks she may have let slip the princess' alter ego as Cat Girl.

'I meant loyalty to your saviour. I recall she kept you out of prison. You were her slave for a month and by all accounts completely inseparable.'

'She kept me in chains on a leash.' Boot Girl shifts nervously in her bondage trying to suppress the pleasure that ignites in her when she recalls her enslavement by the Princess Pauline.

'I don't recall much complaining at the time.'

'I was probably gagged.'

'That's not what I heard, that tongue stud of yours has quite a reputation.'

'Look, do you want me to rescue her or not ?' Hannah is not sure she can but she needs to get out of the cage. 'I'll go but I want to do it as Boot Girl and as far as I can tell you don't really have much choice.'

'I still don't think the Contesse will go for it.'

'Then I need to escape.'

'And how will you do that ?'

'You will help me.'

'So I'm just going to unlock the cage and walk off ?'

'You'll have to take these nipple clamps off first.'


THE INTERROGATION ROOM, AN HOUR LATER

'Comfy ?'

'Just get on with it.' Adele's back is against the interrogation table, she is held in place with multiple heavy leather straps. The angle of the table currently means she is in an almost upright position. She is naked.

Boot Girl adjusts the shoulder strap of her costume and looks at the helpless blonde.

'You know, seeing you like this does have quite an effect on me.'

'Eh ?'

'Yes, it makes me want to get my revenge.' Boot Girl leans in emphasising each syllable.

'I'll call the guard. You'll be back in the doggy cage before you know it.' Adele is maintaining her composure.

'Oh, you won't. I'm your best hope to rescue the pert princess and get you back in with your mistress. I reckon I've got twenty minutes or so to play with before it gets dark out there and for that time you're mine.'

She strokes Adele's cheek brushing a curl of blonde hair away behind her ear.

'I was doing what needed to be done.'

'Yes. Ever dutiful.' Boot Girl pauses. 'Oh no, wait, that's me. The one who didn't run away from the troupe.'

'There was no future for me there.' Adele seems distinctly uncomfortable.

'Was there any for me ?'

'You were too young to come with me. Anyway, you're here now.'

'You have no idea just how much I want to cause you some physical pain right now; nipple clamps, a good whipping on those big breasts of yours, perhaps some electrical stimulation.' She pauses for effect. 'But that would be weird, I don't know, a bit like torturing my sister.' She says the last phrase loudly and clearly.

'Fuck off.'

'What's that, Sis ? Don't like being on the receiving end ?' Boot Girl scowls and turns away to examine the rack of whips, running her finger over them until it stops on a long straight discipline whip with a steel core almost, by coincidence, the same as the one Contesse de Renee uses on her slave's breasts.

Adele's eyes follow her sister's hand.

'This one ?' Boot Girl turns round watching her sister for a reaction but Adele looks away.

'No, I have a much better plan.' Boot Girl crosses to a rack of clamps and steel tools looking at the knives and selects a long razor sharp blade and a steel bowl. She puts a rag in the bowl and fills it with water then brings it back to the interrogation table, setting it down beside the helpless blonde. Adele squirms in her bonds eyeing the implements nervously but doesn't cry out.

'You really are desperate aren't you.' Boot Girl knows she has the upper hand.

'Oh, you're still pretty dispensible.' Though she tries to hide it, the edge in Adele's voice betrays her anxiety.

'Relax, Sis. It's not as if I'm going to hurt you. Though I won't say you don't deserve it.' Boot Girl takes the rag and dips it in the water then drapes it over Adele's hips washing down her lower belly and sex.

'See, I even warmed the water.'

'Don't push your luck.'

'Oh, I won't. Even though you left, abandoned me.' Boot Girl picks up the blade.

'That was a long time ago.'

'And here we are, all those years later and you consort to the Empress of Belladonia. And me...' Boot Girl brandishes the blade and smiles wickedly.

Adele tenses.

'You know what's coming don't you ?'

'Just get on with it.'

Boot Girl puts the blade to Adele's belly and begins to shave her pubic hair.

'There, beautiful. Want me to do your eyebrows too ?'

'I won't forget this you know.' Adele's voice is dangerously controlled and her muscles tense against the tight leather restraints pinning her to the interrogation table.

Boot Girl washes Adele's newly shaved pubis and then gently dries it.

'It makes you look so much younger.' She pats the smooth skin. 'Mistress will love it.'

Adele frowns, wondering why her sister has chosen this above all other torments she could inflict.

'Don't you have an escape to fake ?'

'So I do.' Boot Girl grins. 'I've become quite an expert at this lately. You know I met the cutest little button on a police uniform recently and she showed me exactly how to do it. I really must thank her sometime.'

She starts to turn away then swings back landing her fist Adele hard on the side of the cheek; the helpless woman's head snaps to the side and a bruise begins to swell immediately.

'When I said I wasn't going to hurt you I lied.' She, pulls her fingerless leather glove tighter onto her fist hits her sister again on the other cheek. 'And before you say anything, I'm just doing what needs to be done.' Another blow, this one to the belly that leaves Adele gasping.

'If I'd tried to escape you'd have put up a real fight. There'd be bruises.' She hits Adele in the face again and the blonde's eyes glaze.

Satisfied, Boot Girl turns to the restraint rack and selects a large muzzle. Adele is in no state to resist as the heroine pushes the oral plug into her mouth and straps the muzzle in place then she adds a blindfold and steps back to admire her work.

I really should have put you in the doggy cage.

Once again she can't resist gently caressing the smooth pubic mound and Adele moans slightly into her gag.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Boot Girl replaces the bowl and then takes some rope cutting it with the knife before fraying the ends slightly. She throws them on the floor beside a heavy chair used for restraining prisoners and then knocks some of the whips out of the rack. Finally she crosses to the window of the interrogation room picks up a cudgel and swings it hard at the toughened glass. It take two swings to break it and several more to knock out the remains. Finally she dives out firing her boots.


SLAVE PITS, CHATEAU KLAW, LINDEN, DONIA

A sudden jerk on Pauline's clamped nipples brings her into immediate motion. She is no stranger to walking on the points of her toes in slave boots, she learned to do it in Angeland where such boots are commonly worn, even by those who were not slaves. She has a particularly fine pair of white leather Angelisch thigh boots at home, a souvenir from her time at finishing school in Angeland.

Aside from the boots she is naked, blindfolded and gagged, her arms strapped tightly behind her back in a slave sheath or single sleeve as such restraints are called in Angeland. She follows the irresistible tug on her nipples obediently and with confidence despite the short hobble that shortens her steps considerably. The latter is a southern affectation, a marker if more was needed that a slave girl is utterly subject to her mistress' whim forced to totter, a clumsy toy on a string. A pressure on her belly, her trainer's whip, signals for her to stop. Another jerk on her nipples tells her to turn and she steps out again.

Just a little too far.

The hobble brings her step up short, a tiny change but enough to make her stumble. Helpless, blind and balanced precariously on the vertiginous heels she tries to recover but a sharp, impatient tug on her nipples makes her fall heavily.

The whip follows immediately, two whips probably and perhaps a third, blows raining down on her bare thighs, buttocks, belly and breasts as she squirms on the floor struggling to recover.

With stinging blows falling on her skin she must force herself to act as she had been trained, rolling onto her belly ignoring the pain in her nipples as she lies on the clamps; then she struggles to pull her knees up under her, enduring the sudden volley of blows to her exposed buttocks; the guards and trainers are familiar with the clumsy movements of a fallen slave. Next she has to kneel up, exposing her breasts to the whips before finally throwing herself back onto her feet, tottering for a moment on the heels before steadying herself.

'You will be punished later.' Her trainer makes no attempt to hide her displeasure.

A sharp jerk on her nipples signifies that her training will to continue.


BELLANIA, SIX DAYS SOUTH OF HARMONY

The sun is low in sky when Boot Girl reaches the top of a small rise and sees the village, little more than a hamlet, ahead of her. It is not large, a single street, a market square and a few outlying cottages and barns; very different to the teaming metropolis that is Harmony. The heroine has slept rough for five days; shivering beneath hedges in the pre-dawn of early summer clear nights after sweating through days of oppressive sun and heat; drinking from streams, pools and cattle troughs; eating what food she can gather, largely unripe berries and small sour fruits from the roadside. She is tired, hungry and feels dirtier than she has done for a number of years. The village offers hope of an inn, a bath and a proper meal. She has planned to keep away from people, certainly in the proximity of the city, and this is the first time she has approached any sort of settlement; she is, after all, a fugitive.

City life has made me soft !

It is dusk as she reaches the nearest farmstead; the red sun casting long shadows across the surrounding farmland where waist high crops stand silent and unmoving in the still evening. She has seen a few figures still toiling in the fields as she has descended along the road but lights also shine in the windows of some of the houses in the village ahead whose battered sign proclaims it to be Campbell. The long strip of her shadow stretches into the gathering darkness as she enters a dusty farmyard which at first appears empty but then she hears a laugh and turns to sees a group of four girls in one corner, two leaning against the gate of what appears to be an exercise yard. They pass round a cask of liquor and Boot Girl's spirits lift.

As she crosses the yard a shrill wolf-whistle cuts the stillness.

'Hey, City Girl ! You lost ?' The girl speaks Bellanian but with a country accent that makes it sound like Donan despite them being little more than a hundred miles from Harmony.

Boot Girl looks at the small group, one of whom at least is clearly the worse for drink. She can see that three are typical country stock; blonde hair, tall and broad shouldered, buxom while the other is smaller with darker hair though more stocky than the typically slim brunettes of the city; this latter girl is naked and collared, her wrists cuffed behind her, clearly a slave; her leash is tied to the gate.

Slavery, true slavery, the owning of another, is illegal in Bellania and, as far as possibly enforced in Harmony while in the south, in the vassal state of Donia, it is perfectly legal. Bellania and Donia are now, of course, united as Belladonia but this anomaly of human ownership, among others, persists; they have, after all, only been united for several hundred years. Beyond the city, even this far north, the countryside offers more allegiance to rural Donia, home of the warrior queens and feudal titles than the the modern city of Harmony.

The girl on the leash might be a pledged slave or she might be some sort of indentured labourer...but she is probably a slave.

Boot Girl forces a smile and quickens her pace.

'Hey, gorgeous. I'm talkin' to you.'

Boot Girl sighs, in her current state she is certain she is anything but gorgeous. 'Just looking for a place to stay.'

The girl who has spoken breaks away from the group, walking unsteadily towards the heroine, the liquor cask swinging from her finger. After a moment the other two blondes follow leaving the smaller girl tethered to the gate.

Boot Girl stops, watching the girls approach and considers her options, almost surprised with herself for such a mature act. Madam Bondage or one of her swordmaidens would point out that, although they are clearly teenagers, by virtue of genetics and manual labour they pose a significant threat. Running would be sensible but rather unpredictable and unheroic; flying is a possibility but Boot Girl does not want to waste her fuel unless it is absolutely necessary; talking her way out sounds a good option; even if she is a heroine, combat seems ill-advised. She forces her smile wider as the girls begin to surround her.

'She ain't got no tits !' The girl who has been speaking is dressed in working leathers, a tight waistcoat lifts her huge cleavage and adds a curve to her waist; she wears leather breeches and knee boots. The others laugh and Boot Girl balls her fists resisting the urge to choose the combat option.

'Nice butt though, and look at those boots.' The girl to Boot Girl's right is dressed in a linen smock and breeches typical of a field labourer; she is the drunkest of the trio; like Leather Girl, Drunk Girl has a ruddy complexion and her hair is bleached by the sun. Their companion is similar and is the largest of the group.

My what a big girl you are.

'What do you say City Girl ? We can give you a place to stay.' Leather Girl leans forward her, large breasts swaying before Boot Girl's eyes, her breath smelling strongly of alcohol. 'Might even keep you warm too...for a price.' Drunk Girl moves her tongue suggestively.

'No, really. I'm just passing through.'

'What's the matter ? Don't like our hospitality ?' Big Girl joins in. 'Not good enough for you, City Girl ?'

Boot Girl has dealt with enough drunks to know that the situation is about to escalate.

'No, it's not that, it's just...'

'Come on, give us snog, Sexy !' Leather girl moves to grab Boot Girl who steps quickly back. 'Playing hard to get eh ?' Leather girl tries again and, when Boot Girl evades her a second time, lets out a low growl and swings a punch that would fell a cow. Boot Girl ducks and jumps sideways putting Drunk Girl between Leather Girl and Big Girl; as she does so a vision of Madame Bondage comes into her head: 'When faced with a superior force the wise warrior withdraws.'

Okay, I'm withdrawing.

Boot Girl steps back as Drunk Girl reaches to grab her; Boot Girl knocks the outstretched hand away and pushes Drunk Girl into Leather Girl.

'Come on girls. Let's not fight.' Boot Girl steps back lifting her hands to show she means no harm.

Big Girl pushes past her companions lunges for the heroine who only just steps clear.

When faced with multiple opponents the wise warrior is aware of all of them.' Madam Bondage is back in her head.

Yeah, I'm aware. I'm fucking... She looks over at the gate.

'Oh, Shit !'

Boot Girl stumbles over the dark haired girl who has somehow managed to detach herself from the gate and is kneeling behind her; she tries to roll away but Big Girl lands on top of her.


A JEWELRY STORE, HARMONY

'Ooooh, shiny !' Jezebel's glossy blue tinted lips curl into a smile as she watches the spinning pendant its facets glinting in the soft light. 'You really are very talented.' She turns to look at the helpless redhead tied to a chair in the corner. The woman glares back, blue eyes angry over the large gag filling her mouth.

Jezebel slips the necklace into a pouch at her waist and continues to peruse the jewels on display in the glass counters. 'As you might have guessed I'm very fond of sapphires; its the blue, it goes with my eyes.' Jezebel arches a thickly pencilled eyebrow; she is dressed in her usual costume; tight blue overbust style corset in striped blue velvet that nips her slim waist and displays her pale breasts; black satin briefs and shiny blue fishnet stockings suspended from the corset; on her feet are high heeled black suede ankle boots; blue velvet opera gloves cover her arms and a velvet choker encircles her throat; her face, as always, is painted, the thick layer of white hiding her many scars, blue lipstick coats her lips and thick pencilled eyebrows arch over her strikingly pale blue eyes; a small beauty spot adorns her left cheek; her hair is black with a single streak of white. A bracelet catches her eye and she slams a velvet covered fist into the glass of the counter shattering it.

'I'm so sorry about the mess, but if you'd only tell my where you keep the keys all this could have been avoided.' She gestures to the other shattered glass cases many of which still display items the redheaded jeweller has on display.

The girl struggles and shouts angrily into her gag. 'Oh, feisty ! You know I could take you home. Talented, feisty, pretty... What more could a girl want ? Though, of course, Tamzin wouldn't be very impressed. You do make this stuff, don't you ?'

The jeweller glares at her.

Jezebel struts over to the helpless girl The redhead is tied to the chair with her hands behind her; her white satin blouse has burst open in her struggles revealing a lacy black bra, her legs are spread, ankles pulled back outside the front legs of the chair and tied to the back ones, this has caused her black miniskirt to ride up exposing the tops of her very sheer stockings and her lacy knickers.

'Did I mention I'm in a relationship ?' Jezebel smiles down at the helpless girl. 'She can be difficult too; not that I have to listen, she's a slave you see; a proper southern slave, not one of your pledged subs; good whipping pussy; so I'm perfectly entitled to a little fun on the side.' Jezebel sits on the girl's lap and cups one large breast with a gloved hand. 'You know when I came in I had you down as a bit of a prude, those glasses are so last century and your hair...' Jezebel pauses. 'But now look at you; quite, the slut under that demure white blouse...and, if I'm not very much mistaken...' She rubs the girl's nipple feeling the jewelled piercing. 'Thought so. Keeping the best to yourself, eh ?' Jezebel pops the breast she is holding out of the lacy bra exposing an exquisite gold nipple brooch set with sapphires. 'You know, it's almost worth getting my nips done to wear this, but perhaps I'll give them to Tamzin. She's my...well...she's the one I'm in the relationship with.' Jezebel removes the piercing and then its fellow from the other breast. 'Anything else you'd like to tell me about ?'

The girl shouts angrily through her gag shaking her head but before she does so her eyes tell Jezebel what the needs to know.

Humans ! So predictable.

'You're not the only one with an eye for detail you know.' She slips from the girl's lap and crouches between her spread knees. The girl squirms trying to bring her thighs together but can do nothing as Jezebel slips her fingers inside the lacy knickers and finds the matching clit piercing.

'You know the more I think about it the more I'd like to take you with me. You and Tamzin would make a gorgeous pair. I really am going to get her pierced.' Jezebel stands and wipes the stud of the clit button on the girl's blouse. 'Have you had any pony training ?'

The girl shakes her head, fear replacing anger, tears welling in her wide blue eyes as Jezebel stashes her finds.

'Oh, I'm sorry, darling.' Jezebel's voice softens, sounding genuinely concerned. 'I'm just making idle chatter.' She stands, frowning as she thinks of Tamzin then shakes her head.

'You know, I've really enjoyed our little conversation.' Jezebels' smile returns. 'I admit it's been rather rather one sided but you've been so hospitable. I feel we're nearly friends. I must give you something to remember me by.' She removes one of her gloves and then reaches into the top of her stocking to produce a slim metallic cylinder from which she removes a cap. The girl's eyes follow it fearfully. The villainess twists the base extending a rod of blue lipstick which she applies to her lips using one of the display mirrors. 'A girl should always be prepared, don't you agree ?' She glances at the bound girl looks who looks up at her with wide eyes. 'You do agree, don't you.' Jezebel's voice takes on a harsh edge and the girl nods vigorously. 'Of course you do.' Her voice softens again. 'Now, as promised a little something for you. You're likely to be stuck here for quite a while so it's a small gift to amuse you.' She screws the lipstick case the other way and a finger of gel is extruded from the base; she wipes this with her index finger and rubs it with her thumb. 'I don't expect a good girl like you has ever tried this, but you really should.' Jezebel reaches out and touches one of the girls nipples, rubbing the gel in gently; she then repeats the process with the other nipple. Both nipples swell responsively and the girl begins to squirm, her face flushing. 'You may not have tried it but I bet you know what it is.' Jezebel smiles. 'Burning a bit are they ?' Jezebel smiles knowingly. 'Don't worry, it will pass. Then the fun really begins.' She leans forward and blows on one of the swollen nipples. The girl whimpers and her nipples swell further. 'Good, isn't it ?'

When the villainess gets no response her voice hardens again. 'Well ?' The girl nods though with little certainty. 'Better !' Jezebel crouches down between the girl's spread legs and eases the gusset of the black lacy knickers aside again. She then smears the gel over the girls clit and labia ignoring the redheads gagged protestations.

Jezebel grins and blows gently on the girl's rapidly moistening sex. The redheads's cries grow louder and change in tone. 'Oh, good girl.' Jezebel twists the metal tube again and the lower section comes away, she tips out a small egg-shaped object and slips in inside the girls pussy.

'Nnnppphhhhh !' Despite the girl's protests the device goes inside easily and the villainess' fingers come away sticky and wet.

Jezebel eases the knickers back into place and stands slipping the last of her chosen jewellery into her pouch; then she wipes her hand on the girl's blouse, slides her lipstick back into her stocking top and pulls on her glove.

'Well, I think we've become more than just good friends now, don't you ?'

The girl's eyes are shining now, the red flush on her chest spreading up to her cheeks. Still frightened, she looks up at the villainess and gives the briefest of nods.

Jezebel smiles. 'Well, must dash.' She bends forward and plants a blue kiss on the girl's blushing cheek then she turns and strides towards the door leaving the girl struggling behind her. Finally, before she leaves, Jezebel turns and pulls the lipstick case from her stocking again, holding it up for the girl to see then, very deliberately, she presses the end and the device clicks.

The girl stiffens gasping around her gag as the vibrator Jezebel has placed inside her springs to life. 'Don't worry, darling, the battery will last all night.'

Jezebel turns on her heels, shuts the door and saunters off down the darkening street.


CHATEAU KLAW

Pauline's punishment is appropriate for her failing, a night of walking in her toeboots on a treadmill trainer, hobbled, blind and helpless, arms sheathed; she is held upright by the head harness with its huge ball gag and heavy leather blindfold; walking determinedly; if she falls the chain from the harness to the frame of the trainer above her will not let her fall far. Heavy toothed clamps on her nipples fixed to the frame of the trainer in front of her ensure she keeps up the pace, and a clamp on her clit, its chain a fraction longer than the nipple ones shocks her if she falls behind enough or stumbles so as to put tension on its chain. She has fallen twice in the four hours she has been on the machine, dangling by her neck, twisting in disorientating darkness like a fish on a line, shocks pulsing though her tortured clit, her nipples stretched being jerked painfully as she struggles to recover her footing.

The muscles of her legs burn, calves tortured from her long day training in toe boots; her shoulders throb and she can barely feel her arms for the tightness of her slave sheath. She drools around her gag, her saliva mixing with the sheen of sweat on her bare skin.


CHAPTER 3

CAMBELL, A VILLAGE IN BELLANIA

Boot Girl is hanging by her wrists and she is naked. She is in a barn, wrists bound with hemp suspended from a hoist usually used for lifting hay bales onto the upper floor. Her legs are spread wide, hemp around her ankles stretching them towards wooden posts that support the roof. Her subjugation has been as brutal as it was brief; after falling she was quickly pinned down, beaten and then stripped; Big Girl and Drunk Girl then held her down, not a difficult task following her beating, while Leather Girl bound her wrists; she was then dragged half conscious to the barn where she was hoisted by her wrists.

A bucket of chill water from the trough brings Boot Girl more fully to her senses and she opens her eyes to find Drunk Girl standing in front of her, hands on hips, appraising her.

I really could have handled that so much better.

'Skinny, ain't she ?' opines Big girl.

'She ain't got any tits.' Leather Girl opines again. 'She ain't a boy is she ?'

Drunk girl reaches between Boot Girl's spread legs and feels her sex. The helpless heroine protests loudly around the large wooden baton that gags her, struggling in her bonds.

'No, definitely a girl.'

'What we gonna do with her then ?' asks Big girl.

Drunk Girl smiles evilly. 'I thought you'd never ask.' She grins maliciously up at Boot Girl. 'We's gonna have some fun I recon.' She turns to her comrades. 'Them city bitches supposed to be very good at satisfying a girl, well versed in erotic techniques, an' that tongue stud's gotta be for something.' Drunk girl makes a lewd gesture with her own tongue and the others laugh.

'Might take a bit of persuading, I recon,' suggests Leather girl, 'P'rhaps I could, you know, soften her up like.' Leather girl picks up a coiled whip from a wooden hook.

'Yeah, might need some persuadin' to do all three of us.' Big Girl laughs. 'That's trouble with them skinny bitches, no stamina.'

Boot Girl looks around for the fourth girl but cannot see her.

'P'rhaps we should give Rosie a go too.'

'Na, she won't want it.' Leather Girl states knowledgeably. 'Frigid as a Gaian Priest in Fallow. Where is the little fuck-wit anyway. I'm parched.'

At that moment the barn door opens and the smaller dark haired girl enters carrying two more flagons of liquor.

'Good girl, Rosie.' Leather Girl takes one of the casks, pulls out the stopper with her teeth and passes it to Drunk Girl. 'P'rhaps we should give her a go after all.'

As the three larger girls drink Boot Girl watches Rosie, walk quietly to one corner of the barn and kneel down. The girl is gently curved. She is still naked and barefoot and has leather cuffs fastened around her wrists and ankles and a matching collar around her neck. Her movements are quick and graceful and, when she glances up at Boot Girl large with dark eyes below long dark lashes Boot Girl can see she is very pretty with a slightly round face and soft dimples in her cheeks.

Well, I wouldn't mind doing you.

Rosie looks up sharply at that moment her pretty eyes opening wide and her soft features breaking into one of the most beautiful smiles Boot Girl can remember ever seeing. Much to her own surprise Boot Girl feels herself blushing and looks away quickly.

An hour later the three country girls are very drunk and the two flagons lie empty on the floor of the barn. In addition to the bruises from her earlier beating, Boot Girl now has several dozen welts over her chest, belly, buttocks, back and thighs, she also has a cut on her left cheek from the tip of the whip. Her right eye is so badly swollen from an earlier blow it is almost closed. Heavy steel clamps have been applied to her nipples in an attempt to 'stretch 'em'. Fortunately for Boot Girl, none of her captors has shown much skill with the whip they have been using to 'warm her up'.

'I think she's ready.' Drunk Girl opines.

Leather Girl operates the hoist and lowers Boot Girl while Big girl guides the helpless heroine back over a pile of hay bales, pulling her bound arms down and securing them to a post. Boot Girl is not an any condition to struggle and ends up stretched over a pile of hay bales, back arched, arms above her head and leg spread wide.

'Let's see if she's any good then.' Drunk Girl hitches up her skirt and straddles the helpless heroine, her weight on Boot Girl's chest increasing the pain from the nipple clamps. 'Better do a good job, cutie.'

'Money back guarantee of satisfact...' is all Boot Girl can manage between her gag being removed and her mouth forced against the girl's sex.

There is little Boot Girl can do but comply. The girl's pussy is sweaty but Hannah Pink, exotic dancer, hostess and city girl has had a lot worse. She rakes her tongue back and forth along the girl's sex feeling the labia swell and recognising the tang of arousal.

'Hey. Bitch. Do it right.' The girl pulls Boot Girl's face harder into her pussy, smothering her. Boot Girl pulls back in an attempt to breathe but the girl holds her firmly. 'Hey girls, give her some encouragement will you.'

There is a slash of pain over the soles of Boot Girl's feet as one of the others strikes her with a cane. She squirms and then pushes her tongue obediently into the girls' moist slit raking the stud over her clitoris.

'Better !' Drunk girl releases Boot Girl's head a little and the heroine gasps in a lungful of air before applying her tongue again.

Over the next hour the process continues as, stretched on her back over the hay bales, Boot Girl is forced to pleasure each of the girls in turn. As each one sits astride her enjoying Boot Girls' talented tongue another other whips her feet. Between the enforced sex sessions Boot Girl is regagged while the girls drink more liquor that Rosie fetches and take turns to use the cane on their captive's belly, breasts and sex. At some point in the proceedings heavy steel clamps like those on her nipples are applied to her labia.

Eventually, all three girls are satisfied or drunk or a combination of the two. Boot Girl's gag is replaced and she is hoisted back up to hang by her wrists.

'What we gonna do with her ?' Leather Girl asks and when there is no reply she turns to find Drunk girl and Big girl asleep. The hoist reaches the point at which Boot Girl is stretched tautly between the bonds on her wrists and ankles and she begins to protest through her gag. Leather Girl turns and, seeing what is happening, shutting off the hoist though she doesn't release it. Boot Girl squirms but can barely move. Leather girl leers up at her captive and then puts a finger to her lips. 'Shhhh...' she giggles. 'Jus' one more fing...' She takes a length of rope and, reaching up ties it to the chain connecting Boot Girl's nipple clamps. 'While we're stretchin' you let's do a proper job.' She pulls the cord taut and wraps it round a strut on the barn's door. Boot Girl gurgles into her gag as her burning nipples are stretched even more painfully. 'Shhh...' Leather Girl admonishes and then disappears out of the door.

Well, that went well. Good move from City Slave to Country Sex Toy. And they all want to make my tits bigger. Gaia, I feel like shit.

CHATEAU KLAW, TWO WEEKS LATER

Pauline is on her knees between the spread thighs of one of her trainers her tongue applying itself diligently to the woman's labia. Though she is blindfolded she can tell by the taste which of her trainers it is she is currently pleasuring and knows this one likes to have the slave's tongue driven deep inside her pussy to tease her G-spot. It is the third time she has pleasured this woman in this particular training session and this guard, a blonde is one of about a dozen of her trainers who are running the session.

Pauline's arms are sheathed behind her back as they are almost constantly now except when she has her combat training. The blindfold is part of the head harness she usually wears for training although, for this particular exercise the huge gag that comes with it has been removed. During her training she has been forced to endure increasingly large gags and now is able to accommodate if not fully tolerate a gag the size of her fist.

The trainer is controlling her movements with her head harness and using a goad to shock the slave when she feels her efforts are not fully satisfying.

She is, of course, not unused to pleasuring other women and her natural submissive nature has meant she is not a stranger to doing so in tight bondage. However, her recent training has provided a finesse to her oral skills that appears to make her one of the more sought out slaves in the pens. She is familiar with the concept of teasing and denial, of progressing slowly at some times and more quickly at others to pleasure a lover but has previously judged this by what she now realises are somewhat coarse markers, moans or expressions, perhaps gestures; now deprived of her vision for much of the time and forced to deliver cunnilingus to different women multiple times a day she has learned other, more subtle cues, direct responses of the labia and clitoris, muscle spasms, even taste.

She feels the trainer climax in just the way she had expected, her thighs closing momentarily around the Pauline's head and her hips thrusting forward; she is suddenly very aware of her own arousal.

During her initial physical training she had little time for sexual satisfaction, though on occasions her body had responded to the bondage she was forced to endure and there were nights kneeling in her cage, chained and sheathed that she squirmed to arouse herself to much a needed climax; however, she had probably only done it half a dozen times in the weeks of that early confinement so exhausted had she been by the physical training.

Now, however, she is more aware of her sexual needs and suspects they are being deliberately manipulated. She knows some of the trainers use slave gel and suspects occasionally some is given to her. Completing her education in Angeland since the age of eighteen she has little experience of slave gel, technically an illegal drug in Bellania, though has enjoyed the effects of Angelisch nipple paste.

There are, thus, times when she feels intensely aroused, probably absorbing traces of gel through her tongue when she pleasures her trainers and guards, particularly those who visit her in her cage at night. There is little opportunity, however, for her to satisfy these desires. Even in Bellania where slaves pledge to their mistresses it is usual for them to promise not to climax without permission and most would expect punishment if caught pleasuring themselves; pledged slave, of course, frequently ensure they are caught to initiate their desired punishment. In the south too, a slave girl would be punished for such an offense, probably severely, even if she were conditioned and thus kept in a state of constant sexual arousal.

It is not just to prevent their slaves escaping that southern mistresses keep them in constant and extremely tight bondage.

Pauline has been punished twice for being caught playing with herself, on one occasion just after she managed to achieve climax and, although the punishment, a harsh whipping was severe she sustained herself through it with memories of the intense orgasm that had earned her the chastisement. On the other occasion, she was almost there and, despite a night suspended in an intensely punishing hogtie, she found dealing with the need for orgasm the hardest part of the punishment.

Neither episode has put her off masturbation despite being kept tightly restrained in ways which make self stimulation difficult and being kept hooded so that she cannot easily tell if she was being watched.

The cries around her from other helpless slaves tell her she was not alone in her needs.

CAMPBELL

The sun is at its zenith and the heat of the day almost unbearable. Boot Girl stands harnessed to a heavy cart in a small field of straw about half a mile from the village. Around her mechanical harvesters work in larger fields while the crops in small fields are cut by hand. Drunk Girl, whom Boot Girl now sometimes calls Hungover Girl wields a powered hand held scythe while Rosie follows behind with a small baler. The cute brunette is harnessed between the shafts of the baler which looks like a hand-cart with a funnel at the front and a motor mounted on the top. The device gathers straw and compacts it before tying it into small bales which Big Girl lifts onto Hannah's cart.

Helpless in the harness with her arms yolked, Hannah is lead along by nipple reins. She is becoming used to the harness which is made of thick leather and clearly designed for heavy work rather than pony play; it consists of a wide collar with straps down front and back to a broad waist belt and further straps between her legs that press firmly against her sex. Chains from the waist belt and the yolk harness her to the cart. Though it is uncomfortable and has chafed her skin, at least the harness has pauldrons which protect her shoulders and some of her body from the sun; despite this she can feel the exposed skin of her limbs and face starting to burn; the harness also provides some respite from the chaffing of her slave collar. The heroine is bridled too, a bit between her teeth keeping her mouth open so that the dust from the cutting that fills the air around her also coats her mouth increasing her thirst. She has been pacing the field from shortly after dawn and made four trips up the steep track to the barn, encouraged by the pull of the nipple reins and liberal use of the whip on her back and buttocks.

The work is boring and physically demanding. Only the presence of Rosie makes the situation bearable. At night he pretty brunette dresses her wounds, washes her and spreads lotion on her chaffed, burned skin. It is clear the girl cannot speak but she clearly understands Bellanian and her gestures are eloquent in conveying her meaning. Sometimes Hannah thinks the girl can read her mind.

It is three weeks since the start of Hannah's captivity and, her life as a slave seems to follow a predictable pattern. She is woken at dawn and usually hooded before being released from whatever bondage in which she has spent the night. She is then yolked and harnessed before the hood is removed and she is given bowl of food and water which she gulps down rapidly while kneeling on the barn floor. She is then bridled and lead out into the yard where she is harnessed to her cart. She works the days in the fields and then, as the sun sets she is taken back to the barn where she pleasures her captors and, not infrequently, their friends. The bruises from her first beating have more or less healed but each day she acquires more and Drunk/Hangover Girl in particular seems to delight in punishing her.

Leather girl has produced a set of restraints for Hannah with which she is chained at night and a particularly large metal gag that can be used to force her mouth open. She has also forged the captive a collar from a steel bar that is welded around her neck so that, even if she did work herself free of her bonds in the night she would be chained by this.

CAMPBELL, A FEW WEEKS LATER

Hannah crawls on all fours along the main street of Campbell. She is naked and chained at the wrist and ankle. She is muzzled too and wears one of Leather Girl's recent creations, a tail of leather thongs mounted on a plug that is pushed into her bottom and held in place by a steel chain that encircles her waist. Drunk Girl holds a chain leash that is locked to her collar. It is an hour after dusk, the air is cooling rapidly and Hannah tries not to shiver. It is two months since the start of the heroine's captivity and she knows she is in bad shape. The small meal she gulps down at breakfast is nowhere near adequate for the physical activity of the day which leaves her body aching. The beatings and prolonged periods in bondage are starting to take their toll too.

It is the end of harvest and, from what Hannah can gather, the villagers are all on their way to the Gaian temple. The religion on the 'Maiden Earth' is stronger in the countryside though priestesses are occasionally seen in the streets of Harmony extolling the citizens to repent of their sins against the Maiden. The priestesses are a peripatetic order, traveling from towns to villages and even cities seemingly at random to carry out blessings, marriages and funerals though many suspect a conspiracy of secrecy hides behind their hoods and robes.

Hannah has seen the priestess arriving in Campbell earlier riding into town on her chariot, a heavy steel affair drawn by her shaven-headed acolyte, harnessed between the traces. The acolyte, or suplicanti, was naked apart from her heavy harness and, from what Hannah could see as she trotted past driven by her black robed Domina, in almost as bad a state as the heroine is herself. Aside from their secrecy, Gaian priestesses are renowned for their mistreatment of their acolytes and, in many cases their greed.

At the temple Hannah is chained to a post outside while Drunk Girl and Leather Girl go inside. The temple is wooden as are many Gaian temples, with heavy doors and, as her captors enter, Hannah catches a waft of incense carried on the hot, stale air inside.

She shivers and curls up, hugging her knees despite the relative warmth of the evening as she tries to keep warm.

Hannah bends forward at the waist and picks up the half chewed pastry in her mouth, gulping it down quickly before she can be stopped. She is naked, as she has been for most of the last two months, and chained by her steel collar to a wooden pillar in the barn. Her wrists are cuffed behind her, high in the small of her back to a chain running down from her collar. Drunk Girl and her friends are enjoying the harvest celebration after their visit to the temple and Tongue Stud or 'Stud' as Hannah has become known is a popular source of entertainment. Chained in one corner she has pleased most of the twenty or so girls in the barn, most at least twice and it is the last of these that has thrown her the remains of her pastry.

It is, as far as Hannah can tell, way passed midnight and most of the guests are starting to depart. Those remaining are very drunk. Not for the first time Hannah wonders what has happened to Rosie, the small pert brunette has been conspicuously absent during the latter part of the evening.

Some lucky sod's probably fucking her right now.

Hannah senses another 'client' standing before her and looks up to find Drunk Girl and Big Girl standing in front of her.

'We wan' a little entertainment.'

Hannah rolls her eyes and Drunk girl cuffs her across the face.

'You'll do as we say, Stud.' Drunk Girl grabs Hannah by the hair and yanks her head back, her other hand clamping around Hannah's throat.

CHATEAU KLAW

Pauline squirms in her cot. She has spent the afternoon in physical training and the evening providing some extracurricular cunnilingus to her trainers and guards. Kneeling in her cage, hooded and restrained, she has pleasured at least seven women, including, finally, she thinks their leader, Lash. She is unsure whether the villainess recognises her from their previous encounters in Harmony although thinks she probably doesn't.

The slave's arms are, as usual, tightly laced behind her back in a slave sheath and her ankles are crossed and bound together, clipped to the tip of her arm restraint. It is not the first time she has spent the night in a hogtie and this is a fairly gentle one compared to some she has endured; she thinks they may have been gentle with her as a reward for the use of her skilled tongue. She is now gagged, of course, the big red ball strapped into her mouth with the exotic spicy taste of the small, lean overseer still on her tongue.

From the arousal of her body, Pauline is fairly sure that at least one of the guards had been using slave gel, probably the fifth one as it was during this encounter she began to feel a familiar response in her body, a flushing of her skin and stiffening of her nipples. As she pleasured the sixth guard, the woman's fist firmly wrapped around her pony tail pulled through the hood to give her captors better control over her she began to feel a rising need to be pleasured herself and began to squirm in her bonds pushing her breasts forward to rub them on the girl's legs. Her response did not go unnoticed and she was forced to pause in her ministrations, her head pulled harshly back, while she endured a sharp caning on the breasts.

The caning did little to cool the rising lust in her body and, if anything, probably inflamed it making her sensitive breasts bounce so that when it was over she was still panting hard and her pussy was very wet. Her breasts were then handled briefly and she hoped for a moment she would be made to come even though it would result in punishment afterwards but then she heard Lash's command and her mouth was pulled back to the guard's pussy to finish her off before the overseer took her turn.

With the women satisfied she was gagged and hogtied and left on her cot, chained to it by her steel collar.

She has waited as long as she could but finally can no longer resist the urge to squirm, rubbing her nipples and pussy on the rough canvas of her cot. In no time at all she has herself close to orgasm and now she teases herself carefully, trying to prolong the pleasure of her arousal, trying to stave off the orgasm her aroused body so desperately craves.

CAMPBELL

Boot Girl is hanging by her wrists and she is naked. She is not sure whether she has been dozing or unconscious. Her beating at the hands of Drunk girl and Big girl was brutal even by their standards as, cuffed and helpless, she was kicked, slapped and whipped in between periods of forced cunnilingus. Every part of her body aches and she has noticed her breathing becoming harder. She is hanging by her wrists, still cuffed behind her back, her legs are spread by a wooden pole to which her ankles are bound, she is gagged and clamped. Drunk girl and Big girl are snoring loudly.

She opens her right eye, the other, not for the first time in her captivity swollen shut, to find Rosie standing in front of her. The girl wears cloak and carries a knife.

Not you too, Honey. Just make it quick !

Rosie raises the knife and steps toward her.

Fuck, what a way to go. Just don't piss yourself, Hannah.

Boot Girl looks down at the girl in front of her trying not to show fear and finds she is not actually afraid. Rosie places the knife between her teeth and removes the clamps from Boot Girl's clit; despite all she has endured the pain Hannah feels is intense and she cries out through her gag as the blood flows back into her tortured sex. Rosie looks around anxiously but the other two girls are still snoring loudly. She reaches up to Boot Girl's chest and, stretching onto tiptoe takes hold of the nipple clamps; Boot Girl struggles wildly and bites the gag as the clamps are removed.

Hey, Bitch. Don't make me suffer any more.

Then Rosie cuts the ropes holding Boot Girl's ankles and Hannah gratefully moves her legs, bringing them together, her stiff muscles throbbing only slightly less than her nipples; a moment later the hoist is released and Boot Girl finds herself falling rapidly; her legs are in no condition to support her and the pain in her feet when she lands is enough to make her cry out around the gag.

A moment later Rosie is at her side removing her gag and trying to get her to her feet.

'Not a good rescue attempt Cute One. I don't think I can even stand let alone run away.'

With surprising ease Rosie hefts Boot Girl over her shoulder and carries her through the door.

'Hey, we're not gonna to get far like this and you're gonna get a beating.'

Rosie pushes the barn door open. Outside is a pony chariot, a smart racing model from it's lines.

'Great, an escape vehicle with no power. Look girlie, you're far prettier than those bitches in there and I could spend all day looking into those big brown eyes but you're clearly not the sharpest tool in the box...even in this neck of the woods.'

Rosie seems unperturbed, dropping her burden into the chariot and motioning Hannah to hold on. Hannah is aware that her boots and costume are bundled beside her.

'Do you even understand Belladonian ?'

Rosie nods.

Course I do.

'Look, Cutie. This is a pony cart. I'm usually a good pony and if you'd caught me at the right moment I'd perform for you no questions asked but I'm not really up to it now.'

Rosie looks at Boot Girl in frustration and then throws off her cloak; underneath she is strapped into a pony harness, her curvacious body bulging slightly around the black straps. The harness is a fairly standard design, collar with vertical straps front and back that run to a broad waist belt, straps from this running to thigh cuffs; other straps cross her back and shoulders and steel rings her circle her breasts.

Boot Girl smiles. 'You really are a cutie.' She watches as Rosie moves to the front of the chariot between the shafts and begins attaching the tracers to her harness.

'Are you really gonna do this for me ?'

Rosie nods.

Boot Girl shrugs. 'Here, let me give you a hand.' With great difficulty she stands and staggers on tiptoes to spare her sore feet towards her rescuer. When Rosie smiles at her, however, it all seems very much worth the effort.

So cute.

It takes five more minutes to harness Rosie properly; Boot Girl begins by adding the bridle. 'I suppose if you can't talk then it doesn't matter if you're gagged.' Rosie shakes her head. 'I'm assuming we're using bit reins ?' Rosie nods emphatically. 'Shame, those nips are just crying out to be pierced.' Rosie frowns. 'Ok, girl, I'm sorry. Guess I should know better than to criticise another girl's tits.' She clips the reins to Rosie's bridle and tests the tension then she picks up the bladed pony boots and slips them onto Rosie's feet. 'You sure you're ok with these.' Rosie glares. 'Ok, shutting up.' She straps the boots on tightly, runs a final check over the harness and climbs back into the chariot.

'Ok, girl. Let's go.'

CHATEAU KLAW, LINDEN, DONIA

Pauline is being punished. She has been caught, not for the first time, masturbating by squirming in her cot, pressing her thighs together and rubbing her nipples against anything she can find in an attempt to achieve orgasm. After another whipping she has been restrained standing in her cage with her chest pressed firmly against the steel bars. Her legs are spread wide and drawn back by cuffs locked on her ankles and the top of her hood is fastened to something behind her making her back arch. Her sheathed arms are also stretched behind her back and lifted towards the roof of the cage. She is held against the side of the cage by her breasts which are pushed through the bars and squeezed by a breast press, there are weighted clamps on her nipples. Weights hang from her labia and clitoris.

Of all the torments inflicted by this position the press on her breasts is probably the most severe. She has been aware for some time that her breasts have felt more sensitive than usual. At first she had thought that it was simply the constant whippings and canings and training braless. Then her breasts began to feel heavier which she initially thought was the liberal use of nipple clamps on her. Now, however, she realsies she is being fed the hormone that is used in the south (and sometimes illegally in the north) to enlarge slaves' breasts.

Tenderness is an expected side effect of the treatment and Pauline knows that some girls get other effects, particularly Angels who for some reason, can begin to lactate, a condition that sometimes ceases when the treatment is stopped but occasionally continues. She has heard that lactating Angels or 'milk blondes' as they are sometimes called fetch very high prices in the southern slave markets and even more in the city states far to the south of Linden.

She blames the hormone for her increased libido too and therefore her current punishment.

Gaia, they were big enough already.

She can't help smiling around her gag at the thought.

SOUTHERN BELLANIA

Boot Girl can feel warmth on her body and see light through her closed eyelids. She tries to open her eyes and succeeds with the right, screwing it up again immediately in response to the bright sunlight. In her brief flash of vision can see she is lying in the chariot in a clearing beside a stream; dappled light bathes her battered body and, at last she feels warm.

On leaving the barn the previous night they had passed Leather Girl asleep at the roadside and, had she not been so exhausted, Boot Girl would have climbed off the chariot and given her a hefty kick. As it was she sat on the saddle for as long as the could bear, her body aching and stiff, her feet sore and her eyelids becoming so heavy that she found herself dozing. Satisfied that Rosie was an accomplished pony despite seeming to ignore any attempt to guide her with the reins, Boot Girl pulled a blanket form the pack Rosie had provided and, curling up in the floor of the chariot, fell quickly to sleep despite the jolting of the chariot on the bumpy road and the chill of the night air.

As she comes fully awake, Boot Girl realises the chariot is rocking back and forth and recognises it as the movement a pony standing on blades makes to keep her balance. Awkward and stiff from her beating, her bondage and the chill night asleep in the chariot she lifts herself to a sitting position and then cautiously places her sore feet on the ground. Carefully she stands and, with some difficulty hobbles to Rosie's side limping awkwardly on the toes of one foot and the outside of the other. It is clear the girl have been standing for some time, the sweat on her body is cooling; the pony looks tired, her face drawn in the bridle and, again, Boot Girl is reminded of the girl's astounding beauty.

'Need a rest then gorgeous ?'

Rosie nods and Boot Girl releases the girl's wrists then frees her from the traces and shafts. With her hands free Rosie waves Boot Girl away and gestures for her to rest on a mossy bank beneath a willow tree.

'No, I'll be fine. Let me help you.'

Rosie shakes her head and gestures emphatically towards the mossy bed.

'Ok, but you must promise to come and rest beside me.'

Rosie glares but behind this, she is smiling.

Boot Girl raises her hands and half staggers, half crawls, depositing herself gratefully on the soft earth. She watches as Rosie unbuckles the pony boots with their long curved blades and then removes her harness.

Gaia ! You really are beautiful aren't you !

Rosie looks at her and Boot Girl once again feels she has intruded; she looks away but her eyes are drawn back to the soft curves of Rosie's now naked form.

Perhaps those sluts really did kill me and she's an angel taking me to heaven.

Rosie smiles at her.

I hope it's a long journey.

She watches Rosie climb into the cold water, sees her shiver as she washes herself, notices the way her nipples harden in response.

Oh Gaia, I need a swim.

Boot Girl tries to rise but Rosie shakes her head gesturing for her to stay on the mossy bank.

After a few minutes Rosie climbs from the stream, sparking droplets of water falling from her naked skin. She pulls a blanket from the pack and wraps herself. As Rosie stands in the warm sunshine, Boot Girl looks over her own body noting the multiple bruises that cover her body from the soles of her feet to her face. There are cuts from the whip on her chest and belly and, as far as she can tell, on her back and buttocks too. Her hand goes to her face to explore the swelling around her left eye. She tries to prise it open but it is stuck closed.

I'm here with the most beautiful girl in all creation next to me and I look like shit.

Rosie smiles at her.

You're gonna have to stop doing that girlie, 'cos when I'm better iIm not going to be responsible for my actions around you.

Rosie looks down at her in concern then, with the blanket still drawn around her walks over to the chariot. She pulls a cloth from the pack and wets it in the stream then brings it over to Boot Girl and squats beside her; gently she dabs to swollen eye, washing the blood away. Hannah winces but allows the girl to continue.

'Do what you gotta do.'

Rosie spends the next thirty minutes or so tending to Hannah's wounds, washing them and rinsing the cloth in the stream. Boot Girl protests that she can bath herself in the stream but it is probably more bravado than fact and Rosie seems to realise this. When she is happy with her work she gestures for Boot Girl to sleep and, when the heroine lays down she covers her with the dry blanket from the chariot.

'Goodnight kiss ?'

Rosie smiles broadly, her face lighting with pleasure but shakes her head.

Hannah is asleep within minutes.

CHATEAU KLAW

'Hit me !'

Pauline hesitates and takes the lash of a long pony whip across the calves.

'Hit me, Slut or you'll get the punishment you deserve.' It is the blonde trainer standing in front of her.

Pauline is naked and, aside from a steel collar, free of restraints for the first time in over two months.

It is her first combat class.

'I said hit me.' The blonde holds up her fists in a standard southern fighting guard. Pauline can tell she is more a brawler than a trained fighter and therefore probably less skilled, albeit with more actual combat experience.

Pauline is the opposite, highly trained in the Angelisch style but, aside from competition bouts (and a very memorable match against Lady Bishop) she has only fought twice, incidents that now seem a long time ago and a long way away.

The blonde jabs, the move is clearly a feint to frighten her.

Pauline stands her ground.

The guard jabs again, her irritation clear.

You asked for this sweetie.

Pauline ducks to the side and catches the guards hand bringing her knee up into the woman's ribs, she wants to follow up but stops herself.

The guard glares at her.

'Think you're smart, huh ?'

Pauline smiles and the guard leaps at her.

In a move she has practiced hundreds of times Pauline drops low below the assault, grabbing the guard's tunic and falling onto her back. The guard flies over her head and Pauline rises easily to her feet.

Way smarter that you.

The guard draws her baton, swinging it threateningly and then launches herself at Pauline.

Oh, sweetie, don't they tell you in guard school ? First rule of combat, never use your primary weapon as the first attack.

Pauline leans out of range and jams a kick in under the woman's jaw knocking her unconscious.

A moment later the princess is on her belly beneath half a dozen guards who swiftly cuff her wrists and elbows behind her back and then shackle her ankles. They are not a brutal as she might have expected and it is a good thing she doesn't put up a struggle as most of them wouldn't be able to respond because they are laughing so hard at their comrade's misfortune.


CHAPTER 4

THE PUNISHMENT ROOM, ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

Adele tries not to cry out as the long steel cored whip lands on her clamped breasts again with a sharp snap and the heavy globes bounce in response, the chain between the clamps clipped to her big nipples dances.

'Continue.' Contesse de Renee smiles with a newly practiced cruelty down at her helpless lover.

'Yes, Mistress.' Adele looks up at the gorgeous dark eyes dominatrix who has begun to show such sadistic pleasure in punishing her.

It is three months since the disappearance of Pauline de Renee, the contesse's daughter and despite Adele's efforts, little progress has been made. The contesse's councilor and lover has been tormented by her failure, relishing the severe punishments to contesse inflicts upon her. She is beaten now twice a day both as routine and in chastisement for her other failings which seem to grow each day.

'The crime figures are up and...'

The whip lands again.

'...the Moochers have trashed the Mall...'

Again.

'...and the blue cat-burglar has struck again...'

Another stinging blow.

Adele looks up as she fights back tears; it is not just the pain, nor her failing but the intense tightly controlled emotion of her lover's demeanor as she stands above the kneeling blonde, magnificent and terrifying in her leather breeches and tightly laced bustier. Adele kneels, naked and pilloried, her breasts cuffed, throbbing and bruised.

'And what did the blue cat-burglar do this time ?' For the first time in this evening's report Contesse de Renee smiles slightly.

Adele notices the tiny shimmer of humour.

'Relieved Kendra Janes of her jewel collection and left her in a very compromising position.' Adele pauses, grimacing as she waits for the whip lands again.

'Go on.'

'Miss Janes has seven cats. The report suggests the starlet was tied spreadeagle and gagged then something nutritious and highly attractive to her feline companions was smeared on her nipples, sex and the soles of her feet. The cats thoroughly enjoyed the affair...' Adele paused. '...Lapped it up, you might say.'

Contesse de Renee's smile widen's slightly. 'And how long did the unfortunate Miss Janes have to endure this ignominy ?'

Adele risks a slight smile too. 'The robbery happening on Friday night and Kendra was discovered by her cleaner on Monday morning.'

'Presumably she didn't have to endure those rough feline tongues on her sensitive parts all that time.'

'It seems the substance was rather tenacious. The cats were still trying to remove it from her helpless body when the troopers arrived at lunchtime.'

The mention of her police troopers seems to draw Lady de Renee back the problems of her city and her smile vanishes. 'And what are my people thinking ?'

Adele sighs. She has a network of informers, knows that the increase in crime and the unrest is causing anxiety, a self fulfilling spiral, knows that the disappearance of Princess Pauline de Renee has exposed weaknesses in the rule of Harmony's law. It is an open secret that she is in Donia and, thus presumably, being held hostage or, as other rumours suggest, being turned into a conditioned slave.

House de Renee was once popular having kept the Angelisch threat at bay and subdued the Donians, but that was a generation ago and, safe in the city, the people have become used to the comfort of the modern world. This threat to that safety makes those who dissent raise their voices and there are many who do.

Adele had hoped that the disappearance of the crown princess might raise the people in unison but Pauline is newly returned to Harmony from her schooling in Angeland and, though known previously as a child of the city memories have faded and her loss is not felt acutely.

'The population is nervous...saying...'

The whip strikes and the nipple chain dances.

'That Boot Girl...'

The whip lands again.

'They say that you have driven Boot Girl away and you don't care about the people you govern.' Adele knows this is not true, knows that her Mistress loves her people and serves them diligently. She knows, too, why Boot Girl no longer conducts her heroics across the city. This makes the sleight, all the more difficult to vocalise. She tenses for the expected flurry of blows but it does not come.

Contesse de Renee covers her face and drops to her knees, her magnificent chest heaving as her body is racked with sobs.

Though Adele longs to comfort her mistress, she is locked in the pillory and there is nothing she can do.

SOUTHERN BELLANIA, NOT FAR FROM THE DONAN BORDER

Boot Girl and Rosie have been traveling for nearly ten days. For the first three they travelled only at night but then, when pursuit seemed somewhat less likely they began to travel in the day. It is late afternoon and Boot Girl can see a building in the distance. They pass a sign referring to 'The Adventuress' a fourteenth century coaching inn and fifteen minutes later Boot Girl is guiding Rosie into the courtyard. The pony has not refused the guidance of the reins on this occasion which Boot Girl thinks of as positive.

As she draws on the reins pulling Rosie to a stop the innkeeper emerges from a doorway.

'Evening Madam. Will you be wanting a room ?' The woman is a typical fair haired country girl, a pretty round face and blue eyes; she wears a long dress with tightly laced bodice and plunging neckline that displays her enormous cleavage to its full advantage.

'Yes, please.'

'I'll get the groom to stable your pony.' Hannah notes the woman speaks with a very obvious Donan accent, presumably speaking Bellanian on account of her new guest's appearance.

'No, just the gig. I'll take the pony up with me.'

The innkeeper smiles indulgently, clearly not approving of ponies sharing rooms with their mistresses but accedes to the demands of her customer. 'Jewel !' She calls and a girl emerges from the stable block; she is slim with long dark hair, dark eyes and high cheekbones; she is almost naked, dressed only in a leather corset and matching neck stock; she has large breasts, the nipples pierced with hoops, another piercing ring can be seen between her legs. She moves with the athletic grace of a trained pony, walking slightly on her toes.

'Come and take the lady's gear and put the gig in stable three.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'And bring the pony to the bar when you've unharnessed her.' She turns to Boot Girl. 'I assume you'll want to give her a rub down. Jewel can do it if you want.'

'No, thank you. I'd prefer to do it myself.'

The innkeeper looks Rosie up and down and smiles. 'Yes, I can see that you might.'

The bar is in the style of the traditional coaching inn; wood beams, a coal fire, wall lanterns turned down and walls hung with tack and pictures of coaches, carts and gigs from showing the spectrum from full sixteens to single racers; some of the prints are old or retro enough to show men in them both as ponies and drivers. At the innkeeper's invitation Boot Girl takes a seat by the window overlooking the road and orders a beer. While she waits for her drink she studies the etching of country ladies in traditional southern cage skirts racing plumed ponies harnessed to wooden gigs.

When the beer comes it is cold and delicious after the rations of water bread, cold meat and fruit the girls have eaten while on the road. Boot Girl downs it without thinking and orders another so that by the time Rosie is brought in she is embarking on a third and, with her stomach otherwise empty, a little tipsy.

Rosie wears only a frown, a brown leather collar and a tag with number '3' clipped to right nipple; her wrists are cuffed behind her back and her ankles hobbled. Jewel guides her with a leash which she clips to a ring clearly designed for the purpose at the corner of the table and indicates that her charge should kneel. Rosie glares at her but obeys and, as the girl kneels, Boot Girl notices a number of fresh red welts across her buttocks.

Boot Girl reaches to take another sip of her drink but notices Rosie's glare of disapproval.

'I was just being sociable to our host.' She realises her words are a little slurred. 'Ok, lets go to the room.'

Abandoning her drink Boot Girl unclips Rosie's leash and leads her out of the bar towards the back of the inn.

Since when did I become such a pushover ?

The room is on the first floor, not spacious but comfortable with a large bed fitted as would be expected with restraint rings and a rug at the foot for ponies that are lucky enough to be taken to their mistress' room; and, of course, the usual selection of discipline equipment arrayed on a rack on the wall; there are more prints of pony carts too, mostly racing images including a more recent one of Star and Sarah winning their seventh Prix des Cheveaux.

As she finishes looking around the room, Boot Girl realises Rosie is still glaring at her.

'Sorry.' She moves to release Rosie from her cuffs. 'Look, I need to pee but then you can have the bathroom.' Boot Girl displays one of her super-cute smiles. 'You have done most of the work after all.'

Rosie does not seem particularly satisfied with the arrangement but Boot Girl submits to the demands of her bladder and leaves the brunette to remove her collar and hobble.

It's not as if I'm going to get the chance to fuck your cute little brains out despite that nice big bed.

From the third day onwards with her injuries healing, Boot Girl has been trying to control her libido. It is not helped by Rosie's utter submission to the role of the pony, insisting on full harness and bridle despite her slight reluctance to obey the reins; she has also insisted on being restrained each night and even willingly lain beside Hannah under the blanket to share warmth; she has, however, resisted each and every sexual advance Hannah has attempted. Each day as Hannah has watched the elegant curves of Rosie body strain at the harness the heroine has vowed to be more forceful when the pony is restrained and helpless that night but, as the time has come, she has felt taking advantage of the girl would be a violation of her wishes. So, as she has become stronger and has lain unsatisfied beside the object of her desires with mounting lust to point, she has been forced on the last three nights to play with herself, teasing her body to a much needed climax while Rosie sleeps beside her.

Boot Girl does not expect the pattern to change at the inn and any hopes of bedding Rosie evaporate when Boot Girl catches sight of herself in the bathroom mirror.

At least the room will have a decent vibrator I can use.

When she emerges from the bathroom Boot Girl finds Rosie still standing in the middle of the room collared and hobbled; the tag is still clipped to her right nipple. Boot Girl gestures to towards her companion. 'Take them off.'

Rosie glares at her and gestures that Boot Girl should do it.

'Ok. I'll do it.' Boot Girl bends down and unclips the cuffs from Rosie's ankles then stands to remove her collar. As she reaches for the nipple tag Rosie slaps her hand away.

'Ok, I'm sorry.' Boot Girl backs away and raises her hands defensively. She watches Rosie remove the clip and grimace as her nipple takes up its natural shape.

'Go on then. Go and take a bath. I'll get some food sent up.'

Rosie shakes her head.

'Look, what do you want ?'

Rosie reaches out and grasps Boot Girl's lapels sliding them off her shoulders; she pushes them down the heroine's arms and then, before Boot Girl can slip her arms out of the leather loop, Rosie pushes her back towards the bed.

'Well, that's promising.' Boot Girl's arms are loosely pinned behind her by the shoulder strap of her costume; as she sits she doesn't try to disentangle them. Rosie crouches and undoes Boot Girl's left boot.

'You don't have to do this.'

Rosie ignores her and removes the boot, turning her attention to the right one.

'Look, Rosie. While we've been traveling I've...' She struggles for the right words. 'I mean you're not my slave and we're not...'

There's got to be some explanation as to why I haven't banged you senseless every night.

Rosie smiles up at her as she pulls the boot off.

'Gaia, my feet smell.'

Rosie laughs, placing the boots side by side against the wall. She turns back and motions Boot Girl to stand. As the heroine complies the strap of her costume falls away from her arms. Rosie steps forward and pulls the tiny shorts down leaving Boot Girl naked.

'You know...'

Rosie looks up at her and puts a finger to her lips. They are standing very close and Boot Girl feels a desperate desire to take hold of the lovely brunette and throw her onto the bed.

The moment passes and Rosie turns to place Boot Girl's costume on the chair by her boots.

You've lost your nerve, Hannah Pink.

She watches Rosie move to the rack of restraints and discipline equipment. The girl selects some steel cuffs and a wooden gag then turns back to the naked blonde. She holds up the cuffs and without thinking Boot Girl puts her hands behind her and turns round. Rosie locks the cuffs in place and then spins Hannah back to face her.

'Don't trust me, huh ? You could just lock the bathroom door.'

Rosie holds up the gag and arches her eyebrows mischievously.

'Shutting up.'

Then Rosie takes hold of Boot Girl's arm and leads her to the bathroom.

The room is a wet room with grey slate tiles and a large shower head. Rosie positions Boot Girl under the shower and activates it. Warm water cascades on them.

Over the next fifteen minutes Rosie washes the grime from Hannah's body in a way that leaves the blonde gasping. She begins with Hannah's legs and feet, squatting down to rub the dirt from them, then moves on the her belly and buttocks before soaping the panting heroine's chest.

If you carry on like this girl iIm gonna come.

Rosie smiles up at her as this thought crosses Boot Girl's mind and, not for the first time in Rosie's presence, Boot Girl feels herself blushing furiously.

Hannah is not sure whether she is relieved or disappointed when Rosie starts to wash her own body.

'I could do that for you.'

Rosie turns to frown but her eyes are smiling. She picks up the gag.

'Ok, you win.' Boot Girl opens her mouth and allows herself to be gagged then watches with increasing arousal as the brunette soaps her own body. Rosie then washes her hair and, when she has rinsed it makes Boot Girl kneel so she can wash the blonde's hair too. In captivity this has grown from a short cut with little fringe into more of a blonde bob. As she stands behind the kneeling heroine rinsing the conditioner from Boot Girl's hair, Rosie removes the gag.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Boot girl speaks before she can stop herself and blushes again. Rosie bends to kiss the top of her head and then helps her to stand. She leads the cuffed heroine to the dryer and they stand in the warm air stream as their bodies and hair dry, Rosie running her hands through Boot Girl's hair and her own.

As they step out of the bathroom Boot Girl looks longingly at the bed and an image of her asleep on the rug at it's foot, chained to her Rosie's bed by a collar forms in her mind.

What's happening to me ? One cute girl rescues me and I'm a hopeless case.

Rosie guides Hannah to the bed and then removes her cuffs.

'That's it then ?'

Rosie rolls her eyes in exasperation puts he finger to Hannah's lips. Hannah cannot resist kissing it and Rosie smiles then pushes the blonde back onto the bed climbing up on top of her.

The bed is fitted with the kind of restraints any discerning mistress might need to conveniently restrain a slave or pony and Rosie makes use of these spreading Hannah's arms and cuffing her wrists to the head before climbing off repeating the process with her legs. Hannah lies naked and spreadeagle on the soft mattress and watches as Rosie picks up the gag and pointedly places it on the bedside table.

Ok, I'll be quiet.

Rosie walks to the rack of discipline equipment and picks up a short flexible crop then turns to show Hannah the fresh marks on her buttocks. Boot Girl has used the whip on her companion only once in their journey, near the end of their second day together and only done it then out of habit as Rosie slowed at the end of a steep climb when the pony appeared to be struggling. Following the stinging blows to her buttock the girl had stopped and looked back at Boot Girl before trudging off up the hill with an angry demeanor.

Rosie places the whip beside the gag and then climbs back on the bed to sit astride the helpless blonde.

Kiss me, please.

Slowly Rosie leans forward, her brown hair falling onto Hannah's chest and then around her face. Hannah watches the full pale red lips approach her own and then gazes up at the beautiful dark eyes that suddenly seem timid and unsure.

Their lips touch and a pleasure so intense courses through Hannah's body that she thinks she might never experience such joy again. Although Rosie's kiss is almost hesitant at first the girl seems to gain confidence from the contact and Hannah feels the girl grasp her head as the kiss become more forceful. She longs to hold the girl herself and pulls at the chains holding her wrists.

Rosie notices Boot Girl's movement and sits up grinning mischievously. She reaches for the gag.

Please don't gag me. Just kiss me again.

Rosie picks up the whip and puts it in Hannah's mouth then kisses her again. Then, slowly, lingeringly, Rosie starts to work her way down Hannah's captive body, mouth and tongue seeking out and exploring what seems to be every square inch of Hannah's skin as if she is trying to kiss away every sign of abuse. By the time Rosie reaches Hannah's nipples the helpless girl is squirming madly and whimpering with desire. Finally, as Rosie moves from the right to left nipple, Hannah spits out the whip.

'Look, you're just going to have to whip me. I'm going to beg.'

Rosie sits up and looks down disapprovingly at her helpless captive; she is now astride Hannah's hips and the girl's sex rubbing against her unshaven pubic area is almost as stimulating as Rosie's mouth on her nipples. Rosie picks up the whip and, looking stern, lays it across Hannah's nipples as if she is marking the place where she left off; she then takes the gag and places it between Hannah's teeth, buckling the strap before returning her attention to the helpless blonde's swollen, sensitive nipples.

The exquisite teasing seems to go on forever; Rosie's mouth moves down to Hannah's belly, her tongue exploring the navel and then works its way towards the tops of her spread thighs. By now, Hannah is writhing with lust.

Oh Gaia, she is one of your angels. Please, I'll do anything, just don't make her stop.

As if on cue Rosie sits up again and picks up the whip, drawing the tip over Hannah's nipples. Hannah squirms, arching her hips up nearly lifting Rosie off the bed. Rosie raises the whip and Hannah turns her face away waiting for it to be brought down on her breasts.

When Rosie doesn't strike Hannah turns back again. She watches Rosie throw the whip off the bed and then the brunette bends forward again, kissing Hannah on the lips around the gag; as she does so she wraps her ams and legs around Hannah's body, pulling them together and suddenly Hannah sense's Rosie's own arousal.

Gaia I want to kiss you again.

As the kiss finishes Rosie reaches behind Hannah's head fumbling to unbuckle the gag. then she yanks the soaking ball out as Hannah's tongue works to expel it in a wash of saliva.

Their kiss this time is infinitely more passionate than the first and when their tongues finally disentangle it is because they are both breathless.

'Let me please you, please...Mistress.'

Rosie does not rebuke her this time but slides up the her body and offers one of her nipples into Hannah's mouth. Hannah's lifts her head taking the breast, holding it with the lips before flicking the nipple with her tongue stud. She feels Rosie jerk in response.

So you are mortal after all.

She teases the nipple again and Rosie squeezes her body.

With her mouth full of Rosie's breast Hannah manages to refrain from any further one liners and then with Rosie squirming on top of her is rewarded by a further kiss that leaves her breathless before Rosie begins to climb up her.

Gaia, I hope I can give you what you want.

Rosie kneels with her legs over Hannah's shoulders and then, slowly lowers her sex towards Hannah's mouth. She is as wet as Hannah thinks she is herself and when Hannah rakes her tongue over the girl's dark labia she buck's wildly and kneels up again.

Ok. I'll be gentle.

Rosie lowers her hips again and Hannah gently teases her with her tongue.

CHATEAU KLAW

Pauline is being punished for her fight with the guard.

She is hanging by her ankles, her legs spread, her inner thighs and her pussy burning from the intense whipping the angry guard has inflicted. Her wrists are chained to the floor beneath her head. Needless to say she is hooded and gagged.

She has been like this for several hours and Pauline assumes she will spend the night this way.

Such is the lot of a southern slave.

Suddenly, she feels something brush her fingers and a moment later her wrist cuffs are released from the floor though they are left chained together and lifted up to her belly then her elbows are pulled back and a steel pole pushed through them behind her back so that her forearms are pinned to her sides.

Then she is lowered to the floor.

Her hood and gag are left in place.

'Kneel.' She hears the command and obeys instantly.

Clamps are placed on her nipples.

'Stand.'

Pauline obeys.

A sharp tug on her nipples sets her quickly in motion.

She thinks she knows where she is going.

The bondage in which Pauline has been placed is typical for the southern game of slave baiting. A hooded slave is given a small treat and perhaps a sip of wine then, when she has had a tiny taste it is taken from her, in such a way that she is expected to follow, questing for a second bite or swallow. Needless to say, as she moves towards it, mouth open, seeking blindly, it is moved and various obstacles are placed in her way. With her arms held uselessly at her side and her elbows drawn back her breasts and buttocks are completely unprotected and the whip can be used freely to guide her alongside a great deal of verbal teasing.

Sexual stimuli are often used too, a smear of slave gel on the nipples and the promise of sexual teasing, enough to arouse but not satisfy her.

A skilled team of baiters can take a slave to such a frenzy of excitement that she will offer to perform willingly any service that she might normally have to be beaten to undertake.

Thus, an hour later, her belly warm with wine, Pauline is willingly offering up her breasts to the whip and begging her tormentors to abuse her swollen nipples in exchange for the reward of another touch to her aching pussy in between kneeling to service each of the guards in any way they choose.

THE ADVENTURESS, AN INN ON THE DONAN BORDER

Rosie's orgasm seems to fill Hannah with a pleasure that is almost like climaxing herself. As Rosie's arousal has built Hannah has felt herself become more and more aroused and as Rosie spasmed, coming gently at first then, repeated orgasms that grow in strength, building until, some time later, she comes more strongly finally shuddering to an orgasm that Hannah feels both physically and emotionally.

Hannah lies helpless and strangely fulfilled despite her lack of physical climax patiently waiting for Rosie to recover. It takes some time, but finally, the brunette eases herself off the spreadeagled blonde and lies beside her. Her eyes still lack focus as she gently reaches over to kiss Hannah on the lips that are now smeared with her sexual juices, her fingers gently stroke Hannah's nipples.

Suddenly there is a knock at the door and Hannah jumps jerking in her bonds.

Rosie simply smiles and, sliding from the bed, takes up one of the rumpled sheets and wraps it coyly around herself then walks silently to the door.

Jewel is there carrying a tray of food. The slave is gagged and her wrists are cuffed in front of her body and elbows behind. Her large breasts carry fresh whip marks and when she bends to place the tray on the table it is clear her buttocks have been whipped too. She looks surprised to see the change of roles between the guest and her pony but with the gag can make no comment. Watching from the bed Hannah wonders what the slave has done to incur her mistress' displeasure; though she feels sure Rosie takes pleasure in the slave's misfortune.

When Jewel has gone Rosie takes a flannel from the bathroom and wipes Hannah's mouth, she then carries the tray over to the bed and gives the captive girl a drink; cradling her head in her hands, then Rosie begins to feed her.

When they leave the inn the next morning Rosie is back in harness. Boot Girl has offered to be the pony for the next stage of the journey but Rosie has refused, shaking her head emphatically. In fact, despite her dominance in the early evening, after feeding her captive and then teasing her slowly but surely to climax she released Hannah and insisted on being chained for the night. Boot Girl was thus obliged to cuff the girl's hands behind her back and shackle her ankles before chaining her lover by the collar to the foot of the bed. Thus when the innkeeper brought them breakfast she nodded approvingly at the setup.

As they leave the courtyard of the inn, Rosie harnessed and pulling the chariot they pass Jewel who has clearly displeased her Mistress; she is tied naked between two posts, a gag in her mouth and weighted clamps on her nipples. It is clear she has endured a further whipping.

Once Boot Girl wonders what the slave can have done to upset her mistress so severely; from the way Rosie turns to look at the helpless girl, she suspects the brunette has some idea and wishes, not for the first time that her companion and pony could speak. She looks at the pert pony between the shafts of the gig enjoying the movement of the girls buttocks, recalling the lustful coupling of the previous night then, as they leave the inn gates, Boot Girl shakes the reins and Rosie lifts her legs as she starts to trot using the blades to gain speed.

CHATEAU KLAW

Pauline faces Lash in the training room, The princess is on her knees and is again naked aside from the steel collar around her neck. Lash wears her usual garment of twisted thongs and leather ropes. They are alone though she suspects there are guards stationed outside.

'The guards tell me you are skilled.' Lash regards her intently.

'I have had some training, Mistress.' Pauline keeps her head bowed.

'Stand.'

Pauline obeys.

'Take up a guard.'

Pauline lifts her hands, putting her left foot slightly forward.

'Angelisch style ?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Interesting.' Lash launches a kick. Though the blonde is smaller than Pauline, the kick is to the head and delivered with such explosive power that, had the slave not ducked it would have knocked her from her feet quite possibly breaking her jaw in the process.

Lash follows with and spin and reverse elbow. Pauline avoids, ducking the elbow and moving to grapple, her arm snaking around the blonde's neck. She avoids Lash's counter strike but then the blonde leaps into the air unbalancing the slave and spinning, dropping to land a punch that Pauline thinks she pulls to prolong the engagement.

The two have fought before, Pauline in her guise as Cat Girl, surprised by the villianess as she tried to rescue Boot Girl from La Donna whom she now knows as Lady Simone. In that encounter Lash made short work or her but Pauline has trained further and, though, since her captivity she has not had the opportunity to fight she is considerably fitter than she has ever been even taking into account the physical training she endured at her Angelisch finishing school..

She wonders briefly if Lash recgonises her, not as Pauline, but as the heroine she briefly became.

The villainess attacks and Pauline steps back parrying before she sees an opportunity to counter.

Lash steps back as Pauline delivers a flurry of strikes, elbows, low kicks and punches, but then the villainess brings her down hard.

'Yield !.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline's arm is pinned by Lash's shoulder, held twisted in a vice-like grip.

Lash releases her and stands.

'I can see why the guards had trouble with you.' Lash's voice is harsh but Pauline thinks the villainess is maintaining her authority. 'I will train you daily. La Donna will have a creditable fighting slave.'

LINDEN, DONIA

Chateau Klaw is a sprawling ornate palace that has grown almost organically from the small keep that was once Castle Klaw; a fortress that has stood for centuries on a high cliff that once overlooked an inland sea but now presides over salt lake that rapidly gives way to desert. Sections can be seen from different centuries of architecture from plain dark ages stone work through ornate enlightenment dressing to modern crystal and glass. It stands, imposing itself upon the skyline of Linden, ancient capital of the province of Donia. Linden is situated at the southern end of Belladonia and, though the largest city of the province is really little more than a town by Bellanian standards.

Boot Girl has seen the chateau in pictures and recognises it instantly. She knows this stage of her journey has come to an end and knows that she cannot allow Rosie to become involved. An almost overwhelming sadness fills her and Rosie looks round from between the traces.

Boot Girl smiles.

'Nearly there. We'll rest in the town.'

Try to behave like a real pony for the next ten minutes.

Boot Girl realises that she will have to remember to treat Rosie like a pony and not talk to her, not in public at least. She is aware of southern customs, of enforced slavery and how it differs from the voluntary pledging and even employed ponies in Harmony and Bellania.

She guides Rosie off the small road and onto the highway which becomes increasingly crowded as they approach the town. They join a line of pony carts laden with goods moving slowly on the inside lane while a small number of cars, mostly tracked farm vehicles glide past in the fast lane; naked slaves walk beside the road on leashes, goods strapped to their backs.

Watching the chateau high above her slowly grow in size Boot Girl is filled with a growing sense of doubt that she will have any chance of rescuing the princess.

The town was once fortified and still has thick sandstone walls that are crenelated in places. They enter through the eastern gate in the early afternoon after passing through a settlement, a shanty town of wooden and concrete buildings, clearly designed as temporary structures but dilapidated and multiply patched and repaired as if they have stood for many years.

Thin dirty peasant girls watch the procession of pony carts, slaves and modern transports that form the slow convoy into the town. Some offer food, fruit and pastries or drinks to the drivers and slave owners; most are shooed away. Boot Girl suspects that on occasions they are rounded up and taken into slavery, perhaps to work in farms so the landowners are no longer required to pay the pittance the girls earn as free women. Some she knows will be sent south to the city states beyond the desert.

The lower town is poor, winding streets between sandstone houses with thick walls and flat roofs typical of the hot south; these dwellings are, however, far better than the hovels of the outskirts. In the market square is a typical southern slave market, the slaver in her silken robes displaying her wares, naked girls in chains, some kneeling on platforms, one or two displayed more suggestively, strapped to racks with their legs spread or mounted on poles that impale them, penetrating them more deeply as they move. A number of the girls are clearly conditioned, most of these have had their breasts enhanced and are dressed in tiny wisps of silk; they shift restlessly in their bonds, their skins flushed and their nipples erect, their eyes shining with lust, clearly desperate to be touched. A few of the slaves are being punished, one powerfully built girl, a redhead clearly of northern descent, who looks like she might be a fighting slave is restrained in a pillory; she has heavy weights hanging from her nipples and her head pulled back, her red hair laced into the ring of a butt hook; there are whipmarks on her buttocks and breasts.

Hannah finds an inn down a sidestreet that is barely wide enough to take her chariot down. The innkeeper greets her in Donan, clearly suspicious at Hannah's accent and slightly clumsy use of the language. Belladonian, the official language is made up largely of Bellanian as spoken in Harmony but with some influence of Donan, the tongue of the south and most who live beyond the walls of Harmony speak both tongues to some degree. Natives of the old state of Donia, however, always chose to speak Donan though most can speak Belladonian if they choose. Having grown up in the countryside Hannah speaks Donan moderately well but not as a native of the south.

She asks for a room and stabling for her pony and agrees to pay far more than such a service if worth.

'You must go.'

Rosie shakes her head.

'Look, I'm here for a reason...' Hannah searches for inspiration. 'I have something to do in the castle. I don't want you to get involved.'

Rosie again shakes her head. The brunette is naked and still harnessed.

'Look !' Hannah tries the stern approach. 'It's either that or I sell you to one of those slavers we've just passed.'

Rosie glares at her.

'Sorry.' Regret washes over Hannah and for a moment she considers taking Rosie with her despite all the impossibility of such an act. She reaches out and touches Rosie, stroking her cheek and feels an almost overwhelming desire to force herself on the girl then and there, taking the brunette with all the self righteousness of a southern mistress.

Rosie steps back and the thought passes.

'Look.' Hannah reaches into her boot. 'This is the key to my apartment in Harmony. Well, if I still have one and if I do it probably doesn't have a front door anymore... or any windows for that matter.' She pushes the key into Rosie's hand and begins to free the girl's wrists. The brunette takes the key and doesn't resist as Hannah frees her from the harness. In a few moments the girl is naked.

'It's apartment seven, floor thirty three, Weather's towers. I'd come and show you...but...' Hannah's voice trials off.

'Do you have any idea what I'm talking about ?'

Rosie nods and smiles then pulls a robe from the pack in the cart. She crouches down and draws a 7 in the sand on the floor of the stable and then a 33.

Hannah shakes her head. 'Look, I'll probably never need it again. By tomorrow I'll be a slave in the castle getting my ass whipped and, if I'm lucky, being conditioned...' A small smile flickers across her lips as she speaks. 'But if I do manage to res...er...complete my...plan, I'll come back an find you.'

Hannah realises Rosie is looking at her intensely, her large eyes shining with tears.

'Oh, I'm sorry.'

Rosie smiles and hugs her fiercely and Hannah finds herself holding just as tightly to the brunette, unwilling to release her so the girl won't see the tears in Hannah's own eyes.

Rosie releases her and begins to don the robe.

'Look, maybe when this is all over we can get together...' Hannah grins, bravado covering her sadness. '...relive our night at the inn.'

Rosie tightens the belt of the robe and pulls up the hood then she looks at Hannah, smiling broadly. She lifts her fingers to her lips and blows Hannah a kiss then she turns and is gone, slipping out into the street.

Fuck ! What are you doing, Hannah Pink ?

That was the greatest thing that ever happened to you and you're giving up in exchange for some misguided loyalty...

An hour later Hannah stands before the gates of Chateau Klaw. She has sold the chariot to the innkeeper for a little under a quarter what it is worth. She wears her costume and a traveling robe that flutters behind her in the warm evening breeze.

'What do you want ?'

'To see La Donna.'

The guard laughs.

'Tell her Boot Girl is here and wishes to pledge her allegiance.'

There is are a few moments silence and then the sound of scurrying feet.

The gates open and Hannah can see a dozen guards in the blue livery of La Donna, short tunics and knee boots, the panther crest across their breasts. Four carry tazers and the rest carry whips and capture loops.

Oh fuck !

Boot Girl throws off her cloak and runs at them...

LADY SIMONE'S PRIVATE AUDIENCE CHAMBER, CHATEAU KLAW, DONIA

Boot Girl is hanging by her wrists and she is naked. She has been here for several hours, initially alone, her wrists are spread above her head, she hangs from a punishment frame, her ankles are bound too, legs spread wide, and tied to a heavy pole level with the base of the frame that puts a strain on her captive body. It did not take long for the guards to subdue her and, on this occasion, she has put up little fight; just enough to show her indignity at being treated this way. After being subdued her wrists were bound then she was brought to this room and tied to the frame. She is in a stone chamber with high windows; there are tapestries on the walls and woven carpets on the floor; at the top end of the room is an ornate chair set on a stone block.

A dark haired woman in a jeweled leather harness who Boot Girl assumes to be Lady Simone now sits on the throne conversing with Lash and Fetish. There are two guards at the door and another prisoner, a hooded and naked slave, bound to another frame.

'Is this the way you treat all you guests ?' The captive heroine has little to lose.

Lash looks up but Fetish and Lady Simone ignore her and continue their conversation. Although the tones are hushed there is clearly some disagreement, which Boot Girl presumes is a debate about whether to kill or enslave her.

'Hey, I'm on your side.' Boot Girl persists.

'Gag her!' Lady Simone does not even look up. One of the guards steps forward and lifts a large rubber ball to Boot Girl's lips. There seems little point in arguing and the helpless heroine opens her mouth to accept it.

Finally a decision appears to have been reached and Lady Simone approaches the naked bound and tightly gagged heroine. Fetish steps behind Boot Girl and unbuckles the gag. Boot Girl does her best not to drool over her chest as the large ball is pulled out of her mouth.

'Tell me why you have come here.' Lady Simone, La Donna is a woman entirely used to being in command.

'I wanted a change of scene. City life isn't what it's cracked up to be.'

'And you thought Linden would be a nice place to visit.' The southern queen smiles with her lips.

'There's obviously work going here. These two clowns you employ are hardly worth a decent wage.'

'Fuck you !' Fetish looks up at her angrily, the corner of her mouth twitching.

'I'd be happy to teach her some manners, My Lady.' Boot Girl looks down at the multiply pierced brunette from where she hangs helplessly. 'How's the arm by the way, Fetish ?'

Fetish involuntarily reaches to touch her arm.

'And you wouldn't be here for any other reason ?' La Donna toys with a whip coiled at her belt. 'A spy perhaps ? A rescue mission ?'

'Ma Donna, what you do is your affair I'm just a hard working Heroine trying to earn a crust and I'm not exactly flavour of the month in Harmony. You on the other hand know how to...reward loyalty...shall we say ?'

'But I don't need to reward you, I can easily make you my slave. Believe me, Lash and Fetish are very capable when it comes to breaking feisty young things like yourself.' She unhooks the whip and fingers its coils idly. 'I suspect they would relish the challenge.'

Lash smiles and Fetish grins manically.

'But you know that would be a waste of talent. Let me serve you and I will prove to you it's the right decision. Besides, I'm hardly built to be a pleasure slave.'

Lady Simone smiles looking up at Boot Girls captive body. 'Pleasure was hardly the discipline I had in mind.'

'You have nothing to lose.' Boot Girl is undeterred. 'If you don't like what I do then make me your slave.'

La Donna pauses for a moment. 'Very well. Cut her down.'

Fetish draws a knife and, despite her expectation of release, Boot Girl flinches but her left wrist is cut free leaving her hanging by the right then this bond is cut; she falls to the floor tipping forward and forced to use her hand to steady herself. Fetish then cuts the ankle ropes.

'Do I get my clothes back ?' Boot Girl stands rubbing her wrists.

'In a few moments perhaps.'

Lady Simone walks across to the other captive. As they approach Boot Girl can see the girl's body is bruised. Fetish removes the girl's hood; as she does so a cascade of tousled dark hair falls away and large dark eyes blink in the light. It is Pauline.

'This slave has been recalcitrant. Your first task it to punish her.'

Fetish thrusts a whip into Boot Girl's hand, an eyebrow arching and a wicked smile on her face.


CHAPTER 5

LADY SIMONE'S PRIVATE AUDIENCE CHAMBER, CHATEAU KLAW, DONIA

Boot girl looks for a moment at the helpless girl; she is spread on a punishment frame as the heroine herself was a few moments before; a bit gag is buckled between her teeth. Her skin is dirty, bruised and scratched, her hair matted, her lip split. There is a flicker of recognition and a moment of hope then Boot Girl raises the whip and strikes. Pauline tenses as the whip strikes her naked back but the princess makes no sound, a second stoke follows and a third. Red weals appear where the lash caresses her flesh. After nine strokes Pauline is breathing hard, her teeth clamped tightly on the gag, tears welling in her dark eyes.

Boot Girl completes the first dozen. Though she has inflicted pain and bruised the skin she has not broken it.

'How many lashes ?'

'Another dozen should be sufficient then she can spend the night in a punishment tie.'

'Time for a bit of fun then.'

With the next stroke Boot Girl deliberately curls the tip of the whip around the naked slave's body so it catches her right nipple. Pauline gives a cry of shock and pain. Boot Girl moves to the other side and changes the whip to her left hand repeating the stroke so it catches the left nipple.

'Well, Lash, I think we might have found someone who can give you a challenge.' Lady Simone sounds genuinely impressed.

Lash remains silent but Fetish claps her hands. 'Know any more tricks ?'

Boot Girl transfers the whip back to her right hand and flicks it up catching the base of both breasts, in the same movement she brings it down on top of the breasts and then with two more strokes licks each nipple in turn. Pauline cries out through her gag. Boot Girl switches her attention to the slave's buttocks and delivers a series of stinging lashes that cause Pauline to arch her back stretching her captive body and exposing the soles of her feet; as she does so Boot Girl whips them once each.

The slave is rigid now, sweat coating her skin, she whimpers with each blow.

'One left. Any requests.'

Fetish licks her thin lips, the villainess' nipples are hard, clearly visible through the rubber of her dress her untaloned hand is between her own legs. 'I'd have thought that was obvious.'

Boot Girl steps back and brings the whip up between Pauline's spread legs producing a cry of pain.

Fetishes eyes are glazed with pleasure as Boot Girl hands the whip back to her, her hand is still between her legs.

Lady Simone gives a languid handclap.

'Clever girl. I'd say you're hired.'

'I can train her if you like.' Boot Girl doesn't want to sound too eager but since the opportunity presents itself.

'Oh, I think Lash and Fetish can manage that.'

'She'd make a superb pony and I'm very good with ponies.'

Lady Simone smiles. 'Perhaps. Fetish, when you've quite finished have the slut taken down to her cage and make sure her bondage is very strict.'

'You handle a whip with a degree of skill.'

Boot Girl zips up her boot and looks up to find Lash standing beside her. She is dressing after punishing Princess Pauline.

'It's a skill a girl acquires.'

'Come, I will show you the chateau.' Lash speaks Donan with a lilting accent that, now she is not trying to subdue Hannah by force is somehow quite appealing.

Lash leads the way from the throne room and out into the corridor. This part of the castle is of traditional build, stone walls and floors though plasma globes illuminate the passageways and the windows are sealed with glass. The courtyard is in shadow as they cross it, the sun setting behind the keeps wall shining orange off the high windows of the new towers. Chained and naked slaves are busy brushing the pathways and in one corner boot slaves, kneeling with their arms laced into sheaths behind them are diligently cleaning the guards' boots. A guard passes, leading two pleasure slaves both hooded and booted, one is clearly Angelisch from the tone of her skin and the colour of her waist length blonde ponytail that hangs from the hole in the back of her hood; both girls wear tight corsets and have their arms sheathed, shoulders drawn back so their magnificently enhanced breasts are thrust out screaming for attention; they walk confidently despite the thigh length toe boots they wear, hips swinging deliberately as they strut with the walk of the trained slave. As they pass, Lash nods to the guard who leads them, one via a chain clipped to a breast collar and the other, the Angel by a trinity that pierces her sex and massive nipples.

Boot Girl thinks she catches the scent of their constant and almost insatiable arousal.

Across the courtyard they enter a more modern section of the chateau where rococo style abounds. They walk down a long hallway passing private quarters and a formal dining room before entering the grand throne-room, a huge hall with a number of plinths set along either side that look as if they might be waiting for statues to be placed on them. As they enter, they pass a redhead in a tight blue PVC minidress that makes her look rather like a maid. The girl wears a steel collar form which hangs a chain that runs to shiny wrist cuffs linked in front of her body and then down to her similarly hobbled ankles. She trips past on five inch heels carrying a tablet.

Lash's tour finishes in the bar where she orders Valka a clear spirit that burns Boot Girl's throat when she swallows it. Lash laughs at the reaction and orders two more shots.

They take another swallow of Valka and Lash tells her more about life in the castle, and the organisation of the slave training.

After several glasses both girls are slurring their words.

'So where did you learn to use a whip ?' Lash is intrigued by Boot Girl's skill.

'My mother ran a pony troop.' The alcohol is helping Boot Girl to relax, to forget that the last few times the two met, they were fighting each other. 'I got a lot of practice. Pony's can be real divas when they want to be. It's all those feathers and shiny buckles, makes them feel important.'

'Ha ! Ponies ! Definitely need to be kept in line.' Lash agrees. 'Why d'you leave ?'

'Oh, you know, growing up, moving away, lights of the big city calling.' She doesn't say it was because she seemed to be spending more time in harness than out and that she was on the wrong end of the discipline all too frequently; neither does she say that the final straw came when her mother planned to have her daughter's breasts enhanced to improve her desirability as a pony.

'No, no.' Lash is slurring more heavily after another shot. 'Why d'you leave Harmony and come here ?'

'I told you. It's no place for a heroine anymore. I go in and deal with scum...' She blinks realising the implication of her remarks, 'er, no offense...'

'None taken.' Lash's laugh seems surprisingly genuine.

'...and do I get any thanks ? No, I get fucking arrested and strung up in the palace by that sadistic bitch who's fucking de Renee and then get my tits tazerd.'

'Ouch. So, will you still be Boot Girl while you are here ?'

'I hadn't given it much thought.'

'Perhaps you need something a little more rebellious ?' Lash grins. 'You are a Villainess now !'

Boot Girl laughs. 'How about Boot Bitch ?'

'Boot Bitch it is.' Lash raises her shot glass, her ninth. 'To Boot Bitch.'

Boot Girl, or rather Boot Bitch, raises her glass too and they tap them together before downing the shots.

COMMUNICATIONS ROOM, ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

'Lady Bishop.' Adele's agitation is clear as she sits in the palace's communication room.

'Adele.' On the vid screen, Lady Bishop nods, the statuesque redhead is clad in her usual purple, the tight leather bodice with its multiple straps accentuating her muscular form; her leather gloved arms are folded across her magnificent breasts.

'Thank you for speaking to me, My Lady.'

'I can hardly refuse a direct request from the chief councilor to my empress.' Lady Bishop's expression is stern.

'Thank you, nevertheless.' Adele tries not to respond to the jibe.

'And how fairs her majesty ?'

'Lady de Renee is...' Adele is tired to a point where the diplomatic remedies seem almost irrelevant. '...as well as can be expected.'

'Is there any news on the princess ?' Lady Bishop's question sounds innocent enough.

'No word.' Adele looks up at the screen trying to hide her despair.

'Such a fine young woman.' Lady Bishop maintains a neutral expression. 'I do hope you are able to find her.'

'Yes.' Adele tries her best to remain neutral too. 'I was wondering if you...your agents had...'

'Adele, if my agents had provided any useful information, you can rest assured I would have informed you immediately.'

'Oh.' Adele tries not to show her disappointment.

'You are looking tired, Adele.' There is a hint of amusement in the redhead's blue eyes. 'Is her majesty making too many demands on you ? Perhaps you not getting enough sleep.'

Adele sighs. Dealing with the unrest that is gradually building in Harmony and suffering the effects of her mistress' simmering anger at her the inability to recover the kidnapped princess are taking their toll on the normally stoical councilor. After another evening in the pillory enduring an intense caning to her already aching and tender breasts, Adele has spent the night in a tight hogtie, hooded and chained to the foot of her Mistress' bed; she still wears the new harness her Mistress has had made for her, a tight net of steel wires that bite into her flesh, binding her much abused breasts and cleave her sex so that every movement is torment.

Outwardly, Adele simply wears the rough woolen dress as a symbol of her failure.

'Lady de Renee has much need of my council.'

'I'm sure she does.' Lady Bishop remains stern. 'I understand their is much...disquiet... in Harmony.'

'Yes, I...' Adele hesitates, she is unused to seeking help. 'I was wondering if...you might...be able to assist with the...security situation.'

'Adele.' Lady Bishops' expression becomes stern. 'The sisterhood has been disbanded; Madam Bondage is no longer welcome in Harmony...'

'When Boot Girl disappeared before, you dispatched one of your Valkrees...' Adele is, perhaps not thinking clearly.

'I hardly think a roc circling the skies of Harmony and a northern vigilante, however well meaning would calm the populous.' Lady Bishop raises and eyebrow. 'Besides, I can imagine your mistress' reaction.'

'Roberta, please...' Adele slumpts forward, wincing as her wire harness tightens around her breasts and seems to cut into her sex.

'Adele, I am sure the princess will be returned shortly.' Lady Bishop maintains the voice of reason. 'I'm sure you know your agent reached Chateau Klaw this morning.'

Adele's eyes widen. 'But...'

'Perhaps you did not know.' Lady Bishop frowns.

'But I sent her three months ago.' Adele hangs her head in despair.

'She became...diverted.' The redhead conceals a smile. 'Fortunately one of my agents was able to set her back on course.'

'Thank you.' Adele winces as she moves again.

'Your agent is very capable.' Lady Bishop smiles reassuringly. 'I am sure she will make contact with Lady Simone's...guest...at Chateau Klaw and resolve the situation.'

'I'm sure she will.' Adele forces a smile. Boot Girl might be two months late but at least she is still active and pursuing her mission.

GUARDS' BAR, CHATEAU KLAW, DONIA

Another half dozen shots later Lash and Boot Bitch stagger from the bar arms around each others shoulders for mutual support.

'C'mon.' Lash slurs. 'Let's go and get a bit of slave pussy.'

'Oh, Lash, I'm tired. I've been beaten up by your guards and spent half the morning strapped to a fucking frame.'

'Oh, yeah. Sorry 'bout that.' Lash giggles nearly collapsing. 'Didn't know then you were such a babe ! But that's no 'scuse. Bit of slave tongue before bed is just what you need.'

She drags Boot Bitch to a flight of stone steps and half carries her down. They stagger along a stone corridor lit by plasma globes into a guardroom. There are two leather clad overseers there; one sits in a chair with a naked slave kneeing before her; the slave is a redheaded northerner with pale skin, arms are restrained behind her in a tightly buckled sheath and her head is between the spread legs of the overseer, tongue working diligently; the overseer leans back, her eyes closed, arms behind her head a look of pleasure on her face. The second overseer is fondling the large breasts of a naked blonde who sits on her lap; the blonde's breasts are tightly bound and the nipples clamped, she whimpers through a large ring gag as the overseer squeezes the huge globes and bites one of the large nipples; the blonde wears a steel collar and is chained with her wrists behind her back, her ankles are also chained together.

Overseer 2 sees Lash and stands quickly tipping the helpless blonde off her lap. The helpless slave rolls to the floor crying out at she lands on her tortured breasts. Overseer 1 opens her eyes and reaches to grab the red hair of her own slave.

'At ease, Girls. This is a social visit. I hope you've left a bit of decent pussy for us.' Lash seems very much at ease in these surroundings.

'The Brunette's a bit of piece, fantastic tits and real fit body, but she's on punishment tonight. Mistress Fetish did it herself, beautiful job. You should take a look, Boss.' Overseer 1 grins.

'Her Ladyship has singled that one out for personal treatment. Best you leave her well alone 'Nette. I thought my friend and I could share the ponies.'

Annette grins. 'They're perfectly set up for you. Shall I show you where to find them ?'

'No, I can manage.' Lash claps the overseer on the shoulder. 'Seems a shame to interrupt your work.'

'Thanks, Boss.' Annette keys in the code for the door and reaches down to grasp the hair of her recently discarded toy. As Boot Bitch and Lash step through into the slave pens Annette slips a large breast from her leather bodice and pushes it into her slave's open mouth.

The there are thirty slave pens, steel cages each containing one or more girls in various states of undress and bondage. The cages themselves are enough to prevent any escape as is the locked door through which Hannah and Lash have just passed. However, Lady Simone and her trainers know the value of bondage as a training tool; good girls are rewarded by relative freedom and even the opportunity of sexual fulfillment; bad girls are punished by prolonged, tight bondage and nights spent hearing their fellow slaves enjoying orgasms.

Lash and Boot Bitch pass a cage where two blondes are kissing through ring gags, they kneel with their nipples chained together by piercing rings; one girls' arms are chained behind her back and to a ring in the floor of the cage but the other girl's wrists are chained to her own thighs giving just enough freedom to touch her lover's breasts with her fingers; her other hand is deep between her own thighs but can clearly reach the other girl's sex too.

In other cages helpless slaves sleep, and some that are not blindfolded watch Hannah and Lash pass through, wide eyes over tightly gagged mouths. A number of girls are tied tightly to the bars of their cages, their teeth clamped around on of the horizonal bars effectively gagging them; breasts pulled through crossbars and nipples clamped or chained outside; some are suspended in this position by their bonds and, in some cases a crotch rope. Lash stops to tease the nipples of a pretty brunette bound in this way, setting the weights of the girl's nipple clamps swinging. Lash slips a hand between the girl's spread legs and smiles.

'Enjoying yourself Vanya ?' The girl's eyes move down towards Lash' hand, perhaps meaning yes. 'Want me to turn it up ?' Again the girl's eyes move. 'Course you do.' Lash's fingers are deep inside Vanya's sex as she manipulates the vibrator. Vanya lets out a low moan and then comes strongly. Lash smiles and leads the way further through the cages.

In one cage Boot Bitch spots Pauline. The large breasted brunette is suspended in a punishing hogtie with her ankles crossed and bound between her shoulder-blades, her arms are tightly lashed together behind her back; she hangs by a single rope pivoting slowly, her long hair pulled into a ponytail and used to pull her head back intensifying the bondage, her legs are spread wide and her labia and clit stretched by weighted clamps, two more clamps hang from her nipples and her breasts are tightly bound; she is pump gagged and blindfolded. Boot Bitch can see where the whip has marked the enslaved princess' skin.

'Here.' Lash unlocks a cage door. There are two slave inside both kneeling with their backs again's wooden posts that come up to the level of their shoulders, both are hooded, their mouths held wide by ring gags and the crowns of the hoods are chained to the top of the posts; the girls' arms are locked together behind the posts and their ankles cuffed to them by leather cuffs; the girls are both lean and sleekly muscled, they have olive dark skin and huge breasts; unusually for the pens they are not naked but wear leather half cup bras with notches in for their nipples, both wear tight corsets with leather suspenders connected to thigh cuffs.

'May I introduce Lusty and Busty. They are Lady Simone's dressage ponies but as their name suggests they are also both very horny sluts. We have to chain them apart most nights or they'd wear each other out and be no use as ponies. Slave love can be really hot.' Lash winks. 'It's a good training technique too. Good girls get pleasure. It's amazing what denial can do to the resolve of a lusty slave girl. Fetish is the expert, of course.'

Lash squats down in front of one of the kneeling ponies and begins to toy with the girl's breasts, teasing the nipples; the girl's response is almost immediate, her breathing quickens and her nipples harden almost doubling in size, she moves slightly in her bonds thrusting her hips forward as far as the straps will allow. Lash stands and parts the strands of her costume that cover her sex, she eases herself over the helpless girl's ring gag and a pink tongue darts out to stroke the exposed labia.'

'Oh, good girl !' Lash strokes the hood and gyrates her hips slightly. 'Mmmmm.' After a moment she twists to look at Boot Bitch gesturing towards the other pony. 'Be my guest.'

Boot Bitch smiles and slips quickly out of her costume. The other pony can clearly sense something is happening and is squirming in her bonds. Boot bitch takes the hooded head in her hands and guides the open mouth towards her sex. A warm and apparently very willing tongue strokes her labia and seeks out her clit.

CHATEAU KLAW, THE NEXT MORNING

Boot Bitch's head is pounding and she feels nauseated. The smell around the slave courtyard almost makes her retch as she joins the other overseers releasing the boot camp slaves from their tiny cages and feeding them.

Lash seems unaffected. 'Hey, Boot Bitch, how ya doin'.' She claps Hannah on the back.

'My head is pounding.'

'That's the way it should be and we can do it all again tonight.'

Lash winks and walks away with a swagger, her hips swinging seductively.

Pauline is stretched over a padded bondage horse, spreadeagled, her wrists and ankles locked into leather cuffs that are chained to rings in the floor. She wears a pony bridle which is also chained to the floor by the crown ring. Her bondage stretches her body into a sensual curve that is some relief after the night in intense bondage her young body has been subjected to though her muscles are starting to ache from the new position. Despite this she is feeling surprisingly good; a distant part of her mind tells her that her euphoria is probably drug induced but another argues, as it has done with surprising regularity during her captivity that her pleasure comes from an inherent submissive nature that has become more apparent to her in the preceding few years. Whatever is causing the sensations Pauline is undoubtable aroused.

She hears a door open and from the corner of her eye can see Fetish entering the room. The olive-skinned heroine is dressed in her usual skin tight vinyl minidress that accentuates the curves of her slim body. She is accompanied by the scribe slave who assists Lash with the boot camp slaves. The slave is chained in her usual restraints, made more severe on this occasion by a chain between her elbows that pulls them back behind her. A silver tray is strapped to her body just below her large breasts and she supports this with her hands. The tray bears a variety of instruments including clamps, plugs, vibrators, electrical devices complete with wires and several jars. As usual she has a bit gag locked into her mouth. There are self tightening clamps on her nipples.

'Well, aren't you a lucky girl today ?' Fetish looks down at the helpless slave stretched enticingly before her then reaches down to toy with a nipple. 'Hmmm, beautifully perky. I think we're going to have a lot of fun.' She runs her fingernails down Pauline's belly tracing the outline of her navel before combing through her pubic bush.'

Although she doesn't want to enjoy the treatment she is receiving, Pauline feels her body respond to Fetish's touch, her nipples hardening further, pussy moistening, chest and cheeks flushing.

'Oh, good girl. You're half way there already.' Fetish signals to the slave who approaches with the tray; she dips her hand into one of the pots and scoops out a pale gel. 'Just a little something to get you in the mood.'

As Fetish rubs the gel into Pauline's nipples the helpless princess feels them begin to tingle and swell; the sensation is so intense it is almost painful for a few moments though this is only relative and, given the treatment she has received in the previous weeks, nothing Pauline can't handle. As the pain fades her nipples begin to throb gently. Fetish then spreads the gel more widely over Pauline's breasts massaging it in with strong fingers that, even with her hatred of the women who has punished her so intensely, make Pauline squirm with pleasure. Fetish moves onto Pauline's belly smearing the gel into a line down toward her navel before rubbing more gel into the helpless girl's neck and then touching a small amount to her lips either side of the bit gag. In response Pauline's skin starts to tingle as if being kissed or gently stroked. As Fetish spreads the gel more widely more and more of her Pauline's nerves contribute to the delicious wave of pleasure that is building through her body.

She has experienced traces of this substance before but in nothing like these quantities.

As her pleasure mounts, Pauline feels Fetish begin to stroke the soles of her feet before moving up to her calves and then the backs of her knees. By the time the gel is beginning to work on her inner thighs Pauline is squirming in ecstasy, moaning through her gag.

'Want to come ?'

'.e., .i...e..' It is the best approximation she can manage to 'Yes, Mistress.', her desire to orgasm is so intense it overwhelms any other thought or sensation.

'I can see you do and, in a moment, I'm going to let you, but not yet.'

'Uhhhhhh !'

'Patience, my horny Princess. A little longer.' Fetish is almost brushing the helpless slave's labia and Pauline arches up, thrusting her hips towards the teasing fingers.

'..eas. !' she begs. Please !.

Fetish stops just short of touching the glistening pink folds that are spread so wantonly before her. Pauline moans with lust.

'Good girl ! Just a few more moments.' She reaches out and takes a large dildo from the tray; it needs no lubrication to slip easily inside the whimpering slave. Fetish pushes it in slowly so as not to push her victim over the edge; a rectal plug follows, both being fastening in place by a chain that Fetish loops around Pauline's waist and then between her legs; nipple clamps follow that, like the dildo and plug are connect to the electrical stimulator which Fetish clips to the chain between Pauline's legs.

'I think we're nearly ready, don't you ?' Fetish pauses. 'Of course you do.' She picks up the whip. 'Very well, you may come !' Fetish brings the whip down hard on Pauline's bare breasts and the helpless slave shudders to orgasm.

Pauline's ordeal, if it can be called that, lasts for most of the day. She endures an on-going cycle of arousal, pain and orgasm, passing out sometimes from the intensity of the pleasure she is forced to endure. When her arousal begins to fade Fetish applies more gel to her helpless body even, after some hours, to the glistening pink labia and swollen clitoris. The nipple stimulators and vibrators (which are impregnated with the conditioning gel) continue to tease and arouse her and the whip, similarly coated, provides the final touch to her breasts, belly, thighs and even the soles of her feet, that pushes her over the edge until her mind can barely differentiate the pain it inflicts from the pleasure it brings.

They do it again that night and the next, and the next; after work Lash and the newly named Boot Bitch head for the bar and drink to a state of near insensibility then head for the pens to enjoy the skills of the slaves held captive there. Sometimes they are joined by Jezebel and sometimes by Fetish. Boot Bitch has found Lash surprisingly pleasant company and finds herself looking forward to the evenings of drinking and slave sex but after nearly two weeks even her stamina is starting to fail.

'Isn't there somewhere quieter we can go ?'

Lash looks surprised, almost hurt.

'You don't want to go out ?'

'No, I want to I just don't want to get drunk in the bar again.'

Lash thinks for a moment. 'Okay, I know somewhere but lets go via my quarters first.'

Boot Bitch has never seen Lash's quarters and finds them to be spartan, a wooden futon with no cushion as a bed, a chair and desk and a small cupboard are the only furniture. There are some training weights in one corner and a frame that has been adapted; hanging from it are various restraints and punishment devices. The walls are bare stone though there are hooks present from which decorations (or, more likely, slaves) could be hung.

'No wonder you spend your nights in the bar. Have you ever thought of decorating ?'

'I never thought I'd stay long. I just became used to it.' Lash takes a bottle from her cupboard and two small stoneware glasses that are so thin as to me almost translucent.

'What's that ?'

'Goroban wine, I bought it from a merchant in the market last year. I've been saving it though I don't know what for.' She passes the bottle to Hannah who examines the label; it is written in a script of curled gold letters on black.

'Never heard of it.'

'It's good, you'll enjoy it. Come on.' Lash picks up a small linen bag and places the glasses and bottle inside before slinging it over her shoulder. She then leads the way along a corridor and down a wooden staircase that curves round the wall of a large chamber that must form the base of one of the old castle's towers; from there they pass though a door and descend some spiral stone steps that seem to go on for a very long time. As they descend the air grows musty and damp, there are cobwebs on the wall.

'Where are we going to drink this, the deepest dungeon ?'

'We are nearly there.'

Finally they come to a door in the wall which Lash unbolts and then shoves open. It has clearly been used recently, there are no cobwebs and although it requires a push to open it swings easily and smoothly.

'Take care, it is a long way down.'

Lash ducks through the door and nimbly swings to the side. As Boot Bitch peers through she sees that there is no path beyond, nothing but a sheer drop to a lake below; to her right Lash is climbing gracefully using roots and creepers across the vertical surface.

'Is this safe ?'

'It is not without hazard but you are wearing your boots. I assume you'll be safe if you slip.'

Boot Bitch looks dubious but cautiously reaches out and tests the strength of a nearby clump of ivy that is growing around the door then, carefully eases herself up on to the next toehold.

They climb for about twenty meters, Boot Bitch following Lash with as much caution as she can mask with bravado, before reaching a ledge. The ledge is narrow but comfortable and has been cleared of vegetation; there evidence of a fire and a small cave at the back whence Lash produces a blanket which she proceeds to spread out for them.

They settle on the blanket, Boot Bitch sitting cross legged and Lash kneeling. Lash takes out the wine.

'Your apartment is a lot more comfortable and less dangerous.'

'I like it up here. On a clear day I like to think I can see the towers of Goroba.' She gestures away south beyond the lake to the vast plain stretching unseen into the distance.

'Goroba ? Is that where you're from ? I thought your accent was a little strange.'

Lash nods, opening the bottle and pouring small measures of wine into the stone goblets.

'Short measures !'

'Goroban wine should be savoured.'

'Ok. What do Goroban's say for 'bottoms up' ?'

'I am Kaj'ra, not Goroban. We would say 'Sa'ut' !'

'Sa'ut !' Boot Bitch raises her glass; the wine is dark red and rolls over her tongue in a wave of ripe fruit, she can taste damp wood and smoke. 'Wow. The Kaj'ras make this stuff ?'

'The Pre'stkwe'ins make it. The Kaj'ra are their slave race.' Lash is focussed, deliberate as she speaks. 'We were conquered by the Pre'stkwe'ins centuries ago; they made us their fighting slaves; the Kai'ra were warriors which I think is why my people bore their subjugation. The Pre'stroi came from the far south, the lands of ice, in their airships made from cured hide. I suspect my ancestors were much in awe of them.'

'An ancient airforce. Scary for a primitive civilisation.'

'We Kaj'ra fly too, though on giant birds, 'Rocs'.'

'Like the northerners !'

Lash looks up sharply at Hannah's interruption and the blonde falls silent quickly. 'We still tell tales of the battles. In the end the Pre'stkwe'ins triumphed. As you say they were more technologically advanced than us though are not as advanced as your people even today. We were enslaved and, with the support of the Kaj'ra the Pre'stroi became the dominant power in the Southern deserts.'

'And Goroba's their capital city ?'

'It is their city. What you call the Southern deserts is simply called 'The Land' in the common tongue spoken there. The Land is divided among city states. The Pre'stkwe'ins are the most powerful. Though other peoples still controlled their own cities they did so only at the pleasure of the Pre'stkwe'ins. Even today the Pre'stkwe'ins influence is great.'

'So what's it like then, Goroba ?' Hannah finds herself feeling relaxed, gazing out into the darkness as the stars appear one by one.

'It is a beautiful city of fine towers and high walls, teeming markets, ornate palaces.' Lash's voice becomes soft as she speaks.

'Why did you come here ?' Hannah finds herself genuinely interested. 'Running water and electricity.'

'I am an outcast.'

Hannah looks at Lash in surprise.

'What did you do ?'

'I failed my Mistress.' Lash looks suddenly distraught. 'My Mistress was killed, murdered by one of my own people.'

'Why was that your fault ?'

'I was first slave and personal bodyguard to the Princess Tal; one of the other slaves slit her throat.'

'So you were exiled ?'

'I was sentenced to death.'

'You escaped ?'

Lash looks up anger flaring in her violet eyes although Hannah can see her pain.

'Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt.'

'I was taken into the desert and flayed with whips then left to die.'

There is silence for a moment.

'So what happened ?'

'It rained.'

'So ?'

'In the desert rain brings life. It rains only once in a dozen years. The rain washed my wounds. I expected to die, wanted to but the Land would not let me. So I clothed myself in all that I had, the whips of my executioners and the leather thongs with which I had been bound. It became my penance, my scourge.' She fingers the garment. 'I could not go back to Goroba or any of the other city states so I started walking north. Eventually I came here. La Donna took me on; I had skills that she needed.'

Boot Bitch looks over at Lash who is staring out into the distance through eyes misty with tears. She suddenly feels very awkward and ignorant; all she can do is reach out and put her arm around Lash's shoulders; to her surprise the other girl leans her head onto Boot Bitch's shoulder.

They sit in silence for several minutes. Finally Lash rubs the tears from her eyes.

'I am sorry. I should not have burdened you with my troubles.'

'Oh, come on Lash, that's what friends are for.' She gives Lash's shoulder a squeeze.

'Thank you.'

Boot Bitch pours two more goblets of wine. 'Sa'ut'

'Your accent is terrible !' Lash laughs.

'So what's your name.'

Lash kneels up in surprise. 'I am Lash.'

'No, your real name. Mine is Hannah.'

'Kaj'ra girls are raised in slave colonies. We do not have names. Our Mistresses give them to us when are sold to them.'

'So how come you're called Lash. Is this another penance thing ?'

'I was a very disobedient child. When a slave is disobedient her trainer calls 'La'esh', the Pre'stkwe'in word for 'Whip'; the slave is expected to fetch it and then submit to punishment with it. The word was used so often around me the name stuck. Your word Lash somehow seemed appropriate.'

Boot Girl forces a laugh. 'You know, I'll bet you were a really cute child.' She leans gently against Lash and they drink in silence for a few minutes.

'And you ? You said you grew up in a circus ?'

'A pony troop. We used to travel between the towns and villages putting on shows; dressage, dancing, races, sometimes we'd even race against local pony teams.'

'And were you ever in harness ?'

Boot Girl turns to look at Lash. 'Yes, when I was older. I started off a a groom but, well, the troop went slowly downhill. I mean there must have been money at first, Mum must have been able to afford to have me and my sister; but by the time I was in my teens there wasn't much of a market for pony shows, we had to sell a lot of the ponies and the gear then mum started drinking and we lost what money we had. By the time I was eighteen I was regularly harnessed to the family wagon, she was even training me and talking about hormones to make me more 'popular'. When we came near Harmony one day I'd had enough. I ran away.'

They are silent for a moment.

'And your sister ?'

'Left when I was young. Well, actually mum sent her to school back in the days when we had money. She never really came back. Mum never forgave her. As well as putting me in harness she started chaining me up at night when I came of age, to stop me running away.'

'Did you find your sister ?'

'A... Yes. She lives in Harmony too. We see each other occasionally.' Hannah smiles at the recollection of their last meeting and of Adele tightly bound and gagged with the vibrator buzzing away inside her.

It is dark when they have finished the bottle and the stars sparkle above them. In the distance there seems to be a faint glow in the desert.

'So is that the lights of Goroba ?'

Lash laughs. 'Possibly but I think it is far too far to see really.'

'Oh.' Again Hannah feels ignorant again and lies back to cover her anxiety.

They fall silent for a while until Hannah begins to feel uncomfortable. 'You know I remember stars like this from before I settled in Harmony, more than you could count. When I'd been naughty mum would sometimes stake me out for the night, I used to amuse myself trying to count them.'

Lash looks round and smiles. 'Did you ever succeed ?'

'No. I always fell asleep.'

'When I flew we used to be guided by the stars. When I crossed the desert, knowing how to navigate was one of the things that saved me.'

Hannah sits up again putting her arm around Lash's shoulder. 'I'm glad.'

Lash turns in surprise. 'That is not what you would have said during our previous encounters.'

'No, but then you wouldn't have shared your best wine with me then.'

She can see Lash's smile again, so genuine, for a second slipping from behind the mask of self control she has always seen.

'It has always been a Kaj'ra rule. One should always drink with a friend.'

Hannah leans her head towards Lash. 'I'm glad we're friends.'

Lash turns and, in the starlight, Hannah thinks the Kaj'ra's eyes sparkling.

'We should go.' Lash suddenly looks away.

'Yes.' Hannah agrees rather more quickly than she means to.

Lash stands quickly. 'I'll lead, you can follow.'

'Not a chance.' Hannah doesn't relish the idea of a climb, especially not now the darkness of the rural night has set in.

'Then you'll have to stay until morning. It gets cold out here.'

'I might just fly.'

'I wish I could too.' There is genuine longing in Lash's voice.

'You can, if you like.'

'What...?' Lash's response is uncharacteristically unguarded.

'Come here.' Boot Bitch beckons Lash over.

'You've done this before, I assume.' The Kaj'ra seems slightly nervous as she approaches the heroine.

'Couple o' times. It's not hard. You've got two choices, I can do the heroine carry or you can balance on my boots and put your arms around my neck.'

'I think I prefer to stand.'

'Ok. Feet up.' Lash is very close and Boot Girl can't help but notice how awkward she is as she places her bare feet on Boot Girl's toes and holds onto the heroine's shoulders.

'Gonna have to get closer than that.' Boot Girl throws her arms round Lash's chest and pulls her close. The Kaj'ra's body is light and incredibly firm, Boot Girl can feel the warmth of the other girl and smell her scent like the dryness of the desert mixed with the leather of her clothing, a hint of exotic spice.

'Hold tight.' She pushes on Lash's elbows, forcing the Kaj'ra's arms around her neck. Lash wobbles slightly as she is forced to give up the last tiny barrier of distance between them.

'Ready ?'

'Perhaps I should just climb down, Hannah.'

'Nah !' Boot Girl kicks her heels and feels the thrust of the rockets.

They rise rapidly, faster than Boot Girl had planned, overshooting the cliff and soaring above the chateau. Boot Girl keeps the thrust going for nearly a full minute then reduces power so they hover where the air is noticably colder and the chateau and lake far below. She realises Lash is clinging tightly to her and feels a frisson of excitement. She holds Lash tightly for a moment then gradually loosens her grip.

'I've got you.' She feels Lash relax and ease slightly away from her, looking around.'

'Y'requoi !' A broad grin stretches across Lash's features. Carefully she turns her head looking towards the desert and Boot Girl slowly spins to allow her a better view. Boot Girl has carried a number of passengers and knows it can be difficult to control her flight; Lash, however, seems to be no burden at all, it is as if she balances intuitively. Slowly they complete one revolution.

'Ready to go down ?'

'Already ?'

'Fuel cells are small. Don't want to run out.'

'Agreed.' Lash is businesslike and controlled once again.

Boot Girl cuts power further and they gently descend into the castle courtyard.

As they land Lash lingers for a moment, her body pressed firmly against Hannah's. Boot Girl can feel the texture of Lash's clothing against her bare skin, the swell of her small breasts and the iron hardness of her muscles.

'Thank you.' Hannah experiences a moment like that before they stood to leave the ledge. She thinks for a moment that Lash will kiss her but the intimacy passes and Lash steps away.

'Shall we go to the bar ?'

Lash looks surprised. 'No, no.' She is breathing quickly.

'Lash, are you ok ?'

'Just forgotten how good it feels to fly. Really fly, I mean, out in the wind.' Lash turns and walks quickly away.

'Er, goodnight...' Boot Bitch calls after her.

'Yes, sleep good, Hannah.' Lash's response is clearly distracted.

Boot Bitch shrugs and waits for Lash to disappear from sight before following her back towards her own quarters.

THE SLAVE CONDITIONING CHAMBER, CHATEAU KLAW

The day after Pauline's first conditioning session Fetish returned to work her craft on the new slave. This time Pauline was stretched over the horse on her belly, wrists and ankles chained widely giving Fetish unlimited access to the slave's buttocks back and thighs, and, again the sole of her feet. Again the slave's body was coated in gel and the whip used as she approached orgasm. Fetish used the twin dildo's too, forcing gel into the the helpless girl's orifices. The next day Pauline straddled the horse: legs spread, arms chained wide impaled on a dildo, her breasts tightly bound, nipples clamped, slave gel once again spread across her helpless body as she endured another day of submissive pleasure. And so her conditioning continued, her luscious body driven to increasing heights of sexual fulfillment so that so that, by the time Hannah and Lash were soaring over the ramparts of Chateau Klaw, Pauline has been reduced to a quivering mass of captive pulchritude, begging to suffer any ignominy and perform any submissive act to fuel her craving for orgasm.

She now squirms in bound ecstasy as she teeters on the points of thigh high slave boots held uptight by a pole between her legs that penetrates deeply into her sex. Her arms are pinned behind her back, elbows touching, in a tight leather single sleeve. The sleeve is strapped to a tight body harness that pulls her shoulders back and constricts her waist as well as cleaving her sex in a way that teases delightfully with every movement. Clamps liberally coated in slave gel pinch her stiffly erect nipples and weights swing from them that tug and jerk as she writhes driving her to ever higher states of arousal. She is blindfolded and gagged, a tensely inflated rubber ball filling her mouth and making her drool constantly behind her muzzle. She thinks she is on display and the fact that others are watching her helpless exhibition of sexual submission excites her further.

Orgasm nears again and she struggles harder to reach the exquisite plateau of pleasure more quickly. She has lost count of the number of climaxes she has reached in this training session, twenty perhaps, or twenty five, and wonders how many her body can endure.

'Come you slut.' Her Mistress' voice accompanied by a sharp blow from a leather tawse on her naked buttocks cuts through her revelry and she gyrates her hips again as another orgasm breaks over her captive body.

THE CONDITIONING CHAMBER, A FEW DAYS LATER

Fetish sits behind Pauline cupping one of the slaves large breasts in her gloved hand while she strokes the nipple with one of her steel talons. The slave's breasts are about half as big again as they were when she arrived, the skin over them stretched tautly and the flesh incredibly firm, exquisitely sensitive. The areoles particularly are stretched, the dark flesh apparently straining beneath the girl's enlarged and intensely sensitive nipples. Fetish is thus well pleased with the results of the hormones she has fed the girl. She plans to make the girl's breasts at least twice their original size, close to the proportions of Anastasia, La Donna's favourite slave who easily takes a breast leash and can be chained in place by her breasts. Using such a large dose of hormone she expected the girl to start lactating but this has not happened though, interestingly, the slave's nipples have enlarged hugely, out of proportion to her breasts; they will now take a nipple collar and even a thumb cuff; they are exquisitely sensitive too and Fetish has brought the brunette to orgasm simply by clamping and teasing them over the last few days. Her disappointment regarding the lack of lactation is thus tempered by the girl's other responses, including her utter submission to conditioning.

Fetish is eager to enhance the girl's conditioning, perhaps training her to a state in which she can climax on command. The villainess has only managed to train a handful of slaves to do this but thinks this one will achieve that level.

That the slave is now in a state of almost constant arousal is clear from the way she moves, from her responses to her bondage and punishments, and the teasing of her trainers. Fetish can smell the girl's arousal, hear it in her breathing; years of training and abusing slaves has given the villainess a precise understanding of how such girls respond; the flush of their skin, the quickness of their breathing, she subtle shift in their bondage, their soft gagged cries and the pitch of their voice when they are permitted to speak.

Even after a few moment's teasing she knows Pauline is close to orgasm. To allow her to come would not diminish in any way what is to follow. As part of the conditioning process Pauline will now be able to climax dozens of time a day with almost no diminution in satisfaction and prolonged intense or multiple orgasms at each climax will now be normal for her. However, commanding the slave to control her arousal, to stave off her climax will enhance her submission and give her more understanding of her conditioned state.

For today's training Fetish has chained the slave to a punishment frame so she sits balanced on a slave stool with her legs spread wide. This is very different to the punishment horse that slaves are forced to ride; this stool is coated in ciliated rubber designed to cup the girl's sex teasingly and she sits on it rather than straddling it. The girl's legs are held apart by chains linking to cuffs around her thighs and ankles.

As Pauline moves, Fetish is aware of the muscles in her thighs spasming against their restraints. Her wrists are cuffed and chained above her head, straps around her elbows and upper arms keeping her head forward and preventing her from lifting herself off the narrow seat.

*Fetish strokes her claw like nails down the helpless girl's side making the brunette squirm deliciously.

'I suppose you want to come.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline nods and gives a small gasp as the villainess pinches one of her nipples with a gloved hand.

'Not yet.' Fetish's voice is soft.

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline's voice is almost a whisper, her obedience evident.

Fetish continues her teasing.

LADY SIMONE'S PRIVATE AUDIENCE CHAMBER, CHATEAU KLAW

'She's conditioned.'

'Already ?'

'She's one of the most submissive slaves I've ever worked on.' Fetish smiles at the memory of the helpless girl begging for orgasm almost from the start of her training. 'She'll need ongoing treatment to make it permanent but she's ready for a little time in the stables.'

Lady Simone smiles. 'Thank you Fetish. You've done well. Do you want to train her ?'

'Not really, if I'm honest, can't stand all that prancing and plumes. Any of the grooms could do it, or you could give her to the new girl.'

'Boot Girl ? Are you sure.'

'She calls herself 'Boot Bitch' now. She came with us last night. Seems to have made quite an impression on Lash.'

'So I've noticed. I'll bear her in mind.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Fetish bows and withdraws.

Out in the corridor, Fetish runs a finger across her bare sex, enjoying the slick wetness she finds there. The intense relationship she has forged with the new slave has had an effect on the villainess too; that and the constant use of slave gel; even the most scrupulous of trainers would not have been able to prevent some effect of the chemical but Fetish is not scrupulous about such things and readily enjoys the effects it induces. When not enjoying the fruits of her labour with Pauline, she has satisfied herself with regular visits to the slave pens and though the use of her own slaves. Now, however, she is wet because of the final test she is making the newly conditioned slave undergo. She has had Pauline impaled on phallic pole since early morning and has left Lash's scribe slave counting orgasms. The villainess is expecting the tally to be at least fifty by the time she returns and nearly two hundred by the time the girl is released. If it is not, she will have the pleasure of punishing the scribe as well as the helpless sex slave that Pauline has become.


CHAPTER 6

THE STABLES, CASTLE KLAW, LINDEN, DONIA

She's called 'Willful' Jezebel tells Boot Bitch.

'Oh joy.'

'Thought you were good with ponies.'

Boot Bitch shrugs in resignation. 'Where is she ?'

Jezebel leads her across the cobbled stableyard where grooms are busy harnessing ponies to training gigs. It is a chill morning in late summer and the girls breathe clouds of steam. The grooms in their leather doublets, linen shirts and tight leather trousers are warm but several of the naked ponies shiver, eager to begin their daily routines. Boot Bitch spots Lusty and Busty and feels a tingle in her loins, they are already in harness and still hooded being lead towards an ornate racing carriage which she assumes must be Lady Simone's.

It is her first day in the stables after a month in boot camp. Boot Girl knows why she wanted to come here and recalls her anxiety at appearing too eager to do so but now that reason and her connection with Pauline seems so long in the past that she cannot easily identify with it. However, when she spots Pauline wearing a heavy training harness and blades being hitched to a weighted gig she feels a small pang of guilt.

She is relieved that the princess is blinkered and does not see her.

'In here.' Jezebel opens a stable door.

The girl is chained in her stall; she is clearly from the far south, her skin a shiny brown that is almost black, brown leather cuffs locked onto her wrists hold her arms spread above her head; similar cuffs around her ankles are chained together through a ring in the stone floor. The girl is bridled, an overly large steel bit between her teeth; closed blinkers effectively blindfold her. She is naked and Boot Bitch can see from the condition of her body she is strong and fit. Somewhat unusually she has been shaved (ponies are supposed to have manes). That she is being punished is in little doubt; for a pony to stand chained and bridled all night is unusual; she also wears nipple sticks clipped tightly together so that her pierced nipples are swollen and dusky.

The girl senses Boot Bitch approaching and turns her head towards the heroine, hissing around the bit in her mouth. As Boot bitch steps closer the girl kicks out with a rattle of chain. Boot Bitch avoids the attack easily, ducking under the girl's raised right arm and stepping behind her. The girl's back is a mass of scars; old bruises and fresh welts. Boot Bitch reaches out to touch her with genuine concern and has to avoid a heel viciously kicked back at her.

'Whoa girl.'

The pony shakes her head, crying out and jerking at her chains.

Boot Bitch looks at Jezebel arching an eyebrow.

'She's all yours.' Jezebel ducks out of the stable.

Fuck !


SLAVE CONDITIONING CHAMBER, CASTLE KLAW

Pauline squirms on the tiny rubber seat which pushes inexorably against her, sensitised sex, the rubber is slick with her secretions and cilia constantly stroke and tease her until all she can think about is how much she wants to climax. Fetish's claws roam over her skin the gentle caresses tantalising, teasing, until every nerve in her body seems to be conveying pleasure to her overwrought brain. Before being enslaved there was no doubting her submissive leanings and her most intense sexual experiences have been in the submissive role, culminating on occasions in her losing consciousness and once even wetting herself during orgasm. Her captivity has given her the opportunity to understand this as her nature, her need to be restrained, teased, tormented, controlled even punished. Her day on the phallic pole with the scribe counting her orgasms has given her an understanding of the true extent of her enslavement.

As the villainess' talons tease Pauline's skin and the villainess' gloved hand continues to pinch and tease the slave's nipples, it is only through intense willpower that she has prevented herself from coming numerous times, that and Fetish's almost supernatural ability to discern the approach of orgasm and reduce her teasing. If she had been exposed to slave gel her ability to prevent orgasm would have been negligible but without it she has, at least, some control over her body and thus she struggles to behave in the way expected of a submissive slave. She has almost accepted the assertion that her assiduousness is not through any fear of punishment but rather through a desire to please.

Knowing herself now to be a slave the decision that hung over her with regard to submission or dominance has been rendered unnecessary, and it is thus with a degree of relief that she embraces her state of bondage.

'I am going to pierce you later.' Fetish's gloved hand slips between the slave's spread legs to tease her clitoris.

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline's voice is dreamy in its submissiveness and a smile curls languidly on lips; distracted, she climaxes intensely.


THE STABLES, CHATEAU KLAW

Boot Girl stands watching the helpless pony for several minutes. She knows instinctively that the girl can sense her presence and seems to be waiting her opportunity to strike.

'Can you understand me ?' It is not usual to talk to ponies other than to give them commands. The girl kicks out shaking her chains.

'I'll take that as a 'no'.'

The girl begins to shake her chains violently, jerking against the restraints.

'Look, we've got to work together and I know you can't understand this but you really need to relax. Let's make you a bit more comfortable shall we ?'

Quietly she creeps in towards the helpless girl with the aim of removing the nipple sticks but as she touches them the girl lashes out and Boot Bitch takes a sharp kick in the shin.

'Fuck ! That hurt.'

The girl gives a mocking laugh.

'Yeah. Ha-fucking-ha ! I could just punish your sorry ass. Whip you into submission.' She pauses. 'But I guess that's what everyone else has tried.' She leans back against the opposite wall of the stable considering what to do.

'Let's try something. Kaj'ra. That's you. Understand. Kaj'ra.'

The girls response is, if anything more violent. She growls through her gag.

'I'm guessing you understood that word. How about Pre'stkwe'in ? Is that you ? Pre'stkwe'in.'

The girl's nostril's flare angrily.


SLAVE CONDITIONING ROOM, CASTLE KLAW

Fetish has attached small steel cups to Pauline's nipples and clitoris, wires run to a release control that the villainess holds in her taloned hand. The devices are used routinely in the south to pierce slaves, marking them as property. Piercing is often used as a sign of submission in the north too though this is often done manually by a lover.

In applying the piercers, Fetish has smeared slave gel over Pauline's nipples and clitoris and the slave sits rigid with her eyes wide and her breath coming in little gasps knowing that any movement with push her over the top.

'When you are pierced I will remove your collar.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline is spread on a punishment rack, helpless, her naked body running in sweat. She stares straight ahead desperate not to disappoint her mistress by climaxing without permission. It is an almost impossible task.

'Of course, at some stage you will be branded too.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline thinks she can hold back her orgasm no longer. 'Please Mistress...'

'You wish to be pierced ?'

'Yes, Mistress... Please...please...' Pauline is almost sobbing with emotion at the intensity of her desire to climax.

'You may come while being pierced.'

Fetish presses the control. There are three snaps in unison and Pauline jumps in her bondage, three sharp jolts of pain to her most sensitive areas; she climaxes immediately and intensely, the orgasm spreading through her body from those three points like a warm wave of lust that breaks through her and washes away any feeling other than utter joy.


SLAVE TRAINING COURTYARD

'Lash, I need a favour.'

'What ?' Lash is in the slave training courtyard. A blonde slave hangs by her wrists from a whipping frame her back angry from the beating Lash is inflicting. 'Can't you see I'm busy ?' She raises her arm and directs a blow at the girl's bare buttocks.

'Well, when you've finished being busy I could use your help.'

'It's nice to know I have some value.'

Boot Bitch gives Lash a puzzled look.

'Alright. This one needs a bit more time to reflect.' Lash turns to one of the guards. 'Maria. Ten more lashes and then a punishment tie until morning.'

'Yes, Signora.'


SLAVE CONDITIONING ROOM

'Thank you, Mistress.' Pauline looks down at the heavy steel rings hanging from her new piercings. Her nipples and clitoris still throb despite or perhaps because of the slave gel Fetish has just applied to them. The princess is still panting from the intense orgasm she has just endured and the stimulation from the new piercings together with the slave gel is pushing her towards another.

Miraculously she didn't pass out and is pleased that she didn't wet herself, or at least thinks she didn't. She is still chained to the punishment frame.

'Open.'

Pauline opens her mouth and accepts the large plug of a muzzle. A blindfold follows.

She feels Fetish lift her heavy breasts and then gently tease the tips of her nipples, is sure she feels the cool application of more slave gel; the thought that her nipples may swell so much they burst crosses her mind and she smiles behind her gag.

Then something is pushed inside her sex and pleasure floods through her. Whatever is inside her is clearly coated in slave gel.

Fetish gently tugs on her new clit ring and Pauline starts to come again.


THE STABLES

'Why have you brought me here ?' Lash looks at the dark-skinned pony with distain.

'She's Pre'stkwe'in isn't she ?'

'So ?' Lash shrugs.

'I want you to talk to her.'

'You don't talk to ponies. You command them with the whip and the bridle.'

'Yes, Lash, I know.' Boot Bitch tries to be reasonable. 'I think that approach has been tried already.'

'I have work to do.' Lash turns to leave.

'Just five minutes.' Boot Bitch catches her by the arm and Lash rounds on her anger flashing across her face.

'Her people enslaved mine. They sentenced me to death. Why should i do anything for her ?'

'But she is Pre'stkwe'in ?'

'She is of their race.'

'And you can speak her language ?'

'Yes.'

'Please, Lash, just a few minutes. I'll take you flying again. In fact you can borrow my boots.'

Lash looks at her in surprise. 'Ok, five minutes.'

'Tell her I will make her more comfortable but she must promise not to lash out at me.'

Lash translates.

'Does she understand ?'

'Seq'an ?'

The Pre'stkwe'in does not respond.

'Seq'an ?'

The dark skinned slave nods once.

Boot Bitch moves nervously towards her and the girl turns her head in the direction of the sound. Boot Bitch stops but the captive does not lash out and the heroine reaches up to unclip the nipple sticks.

'You'd better warn her this is really going to hurt.'

'Pas'qua ti'ak lon.' (You learn suffering).

Boot Bitch releases the nipple sticks stepping back quickly as the helpless girl stiffens biting down on her bit gag. After a few moment she reaches up to the remove the gag. The girl licks her lips.

'Ask her who she is.'

'I can tell you, she is a soldier, a scout. Her flyer crashed in the desert. We saw it come down. I am not sure how she survived.'

'Does she have a name ?'

'Give her one !'

'Lash !'

'Qua sik'an loq, ski'lod re ?' (Tell me your name, worthless one).'

'Nyak daq'qua Kaj'ra.' (I don't answer to slaves).

Lash pulls her whip from her belt. 'Pas'qua an ti'ak lon ?'

'Lonez'an !'

Hannah places a hand on Lash's arm. 'Please, Lash. What is she saying ?'

'She will not converse with me because I am Kaj'ra. She told me to kill her. I am happy to oblige.'

'She'd rather die than be a slave ?'

'Pre'stkwe'in are not slaves. Kaj'ra are slaves.'

'Is this some sort of honour thing ?'

'Pre'stkwe'in are not slaves. It is in the word, I cannot translate it.'

'So does being here make her Kaj'ra.'

'I am Kaj'ra.'

'Lash, you're really not helping.'

'I told you, I have work to do.'

'Ok. Just ask her what she wants.'

'She wants to die.'

'Anything else ? AnythingIi can work with ?'

'Hannah. The Pre'stkwe'in are the Pre'stkwe'in. They rule. When we imprisoned her she ceased to be Pre'stkwe'in. She is ush'gimora.' Lash searches fro the word, 'an 'untouchable'. I do not think she will speak to me.'

'Lonez'an, Kaj'ra.'

'Tell her you are my Kaj'ra.'

Anger Lash's face. 'I am not !'

'Lash, I know but you're my friend and I need your help.'

'Tell her I am your Mistress and she is now my slave too.'

Lash translates and to Hannah's surprise the girl nods.

'She agrees ?'

Lash and the captive exchange words while Hannah listens. The captive shakes her head.

'She says you did not conquer her and have no right to enslave her.'

'If I 'conquer' her then she will be my slave ?'

Lash translates again. The captive nods.

'Ok. Tell her I will fight her. If she wins I will be her slave and if I win she will be mine.'

'Hannah, you cannot do that.'

'Why not ?'

'Because...' Lash's voice trails off.

'Just tell her.'

'I hope you know what you are doing.'


FETISH'S QUARTERS, CHATEAU KLAW

Fetish has returned to her quarters intensely aroused. After the pleasure of piercing Pauline, the villainess has just spent the afternoon conditioning La Donna's slave, Anastasia. The big breasted brunette is intensely submissive and can be made to come under the whip even without the aid of slave gel, a state which La Donna maintains by having the slave conditioned about once every six weeks. The girl is thus kept in a state of near constant arousal, her pleasure being released by almost any stimulus. For the days following these week long periods of conditioning the girl has been known come on command and on one notable occasion was made to climax purely at the sight of her mistress.

The afternoon has been spent preparing Anastasia for return to her mistress. After days of constant stimulation and multiple sustained orgasms Fetish coated the girl's skin in slave gel and then forced her to watch as a number of other conditioned slaves in various states of bondage pleasured each other and themselves. From Angelica's response she thinks the slave will again be in a state where she comes on command.

The villainess longs to come herself but, somewhat unusually, has forced herself to wait despite the eager tongues that have been available to her throughout the day from two of the chateau's most submissive and talented slaves. With a sigh, Fetish peels off the PVC dress she customarily wears. Her skin is heavily tattooed, her nipples and breasts are pierced as are her navel and pubic area. The tattoo when it can be seen in its entirety is in the form of a dragon who's tail coils around Fetish's left leg, a rear claw grasps her right thigh and another her left hip and her belly as if reaching for her crotch; the dragon flows across her back enveloping her with its wings, the right foreclaw appearing to pinch her right nipple with its talons while the left stretches down Fetish's left arm ending in claws on her fingers that are tipped by her steel nails; the dragon's neck wraps around her right arm, the head seeming to swallow her wrist. The villainess looks at her body in the mirror, running her hands over her bare skin and then removes her studded leather collar, gloves and boots; she looks at her body again in the mirror, her right hand going to one of her small breasts where she hooks a finger through a ring of her multiply pierced nipples, as she briefly teases herself between the legs with the other hand. Then, taking a final longing look at her helpless slave stretched naked hooded and restrained on the punishment rack behind her she steps out into the corridor locking the door to her quarters behind her.

Fetish presses the door chimes of Lady Devonshire's guest suite and an electronic voice tells her to enter. The villainess opens the door and steps inside. The room is dimly lit after the brightness of the corridor but as Fetish's eyes adapt she can see the Lady Devonshire is sitting in a chair, a glass of wine beside her. The blonde is dressed in her red leather corset, knickers, stockings and Angelisch boots. A maid stands to one side of her and one of her pets, a dark haired Sylph, lounges on the floor at her feet.

'I thought perhaps you weren't coming.' Lady Devonshire's voice conveys her disapproval.

'I was...detained, Ma'am.' Fetish bows formally.

'I dare say you were.' The Angel's tone and arch of her eyebrow suggests she has some idea of Fetish's activities.

'I promised to help you for this evening.' Lady Devonshire indicates the lacing bar.

Fetish is familiar with such devices but walks towards it with little enthusiasm, spreading her legs and lifting her hands above her had to grasp it. Rose, Lady Devonshire's maid snaps the cuffs around Fetish's wrists to hold them in place and then disappears from her view, returning with a number of black latex garments including a heavy corset and Angelisch thigh boots.

'You are familiar with the boudoir costume ?'

'Indeed, Ma'am.' Fetish looks at the rubber clothes with a little more enthusiasm than she felt a few moments earlier.

'I thought you might enjoy it a little more than our formal attire.'

Rose begins by strapping Fetish into a rubber bra with holes for the villainess' heavily pierced nipples; next comes a pair of split crotch rubber knickers which, again she parts to accommodate the brunette's piercings. The rubber corset follows and, to tighten the heavy straps Rose enlists the help of the pet, Beth. They work to strap Fetish in tightly.

'Gently.' Lady Devonshire admonishes as they work their way down the heavy rubber straps for the third time. 'Our guest is not as used to corsets as we are.'

Fetish gives Lady Devonshire a grateful smile as she struggles to get her breath.

Stockings follow, semi translucent latex unrolled up the villainess' legs and then clipped to suspenders from her corset; then come the boots, steel heeled Angelisch boots which hold the wearer on the tips of their toes. Such boots are worn by slaves in Belladonia but are standard dress in Angeland, at least for the aristocracy, a tradition said to date back to an encounter in the Angelo-Sylphic wars.

Finally Rose tucks a short bladed whip into the top of Fetish's right boot and then reaches up to free the brunette's wrists.

Fetish sways unsteadily for a moment then releases the lacing bar before cautiosuly taking a series of carefully judged steps. It is not her first time in toe boots but it is some time since she has worn them and, although she quickly punishes any slave who might stumble even when hooded and bound, she is not completely comfortable in them herself. Rose stands beside her to offer assistance but Beth slinks away to sprawl at her mistress' feet hoping, so Fetish thinks, that she will have the pleasure of watching the villainess fall.


THE BALLROOM, CHATEAU KLAW

Pauline wears a black and red bullet bra and deep knickers, garments of surprising modesty compared to the scandalous garments that are occasionally used to decorate her luscious slave body; she wears a matching suspender belt too and sheer black stockings; she walks, easily now, on black patent leather ankle high toe boots; she is, of course, restrained, her arms laced tightly into a single sleeve that, along with the bullet bra enhances her increasingly augmented breasts; she wears a collar again tonight, one to match her outfit, and a large red ball gag. Like the other pleasure slaves of Lady Simone's harem she is there as decoration, an ornament, eye-candy, though one that can be touched and enjoyed by any of the guests; the soft curve of her buttocks have experienced gentle caresses and a few teasing slaps while her breasts have been touched and admired, the large nipples, mounted for the evening with tiny keepers rather than the large heavy rings that usually adorn them, tweaked and teased until her conditioned body is now in a state of intense arousal. When left alone briefly she glances round before subtly rubbing her stockinged thighs together, increasing her arousal. Like her pierced nipples her clitoris has been relieved of its heavy ring and, if she is honest, she misses its weight. There is a mirror across one wall and she can see the sexual object she has become.

Gaia I look good !

There are four of them, decorative slaves, dressed in a similar manner in keeping with the Angelisch theme of the party designed to honour the visit of Lady Devonshire, the Angelisch ambassadress. Pauline has seen the statuesque Angel in her white corset, stockings and thigh boots parading through the gathering with her pet, clearly a Sylph, trailing on a leash to her trinity, the T-shaped device that is often fitted to Angelish pets linking their pierced nipples and clitoris. The pet's hands are mitted and cuffed to her collar by rings at their tips and her elbows locked behind her; she has a bit gag in her mouth, the ends of which are linked by chains to her pierced nipples at the end of the trinity bar. Pauline recalls seeing the slim dark haired pet, one of a pair, at another party in her mother's palace back in Harmony; though the event was only a few months ago it feels to her that it was part of another life and, although in the first days of her captivity she thought about escape and rescue she has all but abandoned these thoughts now.

The blonde slave whom Pauline saw graduate from boot camp is one of the four 'decorations'. From her movements and bearing it is clear she too have been conditioned though, already buxom she does not appear to have endured quite such extreme breast enhancement as the princess. She too is dressed in a satin bullet bra and knickers though hers are gold and black, a matching corset pinches her waist and holds her fishnet stockings. Pauline looks up to find the blonde looking at her, the girl is clearly aware of the illicit pleasure she is enjoying and winks knowingly causing Pauline to blush slightly as she starts to circulate among the guests once more offering her body for their pleasure.

Many of the guests are dressed in keeping with the Angelisch theme: heaving busts above tightly corsetted waists, long stockinged legs enhanced by the vertiginous heels of boots, some in the Angelsich style but many simply extreme stilettos, there are a few hats and fascinators, an abundance of suspenders, long gloves and throat broaches; slaves are similarly though far more scandalously clad, many following their mistresses on leashes that dangle from collars, nipples and pierced clitorises. Most slaves, as befits their station are restrained and almost all are gagged.

Lady Simone oversees proceedings from her chair on the raised dais at the end of the hall; she is laced into a waist cinching corset that almost spills her breasts over the plunging neckline of her blue silken bodice, her stockinged legs are exposed, the dress gathered in pleats cut in the style of an Angelisch train skirt though somewhat more modestly; her personal slave, Anastasia, kneels beside her dressed similarly to Pauline and the other pleasure slaves though her lingerie is fashioned from almost translucent latex that shines in the hall's lights, the girl's arms are chained high behind her back to her collar pushing her large breasts forward; she is leashed and ring gagged and, from her constant movements clearly extremely horny.

At the appointed time in the evening the musicians start to play and, as previously instructed, the four pleasure slaves ascend podiums to dance. There was a time, perhaps even quite recently, when the adolescent Pauline might have baulked at this but now she has no such inhibitions gyrating her semi naked body to the sensuous rhythms, hips grinding and breasts swaying, she tosses her long dark hair, now almost to her slim waist, pouting around her gag and posing for the pleasure of those watching. As she dances her arousal builds. She is aware of the other girls performing too and once again finds the blonde watching her; almost as one they leap from their podia, landing easily on their toe-booted feet and begin to dance towards each other the crowds parting and clapping as the slaves weave their way towards each other; their bodies are magnificent, conditioned physically and sexually so that when they reach each other there is little doubt of the erotic outcome. The girls initially face each other, their gagged lips close, their nipples brushing together, hips swaying, they gaze into each others eyes then they break away dancing around each other though so close that their bodies frequently touch. The blonde bends forward thrusting out her buttocks and lifting her sheathed arms, Pauline ducks beneath the arms rubbing her breasts and then belly and hips agains the girls bottom, as she stands she pushes her breasts agains the blonde's side and their gagged mouths again almost touch. Pauline can see the other girl's intense arousal and feels her own; she presses her hips harder against the girl's firm buttocks enjoying the intimate frottage and then reluctantly spins away.

As the music dies away the two slaves are left breathless and flushed; they stand facing each other breasts touching through their silken lingerie, hips swaying loins brushing against each other, gags almost touching they gaze into each other's eyes through a fog of lust barely aware of the applause around them as it dies away and all the guests begin to dance to the next tune.

Slowly the music reaches them, it is a slow tune and they can thus move, intimately, barely noticed by those around them, hips now grinding together, gags and lips touching. Their pleasure builds as their silk clad bodies rub and touch; there can be no intertwining of tongues or caressing with fingers yet for Pauline and her blonde partner this is not necessary. Quietly pressed together in a state of submissive ecstasy both girls tease themselves to orgasm; the blonde comes first, Pauline sees her green irises dilate and her eyes lose focus, she waits, smiling inwardly enjoying the other girl's loss of control expecting that they will both be punished for their wantonness; the thought only adding to her pleasure until she can herself no longer stem the tide of lust that is coursing through her.

While Pauline and the blonde slave are dancing so intimately Boot Bitch is talking to Jezebel.

'She's so unreasonable.' She glances over at Lash sitting by the bar a line of Valka glasses growing in front of her. 'She wouldn't even dress.'

Jezebel smiles, a little too knowingly for Hannah's liking though the tall villainess appears distracted.

'She's been like this since I took her flying. Avoiding me !'

Boot Bitch wears a leather corset over her usual costume and a leather choker with a gold ring dangling from the front; she has swapped her usual boots for some cute high heeled patent leather black ankle boots, her first purchase with her salary as a slave overseer. Earlier she has tried to persuade Lash to dress up too. She recalls the scene, recounting it to Jezebel.

'There's still time, we can go to the market.' I said.

'It is what I am. I cannot change.' She said.

'No, you obviously can't.' I said.

Boot Girl stormed out of Lash's quarters at that point.

'I mean, I thought she was fun but she's so repressed.' Boot Bitch tells Jezebel. 'She needs to let her hair down, show her feelings.'

Jezebel arches a painted eyebrow, a harsh dark line on her whitened face and then glances away. Boot Bitch turns to see what has caught the villainess' attention; she appears to be looking at one of the dancers, a redheaded northerner with pale freckled skin dressed in the style of the others though, also rather like Jezebel in a striped blue corset and stockings; though her knickers a a lot briefer, her arms are, of course, tightly sheathed behind her back and she is gagged with a large blue ball. Boot Bitch thinks the girl notices Jezebel and winks.

'Are you listening to me, Jez, only I'm pouring my heart out here and you keep looking at that, admittedly rather cute, redhead over there like you want to screw her sexy little brains out.'

'And that's what you want Lash to do is it ? Pour her heart out to you ?' Jezebel looks sternly at Hannah.

'A little bit of openness would be good.'

'Because you've poured your heart out to her, told her all your inner feelings ?'

'No. Of course not.'

Jezebel smiles and drifts away into the crowd.

'Oh, fuck !' Boot Bitch turns towards Lash and pushes her way through the mass if bodies filling the floor of the castle's great hall. She reaches her target as Lash is ordering another Valka. Lash's speech is slurred, her accent stronger than usual. Boot Bitch grabs her shoulder and pulls her from her stool. Lash looks up and staggers unsteadily under the unexpected assault, surprise and anger showing in her face. Boot Bitch slams her into the wall and heads turn; she can sense Lash's fists balling, feels the warrior crouch regaining her footing, her surprise turning to anger and then turning to action. Boot Bitch grabs a handful of hair, the dreadlocks feel warms and coarse in her hand, and forces her lips against Lash's; she takes a blow to the ribs that is cushioned by the stays of the corset and expects to be knocked away, a knee to the groin or an elbow to the side of the head but suddenly Lash stops struggling, hanging almost limp in her arms; then slowly the other woman's arms wrap around her, pulling her in close; she is very aware of the rough leather of Lash's costume and the firmness of her body thrusting eagerly against her own. She is conscious of sand and desert heat and then of Lash's tongue like exotic spice pushing its way into her mouth

They kiss for a long, long time holding each other as if in some desperate act and then finally break apart. Lash's face is flushed, her violet eyes wide and Hannah thinks she can see surprise, what she hopes is joy, and then perhaps anger or fear. Both girls are panting.

Fetish is also at the ball with her current favourite slave, the Harmony trooper she brought to the Chateau Klaw along with Pauline. The villainess has called her new slave Gwendoline and has trained her alongside, but separate from, Pauline. Gwen has proved herself almost as adept as Pauline though has taken two more weeks to fully condition. During Gwen's training, Fetish has taken the opportunity to have her 'enhanced'; the former trooper has now has considerably larger breasts with large, extremely sensitive dark nipples that, like Pauline's, are now constantly erect and; like Pauline's the girl's newly enlarged breasts are exquisitely sensitive. Following her conditioning, Gwen is, of course, in a state of constant and very high sexual arousal; something which Fetish maintains in this case by extremely regular physical stimulation while keeping the slave almost constantly blindfolded and making frequent use of the sensory stimulation tanks in which the naked bound and blindfolded woman is forced to crawl around on a variety of surfaces exploring her prison with her tongue and bare skin. During such sessions triggering switches with her tongue or activating contacts using metal electrodes on her nipples and clitoris rewards the helpless slave with food or drink or, sometimes, with the use of a vibrator, sexual climax. Gwen, however, is so sexually charged that Fetish is sometimes forced use food or water more than she would like to ensure the girl is fed for, given the choice, the girl will always chose orgasm over food.

This evening Gwen wears a parody of her old uniform in which Fetish likes to see her dressed; the white, almost translucent blouse is silk rather than cotton and, now stretched over her enormous breasts, looks as if it might burst open at any moment spilling its precariously confined contents out of the lacy pink bra beneath; a corset now pinches her slim waist far more than her broad utility belt ever did even on the most important of parades; chaps have replaced the tight leather uniform trousers so that Gwen's crotch and buttocks are constantly exposed and tonight she follows Fetish obediently on a leash through her newly pierced clitoris; finally, the black uniform boots with regulation 4" heel have been changed to shiny toe-boots with 7" spikes. Gwen is restrained with her elbows pulled close and chained behind her back and her wrists locked by a slightly longer chain in front of her; the wrist chain is locked to her clit ring and her hands are mitted. She is held in this arrangement much of the time; Fetish likes the way it forces Gwen's shoulders back and the clit chain keeps her hands under control leaving her bottom and breasts freely open to the whip; most importantly the arrangement keeps Gwen's hands away from her breasts, in fact, since the start of her training she has been forbidden to touch them; Fetish knows she tries, knows how she strains at her bonds when she thinks she is alone striving to reach the huge globes, but all she can do is caress their undersides with the tips of her fingernails when Fetish frees her hands from the mitts in which she usually keeps them. As usual, Gwen is blindfolded, guided by and utterly dependent on her Mistress as she is lead through the crowd on her intimate leash, stopped and started by occasional strikes from Fetish's crop. Unlike many of the slaves present Gwen is not gagged and from time to time, Fetish rewards her with a morsel of fruit, a pastry or a sip of champagne.

In deference to the dress code of the the evening Fetish has dyed the girl's hair blonde though has allowed it to maintain its curls.

Lash is the first to recover, rapidly seeming completely sober. 'Outside, now !' She growls grabbing the ring of Boot Bitch's party collar and dragging her through the door. Hannah staggers after her, senses reeling, utterly unsure of Lash's intent despite the villainess' passionate response to her kiss.

Miraculously, the corridor outside is deserted. Lash rounds on her, violet eyes blazing.

'What the fuck are you doing ?'

Hannah is shocked by Lash's vehemence. 'I was just...'

'I will not be your slave.' Lash is not just angry, she seems almost frightened.

'I don't want you to be my...' Hannah struggles to understand Lash's response.

'I am Kaj'ra !'

'Lash, you have slaves all around you. You use and abuse them every day.'

'Exactly, they are slave, nothing but bodies, tongues to serve their mistresses.'

'Then make me a slave. Your slave...'

'Shut-up, you don't know what your are saying.' Lash grabs Hannah by the hair and throws her onto the floor pulling her arms behind her back. Within seconds the blonde's wrists are bound with a thong from Lash's belt.

'Get up.' Lash is already on her feet, Hannah struggles to follow; as she reaches her knees Lash takes another thong and loops it through the ring in her collar. She gives the leash a sharp jerk and Hannah stumbles behind her, forced to follow her.

Lash leads Hannah to her quarters, pulling her roughly inside.

'Don't you ever do that to me again.' Lash slaps Hannah's cheek.

'I'm sorry.' Hannah mumbles, there are tears in her eyes. 'Please Lash, can't you see how much I want you ?'

'No, it cannot be.'

'Why not ? Don't you want me ?'

An expression of pain crosses Lash's face and she reaches out to touch Hannah's cheek.

'Hannah, I am an outcast. I am not worthy of anyone, least of all you.'

'Lash, that's not true and you know it.'

'Besides, we're both dominant.' Lash's arguments are weakening and both girls can sense it.

'I've always been a bit bi-curious.' Boot Girl flashes her most perfect smile.

Lash's expression softens, she raises her hand again and Hannah tries not to flinch.

'Kiss me once more and then tell me to go if that's what you still want.' Hannah steps forward.

Lash's hand brushes the red mark of the slap on Hannah's cheek and then slowly it slides around the back of Hannah's neck. Lash draws Hannah towards her.

Their lips meet again, not with the violence of a few moments before but slowly, deliberately and then with increasing passion. They kiss for an age, Lash holding the bound heroine, Boot Bitch pushing herself against her captor with increasing urgency. Then, without breaking her lips away from Hannah's, Lash drags Hannah to the floor fumbling with the corset and then stripping the shoulder panels of Boot Bitch's costume from her tiny breasts. Lash's mouth moves to take in a swollen nipple as her fingers strip the remains of Hannah's costume from her hips; it is tangled in a mess of stocking and corset laces but she pulls it free exposing Hannah's loins. Hannah squirms in ecstasy arching her back and thrusting her hips forward. Lash's mouth moves down to Hannah's belly, her tongue delving into the navel. With her wrists bound and her legs tangled in the remains of her clothes all Hannah can do is writhe in delight at the onslaught.

'Please...' Hannah pushes her hips forward spreading her legs as Lash's tongue rakes across Hannah's pussy slavering hungrily over the glistening pink folds that part willingly for it; then Lash's tongue teases her swollen clitoris.

'Make me come.' Her voice is soft, pleading.

Lash pauses for a moment looking at her like an animal then smiles wolfishly as she plunges her tongue back between Hannah's legs. Seconds later Hannah stiffens, crying out at she comes.


THE BALLROOM, CHATEAU, KLAW

Pauline emerges from her orgasm surprised to find she is still on her feet. She is glad she is gagged as she is sure she has not been fully in control of her pleasure. The blonde is smiling at her around the large black ball gag filling her mouth her eyes glowing with pleasure. Pauline gazes back at her very aware of their intimacy, the illicit contact that has given her so much pleasure.

It is hard to separate but both girls know they must, turning away to the music, making their way back to their podia. As they dance through the rest of the evening they steal glances at each other, their minds filling with lustful thoughts as they watch each other's tantalisingly clad luscious bodies dance for each other as much as for audience.

At the end of the evening as the guests depart Jezebel comes to collect the lingerie clad pleasure slaves and return them to the pens. She leashes Pauline and the blonde, leading them with her left hand while she takes the leashes of the other pair in her right. Pauline and the blonde regard each other with lust barely aware of Jezebel's control over them; they are, after all, well used to walking leashed behind one of the villainesses or overseers. The fact that it is Jezebel gives Pauline a small degree of hope that their punishment will not be too severe; the heroine with the single streak of white in her thick dark hair and her heavily painted face is fair and pragmatic, much more so than the sadistic Fetish. Although she has been punished by her several times Pauline quite likes Jezebel, there is something about her slim athletic body and the way it moves that pleases her. Briefly Pauline realises that Jezebel's costume too with it's striped corset, full satin briefs and stockings is very in keeping with the theme of this evening's ball.

They reach the pens and Jezebel returns one of the other two girls to her cage. She does not undress her and does not increase her bondage either; perhaps. Pauline thinks, she likes the way they are dressed this evening. The other girl she ties to the bar of the cage using the leash, cupping her chin in a slender hand.

'Don't go away, Tamzin, you've been flaunting that pert little body of yours in that sexy lingerie all night. I'd say that degree of flirting warrants an immediate punishment in my quarters. She smiles and kisses the girl around her gag. I'll be back.'

The redhead blushes profusely and Pauline can tell the girl is excited by the prospect.

Lucky bitch !

Leaving Tamzin Jezebel leads Pauline and the blonde towards their cages. Pauline knows the blonde's cage is three away from her own and aches at the thought of them being separated. She resolves to ask the other girl her name if she is ever given the chance and takes one final opportunity to snuggle herself against the gorgeous blonde.

'And as for you two. That brazen display of slave lust did not go unnoticed either.' As she speaks Jezebel stops beside Pauline's cage. 'By rights it think a night on the racks with all the trimmings is probably in order followed by a suitable punishment in the morning.'

Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. Somehow the thought of being punished along with the blonde is enough to satisfy Pauline.

'However, I'm feeling rather generous and, to be honest I rather enjoyed it. Kneel, both of you.'

Pauline and the blonde obey immediately, exchanging glances as they do. Jezebel removes their gags and refastens them around their throats then opens the door to Pauline's cage.

'In you go, both of you.'

Pauline and the blonde's eyes widen in surprise.

'Don't make me change my mind by being disobedient.'

Both girls duck their heads, crawling through the low door to the cage.

'And don't make too much noise.' Jezebel turns on her heel and strides away to recover Tamzin.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Both girls call after her in unison. Around them helpless girls look at them enviously as Pauline throws herself at the blonde, the two girls falling helplessly in a tangle of limbs and lingerie.

After an age of frantic kissing, lips locked together, tongues entwined, stockinged legs wrapped together they break apart and begin to explore each other's bodies biting nipples through silk bras and pushing tongues into silken covered orifices. They have soon satisfied the most urgent of their cravings with a number of swift and intense orgasms and, still gasping, use their teeth to undress each other peeling off knickers and stockings, giggling as they try to undo bras and suspenders with their tongues. Mostly naked now, but still bound they settle with their heads between each others legs for a night of lovemaking, tongues teasing and lips kissing bringing each other to slow long lasting orgasms that are among the most intense either of them have experienced.

Wow, I love being conditioned.


FETISH'S QUARTERS, CHATEAU KLAW

Back in Fetish's quarters, Gwen stands awaiting her Mistress' pleasure; Fetish prefers her slave to stand when waiting rather than to kneel, something which earns all new slaves a few stripes before they learn what is required of them. Gwen is still blindfolded and chained. Finally having her alone, Fetish pauses for a moment to survey the delicious and helpless body before her, enjoying the long athletic legs accentuated by the toe boots, full toned buttocks, tiny corsetted waist, huge breasts straining at their confines and the neatly drawn back shoulders with the long dyed blonde hair cascading over them.

'You've been a very good girl tonight, Gwen.'

'Thank you, Mistress.' Gwen's lips curl into a smile of genuine pleasure.

Fetish reaches out and begins to unbutton the tight blouse, freeing the enormous breasts and easing them out of the pink lacy bra that barely contains them; she toys with the engorged nipples, teasing them with her thumb and fingers before slipping one into her mouth and gently biting. Gwen groans, her chest and face flushing, breathing quickening, and Fetish notices her gently rub her thighs together.

'You need to come don't you.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Gwen's voice is heavy with need.

'Very well, but just once.'

'Thank you, Mistress.'

Fetish teases the big nipples and Gwen shudders to climax almost immediately.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Gwen is breathless and husky as she speaks. It is clear she wants to come again but Fetish sees her stiffen resisting the temptation to pleasure herself further and smiles at the girl's self discipline.

'Come along.' Fetish still holds a swollen nipple between her thumb and fingers and uses it to lead her helpless slave across the room.

Gwen follows obediently with short submissive steps on the pointed toe boots. She is familiar with the layout of Fetish's room having been lead around it blindfolded many times and thinks she knows where she is being lead.

'I think you deserve a night on the phallic pole and then, tomorrow, you'll spend your day in your sensory cell.'

Gwen smiles as Fetish positions her over the pole and activates the control; the large phallus rises, slipping easily into Gwen's pussy; the girl gives a short cry and clamps her legs against the pole as the phallus reaches its limit and the cross-pieces on the pole make contact with the inverted V between her the heels and toes of her boots lifting her off the ground. When the slave's heels are several inches clear of the ground Fetish stops the pole rising and bends to strap her slave's legs in place at the ankle knee and thigh; helpless, blindfold and impaled the girl can, of course not escape the penetrating phallus but Fetish does not want her slave to slip in her struggles and injure herself. Next, Fetish gags her; Gwen has a small mouth and even the relatively small ball Fetish uses is a struggle for her to take; but Gwen opens her mouth immediately when commanded and makes no complaint as she takes the red rubber gag between her teeth. With her slave silenced, Fetish takes a pair of nipple clamps on an elastic cord and clips them onto the chained slaves's engorged nipples; the helpless and now, intensely aroused, girl squirms as she does so clearly barely able to control her need for orgasm; Fetish then loops the other end of the elastic cord over a hook on the opposite wall; again Gwen squirms, leaning forward in her bonds to relieve some of the tension in her stretched nipples. Finally, Fetish steps behind Gwen and gathers the soft blond hair into a ponytail, securing it with leather thong before, gently pulling her captive upright and then slightly further so she is leaning back; the thong she attaches to a hook on the wall behind her.

Gwen is now utterly helpless in exquisite sexual torment: blindfolded and gagged; head held back anchored by the thong in her hair which forces her spine to curve and places intense strain on her clamped nipples. Her arms are still secured behind her at the elbows and, though she cannot reach her engorged clit, her wrists are still chained to her clit ring giving her some ability to tease herself but also putting intense strain on her intimate piercing; her hands remain mitted, preventing her from touching her breasts other than to stroke the very bottoms of them lightly with her leather covered fingertips; as well as this she is impaled on and strapped to a phallic pole between her legs.

Fetish looks at the helpless girl; Gwen's breathing is rapid, a mix of pain and sexual arousal that her conditioned body cannot separate. Fetish dips her fingers into a pot of slave gel and gently dabs a couple of spots on Gwen's lips, then her nipples and, finally her tortured clitoris where it is stretched by the chain holding her wrists. Then Fetish takes up a metre long crop.

'You have my permission to come.' As she speaks she strikes Gwen's buttocks hard, repeating the stroke almost immediately; Gwen cries out through her gag rocking on the pole caught in tension between her clamped nipples and tied hair, hands fluttering helplessly jerking against her pierced clitoris as she is forced to realise the limitations and torments of her bondage. Fetish strikes Gwen's breasts with the next blow enjoying the way the giant orbs vibrate in response and laughing with pleasure as Gwen comes strongly, clamping her thighs against the pole.

'Good girl.'

Over the next half hour Gwen comes again and again, crying out through her gag, Fetish continuing to whip her, not hard but repeatedly, Gwen writhing on the pole lost in her arousal, the helpless girl is clearly pulling her hands up to her breasts deliberately, whether to stroke the sensitive flesh with her mitted fingers or tease her pierced clitoris by pulling on the chain Fetish cannot tell; she can also see that Gwen is arching back, her spine a beautiful curve, increasing the strain on her tormented nipples, stretching her breasts; driving her conditioned body to orgasm after orgasm.

Finally, Gwen seems to be tiring and Fetish stops whipping her. The helpless girl's skin is so flushed it is glowing and glistening with sweat mixed with saliva where she has drooled uncontrollably around her gag onto her breasts; her white silk blouse hanging open is completely soaked and droplets are hanging from the girls' clamped nipples, Gwen's chest is heaving with exertion as she gasps for breath around her gag no doubt made more intense by the tight corset pinching her waist and lower part of her chest.

Fetish smiles. 'Good girl.' She strokes a giant breast. 'You may have a few moments to recover and then I'll switch on the vibrator. I think twenty minutes in every hour should be enough to keep you going. We don't want to overdo it after all.'

And while you are doing that I have another matter to attend to.

She dips her fingers into the slave gel again and reapplies it to Gwen's lips, nipples and clitoris then picks up the remote for the vibrator and looks longingly once more at the helpless girl, then she sets the timings and activates the device. Gwen gasps and stiffens biting down on her gag.

'No rest for the wicked, my dear.'

Gwen whimpers.

Fetish gently wipes the excess gel from her fingers onto her own nipples then, still dressed in her Angelisch boudoir costume, walks out into the corridor locking the door to her quarters behind her.


JEZEBEL'S QUARTERS, CHATEAU KLAW

Jezebel's quarters are sumptuously furnished, there is a four poster bed draped with blue velvet curtains; the walls decorated with tapestries and hung with Angelisch baroque style paintings in ornate gold frames; thick carpets and rugs cover the floor. Jezebel sits in a comfortable leather armchair, legs tucked beneath her, a goblet of wine in one hand; Tamzin kneels before her, head bowed; she is still gagged and restrained, still dressed in the dancing costume in which she has been performing.

Jezebel smiles down at her. Tamzin is dressed in a parody of Jezebel's costume, blue striped corset with suspenders and stockings though her knickers are far briefer and she wears toe boots, her collar is blue leather, matching her gag and the single sleeve that restrains her arms. A blue striped top hat, matching her corset is pinned into her hair.

'Music !' Her voice activates the sound system; the sound of heavy guitar fills the room. 'No, something lighter...Mina Sounz... Harmony Nights.' The track changes, a soft saxophone starts, building and falling. It is a popular late night track in nightclubs across Harmony and beyond.

'Well ?' she looks down at her kneeling slave who smiles up around her gag. Gracefully, Tamzin raises to her feet balancing easily, despite her bondage, on the high heels of the boots she still wears and begins to sway gently. As the music builds and becomes more rapid, Tamzin moves more quickly swinging her hips to the increasing rhythm, arching her back and shaking her shoulders; her breasts are not large but, confined in the corset, they swell and fall as she moves brazenly displaying them to her mistress and lover; then she turns and presents the smooth curve of her taut bottom, shaking it suggestively. Jezebel reaches out to stroke the pert flesh, exposed by the brief knickers in which Tamzin has been dressed, before giving it a gentle slap; Tamzin turns in response to face her mistress rolling her hips suggestively and Jezebel reaches to hook a finger over the waistband of the knickers; Tamzin shakes her head playfully pulling away and bending to show her breasts again.

As the music fades Tamzin drops to her knees in front of her mistress; she is breathing heavily from the exertion around the gag; her face and chest are flushed.

Jezebel puts down the wine and claps her gloved hands together then she leans forward and unbuckles the gag refastening it behind the kneeling girl's neck so the large blue shiny ball sits beneath Tamzin's chin.

'Good girl.' Jezebel picks up the wine and gives her slave a sip. Tamzin bends forward placing her lips against the goblet and taking a small mouthful; she savours the wine for a moment before swallowing it and then licks her lips suggestively.

'Thank you, Mistress.'

Jezebel straightens in the chair, placing her booted feet either side of the kneeling girl and takes hold of her head. The two women kiss, a long deep intimate exchange that leaves Jezebel nearly as breathless as her slave.

'I'm going to have to punish you now.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Tamzin cannot keep the excitement out of her voice.

'Tell me. How are you enjoying the jewelry I gave you.'

Tamzin pouts. 'I didn't enjoy being pierced but, now I am, I like it. Though having things on my nipples and clit does get in the way. I mean now I've been partly conditioned, I have certain needs and with these piercings it's hard for anyone to stimulate my nipples, I quite miss having them clamped.'

'That's why I had the stimulators fitted to them.'

'Oh yes, that I like. I know when they go off you're thinking of me. When I'm all alone in my cage being punished I get a sudden buzz and I think of you.'

'All alone in your cage ? Does that happen often ?'

No, not often. In fact the Lady Simone has been using me a lot recently. Anastasia is being reconditioned and La Donna's been asking for me.'

'Again ? Simone has Anastasia topped up every month, she must be the horniest slave in Linden.'

Tamzin smiles. 'Yes, she probably is.' She grins mischievously. 'Well, one of them.'

They both laugh and Jezebel kisses her again.

'In fact, Mistress, I've noticed that every time I'm with Lady Simone my vibrators start.'

Jezebel grins. 'And what does the Lady Simone say ?'

'She usually uses it as an excuse to punish me.'

'Sounds a little unfair.'

'I don't really mind, Mistress. It means that whatever Lady Simone does to me, I think about you.'

Jezebel smiles knowingly. 'Does it really ?' She kisses Tamzin again and slips her hand into the top of the corset the slave wears, easing out a firm breast capped with it's jeweled cone. She bends to kiss it. 'Who'd have thought ?'

Tamzin squirms a little, her excitement rising.

'Don't forget your punishment.'

'No, Mistress.' Tamzin voice is trembling now at her Mistress' touch and the thought of what is to come. The reminder of her punishments by Lady Simone while Jezebel teases her remotely have aroused her further.

'Cane or crop ?'

'Cane, please, Mistress.'

'You know what to do !'

'Yes, Mistress.' Tamzin rises smoothly to her feet and walks to the bondage horse beside the bed and bends over it.

Jezebel stands and takes a light cane from a rack on the wall.

'Mistress ?'

'Yes, Slave.'

'It's just...' Tamzin's voice takes on a slightly coy tone. 'It's just I enjoyed being dressed like this tonight. I wanted to thank you.'

'Nothing to do with me.' Jezebel smiles. 'I suspect it was down to Fetish.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, Mistress. I didn't mean...'

'You look very fetching, and I'm glad you like it, I might even buy myself a hat like that, it has a certain something, but I must have a word with Fetish about those knickers.'


CHAPTER 7

THE GUEST QUARTERS, CHATEAU KLAW

At a signal from Lady Devonshire, her maid, Rose, lifts the covering to reveal a cage. The girl confined within is an Angel though, judging by her honey blonde hair and fuller form, not one of high birth like Lady Devonshire though the girl's creamy skin tone is close to that of her owner. Unusually her hair is curled and Fetish take this to be an affectation pertaining to the girl's obvious status as a pet. The captive sits on the floor of the cage with her wrists chained above her head through the bars at the top of the cage her blue eyes wide and blinking in the light.

Rose releases the chain linking the girls wrists and opens the door signaling for the blonde to crawl out. The girl obeys, crawling on her hands and knees, her mass of curly blonde hair cascading around her shoulders and trailing on the floor. She is dressed, decorated might be a more apt description, in steel harness. There is a high collar in shiny steel decorated with gold bands around her neck and a broader one around her middle that corsets her dimpling her creamy flesh; the steel collar and belt support breast cuffs on fine chains though, given the size of the girl's breasts the chains are probably only decorative or, perhaps to prevent her removing them if left alone unrestrained; the cuffs press tightly into her breasts and keep the skin a dusky pink colour; four chains run from each breast cuff dimpling the skin to smaller cuffs that gently pinch her huge nipples. There is a single chain down the girl's back between her collar and belt with a large ring that can clearly be used to leash and control her when she crawls on all fours or perhaps to restrain her wrists high up behind her back to punish her or allow free access to her luscious body. From the back of the belt two chains run across the side of her full buttocks to matching thigh cuffs while two more, support the thigh cuffs in front of her body; the latter two quite taught despite the girl's position suggesting that if she stood up they would prevent her from standing completely upright. The thigh cuffs are chained to the girl's ankle cuffs forcing her to balance on her knees when she crawls and, Fetish observes, displaying the soles of her feet as easy targets for punishment. That the girl is punished regularly is clear from the bruises across her body, some clearly displaying evidence if the implement that made them.

The girl drops back onto her knees, bowing her head as much as she is able in the high steel collar and placing her hands behind her neck in a way that displays her huge breasts beautifully. She is clearly lactating, little beads of pale white forming on her enormous pink nipples and trails of it across the creamy skin of her breasts. Her nipples have a single piercing, horizontal, supporting a trinity, the lower chain of which glints between her spread thighs. Fetish notes that, aside from the hair on her head the girl has been shaved, a Belladonian affectation and a deep humiliation for an Angel.

The blonde is pretty, a slightly fuller face than the average Angel with cheekbones that are almost Donian; her lips have been augmented enhancing this effect. Fetish is reminded of Gwen's triangular face. This is where the similarity ends, of course, the girl's eyes are bright blue and her long lashes blonde to match her hair.

'You are training another pet, My Lady.' Fetish inspects the girl carefully finding her exquisite, the pale colourings of the Angel combined with the body and face of a Bellanian.

'She is a gift, Fetish.'

'Then whomsoever you bestow her upon is most fortunate, My Lady.' Fetish smiles ingratiatingly. 'I believe you mentioned your plan to journey south to the city states. I expect and exotic such as this will be highly prized.'

'I do not plan to take her south Fetish.' Lady Devonshire smiles. 'I bring her as a gift for you.'

'My Lady.' Fetish is genuinely touched. 'I cannot accept something so precious.'

'You would offend me if you did not accept, Fetish.' There is a harshness in Lady Devonshire's tone that will accept no arguement.

As she speaks, Lady Devonshire gently extends a booted foot.

'Thank you, My Lady.' Fetish understand the trade that is being made here and cannot refuse, even if she chose to do so. She falls to her knees and places her lips against the shiny red leather of Lady Devonshire's boot watched closely by the blonde aristocrat's ever present pet.

'I trust you find her to your satisfaction.'

Fetish looks down at the kneeling blonde. Everything about the girl is delightful from the curls of her hair to her full form and especially her massive breasts. While Fetish has been pledging her allegiance to Lady Devonshire the droplets of milk forming on the girl's huge pink nipples have increased, coalescing and beginning to run down her body.

'You're dripping, my dear.' Lady Devonshire speaks to the kneeling girl who responds by cupping one of her enormous breasts and lifting it to her mouth then licking the milk from her nipple with a tongue that is surprisingly large. As she does so the girl shudders in a way Fetish thinks is the result of pleasure. She repeats the process with the other breast.

When she has finished she returns to her display posture.

Fetish bends to examine one of the girl's huge pink nipples, wiping away another drop of milk already forming there. The girl watches with her large blue eyes.

'As you can see, she is a Milk Angel.' Lady Devonshire strokes her fingers across the other nipple then takes the nipple cuff between her thumb and forefinger, squeezing it gently. There are three soft clicks as the band tightens.

'This is probably the best way to punish her.' Lady Devonshire ratchets the other cuff tighter. 'I'm told it is an exquisite torture, with no egress for the milk, in an hour her breasts will be aching and in three she will be writhing in agony, something that can only be relieved by suckling her.

Fetish looks at the milk on her fingers and holds them out to the kneeling slave. 'I had hoped my current slave would lactate.' The girl's large tongue slips out quickly licking them clean. It is surprisingly rough and Fetish almost pulls her hand away.

'Quite rough, isn't it ?' Lady Devonshire is enjoying her new vassal's surprise.

Fetish nods.

'She certainly has the tits for it, your pert blonde, but I think lactating is quite rare in non-Angelisch girls.' Lady Devonshire grins conspiratorially. 'And I assume she's not a natural blonde.'

'Indeed not, My Lady.'

'I could provide you with some of our Angelisch hormone. It is less refined than the Belladonian equivalent and is more likely to induce milk production.'

'I am very grateful, My Lady.'

'Of course, it probably won't make her a milk Angel or whatever you'd call a lactating Bellanian but you could use it until you tire of her and keep them as an almost matching pair.'

Fetish enjoys a frisson of excitement at the concept of the two lactating blondes.

'I could perhaps make some enquiries on my trip south.' Lady Devonshire retires to her armchair. 'The city states have been manipulating slaves for hundred of years based on their cloning technology. They can create all sorts of exotic specimens; I dare say making one turn permanently blonde and produce a little milk would be a simple task.' Lady Devonshire's brunette pet choses this moment to rise to her haunches and place her head on her mistress' lap, the Angel strokes her hair idly.

'I would not wish to put My Lady to any more trouble.'

'It would be no trouble for a loyal retainer such as yourself and I would advise that one cannot beat a furred slave on a cold desert night. This one's tongue is enlarged like one of their animal slaves.' Lady Devonshire gestures to the kneeling blonde. 'It's quite delightful, I can assure you.'

'She is fully conditioned I assume ?'

'Of course.' Lady Devonshire offers Fetish her dress whip. 'She has been conditioned in the Angelisch manner, which I believe is rather more brutal and prolonged than the Donian process. We do not use slave gel and, as you are aware, our nipple paste works by a different mechanism.'

Fetish smiles. She is familiar with the effects of Angelsich nipple paste, of its irritant effect and, when applied to a woman's erogenous zones its ability to produce prolonged and intense stimulation. A girl who has been subjected to repeated application of the paste to her body is intensely sensitive to any stimulation and a girl who has undergone Angelisch conditioning will have been trained to climax forty or fifty times per day under threat of the whip.

Fetish understands now that in licking her own nipples girl would have been stimulating herself, particularly if she had been chained in the cage for some time and denied orgasm.

'She's not too buxom for you ?' Lady Devonshire indicates for Fetish to sit.

'Not at all, My Lady.' Fetish sits and accepts a glass of port from Rose. 'I only wish I could get a few pounds onto Gwen's hips but she's one of the randiest slaves I've had excepting, of course the princess. She'd eat pussy and nothing else all day long if I let her. I could keep her in closer chains, I suppose, limit her activity and force feed her but I like a firm body too.'

'You'll find this one's body firm enough. I've kept her physically conditioned and been careful with her diet.' Lady Devonshire beckons Fetish to lean a little closer and lowers her voice. 'The restraints are welded in place, she been in them about six months.' The aristocrat glances at the kneeling girl. 'And I should mention I've had her vocal cords removed. Pets in Angeland are rarely, if ever, required to speak.'

Fetish looks across at the kneeling girl wondering what she may have done to offend the aristocrat to be condemned by one of her own people to a lifetime of such abject slavery.

Fetish returns to her quarters close to dawn with the blonde crawling beside her. For the last hour of her talk with Lady Devonshire the girl had become increasingly restless, shifting on her knees, her breathing quickening. At first Fetish had thought the girl was simply horny but then she noticed the skin of the the slave's breasts was shiny and red.

'You may need to suckle her when you get back to your quarters.' Lady Devonshire warned as she left.

Gwen is, of course, where Fetish left her, impaled on the pole, her back arched and her chest thrust out, her bondage a beautiful predicament. Her scent fills the room and her skin glows, shining in the low light with its coating of sweat and saliva. She has clearly just finished a period of stimulation and her chest is heaving, her breathing harsh around her gag.

Beside her, Fetish is aware of the new slave, Daisy as Lady Devonshire called her dropping back onto her knees and lifting her hands behind her head, her bonds preventing her from rising even if she was aware of Fetish's preferences. The villianess looks down to find the girl looking up at her imploringly with wide blue eyes. She thinks the girl's lips form the word 'Please' but no sound comes out.

Fetish crouches with a creak of leather, still slightly awkward in the Angelish heels. She gently strokes one of the girl's huge breasts; the skin is hot and stretched, shiny. Daisy looks up imploringly with her huge blue eyes so beautifully framed in her long blonde lashes and then down at her tortured breasts. Her hands are, of course free but she makes no attempt to release the nipple collars herself.

The pain in the blonde's face is evident and again her lips form a silent plea. Though Fetish is used to punishing slaves on a whim she has some understanding of the pain Daisy is enduring and reaches up to loosen the nipple collars. She expects milk to flow immediately but nothing happens and then she recalls Lady Devonshire's words. She bends forward and takes one of the girl's huge nipples in her mouth. Daisy winces but does not pull away then Fetish begins to suck at the nipple running her tongue over the swollen flesh. She hears the girl's breathing quicken and then her mouth fills with the sweet fluid. She suckles for several minutes and then repeats the process with the girl's other breast.

When Fetish pulls away the girl is smiling at her gratefully, blue eyes shining; she is also breathing very hard and her face is flushed. The girl's eyes flick up towards Gwen and then she pushes her chest forward suggestively, her long tongue stretching down towards her breasts.

'I think you'd better help me out of these Angelisch clothes.'

The girl grins mischievously and shakes her head.

'I take it you don't want those nipple cuffs tightened again.'

Daisy's eyes widen and shakes her head again more forcefully this time. Then the blonde leans forward, her long tongue flicking across Fetish's right nipple where it pokes through the rubber bra.

'Think you can do it without undressing me ?'

Daisy nods and gives Fetish's right nipple her full attention, raking her rough tongue across it.

Fetish slides her hands into the girl's lush blonde hair enjoying it's soft curls.

As her Angelisch pet suckles her new mistress it is clear the blonde is rubbing her own nipples on the tops of Fetish's rubber boots.

'I might punish you if you come before I do.'

Daisy shakes her head in a way Fetish is beginning to find very appealing.

'I am going to restrain you though.' Fetish reaches behind the pets head and guides her right arm round and down to the large ring in the chain at her back between the collar and steel belt, clipping the cuff in place. She then secures the girl's left wrist.

Fetish likes her slave to be utterly dependent on their mistresses.

Then she drops forward onto her knees and pulls Daisy's mouth across to her other breast.

Fetish is sitting in a leather chair in her quarters with her feet on the back of her new pet. The villainess is naked once more, the girl having undressed her with her teeth in between raking her tongue across her new mistress' body for the last few hours of the night bringing her to several orgasms both before and after stripping her. Fetish was, however, grateful to Lady Devonshire for dressing her in the split crotch rubber knickers as well as the peephole bra. The Angelisch aristocrat's assessment of the girl's ability and her adaptations has proved entirely correct and the new pet's tongue has left Fetish extremely satisfied.

The villainess sips coffee from a mug and watches Gwen squirming inside the stimulation tank. The slave is naked and restrained as she usually is, elbows behind her back, wrists chained together and to her clit ring; her hands are mitted and she is blindfolded; the only addition to her bondage is and ankle chain connected to her elbow restraint that pulls her legs up behind her, effectively hog-tying her.

Gwen has found the electrodes that activate the water tap and has knelt with nipples pressed against them while she presses the tap with her studded tongue to slake her thirst. Lying on her belly she has then opened the door to the second tank and is currently crawling through the connecting tunnel, her progress slowed by the bondage, her sensitive breasts and nipples forced to endure the sensations of fur, leather, rubber and rough hessian. If she moves six inches in a minute the vibrator inside her activates teasing her liberally gelled pussy to the point of orgasm, if she is too slow her sensitive nipple receive a shock via the electrodes that pierce them.

Fetish looks down at the kneeling Angel gently teasing the girl's curvaceous rear with her crop. There are fresh bruises where she has whipped the blonde for coming without permission, something which only seemed to excite the pet further, augmenting the pleasure she seems to derive from rubbing her dripping nipples on pretty much anything she can. Fetish's boudoir Angelisch costume, now scattered in the floor is smeared with milk and she can smell it on her naked skin too. There are two small dark patches on the carpet beneath the girl's breasts.


SLAVE GYMNASIUM, CHATEAU KLAW, LINDEN, DONIA

'Lower !' Jezebel raps her cane on Pauline's thigh and the naked girl grimaces, lowering her stance. 'And keep your hands up.'

Jezebel is training Pauline to fight. She can see the girl's skill in the Angelisch style and the moves Lash has shown her though her fighting style lacks the focus of one experienced in real combat. Her stance is good but Jezebel wants her student crouched deep to develop strength and stamina. Pauline is naked aside from heavy bands of steel around her wrists, and, currently gagged following a disagreement with her trainer. She is flushed and her body glistens with sweat; there are several marks on her breasts, back, belly and limbs similar to the one Jezebel has just made on her thigh; these are a testament to Jezebel's exacting standards.

'Front stance.' Jezebel moves to stand in front of her charge.

Pauline moves smoothly keeping her hands high.

In a blur of motion Jezebel drops and spins sweeping Pauline's forward leg away and knocking her to the ground. The surprised girl lands with a thump, grunting through her gag, as Jezebel rises smoothly to her feet.

'Up.'

Pauline springs up, anger flaring, her pride more injured than her body.

'Strike.'

Pauline lunges again, careful of committing her weight, her finger tips are extended in a spearhand strike. Jezebel avoids, bobbing down and launching her shoulder up into Pauline's ribs underneath her outstretched arm and an attempt to lift her student and unbalance her but Pauline's stance is stable.

'Good. Another few weeks and I might even let you loose on Tamzin.' She glances over at her slave who is kneeling watching the lesson. It is well known and, the subject of much gossip around the Palace, that Jezebel has started to train her slave in fighting techniques. Tamzin is naked, her wrists cuffed in steel training mitts, arms outstretched; the training mitts are fastened by leather thongs to the top of two poles that are about the height of the kneeling girl's shoulders; the poles are electrified and wires run from them to Tamzin's nipples; if she touches one of the weights to the top of the pole she receives a shock. Tamzin's hair is in side plats today held together by leather thongs that are tied to her nipples; if she moves her head to look at her arms the movement will stretch her nipples and trigger the shocks too. Her eyes are wide over her ball gag and her face shows the strain of maintaining her position. Like Pauline, Tamzin's skin is flushed and shines with sweat.

'Think you can take her ?' Jezebel asks her slave.

Tamzin makes a small, careful shake of her head and her left hand comes dangerously close to the pillar over which it hovers. The palace rumours state that Jezebel enslaved the petite redhead at the woman's own request and that the enigmatic villainess is utterly besotted with the woman; they state too that Tamzin was an academic before being enslaved, an expert in cloning. It is known she has undergone extensive training as a slave but is not yet as intensely conditioned as many other slaves in the chateau although this is something she fervently desires, wishing for nothing more than an ability to come on command for the mistress who intrigues her so deeply and whom she loves so intensely. Despite her submission, Tamzin appears to retain a sharp mind and, to the surprise of all who are aware of the strange relationship,appears to be able to manipulate her mistress by a combination of wit, intellect, submission and sexual flirtation. Tongues now wag in speculation as to how she has now persuaded her mistress to put her through an intense regimen of physical training.

Jezebel blows her a kiss and turns to Boot Bitch who is also watching. 'How about you BG ? Recon you can can take her ?'

The blonde heroine smiles. 'Easy.'

Pauline looks at Hannah a little reproachfully.

'So what can I do for you BG ?' Jezebel knows the heroine turned villainess is not just at the training session out of interest.

Hannah looks round nervous to explain her situation in front of others.

What the hell.

'I need a bit of training, Jez, and, well, you're easily the best.'

'BG, I'm flattered. Who's the luck girl ? You haven't fallen out with Lash again have you.'

Hannah looks surprised. 'No. Well, nothing more than usual. I, er, I made a deal with the black-skinned pony. I promised to fight her.'

'Bit rash don't you think. Them southerner's are real kick-ass bitches.'

'That's why I need you.'

'Ok.' Jezebel smiles. 'Show us what you got.'

Hannah stretches down touching her palms to the floor, her legs are perfectly straight.

'Hey, I didn't ask you to flirt with me.'

Boot Girl's perfect bottom is another subject of gossip within the chateau.

'I think someone might make you answer for that comment later.' Hannah glances at Tamzin who glares back angrily and then jumps as her left hand touches to top of the pole causing a shock to her left nipple.

'Slave.' Jezebel looks at Pauline. 'Kneel and learn.'

Pauline smiles around her gag and drops to her knees spreading them wide and placing her hands behind her back and thrusting out her chest, an utterly submissive gesture from the conditioned slave that simply screams a desire to offer her voluptuous body to anyone who wishes to take it. The conditioned brunette is breathing hard though her gag, her huge breasts rising and falling regularly from the exertion and saliva has dripped onto them from her gagged mouth.

Jezebel turns back to Hannah.

'Ready.'

Boot Bitch smiles and drops into a fighting stance.

'Very Angelish.' Jezebel takes an opposite stance raising her guard. She is a head taller than Hannah.

They face for several moments before Jezebel feints with a high blow and drives in low with a kick. Hannah sidesteps and counters with a spinning sweep that aims to knock Jezebel from her feet. Jezebel rolls clear and comes up into a crouch.

'Nice. Do I detect a touch of 'northern'.'

Hannah raises her stance driving in with jabs and follows with an instep kick towards Jezebel's face before jumping and spinning, her fists and elbows flying. Jezebel ducks clear bringing her legs up to catch Hannah in a scissor grip, rolling to force her to the ground.

Hannah lies on her back struggling for a moment and Jezebel squeezes her powerful legs together. Hannah hammers her fists into Jezebel's thigh and then, half sitting delivers a blow to the taller girl's back. Jezebel releases and Hannah rolls clear.

They both spring to their feet and circle each other.

The fight has continued for nearly fifteen minutes and Boot Bitch is panting. Jezebel is breathing heavily but clearly far less tired despite her morning's training. Keen to finish the bout Hannah moves in and Jezebel grabs her wrist, pulling her opponent in and turning to deliver a sharp elbow to the ribs, she drops and pulls the winded girl over her shoulder dropping to pin her to the floor with her knee across her throat.

Hannah taps Jezebel on the knee but the brunette doesn't release, she simple pushes down harder.

'Gaia, Jez. You win.'

Jezebel pushes down harder.'

'Ugggh. Jez !' Hannah flails around she can see Pauline kneeling, gagged, watching her, eyes wide; for a moment the slave does nothing then, uncertainly starts to rise.

'Kneel, slave.' Jezebel's voice is compelling and Pauline sinks obediently back to sit on her heels, her body responding almost unconsciously to her trainer's command.

Hannah can feel herself weakening as Jezebels shin presses still harder on her neck. She struggles futily; Jezebel is bigger and stronger. Hannah's vision starts to darken. Frantically she searches for escape; she is pinned down and cannot exert any force.

A heavily guarded fortress requires an army...

Hannah lashes out with fast strike to Jezebel's face with left hand. The blow is not heavy but by turning her body she just manages to catch Jezebel's nose causing her to snap her head back, a second strike is harder and catches her opponent on the rebound. Blood runs from the brunette's nose and Hannah reaches up grabbing the other woman's long dark hair. Rolling she pulls Jezebel over and ends up sitting astride her chest.

Jezebel is smiling.

'I never thought you had it in you.' Jezebel lifts her hands above her head seductively. 'I'm all yours if you want me Boot Bitch.'

Hannah laughs and stands.

'You're not my type. Just train me.' She reaches down and helps Jezebel to her feet.


LASH'S QUARTERS, CHATEAU KLAW

Boot Bitch and Lash are in the hot tub on Lash's verandah. It is the evening after the party and after a night of intimacy Hannah is sensing a discomfort in her lover to match her own. She sinks down in the steaming water enjoying the way it is massaging her muscles which ache after an afternoon's training with Jezebel.

'It is...' Lash looks over Hannah's head at the hills to the north. 'It's fair I should ask you about the nature of our...relationship.'

'Relationship ?!' Hannah has said it before she can stop herself. She sees an expression of shock on Lash's face then fear then a flash of anger.

'I should not have raised it.' Lash's race is reddening she turns away.

Oh, well done, Hannah ! Open your mouth and put your boot straight in it.

'Lash, I'm sorry.'

Lash stands, the water dripping from the twisted leather of her costume.

'Do you ever take that off ?'

Both boots, firmly in and you wonder why nobody loves you.

'You know I don't.'

Hannah recalls the way the garment parted easily to allow her tongue through to pleasure its wearer, recalls how Lash used its fibres to bind her, even to whip her, recalls the firm lean sculpted body beneath as it pressed against her seeking satisfaction. She knows she wants Lash even though it will make her task here far more complicated and cannot end well. The thought makes her angry.

'Lash ! Sit down.' Hannah's her ire spills into her tone.

Lash turns almost snarling. 'I was under the belief that I was the dominant partner.' Her hand is raised to strike.

'Please.' Hannah opens her blue eyes wide showing her dimples to their full effect in a way she knows melts hearts. She drops to her knees in the bubbling water. 'Mistress.' She flutters her eyelids and reaches out to touch her lover.

'I am sorry.' Lash sits her voice carries a tone of irritation. 'Though I have lived much I still find the social cues of the north difficult.' Hannah thinks she can see tears starting for form in Lash's eyes but perhaps it is just water splashing into them.

Ok ! Feelings ! That's good !

Hannah takes Lash's hand and kisses it. The palm is rough and calloused despite the water and she can't help shivering with pleasure at the memory of those hands on her skin.

'What did you want to know about us, my Love ?' Though she seeks to reassure emphasising the word 'us' she sees Lash react to the last words.

Probably shouldn't have said that.

Lash squeezes her hand and leans forward to kiss her. Again, despite the water she gets the scent of desert and heat and sand, of an exotic taste on the other woman's lips.

'What do you want to know ?' Hannah's voice is a whisper. She strokes Lash's hair with her free hand.

'I was going to remind you that we have not yet decided which of us to be dominant.'

'I thought that was pretty obvious last night.' Hannah is as surprised by the intensity of Lash's words as she is by the content. She recalls writhing in bondage for much of the night after Lash had half carried, half dragged her from corridor outside the ballroom after being surprised by the Angelisch ambassadress and her pet.

'You offered your submission to me.' Lash looks at her with an expression she has never seen directed at her before, only in glances between others. 'Now I offer mine to you.'

'Lash.' Hannah is struggling with the enormity of what is unfolding. 'You really don't have to... I mean...'

Shit !

'I too am a little bi-curious.' Lash smiles.

'You were a fighting slave in a southern city state. What more satisfaction of submissive curiosity could a girl need satisfying ?'

'It was a long time ago and, of course, not of my choosing.' Lash remains serious. 'You will recall I was born a slave.'

Hannah struggles to understand.

'I offer myself to you. I believe that is the northern way.' Lash's violet eyes are brimming with tears.

'Well, sort of...I mean pledging is a bit...'

Lash's eyes show her desire and her fear of rejection.

Oh fuck ! What am I getting into ?

'Oh, Lash ! I don't want you as my Slave, I want you as my Lover !' Even as she says it, Boot Girl knows it is wrong. She is certain that she means it but a small part of her tries to remind the rest it is a vow she cannot fulfill.

Lash kisses her on the mouth with a warmth and passion that until this moment neither Boot Girl nor Hannah Pink have experienced. She feels Lash, move against her, feels the woman's lean body, firm and honed beneath its scourge of twisted leather and finds herself wanting it with a passion she cannot deny.

'Come on. There's something I've really gotta do.' Boot girl pulls away and takes Lash's hand, leading her from the tub. She half drags her into her room and picks up a pair of shackles that are lying beside the bed. She cuffs Lash's wrists in front of her body.

'Don't want me as your Slave, huh ?' Lash's confidence is returning.

'Trust me !'

'Of course.' Lash's response is almost a whisper.

Boot Girl leads Lash by her cuffed wrists and clips the chain between the shackles to a hoist. She engages the mechanism and Lash is drawn up onto her toes, hands held up above her head. Then Boot Girl picks up a knife.

The leather is tough and hard to cut and, at first, Lash pulls away, twisting in her bonds.

'No !'

'Lash, it's time these came off. If you call for help, I will gag you; if you struggle I will strap your ankles down so you can't move...'

'No !' Lash is swinging frantically though not attempting to kick her lover.

'Please, Lash.' Hannah moves in close and holds the captive tightly. 'Trust me.' Hannah uses her eyes and her dimples again, holding Lash firmly but gently, her lips close to those of the struggling woman.

Lash begins to calm and Boot Girl continues to remove the braided leather that Lash has worn for so many years revealing a pale skin mapped with a latticework of scars that mimic the twisted leather that has covered them.

Finally, Lash is naked; standing on her toes, arms still chained above her head. Boot Girl steps back to admires her lean, elegant captive with her small breasts and muscles that are so tight and hard the woman could almost be a statue. While she has worn the costume Lash has never shaved and her armpits and pubic bush have a thick growth that would normally shock a city girl. Boot Girl takes all this in and still loves Lash more than she would ever have thought possible.

'Oh, Lash...'

Hannah smiles at her suppressing any thought of the 'long game'.

She embraces the naked, helpless woman pressing her own naked body against Lash's.

The girls kiss and then Boot Girl pulls back to admire her new lover again. She runs a hand over the hanging girl's small breasts, playing with the nipples before bending to kiss them. Lash's breathing is as rapid as her own.

Boot Girl reaches up and frees Lash's wrists and then pulls her towards the bed.


JEZEBEL'S QUARTERS

Jezebel and Tamzin lie side by side in Jezebel's ornate four poster bed. Both girls are naked though Tamzin's arms are restrained behind her in a tight single sleeve and her ankles are cuffed by a short chain, a ball gag is buckled around her neck under her chin. Her nipple and genital jewelry have been removed and lie on the cabinet beside the bed. Jezebel strokes her slave's flank enjoying the smooth warmth of the skin then pulls her close, kissing her on the mouth. As they break apart Tamzin moves to suckle one of her mistress' nipples but Jezebel stops her.

'You know, I have a mind to free your arms and see if you're as good with your hands as you are with your tongue.'

'Are not you frightened I can overpower you and makest escape ?' Tamzin wrinkles her nose, as she does when she is amused. 'After, of course, tying and forcing you to pleasure my heart with your tongue.'

'Slaves who plot escape are severely punished. Besides, your ankles are chained together. You won't get far.'

Tamzin's blue eyes sparkle. 'Think you that the only reason I wait here; that because you keep me all the time tightly restrained ?' Tamzin forces herself to speak Donian even in the presence of her mistress who is as fluent in Belladonian as she.

'It's not the only reason.' Jezebel smiles. 'I know you stay because you enjoy being punished too.'

'You know I speak not to mean this.'

Jezebel grabs her and plants another kiss on her lips. Tamzin struggles.

'I could tie you if that is what you wish.' Tamzin says teasingly.

Jezebel cocks an eyebrow. 'Been there, done that, worn the chains. I'm quite happy being dominant.'

'I just suggest, Mistress.'

They kiss again and Jezebel teases one of her slave's erect nipples.

'Roll over.'

Tamzin obeys and Jezebel unbuckles the sheath that pins her arms together, pulling it free and tossing it out of the bed. Tamzin shrugs her shoulders and then pulls her arms round in front of her loosening her stiff joints.

'Thank you, Mistress.'

'You, do still remember what to do with your fingers don't you ?'

Tamzin's fingers caress one of Jezebel's nipples.

'Oh yes, Mistress.' She slips an arm beneath Jezebel's neck and pulls her Mistress towards her still teasing the now very erect nipple. Her fist takes a handful of dark hair and she pulls her Mistress' mouth towards her own. They kiss forcefully for several minutes, legs entwining as Tamzin continues to play with Jezebel's smalll breasts. When their lips part both are breathless and Tamzin, partly conditioned slave that she is, is close to orgasm.

'Is Mistress sure you would not enjoy the taking of submission ? Some nipple clamps for you, perhaps ?'

'Quite sure but I might have to gag you though if you don't shut up. After all, if you've got your hands you won't need your mouth.'

Tamzin pouts then smiles. 'I think I can persuade upon you.' She bends to suckle Jezebel's nipple and slips her hands down between her Mistress' legs stroking the wet labia and then circling the swollen clitoris.

Jezebel moans.

'I can do it the other way around if Mistress prefers.'

'Shut up and kiss me, Slave !'


LASH'S QUARTERS, THE NEXT EVENING

Lash is naked when she lets Hannah into her apartment, her scarred body covered in a sheen of sweat, skin glowing; she has clearly been training and her scent fills the air, not the dryness of the desert but a sharp acrid smell.

'Have you been naked all day ?'

'You destroyed my clothing.' The southerner's lilting voice is raised, uncharacteristically harsh, almost angry. 'Where have you been ?'

'Shopping.' Hannah is immediately defensive as Lash scowls. 'I bought you something.' She holds out a package but Lash ignores it.

'You strip me and chain me and now you buy me gifts. You think to make me your slave but you are not a strong mistress.'

Tears push themselves unexpectedly into Hannah's eyes at the rebuke and she chides herself for her wildly swinging emotions.

How long haveI been such an emotional cripple ?

'No, I'm not...' Hannah hugs the package embarrassed now by its presence and what she has done to procure it. She looks around and takes a deep breath. 'Lash, I'm a submissive. I think I always have been. I do a the fighting chick stuff because I can, because...because someone's got to...to look after the little people. Everyone thinks I'm tough and dominant but I'm not. When you took me the other night it gave me so much pleasure...'

'Yet last night...' Lash has become more reasoned, her self discipline calming her.

'I thought it was what you wanted.' Hannah feels wretched. 'You seemed to want to be dominated. You offered yourself to me.'

She thinks she sees some understanding in Lash's face.

'And I had to get rid of that costume of yours.' Hannah forces a smile. 'Here.' Hannah holds out the package she is carrying. 'You may as well have this.'

Lash takes the box. 'You are the first person in a long time to offer me a gift that was not a slave or a weapon.'

'How d'you know it's not a weapon ?'

Lash opens the box. Inside is a bundle wrapped in soft paper and tied with a leather thong. Lash removes the bundle and opens it shaking out its contents, a leather catsuit, soft tanned leather.

'You have bought this for me ?'

'I'll help you put it on if you like.' Hannah is feeling more confident. 'And take it off again later.'

'You wish to act as my slave ?'

Gaia's torment, Lash. Girls do this stuff for each other where I come from.

Hannah keeps herself calm. 'Perhaps Mistress would like to be bathe first.' Hannah slips her arm out of her costume baring her nipple. 'Her slave could assist her.'

Lash watches Hannah slide out of her costume, her violet eyes sliding across the blonde's bare skin until they come to rest on her boots, the ankle boots from the previous night. The villainess cannot know Hannah has pawned her jet-boots to buy the catsuit.

'Very well.' The hint of a smile crosses Lash's face.

Hannah removes her boots and drops to her knees.

'Mistress ?'

'Yes, Slave ?' Lash stands over her, close and Hannah can feel the heat of the southerner's body again, the dry heat of the desert. She seems to radiate power and Hannah feels the submissive part of herself respond.

'Would you mind if I shut the door ?'


THE SLAVE PENS, CHATEAU KLAW

Pauline and Juliana are in a lovers' knot, a form of bondage where the two lovers are bound or chained so they can touch each other intimately. Some forms involve the hands placed near the genitals or nipples and some the mouth, other more extreme forms may require one or both lovers to use their feet or even other parts of the body such as thighs or elbows to tease and arouse. In the case of the kidnapped princess and her new slave lover the girls are restrained with the mouths in close proximity to each other's pussies; both lie on their sides with their wrists held in locking leather cuffs chained to the outside of the other's thigh cuffs, their collars are chained to the inside of each other's thigh cuffs, both are ring gagged and blindfolded. The restraints are generous compared to the punishing bondage that southern slaves endure on a daily basis. Both girls have come several times since their confinement and Pauline is dozing, her conditioned body temporarily satisfied, but still just alert to the feeling of Julia's breath still hot on her wet labia and the scent of the other girl's sex so close to her face. She feels her lover move slightly and, sensing she is awake pushes out her tongue to touch the warm wet pussy in front of her mouth; Julia squirms and responds with her own tongue rubbing her breasts against Pauline's belly.


LASH'S QUARTERS

'It looks good on you, Mistress.' Hannah kneels naked, her skin and hair still wet from their shower, watching Lash in the new catsuit. The leather is tight against she woman's skin but soft and flexible, covering her lithe body from neck to ankle, emphasising her small breasts and pert buttocks. Despite their recent coupling in the shower Hannah is beginning to feel randy again.

'Over there.' Lash points. 'The silks. Fetch them.'

Gonna tie me up then ?

Hannah drops forward onto all fours keeping her head down to hide her smirk and crawls towards what look like a bundle of pink silk scarves hanging from a wooden peg protruding from the wall.

And you keep on looking at my cute ass.

Hannah reaches up and takes down the silks. There are five of them, each about five feet long. She puts them between her teeth and crawls back to Lash sitting back on her calves, her knees with her hands behind her back and offering them with her mouth.

Lash takes the silken strips, running them through her fingers.

'Do you know what these are ?'

'No, Mistress.'

'They are s'kriel. The five scarves. In the southern states they are used to bind and sometimes to clothe or even tease slaves. Each represents one of the pillars of slavery.' Lash walks behind Hannah and begins to wrap one of the scarves around her shoulders pulling them back before knotting it.

The second scarf Lash uses to bind the kneeling blonde's elbows and wrists together behind her back.

'Clearly they are very versatile.' Lash bends and begins to play with Hannah's nipples. 'I could use one of the others to gag and blindfold you or tighten it between your legs or to bind your ankles. Perhaps I will make it a leash and lead you through the palace on it, demonstrating your submission.'

Hannah finds herself shuddering at the thought; she has worked hard to fit in among the guards and trainers. She feels her face flush.

Whether Lash notices Hannah's reaction or not she continues. 'Some mistresses will secrete one or more s'kriel about their bodies and wear them so that their slaves, when restrained by them will be constantly reminded of her mistress' scent. A particularly popular affectation is for the mistress to keep the kri inside her sex for the night and then use it to gag her slave in the morning. Perhaps I will try that later.'

'You'd better not make me too helpless, Mistress. I won't be much use to you if I can't use my hands or tongue.'

'Silence, slave.' Lash's voice is again sharp, commanding and seems to come naturally to her.

Hannah falls silent.

'Perhaps I will put you on that leash.'

Hannah's blush increases.

'But first I will dress you.' Lash wraps the third kri around Hannah's chest and then plays with her nipples through the thin material.

Gaia, there are times when I wish I had breasts.

'Stand.'

Hannah obeys and Lash uses the fourth kri to fashion a tiny diaphanous skirt, tying it off at Hannah's hip.

Finally she ties the last kri around Hannah's neck then she leads her from the room.

Hannah follows her mistress, leashed and deliciously helpless through the corridors of the castle. The s'kriel tied around her chest and loins conceal almost nothing and her stiff nipples are obvious, proudly jutting out clearly against the flimsy material; the little skirt does nothing to conceal her sex.

At least with these breasts, I'm in no danger of being mistaken for a slave.

Though she is realising her submissive needs and such a display in Harmony would provoke little more than a second glance, Hannah finds herself nervous to show how overtly submissive she is; her fears go beyond the knowledge that slaves in the south are truly slaves in the full meaning for the word.

This is not the way for a southern warrior woman to behave and she is, of course, easily recognised, despite her new guise. As Lash leads her into the bar, Hannah blushes red from the top of her head to her toes.

She is almost relieved when, after commanding her to kneel, Lash removes the leash kri and uses it to gag her then she is forced to suffer the abuse of the guards and trainers for almost an hour, kneeling beside Lash in the bar as her mistress drinks valka.


THE ROYAL COURTYARD, CHATEAU KLAW, DONIA

The match between Boot Bitch and the 'black-skin' as the Pre'stkwe'in has been termed has been the subject of increasing excitement and frenzied wagering over the three weeks since the challenge was made. It is a welcome distraction in the late autumn with an increasing cold beginning to pervade the chateau and the annual discussion about the need to move the girls in the boot camp inside for the winter.

The morning of the match, however, has dawned bright, if a little chill, and there is now a carnival atmosphere in the quadrangle where the fight is to be held. It is late morning, the air is surprisingly warm and spirits are high. A large expectant crowd has gathered around the temporarily erected ring. On the stroke of noon Boot Bitch emerges from the west side of the quad. She is in colours, her Boot Girl costume, not the S'kriel she has been seen around the palace in over the last weeks; though, not her boots; her fists are bound with tape as are her bare feet.

Behind Boot Bitch comes Lash; the Kaj'ra is dressed in the slave silks, crossed between her bare breasts and wrapped around her loins in a short diaphanous skirt; she looks decidedly unhappy with her role as second and slave.

The Pre'stkwe'in has been housed in the large circular room in the base of the tower and, at Boot Bitch's insistence has been well fed and allowed to train. With Lash's assistance Hannah has extracted a promise from the prisoner not to attempt escape and has even persuaded Lash to teach the girl some Belladonian. This change in Lash's behaviour, if not her attitude, has been accomplished largely by Hannah assuming a very submissive role when with Lash and agreeing to spend the time when Lash is with the Pre'stkwe'in restrained in her lover's quarters.

Approaching the ring from the other side of the quad Hannah can see the Pre'stkwe'in dressed in a white flowing linen robe striding towards her accompanied by Jezebel who, Boot Girl suddenly realises has also been spending quite a lot of time with the prisoner.

There is a cheer as the opponents enter the ring and then silence as they face Lady Simone, both bowing low. La Donna sits on a raised dais with a canopy flanked by two guards; she wears a tight leather sparring tunic and thigh boots rather than her usual harness and cage skirt. Anastasia kneels, naked, at her Mistress' feet, arms sheathed behind her, a head harness holding a large ball gag in her mouth; she is on the end of a nipple leash the other end of which is looped around her mistress's wrist.

Boot Bitch turns to face her opponent and watches as the girl removes her robe; underneath the Pre'stkwe'in is naked; her dark skin seems to shine in the sun; she stares intensely at Hannah for a few moments and then begins to circle. Jezebel and Lash step back towards the side of the ring.

'You make a very fetching slave. I must ask Boots if i can borrow you sometime.' Jezebel always enjoys the opportunity to bait Lash.

'Your skills are not beyond mine nok'gimora.' Lash growls back and Jezebel turns back to the combatants.

Hannah and the Pre'stkwe'in are circling slowing sizing each other up. Jezebel has been training Hannah hard and advising her on the likely fighting style she will encounter. She has also confided that the girl had broken her left leg when she was pulled from the wreck of her flyer and that this is probably a point of weakness although, from her lithe movements, Hannah can see little evidence of this.


CHAPTER 8 (added: 2020/07/09)

THE ROYAL COURTYARD, CHATEAU KLAW, LINDEN, DONIA

The Pre'stkwe'in makes the first move, a high flying scissor kick that Hannah avoids easily, she follows with a spinning attack but, again, Hannah easily evades. They spar for a few more minutes then Hannah ducks a hook punch and counters with a forearm to her opponent's ribs; she follows this up by rolling around the other girl's back and swinging a heel into an exposed midriff. The Pre'stkwe'in absorbs the blow and tries to catch Hannah's foot but the lithe blonde rolls away.

They circle again, exchanging passes, some blows glancing but nothing landing hard. Hannah is aware of her opponent's power, not as extreme as that of Madame Bondage but enough that a single well landed blow could finish her. She is thus more wary than she might be with a less strong opponent. A handspring and spinning kick makes Hannah move quickly back and then a long low front kick catches her in the ribs knocking the breath from her body; she is aware that a few inches to the right and the blow would have floored her; she staggers back and the Pre'stkwe'in follows up her attack with a rain of kicks and punches. Hannah retreats parrying frantically and trying to catch her breath; finally she sees a gap, ducks below a punch and brings her knee up into the girl's ribs disrupting her attack and knocking her back; Hannah follows with an attack of her own driving her opponent back and realises the girl is tiring.

The girl's next attack is weaker and Hannah launches a further onslaught of blows but suddenly finds herself on the end of a side kick that knocks her to her ground. Her opponent should have followed but pauses to catch her breath and Hannah springs up quickly.

Got you now bitch.

The Pre'stkwe'in swings another kick but the focus is wrong and Hannah blocks it easily catching the leg; before the girl can react, Hannah slams the heel of her palm into her opponents chin and then her elbow into the side of the girl's head; the Pre'stkwe'in reels and Hannah follows up with a series of body blows before knocking her opponent down with a kick. Despite the fact that the girl is down Hannah dare not risk a grapple with this opponent who is bigger and stronger than her and waits for the Pre'stkwe'in to rise. The girl does but unsteadily.

Hannah moves in to attack but the girl suddenly reaches out to grab the collar of her costume.

Fuck !

Hannah is pulled in and the Pre'stkwe'in grabs her hair twisting her. Hannah knows her throat is open and reaches up for a grip of her own but her hands slip over the stubbled scalp. The Pre'stkwe'in's hand grips her throat and begins to squeeze. Hannah feels panic begin to rise.

Fuck !

Then she feels calm.

I can do this.

Focussing her mind she lashes out with her palm striking the Pre'stkwe'in in the face; the grip on her throat loosens and she hits again following up with the stamping kick the the Pre'stkwe'in's left knee. The dark-skinned girl staggers back and Hannah follows raining blows at her face and, especially her left knee. The girl goes down and Hannah kicks her hard in the ribs, she tries to roll and Hannah kicks her again, this time in the back, as she tries to rise Hannah kicks her in the face hard enough to flip her over.

Blood is streaming from the Pre'stkwe'in's mouth and nose and her eyes are glazed.

'Sik'an.' Hannah tells her to get up.

The Pre'stkwe'in tries to rise and Hannah kicks her again before dropping her full weight on the girl's neck.

'Nak'an qua !' You are mine !

'Lonez'an.'

'Nyak ! Nak'an qua.'

'Nyak.'

'An Kaj'ra nak.' Lash is standing beside her. 'Ush'gimora an. Ski'lod re. Tak'an nyak pez. Fok'an ezrok unger, Pre'st.'

The Pre'stkwe'in glares at her the nods.

Hannah stands warily and the Pre'stkwe'in slowly rolls over before climbing unsteadily to her knees.

'Bask nal an. Jivok ra.'

Slowly the Pre'stkwe'in puts her hand behind her back and bows her head.


LASH'S QUARTERS

'I feared for you.'

'Thank you, Lash.'

'Mistress !'

'Sorry, Mistress.'

Hannah is restrained with the pink slave silks; her wrists crossed and bound behind her back with one silk and another is wrapped around her shoulders keeping them back; a third is tied around her loins again as a very brief skirt. The bruises and abrasions caused by the fight are obvious on her bare skin. She kneels beside her Mistress who is eating at the table in her quarters and hand-feeding her slave. Lash has bathed her and then restrained her but not yet commanded her to her bed. Hannah shifts gently in her bonds surprised by the desperation she feels for her Mistress' touch.

'And tomorrow you will begin to train her ?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'You may find it useful to know that Pre'stkwe'ins enjoy penetration when they make love. You may be aware that, although most reproduction is artificial in the south, just as it is here, there are still men in Goroba and some of the other southern cities. High born Pre'stkwe'in maidens frequently make use of their services. They are also used to father Kaj'ra children.'

Hannah looks up, startled. 'You had a father ?'

'Yes, though I never knew him. My mother would have been restrained and hooded then used by many men until she came with child.'

Hannah is silent for a moment. 'So, have you...'

'No, I have not, though I do recall an enjoyment of penetration myself as a reward from my Mistress.'

'Lash, you kinky...' Hannah stops herself in time. 'I mean, yes, Mistress.'

'I can see I will have to punish you tonight.'

'Yes, Mistress, though could you do it gently ? I'm really stiff.'


THE SLAVE PENS

Pauline and Juliana stand in the centre of their cage. Juliana's wrists are cuffed to her thighs and her elbows pulled back by a strap that draws them together behind her back. She has to remain standing because a leather collar buckled around her neck is chained to the roof of the cage; she is naked other than red PVC thigh high slave boots which are linked by cuffs around the ankles connected by a foot long steel bar . Pauline stands in front of her; the enslaved princess is naked, her arms are restrained behind her in a slave sheath that pulls her elbows tightly together and her ankles are shackled by a short chain that passes though a ring in the cage's floor.

Both girls are gagged though, unusually, the gags are not strapped in place; they are, in fact, heavy steel balls wrapped in leather and held in place voluntarily by the slaves themselves; the reason for this is that the heavy balls are attached by slender chains to the girls' pierced nipples so that should one of them drop the gag they will cause considerable pain.

Pauline looks longingly into her lover's blue eyes and can see a lust behind them that mirrors her own. Juliana winks and both girls lean forward touching her gags and lips. They kiss with their lips for some minutes, then Pauline traces her gagged mouth down to Julian's neck, longing to kiss her properly.

She shuffles a little closer and feels her breasts press against Juliana's, feels the other woman's nipple chains against her own and grins broadly. She straightens her head and looks at Juliana again maintaining the pressure between their breasts then, brazenly, pushes the heavy ball gag from her mouth; it drops onto her chest and lodges in her cleavage supported by Juliana's. With her mouth free she kisses he lover on the lips and then moves again to caress the side of the other woman's jaw with her lips before moving back to the side of her neck. She can hear Juliana's breath becoming more rapid as the blonde slave's conditioned body responds.

Again Pauline lifts her head to look at her lover. 'Gonna give it a try.'

Juliana looks down uncertainly and then, carefully, pushes her own gag out of her mouth. It drops onto Pauline's with a solid 'thunk' and lodges above it as both girl's press their bodies together.

'Better ?'

'Much.'

The girls kiss passionately, caressing tongues for several minutes. As they break apart Juliana's gag rolls from its precarious perch on her breasts.'

'Owwww !' Juliana tries to suppress her cry lest one of the overseers notice them.

A smile curls on Pauline's lips but Juliana's reaction as her gag falls, jerking on her clamped nipples, causes Pauline's gag to fall too.

'Ohhhwww !'

Both girls laugh despite the pain and kiss again passionately pressing their bodies even more closely together.

'I can reach your gag if you'd like me to.' Pauline's nipples, familiar with regular abuse as they are, already ache.

'No, it's ok. We so rarely get the chance to kiss like this.'

They giggle and kiss again.

'Then let me make it a bit more fun.' Pauline steps back as far as her bonds will allow and bends forward teasing Juliana's stretched right nipple with her tongue.

'Ohhh !'

Pauline stops. 'Too much.'

'No, just right. Don't stop.'

Pauline smirks. 'Of course not, Mistress.'

'If you're a good slave I might not punish you later.'

'I exist only to worship you, Mistress.' Pauline grins and takes her lover's nipple inside her mouth; like her own, the blonde's nipples are so big that, she has to open her mouth wide to accommodate it.

Though both girls are slaves, it has emerged in their few moments of unrestrained intimacy, that Pauline is even more submissive than the beautiful Juliana.

'Then why don't you worship me properly, Slave Slut.' Julian's mouth curves into a teasing smile.

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline drops to her knees and is suddenly confronted by the shiny red boots locked onto her lover; her desire to worship jumps from playful fun to such driving lust that she forgets the pain in her stretched nipples. She bends and places her lips on the toes of Juliana's right boot almost oblivious of the fact that the heavy gag now rests on the floor.

It is several minutes before Juliana interrupts Pauline's submissive ecstasy. The princess' tongue and lips have been methodically caressing the shiny leather and spiked heels of the toe boots.

'Stop prevaricating you worthless slut, you're only doing that to rest your nipples.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, J...er...Mistress.' Pauline is genuinely surprised.

'Just don't take all night to get to my pussy ! I am conditioned too you know.' Though she makes her words commanding, her tone remains playful.

'Yes, Mistress.' Pauline kneels up consciously lifting her own gag with her nipples. 'Sorry, Mistress.'

'You will be if you don't do a very good job with that randy tongue of yours.'

'It's not just my tongue that's randy, Mistress.'

'I can see I'm going to have to whip you soundly later.'

If only.

'I look forward to it, Mistress.' Pauline leans forward and runs her tongue over Juliana's sex, teasing her swollen clitoris and dripping labia, flicking the intimate piercing there that, like her own, is another humiliation that marks Juliana as a slave.

The blonde moans and sways her hips, the weights on her own tortured nipples suddenly forgotten.

It doesn't take long for Juliana has come, gasping and moaning, thrusting her hips forward, her hands straining to reach her kneeling lover's head and pull the teasing tongue deeper inside her.

As Juliana recovers her breath. Pauline stands and lifts her lovers gag, taking it into her how own mouth.

'Good, girl.' Juliana smiles with satisfaction leaning forward as far as her collar will allow to kiss Pauline around the gag. Pauline feels a flush of satisfaction and is reminded of her own arousal.

'Why don't you come a little closer ?'

Pauline shuffles in pressing her body against Juliana's and feels her lovers bound hands stroke the outside of her thighs.

'I'll have to miss out on those lovely responsive nipples of yours. I hope you don't mind.' Juliana smiles. 'I'm a little tied up.'

Gagged again, Pauline can only shake her head.

'It's a shame I can't reach them, I think Fetish has been spiking your food with hormones again, your breasts have been very sensitive this week haven't they.' Pauline nods reminded once again of the heavy weight dragging on her huge nipples.

'Move a little to one side.'

Pauline slides her hips across and is rewarded by the sensation of Juliana's fingers slipping between her thighs.

'Hot little slut aren't we ?'

Pauline nods, moaning sensuously.

Juliana teases her lover with her fingers, stroking the hot wet sex until Pauline is whimpering with lust.

'Want to come ?'

Pauline nods urgently, her conditioned body quivering with desire.

'.lea.e' Please.

Juliana nibbles Pauline's neck for a few seconds longer as her finger play with her lover's piercing, then she strokes the girl's swollen clitoris. Pauline whimpers, coming strongly, pushing herself against her lover and nearly dropping the gag.

'Good girl.'

Pauline looks at her lover through glazed eyes as, her body still charged with pleasure following the orgasm.

'You can let the gag go if you want to.' Juliana knows the pain Pauline is enduring on her behalf.

As the pleasure subsides Pauline steps back then bends and releases the gag, still firmly attached to Juliana's nipples, so that it doesn't fall far. She lifts her head and kisses Juliana's nipples before straightens up.

'Thank you, Mistress Juliana.'

They kiss.

'Give me the gag then lie on the floor. I'm certainly not going to be comfortable tonight.'

'No, Mistress.'

Juliana raises her eyebrows. 'I really am going to have to punish you.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Better.'

The kiss again then Pauline bends and lifts Juliana's gag in her mouth.

Juliana kisses her around the gag and then gaze lovingly into each other's eyes.

'I'm going to make you worship me again later and I don't expect any disobedience.'

Pauline smiles and nods as she endures the pull on her stretched nipples.


LASH'S QUARTERS

'You were right about the penetration, she loved it.'

It is the night after Hannah's first day training the Pre'stkwe'in. They are in Lash's hot tub on the verandah. The water is steaming in the cool evening air. Hannah's wrists are bound behind her back and she has a ball gag hanging below her chin.

The dark-skinned girl has proved to be an excellent and submissive, if not entirely willing, pony; she is strong and fit and, importantly, now obedient. Following Lash's recommendation Hannah has harnessed the girl with a large dildo, liberally coated in slave gel inside her.

'Stumbled a few times in the first turn round the exercise yard. Not surprising really considering she's probably not come for six months. Really enjoyed the high trotting too, I don't suppose you've ever done it with anything inside you.'

'No.' Lash's response is slightly clipped but Hannah chooses to push her lover a little further.

'Thought not. We can give it a try if you like.'

'Suk'an qua la'esh, Kaj'ra.' Bring my whip, Slave. Hannah has asked Lash to teach her some Pre'stkwe and, although reluctant, Lash has agreed.

'Hai, Kaj'leh.' Hannah climbs out of the water and immediately feels a the chill of the breeze on her bare wet skin. A slap on her buttocks gets her moving quickly inside.

She returns several moments later with Lash's multi-tailed whip in her mouth and gratefully slides back into the warm water. Lash takes the whip and puts it on the side of the tub.

'I brought you a present too, Mistress.' Hannah turns and presents her bound hands to her Mistress who reaches under the water to find out what her slave is holding.

Lash's hand surfaces holding a dildo fitted with straps.'

'I've seen this in that shop you go in to buy southern stuff. I've never really understood what it's for.'

Lash laughs. 'We can try it later.' She pauses. 'After you've been thoroughly whipped and very tightly restrained that is.'

Hannah smiles. 'Yes, Mistress.' She slide herself against her lover and feels Lash's fingers start to tease her nipple.

Sometime later Hannah is moaning with lust, squirming in the hat water that makes he whole body tingle or perhaps that is the result of Lash's caresses. Hananh has offered, then begged, to please her new lover several times but her advances have been slapped away by her the villainess who has continued to toy with her now, highly erect, nipples, first with her fingers and then with tongue and teeth as her hand finally slipped between Hannah's widely spread legs.

'Out !' Lash suddenly sits up leaving Hannah's body stewing in frustration.

'Oh, Mistress, please, you can't do that, I'm about to come.'

Lash grins. 'You haven't been given permission. Anyway I told you earlier I was going to punish you and now I am.'

'That's unfair.'

'I think you mean, 'that's unfair, Mistress' and, as your Mistress, I say it's fair. If you don't agree I'll use any force necessary.'

The later is delivered with more than a hint of threat and Hannah is reminded of her previous encounters with Lash; with her wrists bound, Hannah knows she would be easily overwhelmed.

Pouting, Hannah climbs from the tub ahead of Lash who wraps her in a large towel that has been warming on the rail beside them.

Hannah giggles as Lash dries her off. 'This isn't a punishment.'

Lash then takes the towel for herself. 'Go to the post and kneel against it. Slide your hands behind it.'

Hannah giggles again and runs ahead of her lover to obey. While Lash dries herself Hannah puts her bound hands over the post and drops carefully to her knees. She is still highly aroused and this is not decreased by watching her naked mistress rubbing her firm body dry.

Lash looks up. 'Enjoying the show, slave ?'

'Very much Mistress.'

'I can see I'm gong to have to blindfold you.'

'Even you couldn't be that mean.'

'Let's see shall we ?' Lash walks back to the tub holding the towel away from her body. Hannah watches noticing that Lash is not moving with her usual economic warrior's gait but with an exaggerated swing of her hips. The kneeling slave gives a wolf whistle and Lash turns.

'You really have gone too far now !'

Lash picks up the whip and the strap on and walks back over to the kneeling slave; stepping behind the pole she fastens Hannah's bound wrists in place with a chain then bend and kisses her slave on the mouth. Hannah returns the kiss and feels the tip of the whip caress her nipples then slip lower between her spread legs. She is breathing hard when Lash stands up again. She watches her lover cross to the table and pour a glass of Valka.

'Sa'ut.' The southerner downs it in one then walks back towards the helpless Hannah. 'Ready ?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Lash strikes Hannah across the chest with the whip. The leather stings her nipples but in her arousal she barely notices the pain.

'Count !' Lash strikes her again.

'Two.'

'I'm not as fluent in Belldonian as you but i think one comes first.'

'But...' Hannah protests.

'In Pre'stkwe !' Lash swings the whip again striking Hannah's chest a little harder. 'Begin again.'

'Bo.'

'Better.'

'Ni...'


THE SLAVE PENS

Pauline is awoken by something touching the side of her body. She is lying on her back, wrists and ankles chained to her cot, hooded and ring gagged but otherwise naked. She stirs moaning a little into her gag and feels pressure against the side of her chest, a contact that moves up towards her right breast. She smiles around her gag.

'.ulia.a ?'

'.e.'

Juliana's tongue is warm and wet over Pauline's breast, seeking the nipple. Pauline cannot move much in her bonds but turns as much as she can pushing her nipple towards her lover's questing tongue. She is rewarded as the tongue caresses her rapidly hardening nipple pushing it against something firm. She realises that Julia too must be ring gagged and is probably hooded too.

The tongue teases her right nipple and then moves off seeking her left; Pauline squirms in delight struggling to present her other nipple for attention.

Over the next twenty minutes or so Juliana's tongue roams over Pauline's helpless body teasing her nipples, licking her belly and exploring her navel until the enslaved princess is panting with lust, writhing and arching her back trying to encourage her lover move towards her now dripping pussy.

Juliana clearly plans to tease her lover further or, perhaps, has desires of her own; perhaps she is at the limit of her bonds, cruelly kept from reaching Pauline's yearning sex. For a moment Juliana's teasing ceases and then Pauline suddenly feels the girl's tongue enter her mouth; she greets it with her own enjoying the warm wet, taste of her lover. They kiss for several minutes, if that is the correct expression for lovers whose lips stretched around ring gags and kept apart by leather hoods, and are just permitted to taste each other's tongues. Within the kiss, Pauline tries articulate her lust, hoping that, if her lover does not choose to satisfy her then at least she can bring Juliana to climax.

'.ulia.a' She pushes out her tongue, sweeping her head from side to side stretching towards the side of the cot where she can visualise her lover is kneeling; however, she cannot make contact with anything; then, after a few moments her tongue touches something hard. She explores blindly for a moment, realising it is metal and then feels softness beyond its edge.

'Oooooh !' She exclaims in frustration realising Juliana is wearing chastity restraints.

'.e.' Juliana moans sadly confirming her lover's suspicion.

There is another few moments' pause and then Pauline feels the side of her cot tip slightly and Juliana struggles to lever herself onto the helpless princess. Juliana's weight presses down on her and Pauline's tongue touches the metal of her lover's chastity belt. She turns her head and caresses the thigh beside her then Juliana's tongue licks her pussy and she begins to pant with lust.


JEZEBEL'S QUARTERS, CHATEAU KLAW

'You know, if she bent your knees you'd protect your back more.'

'Really, Mistress ?' Tamzin bends a little further exposing even more of her pert bottom and gives a little wiggle. 'I suppose I should look after myself.' She is cleaning Jezebel's apartment and has been since before her Mistress' return. She wears an outfit in the style of an Angelisch maid although her's is blue and latex rather than the conventional black PVC; by bending over she exposes at least half of her gently freckled buttocks and a triangle of blue latex made by the skimpy knickers; she wears blue latex stockings too and platform shoes with six inch heels.

'You're being rather cheeky this evening, my girl.' Jezebel lounges in a thickly upholstered armchair watching the impromptu show.

'Am I, Mistress ? I'm surprised you noticed.' Tamzin's voice carries a gently mocking innocence.

'You seem to be asking to be punished too.' Jezebel frowns at her slave's bottom.

'Perhaps, Mistress. It would be more fun than cleaning.'

'Oh, I think I could arrange for a little of both. Perhaps you could crawl round with your hands bound and a duster in your mouth. If you wanted I could add nipple clamps.' As she speaks Jezebel unfolds herself from the chair and creeps up behind her slave whence she gives a stinging slap to the delicious bottom presented to her.

Tamzin lets out a surprised squeak and then giggles. 'I do wish you wouldn't do that, Mistress.'

'I thought you rather enjoyed being spanked.'

'I love being spanked but I don't like people creeping up behind me.'

Jezebel grabs her slave by the hips and Tamzin gives a delighted squeal dropping the cushions she has just gathered.

'Clumsy.'

'I'm sorry, Mistress.' Tamzin does her best to sound contrite as she tries to turn but Jezebel holds her firmly and wrestles her slave to the ground among the scattered cushions, in a few moments the pert redehad is pinned against her Mistress who holds her thick red hair in one fist and clasps her latex clad bottom in the other.

'You know I do love you in latex.'

'Just in latex, I hope, Mistress.' Tamzin pouts theatrically.

'PVC too...and leather...and, of course, in nothing at all.' Jezebel pauses. 'Well, restraints too. I do love you in a tight harness...'

'You still haven't trained me as a pony.'

'Thank you for reminding me. Though we still need to work on your fitness. I was thinking a few weeks in the slave pens might address a variety of deficiencies. It would help your fighting skills too.'

'Deficiencies, Mistress ?' Tamzin snuggles against her mistress seductively, blue eyes shining with desire. 'You'd miss me too much.'

'I wouldn't count on it. Now. Bed !'

'Oh, Mistress, I've just made the bed and it's very comfortable here.' Tamzin flutters her eyelashes and presses herself more firmly against her Mistress hooking a latex covered leg around her. 'I think this is a much better spot for playing with your little latex slave girl.'


LASH'S QUARTERS

Hannah has received eight lashes across the breasts (though she has only counted to six), six to the belly and six to each thigh.

Lash reaches behind the whipping post to release Hannah's wrists from the chain holding them in place.

'Pez'an qua, Kaj'leh.' Thank you, Mistress.

'I haven't finished with you yet. You've been a very naughty girl this evening. Stand and turn round then kneel against the pole.'

Hannah obeys and Lash briefly frees her bound wrists before retying then together in front of her on the other side of the post; again she uses a length of chain to hold them in place.

Hannah pouts. 'I did buy you a present, Mistress.'

'Only two dozen lashes then.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Hannah fights to keep her voice steady.

'A little harder this time, I think.'

The whipping is hard. Harder than Hannah would normally enjoy but she is doing it for Lash and so endures forcing herself not to cry out or ask for the gag and hugging the post, pressing her body against it and clasping it with her thighs.

When it is over she makes herself thank Lash properly.

'Good girl.' Lash frees Hannah's wrists from the pole and guides them behind her head then wraps another silk around the submissive's shoulders to bind them there. Then she picks up the strap-on and buckles the belt around Hannah's waist; the device has thigh straps to steady it and a crotch strap which she tightens last.

'At least I'll get some pleasure this evening then.'

'Silence. Nak'an huz !'

'Nok'pez'qua an.' I'm sorry, Mistress.

Lash smiles. 'That's a phrase you seem to need pretty often. Open.'

Hannah obeys and Lash replaces the gag in her mouth. With her submissive gagged and helpless, Lash takes the opportunity to tease Hannah's large and stiffly erect nipples.

'I'm very fond of these.'

Hannah smiles around the gag, her body tingling with pleasure as the pain of the whipping fades.

'Though I think I might have to get something done about your breasts. Not huge but just a little fullness.'

Lash leans to the side looking at Hannah's flat chest; instead of the usual anger Hannah feels sadness, regret perhaps.

'Go to the bed.'

Hannah obeys, turning and walking towards Lash's pallet with her hands behind her head and the strap-on swaying oddly in front of her sex. She is very aware of how the position she is bound in is often used to display a slave's breasts to their maximum and feels embarrassed by her failing.

'Down.'

Hannah drops to her knees.

'On your back.'

With her thoughts still partly on her breasts or, rather, the lack of them, the heroine submissively rolls over to find Lash hovering above her with an expression of urgency and lust. Before Hannah can even settle herself Lash is upon her, the dominant's fist in her hair and her weight pinning her down. Lash kisses her fiercely around the gag then begins to kiss her neck; Hannah squirms as Lash's teeth nibble at her flesh. Lash's mouth and tongue work their way down Hannah's chest and then teeth close on Hannah's right nipple; the heroine squeals through the gag and Lash looks up but then her teeth close around Hannah's nipple again biting and lifting to stretch the flesh; Hannah writhes and Lash releases the nipple.

'Lie still.' The lust in Lash's eyes now reflects Hannah's own and panting girl watches as Lash sits up arching her back and running her hands over her oven breasts, teasing the nipples. Then she raises herself and, grasping the dildo impales herself on it.

'Ooooh, fuk'an qua ! Lash looks imperiously down at Hannah. 'Raise your hips, Slave.' Her voice is harsh, commanding, a mistress ordering a slave not a submissive lover. Hannah arches in response lifting Lash and further impaling her on the dildo. Lash moans again closing her eyes, her hands running down to her hips and begins to raise and lower her body so that the dildo slides in and out of her sex. Hannah watches, excited by her lover's arousal though wishes she could join in.

After several minutes Lash opens her eyes and looks down at Hannah. The dominant's violet eyes are shining with lust and her face flushed.

'If you are a good girl, I may let you try this too.' Lash's voice has lost its sharp edge and is uncharacteristically unsteady, deep and breathy. The dominant's fingers begin to play with Hannah's nipples again then, pinching them, she leans down and kisses Hannah around the gag.

Hannah squirms, pulling at her bonds longing to caress her lover's body, her hips arch and and Lash gasps.

Hannah smiles around her gag and thrusts her hips up again, arching her back.

'Again.' Lash's voice has become harsh again, and when Hannah does not respond immediately she slaps her hard across the face.

Hannah begins to thrust her hips rhythmically and Lash rides her, her hands going to her own nipples, teasing and tweaking them.

Oh, Mistress ! Please let me do that.


THE SLAVE PENS

Pauline has cum repeatedly, her captive body spasming almost uncontrollably as Juliana's tongue teases the brunette's gaping sex, stroking and flicking, thrusting into the drooling pussy in a way that makes the helpless girl cry out through her gag even as her own tongue laps uselessly at her lovers thighs, spread either side of her head.

Helpless and hooded, she is aware of every movement of her lover, not just the questing tongue but the way she shifts her weight. Pauline can tell the blonde is also hooded, feel, the leather against her thighs; she can feel the cups of the large chastity bra, cool and hard against her belly and every now and again, the chains of the chastity restraints catch Pauline's stiffly erect nipples. She thinks Juliana's arms are sheathed, her ankles probably locked in leather cuffs, chained to the tip of the arm sheath effectively holding her in a loose hogtie.

The will both be punished if caught like this but, in her ecstasy, Pauline does not care about such details, only the urgent tongue in her throbbing pussy and the hot breath of her helpless lover teasing her to another orgasm and then another.


LASH'S QUARTERS

Lash's orgasm is violent and intense. As she begins to come she pinches Hannah's nipples fiercely and then as the orgasm takes hold slaps the helpless girl across the face shouting at her in Pre'stkwe. Helpless and gagged, Hannah can do nothing but bear the abuse as her cheeks burn and tears spring to her eyes. She obediently continues to fuck Lash with the strap on and the southerner grinds her sex against Hannah's.

Finally satisfied the Lash calms, focus returning to her gaze and looks down at Hannah with a ferocity that is frightening. The helpless girl fears she will suffer more abuse but Lash loosens the silk around the submissive's shoulders and Hannah lifts her arms. With Lash leaning forward Hannah embraces her lover; her wrists are still bound together.

'Make me come again, Slave !'

Hannah lifts her lips to the side of Lash's neck and kisses her as best she can around the gag then she arches her hips, pulling the dominant against her.

Lash's breathing becomes more rapid and after a few moments she grasps Hannah's hair again, bending to caress and bite at the blonde's neck. Hannah writhes, further inflaming Lash's arousal and the dominant sinks her teeth firmly into her slave's neck causing Hannah to cry out through her gag.

When Lash finally slips out of Hannah's embrace it is because she is on the point of orgasm. Hannah watches as her lover leans back, her lean muscles rippling as she thrusts her sex hard against Hannah's, driving herself onto the strap-on. Hannah reaches up to tease Lash's nipples and the dominant comes strongly crying out and throwing her head back, her hair flying wildly as she continues to impale herself on the dildo until she climaxes again.

An hour later Hannah is chained spreadeagle on her back with the muzzle strapped over her mouth. Lash has whipped her soundly though not harshly across the chest, belly and thighs. Hannah is more bruised than she was following the fight with the Pre'stkwein but the pleasure and release she has seen Lash enjoy far make up for any pain she has endured.

Lash seems to be calming from her sexual rage and is gently teasing the helpless girl, running her fingers over her belly and then bending to kiss her nipples.

Hannah has endured of two hours of bondage and intense submission without release so when Lash begins to tease her she finds her body responds almost immediately.

'You wish to come ,Slave ?' Lash's voice is calm now, gentle.

Hannah nods, her blue eyes wide over her muzzle.

Lash bends and picks up the strap on and then kneels between Hannah's spread legs. Hannah has been penetrated before but it is not a common form of sexual play in Bellania or indeed Donia. She is aware that Fetish uses dildos as part of her conditioning techniques and she has seen them used in the far north by Lady Bishop. However, using them in the way Lash uses the strap-on is new to her. With the device buckled around her loins the southerner leans over the helpless heroine and strokes the tip of the dildo against Hannah's wet labia; the blonde gasps at the sensation and then as Lash teases her slave's sex with the very tip of the dildo Hannah's eyes widen with pleasure. Very gently, Lash pushes the phallus further and further inside her, withdrawing each time in a way that makes Hannah squirm in her bondage and want to beg for more.

Oh Gaia, make me come !

Hannah begins to whimper around her gag as she becomes more and more aroused by Lash's rhythmic thrusting and arches her back pushing her hips against her lover.

Please.

Lash is gentle and careful, a complete change to the violent sexual animal who has just drawn pleasure at will from her helpless slave.

'Control yourself, Slave.' Lash's voice is lilting and gentle. 'You may come but if you attempt to control it the pleasure will be greater; allow it to take you a little at a time.'

Hannah nods closing your eyes in bliss.

'No !' Lash's voice is firm. 'Look at me.'

Hannah opens her eyes and feels Lash takes a handful of hair in her fist. To Hannah she seems so utterly dominant and Hannah can only look at her lover with desire and she fights the urge to climax.

'Now, Slave ! Come for your Mistress.'

Hannah gasps, still looking into Lash's violet eyes as she tries to come. For a moment she can't and then Lash pushes a little more inside her and pleasure detonates in the helpless blonde's loins.

'Control it !' Lash's violet eyes stare at her intently.

Hannah nods almost inperceptably, trying to stop the orgasm which it threatening to rip through her body like an explosion.

She succeeds in containing it and Lash once again thrusts into her. Hannah feels the pleasure in her loins pulsing with each thrust like caged beast that is about to about to burst free and consume her.

'Again !'

Yes, Mistress.

She longs to say it but is constrained by the gag.

Hannah reaches into the heat of her loins and draws a little more out letting it flow through her, gasping around her gag.

Oh Gaia, please just let me come properly.

'Control it.'

It is as if Lash is reading her mind. The girl's gaze is so intense that Hannah wonders if she can see into her head through her eyes.

Her body shudders again with pleasure but she manages to prevent her lust from overwhelming her.

'Do it again.'

Hannah allows more of the heat in her loins to escape, her helpless body shuddering.

'Again.'

No, please don't...

Hannah reasons that each time she allows a little more out than the need to come properly will be assuaged and she will find her lust easier to control but each time she dips into it her body responds more intensely and this time she barely stops herself surrendering to the intense climax for which she yearns.

She looks up at Lash.

Please let me come.

The heat that was once in her loins is now engulfing her body and she doesn't think she can stop it this time.

'Once more.'

I hope you know what you're doing, Mistress.

Hannah's whole body is pulsing with pleasure and she realises she is in the throes of orgasm but, for the first time in her life, aware of everything that means to her, of the prickling of her skin where the she has been beaten, the heat in her loins, spasms in her vagina, the tingling in her nipples, her heartbeat, her breathing, the bondage holding her, the muzzle across her face and the plug in her mouth, the face of her lover intense and wildly beautiful.

Oh Gaia...Lash...please keep me like this.


THE STABLES, CHATEAU KLAW

'Nak'an qua ! You are mine.' Hannah decides to avoid any reference to the word Kaj'ra. 'And you are going to have to learn some Belladonian. Ti'ak an Belladonian.'

Willful is kneeling in her stall, wrists cuffed behind her back and ankles chained. An empty feed bowl lies in front of her.

Hannah notices the girl has once again been shaved. She frowns and resolves to stop this being done to her new slave. The punishment and humiliation of slaves is, of course commonplace in Donia; slaves are chattel and free woman can use and abuse them as they please. She has just passed Pauline and her blonde slave lover being punished in the courtyard, strung up by their wrists, and linked by chains clipped between their nipples and clits, forced to arch forward in their bonds to relieve the strain these chains impose on these sensitive parts. Both girls have obviously been soundly whipped and will, no doubt hang there for all to see as a warning to other slaves of the vulnerability of their status.

As Hannah stands for a moment thinking how to stop more humiliation being inflicted on her new slave, the girl's eyes flick up, white in her dark face, widening in surprise when the see Hannah's dress.

'Don't you start.' Hannah is wearing three of the silks, the kri, a bra, tiny skirt and one around her throat to cover the love bites Lash has inflicted on her during their lovemaking. Hannah has been forced to endure the wolf whistles of her fellow guards and grooms in the pony yard during her walk to the stables. As well as her clothing, she knows they can clearly see the bruises from the whippings she has endured; she is glad they cannot see the bruises and bite marks which almost completely encircle her neck.

'Log an Enz'rak.' Hannah has practiced the phrase. 'Your name is Beauty. Sek an ? Do you understand ?'

'I understand you.' The girl's accent is far stronger than Lash's, though the intonation is similar and surprisingly soft, her Belladonian words are barely understandable.

Hannah brings her whip down on the pony's bare breasts.

'Then you will call me Mistress.'

There is a slight pause.

'Yes, Mistress.'

'What is your name ?'

'I am Enz'rak.' The girl pauses before adding 'Mistress.'

'And what does Enz'rak mean in Belladonian ?'

'Beauty, Mistress.'

'Good girl.' Hannah smiles. 'Now, I'm going to go get your harness and tack and then we're going to do some pony training together.'


LASH'S QUARTERS

'Why do you do this ?' Lash runs her hand over Hannah's smoothly shaved pussy and the helpless blonde squirms with pleasure. After spending the day training Beauty she has bathed and washed her hair then shaved her legs and sex.

'Does it not please you, Mistress ?' Hannah kneels before her mistress in Lash's quarters, her wrists tied to each end of one kri which is wrapped around her throat; her hands are held high behind her back and she is very conscious of the silk tightening around her neck if she tries to struggle.

'It is not our way.' Lash's voice is initially harsh but then softens. 'However, it is not displeasing.'

'Perhaps you should try it.' Even as she says it, Hannah wishes she could take it back.

Lash stiffens. 'Only girls are...nude. Women have hair.' Her voice conveys her anger. 'In Goroba, to be shaved is a humiliation.'

'I'll remember that if I ever visit.' Hannah is trying to relieve Lash's tension.

'You know we cannot go there.' Lash stands turning her back on the kneeling slave her body tense.

'I'm sorry, Mistress.'

'Speak not to me of Goroba, Slave.'

Hannah wants to reach out and hold her lover even though she knows the woman would shrug her off. 'Lash...' She is genuinely sorry but a small part of her is infuriated by Lash's touchiness regarding all things to do with the Pre'stkwein and Kaj'ra. Then it dawns on her and her.

'It was you, wasn't it.' Hannah explodes angrily and Lash spins to look at her clearly surprised by her vehemence. 'You had Enz'rak shaved and you've told the guards to keep doing it.'

'Yes.' Lash's voice is cold and hard. 'She is ush'gimora !'

'She's my slave...'

Lash slaps Hannah hard across her face knocking her to the side. 'And you are mine.' The southerner looms over Hannah who squirms on her side tasting blood in her mouth. She is half choked by the sudden tightening of the kri around her throat. She tries to rise. 'Lash you have no right...'

Lash kicks her hard in the belly and she sprawls across the floor the silk about her throat tightening further.

'I have every right. You are mine, thus she is mine.'

'Lash, stop it.' Hannah gasps for breath.

'Were our positions reversed she will have me killed in a moment.' Lash bends and takes Hannah by the hair, lifting her and dragging her, choking, towards the punishment rack.

'Lash...' Hannah's voice is a whisper with the tight band around her neck; she struggles to get her legs under her, twisting in the other woman's tight grip. Lash throws her across the middle bar of the punishment frame and grabs a whip, a short crop, from the bucket beside it. With her fist still in Hannah's hair she brings the crop down hard on the helpless girl's bare bottom.

'Lash, stop it.' Hannah can barely breathe. Her head is pounding. Though the blows are painful she tries not to struggle as this only tightens the silken kri further. Her vision starts to blur though she knows this is the tears in her eyes.

Lash continues to beat her raining blow after blow onto her bottom and all Hannah can do is endure it.

Finally Lash stops, her fury reduced if not dissipated. Hannah stands stiffly, her legs apart, her hips pressed against the bar of the punishment frame, her bottom burning with pain. She is gasping for breathe but by not struggling she has at least allowed the silk around her neck to loosen.

Lash lifts Hannah's head pulling her upright and, tipping her head back marches her over towards the pile of kri.

Hannah does not struggle, held on her toes, forcing her arms not to move.

'I will punish you for your insolence.'

Hannah remains silent as Lash forces her to her knees and then down on to her back with her legs folded under her. The dominant then uses two more kri to bind Hannah's thighs to her ankles and then pulls her knees apart.

Hannah knows what is coming but can only watch through a blur of tears as Lash picks up her long coiled whip.

No, Mistress. Please.

She does not want to cry out, doesn't want to show her lover her weakness, wants to show that she can behave like a real slave.

The first blow is to her right nipple and she forces herself to swallow the cry of pain; the second, to her left and produces a small whimper. Then Lash moves to stand between Hannah's spread legs. Hannah knows she could close her legs but it would do no good.

The stroke makes her cry out in pain and the second piles on top of the agony she feels. She shakes her head but does not beg.

A half dozen more blows follow, the tip of the whip unerring, striking her nipples and sex until she is sobbing with pain.

Finally, Lash gathers the whip and stands above her. Hannah looks up at her lover's toned body, still magnificent even as she blinks away a mist of tears. Lash squats and takes Hannah's hair in her fist again.

'Thank your mistress for her lesson, Slave.'

'Thank you, Mistress.' Hannah can only speak through sobs.

'Now pleasure her.' Lash straddles her and pushes her sex against Hannah's face and the slave obediently pushes out her tongue.

'I am sorry.' Lash appears genuinely remorseful as she releases Hannah from the intense punishment tie in which the submissive blonde has spent the night. She hangs beneath the bars of Lash's punishment frame her back curved so that her head, pulled back and strapped into a bridle supporting a huge ball gag, is nearly touching her toes which are cuffed together. Hannah's arms are crossed behind her at the elbow and each wrist is chained to the frame in a way that puts intense strain on her shoulders, heavy weights hang from her nipples and clitoris. A nose hook and butt hook add to her discomfort.

Hannah remains silent as Lash frees her gasping only as the clamps are removed from her clitoris and nipples. She is so stiff she can barely move and her nipples sex and bottom are exquisitely sensitive.

Lash attempts to stroke Hannah's bottom but Hannah knocks the other woman's hand away and Lash does not respond.

In silence Hannah pulls a kri around her chest, wincing even as the soft silk brushes her tortured nipples. She ties another around her hips as a skirt noting the mass of bruising on her bottom and then dons her ankle boots before leaving.


LATER THAT DAY

Lash is waiting when Hannah returns to the stables driving Enz'rak between the shafts of a training gig. The pony is bathed in sweat, high trotting with tired legs as she enters the stable yard. She watches as Hannah unbridles the pony and then removes her harness, noting the large phallus attached to the crotch strap of the girl's harness. Hannah cuffs the girls wrists and leads her, walking stiffly, to the showers where she chains her with her wrists above her head and washes her down. She notes that Hannah is barefoot and does not undress while grooming, and how the wet silk clings to her body, the water making it almost translucent. She sees too that as Hannah's hands move over the dark skin the girl squirms slightly and that as Hannah soaps her large breasts the nipples swell responsively. Finally she sees Hannah slip her hands between the girls powerful thighs and watches as the girl sways with pleasure coming quickly at her mistress' touch.

Eventually Enz'rak is chained in her stall, arms behind her back and a collar around her throat. Hannah leaves her food and water before bidding her good night.

'I am sorry.'

'You should be.'

Lash holds out a small flower, a winter rose that she has picked from the ledge to which to took Hannah to show her the desert to the south.

'I believe it is common practice in the north to offer flowers as a gift.'

'It is Lash. It's also common practice not to beat the crap out of your pledged slave.'

'Hannah, my concept of slavery is very different to your own. I am truly sorry for my actions last night and ask to be forgiven.'

'What about your actions to Enz'rak ?'

Lash pauses for a moment. 'I was wrong to command the guards to keep shaving her and confining her strictly but I would ask you not to make me speak to her of it. I fear that, as I am ignorant of the ways on Bellania you have more to learn about the ways of the desert.'

Hannah looks across at Enz'rak kneeling in her stall, head down feeding from her bowl.

'Alright, Lash, you are forgiven and I promise to try to understand you.'

'I also promise to understand you too, Hannah Pink.'

'And we both need to do something about that temper of yours.' Hannah slips and arm around Lash's and leads her from the stable yard.


CHAPTER 9

THE FETTERED SLAVE, A BAR IN LINDEN, SEVERAL WEEKS LATER

The bar is loud, its patrons raucous. Hannah sits at a table with a the grooms she encounters during her work at the stable. It is payday and a drinking party is inevitable.

'She can beat all comers.' Hannah looks round awaiting a challenge. She continues to dress in the pink silk kri, one around her chest and the other around her loins as a skirt. Her fellow grooms have come to accept this though she is aware of the occasional lewd comment and is careful when she bends over to avoid a slap or even a blow of the whip to her bottom. As yet she has not retrieved her boots from the pawn shop though she has now earned enough money to do so; she thus still wears the toe boots though, like Lash has begun to spend an increasing amount of time barefoot.

They are conversing in Donan and Hannah's ability to understand and, speak it with increasingly fluency has helped with her acceptance.

'I don't think your Beauty has the stamina.' Raquel Montserrat is the head groom. A buxom country girl with straw blonde hair.

'Like the Lady Pauline ?' Calico Scarletti is another of the grooms and perhaps the most experienced. She nudges her neighbour as she speaks winking across the table.

All are familiar with Raquel's attachment to the Lady Pauline and of the head groom's regular visits to the girl's stall after training.

'You're just jealous.' Raquel colours slightly though this may be the alcohol she has consumed. 'Any way she's a very talented pony.'

Calico curls her tongue lasciviously. 'A girl of many talents which I think sometimes get reciprocated.' Calico gives a knowing look and another nudge to her neighbour.

'She's been conditioned she can barely cough without climaxing. You've only got to brush one of those nipple rings and she'll come.'

'Anyway.' Hannah calls attention back to her point. 'I say Beauty can beat all comers and I'm willing to bet this months...well, what's left of this month's salary on it.'

'I can take her with Trance.' Calico looks meaningfully at Hannah.'

'A wager.' Dominiqua Delores throws a purse onto the table. 'Sleek will take all comers at the Derby.'

'How about your precious Princess ?' Calico looks at Raquel.

'I'm in.' Raquel smiles. 'She'll take the lot of you. It's just a shame La Donna won't be putting Princess on the circuit.'


THE STABLES, CHATEAU KLAW

Pauline jerks awake in her bonds opening her eyes but, hooded, she remains in darkness. She lies on her back in her cot, wrists chained above her head and ankles chained apart, kept on her back by chains to a steel collar and matching steel belt locked around her waist. She is kept like this at night as are many of the conditioned slaves to control her arousal. Chained like this she cannot touch herself or rub any of her sensitive spots against anything to gain pleasure. On this occasion it is because of the race she will running in the following day.

However, she has woken like this several times now, her heart beating hard, her breathing rapid through the ring of her gag, her body warm, particularly in her loins and thighs; she can feel her nipples are stiffly erect and her pussy is wet.

She knows that, in the past, when she has woken like this it is because she is close to orgasm and, when free she has slipped her fingers between her legs to finish herself off, perhaps even masturbating in her sleep.

She has been dreaming of Juliana, dreaming that she was crawling beside her blonde slave lover, leashed and chained and deliciously naked. Juliana was dressed in black leather thigh boots and Pauline had been rubbing her slave body lasciviously against them; Juliana had drawn her whip and commanded her onto her back making her spread her legs before bringing the whip down hard and gaping pussy.

She knows she has come, and it is not the first time tonight.

Gaia, I'm hot !

She pulls gently on her bonds, hearing the reassuring click of her chains and settles back to sleep smiling around her gag.


IL CAMPO, A FIELD NEAR LINDEN

Every woman and girl in Linden and the surrounding countryside appears to have turned out to gawp and cheer as the ponies trot past pulling their gigs and drivers en route to the Campo. Barriers have been erected to keep the masses back and guards in azure dress tunics are present as a demonstration of La Donna's power and to keep order.

The day of the Palio has dawned bright and clear and the morning sun is just beginning to lift the chill from the frosty early spring morning. Ahead of her Hannah can see the azure standards of House Milan shining in the sunlight where they surround the circuit which lies just beyond the west end of the town. She has been up since before dawn, working, initially in the darkness, to ensure all is ready for the day, putting a last shine to Beauty's harness and making final adjustments to her tack. She is dressed, as always now in her pink silks, eschewing the usual leathers of the grooms though in the chill morning she is struggling not to shiver.

The drivers and ponies have been training hard for weeks though whether the intensity of this is for glory or inspired by their reckless wagering Hannah cannot know.

Ahead of her, leading the parade is Princess, her skin oiled and her harnessed polished until it gleams. Her groom, Raquel wears an azure sash and her gig is painted in the colours of the House of Milan and decorated with the crowned black panther en bas. Dominiqua follows with Sleek and then two other grooms with their ponies.

Their positions represent their results in training. Beauty, Enz'rak is fifth, ahead of eleven other ponies including Calico with Trance who fell in training and is running with a heavily bandaged knee.

Steam is rising from Beauty's shoulders. Hannah has made her a harness out of white leather with gold buckles that shines against her black skin. A single pink plume marks her out as Hannah's. She is running her in the northern style with her arms crossed behind her back between her shoulder blades; this so-called 'racing cross' allows better use of the whip. The Pre'stkwe'in is blinkered too and run with a large bit to ensure immediate response. The pony is no longer the willful and disobedient creature she once was but the training has restored her prideful nature though sometimes Hannah has difficulty controlling her, particularly in holding her back to ensure a measured pace. The blinkers thus give some limitation to her view of her competitors but at the cost of needing to be driven hard when Hannah can see the tactical advantage. The harness supports the pony's breasts, rings of leather circling their bases and thin straps holding gold rings around her nipples. Hannah has not had the girl pierced though she has considered it, particularly a clit ring to aid her control. However, after discussion of the possible consequences with Lash she has decided that the trust she has gained is more important.

Beauty's harness leaves the woman's midriff bare aside from a single strap at the front that runs between her legs holding the large phallus inside her; many ponies, certainly those that are also conditioned slaves appear to find running with such stimulation far too distracting but Hannah thinks it increases Beauty's drive. Unlike most of the southern ponies, Beauty's harness carries a tail which hangs from the base of her spine; though the woman's hair has grown a little in the time they have been training together it is not nearly long enough to pull back into a pony tail and Hannah is superstitious enough to feel her pony needs one.

The pony's boots come up to her knees and are fitted with steel blades which, while heavier than the carbon fibre ones offer better performance for a pony of Beauty's stature. With the need to purchase harness buckles and boots, Hannah found little money left but Jezebel has acquired her a racing gig in light carbon fibre; though it is in a shocking pink the colour nearly matching Hannah's kri.

Rumours of the 'black skin' have spread through Linden and there is as much curiosity about her as there is about La Donna's hooded pony girl.

As they near the Campo Hannah can see more of the crowds in the stand along the far side of the three hundred yard compacted earth circuit. The aristocracy wait here, many shivering like her in their fine silks or dress harnesses. All are accompanied by their slaves many naked, their lush bodies adorned with jeweled piercings on display as a mark of their owners' status. She spots Fetish high in the stands next to the royal box accompanied by her two blonde slaves, the Angel, Daisy and Gwen, the former Harmony police trooper. Both girls stand beside their mistress with their elbows linked behind their backs and their mitted hands chained to their clit piercings in a posture that thrusts their enormous breasts forward. Both slaves now lactate, their huge nipples, stiffly erect from the chill air if not from the girls' conditioned arousal, dripping milk constantly. Fetish has freed Daisy's legs from the chains that kept her kneeling, allowing her to stand, though she is still welded into the steel corset with its breast rings and nipple cuffs; the matching cuffs around her wrists, upper arms, thighs and ankles are still in place. Fetish has commissioned a similar costume for Gwen though in gold with silver decoration in contrast to Daisy's. The villainess leads both her slaves, Gwen now being fully pierced, on trinities. The two girls make a perfect, if not completely matching, pair, both welded into identical restraints, both big breasted and blonde, albeit that Gwen's hair is dyed; their bodies are similar too though the Bellanian's skin is darker, tanned, compared to the Angel's pale, creamy complexion; Gwen and Daisy have become lovers and are caged together at night when they are not being punished, they thus suckle each others' breasts daily, something that has, much to Fetish's delight, lead to Gwen finally gaining a pleasing fullness to her figure, much at odds with the Belladonian ideal of slimness. That the girls are intensely in love or, at the very least filled with hot slave lust for each other, is clear from the way they glance at each other every few moments, smiling around their gags as their eyes meet.

More guards are stationed along the front of the stand and Hannah spots Lash prowling anxiously to ensure all the security arrangements she has planned are in place.

La Donna arrives by flyer, piloted by Jezebel. The sleek black craft circles once and settles in a roar of engines driving up dust and debris and lifting the short tunics of the guards who line the azure carpet laid for her short walk to the stands. As she emerges her honour guard snaps to attention and the crowd cheers hailing their monarch.

Lady Simone is dressed in a fighting harness with thigh high leather boots, she carries a whip and leads Anastasia, suitably harnessed and bridled like a pony, her arms restrained behind her back in a slave sheath, her large breasts decorated with nipple bells.

Hannah watches as the queen ascends the steps to her box nodding to favoured nobles and, as she nears the top to Fetish who bows formally. At the top, La Donna turns raising her arms to her people and the cheers increase to feverish level of excitement then, in a dramatic gesture she lowers her arms and hurls the whip into the centre of the Campo. As if flies through the air a silence descends and then, as it lands on the inner edge of the track near the start and finish line a different hubbub ensues. Hannah watches as wagers are laid, money, jewels and even slaves used as collateral to secure stakes.

The races are run in stages, heats in which four ponies drawn at random run together for four circuits then, when all sixteen have run, the second round begins, a single lap, perhaps the most exciting, a sprint. After this will come the long distance event, thirty five laps, two leagues, a grueling test in which all the ponies run together, the leading ones being given the most advantageous slots on the starting grid. Hannah has been warned this can be a dangerous event with so many drivers, ponies and gigs jockeying for position.

The final, should she and Beauty make it that far, is another four lap race between those scoring most points from the three heats.

'Got a plan then BG ?'

Hannah looks up to find Jezebel standing beside her. She grins. "Nothing that I'm sharing with you.'

'BG I'm hurt. As your sponsor I feel I should have some inside information.'

'Jez ! Lending me a stolen gig does not amount to a sponsorship deal.'

'How d'you know I didn't have it custom made ?'

'In this colour ?'

'I chose it to match your outfit.'

'Course you did.'

'Don't let me down, BG. I've got a lot of money riding on you.'

'I'm flattered.'

'BG, I trust you.' Jezebel lowers her voice into a whisper and leans closer. 'In fact you're probably the only one I do trust around here.'

'Now you're just flattering me.'

'No, I mean it, BG. You're a girl who gets things done, a girl who can be trusted to accomplish a mission.' Jezebel emphasises the last word of the sentence.

Hannah looks at the villainess sharply.

'Or at least win me a stack of money.' Jezebel grins and pats Hannah on the back. 'Enjoy the day.' The villainess strides away, presumably to find Tamzin.

Beauty is drawn to run in the second heat and Hannah watches carefully as the ponies and drivers line up on the start line. Princess is in the second lane and Hannah can see her prancing nervously between the shafts of Raquel's gig. Hannah has to admit the slave looks magnificent, her oiled body and sleek dark pony tail shining in the sun. Her harness is of azure blue leather, a lightweight racing harness of multiple thin straps that dimple the flesh of her toned body. Her blades are clearly carbon fibre, flexing beneath her weight more than Beauty's and much lighter to give her the edge over the longer distances. She is run, as always now, on nipple reins and Hannah cannot but admire the girl's resolve; kidnapped and enslaved, trained and conditioned, run now as a hooded, ringed and utterly submissive slave-pony; Pauline has not only accepted her slavery but embraced it.

Princess is running against Trance with her bandaged knee. Calico's pony is a tall, slim Angel with long legs that give her a good stride, particularly in blades; the girl has a wiry strength but not the power of Pauline and certainly not of Beauty; she is good over long distances where, lightly harnessed and drawing the slight Calico who is even smaller than Hannah, she has a distinct advantage. Hannah had expected Trance to win the distance event but, with her injury is not sure. The girl wears rubber thigh boots, presumably to hide and support her injury, that match the shiny red rubber bodice Calico frequently dresses her pony in for events; the girl's thin frame leaves her prone to getting cold and the thin layer of rubber keeps off any chillness in the breeze. Hannah looks up at the sun which seems finally to be warming the world around her and wonders if Trance may get a little too warm. Like Hannah, Calico is using a northern style bridle and harness keeping Trance's arms folded behind her in a racing cross; she has also piled Trance's ankle length blonde hair high on her head, it is platted and twisted decoratively but Hannah suspects this is mostly to keep it clear of her back so the driver can use her whip freely. Hannah watches as Trance stretches as much as her bonds allow, flexing her long legs and hips while elegantly maintaining her balance.

The other two ponies are southern girls, typical slim brunettes with chestnut brown hair, good pony material but lacking any star quality. They are regular racers, both clearly slaves, branded and pierced and naked apart from their boots and harnesses. They are both, like Pauline, harnessed in the southern style with slave sheaths holding their arms behind their back, run with nipple reins and a clit strap.

With the ponies lined up the starting gun fires and the crowd roars, encouraging their favourite forward though all four girls are further encouraged by their drivers' whips. Trance has raced in the stadium before and is known to the crowd, both the southern girls are also well known ponies with their own followers, being La Donna's pony, Princess has attracted much attention and, despite this being her first race, her odds have come down, particularly since her confident appearance entering the stadium.

Calico appears to be holding Trance back, presumably to test her knee before pushing her harder; one of the southern girls takes the lead and the girls settle in to a slow canter for the first lap. Hannah watches Princess, enjoying now by the girl's poise and technique, her confidence as she runs harnessed and hooded, guided by her nipple reins; her long, light strides as she draws the gig behind her with apparent ease; glossy hair flying behind her and the delicious bounce of her large breasts. Hannah is clearly not the only one focussing on the captive princess for, as she stumbles briefly on an uneven section of track, earning her a sharp crack from Raquel's whip a howl of despair fills the air.

Raquel holds her pony in second place for the first two laps but then, in the third, as Calico pushes trance ahead, using the whip hard on the Angel's hindquarters, Raquel gives Princess a single sharp stinging blow to the buttocks and shakes her nipple reins, encouraging the brunette to match the blonde's pace; the pair pass the southern pony who has been leading and is clearly panting hard and accelerate into the final lap.

The crowd roar as the ponies enter the final straight at full gallop, Trance apparently unhampered by her injury and princess running in blind obedience to her driver's will. Trance's stride are longer and, as they approach the finish, she begins to ease ahead but Raquel gives Princess one final encouragement with her whip and the brunette responds with a burst of power that has her taking the line by little more than the size of her magnificent bust. The head groom raises her whip in triumph and eases back on the reins, drawing her pony to a halt. The princess' chest is heaving and her skin glowing. The groom dismounts and pats the girl gently on the bottom before stroking one of her huge brown nipples.

Calico drives Trance over to the pair to congratulate Raquel then dismounts and leads her pony towards the paddock where Hannah and the other ponies are waiting. Hannah can see that Trance is clearly limping. The drivers of the other gigs follow Calico and Trance, the first being gently caressed by her driver but the second, who has come in some way behind being chastised with a series of sharp blows from the crop to her buttocks.

It is nevertheless, Pauline who has set the crowd in motion and Hannah realises the princess is going to be the pony to beat.

Hannah's heat is unremarkable from her point of view. She draws the inside lane and uses Beauty's power to take the lead early then keeps the dark skinned girl tightly reined in, just ahead of the competition until the final straight when she allows the pony her head enjoying the raw power of the harnessed woman. Hannah and her pony win comfortably, a good few lengths ahead of the second place. The crowd do not show quite the enthusiasm for Beauty as they did for Princess though Hannah can see some of the more experienced racegoers watching her pony carefully, no doubt gauging her skill and stamina and her driver's choice of blade. Whatever the punters conclude, Beauty's odds quickly fall and Hannah is reminded of Jezebel.

Beauty wins her sprint too, pulling away at the start with such force that Hannah is almost unseated. She is racing against Maiden, a redheaded slave from the far north who looks to Hannah like one of Lady Bishop's swordmaidens though how such a girl could became a slave in Donia is beyond her. The redhead is slightly more muscular than Beauty and pushes the dark skinned pony hard but in the end it is Beauty's fluid motion that just gives her the edge and begins to win her the hearts of the crowd.

As Hannah leads a panting Beauty back to the paddock the girl suddenly nuzzles up to her driver and Hannah gently kisses her on the cheek above her bit strap. The girl's scent is strong, more pungent than Lash's but similar, reminding her of the dryness of the desert and spice. The girl is smiling around her bit.

At the end of the morning Beauty and Princess lead the field with a maximum of eight points and Calico has withdrawn Trance after pulling the blonde up part way through the sprint.

As the crowd seek refreshment Hannah gives Beauty a drink from her water bottle and then releases the pony from her traces before sitting her down, with her legs spread wide; the blonde then kneels between them where she begins to massage the pony's legs, stretching the muscles, something Beauty seems to enjoy from the flashes of her white teeth and sparkle in her dark eyes.

There is little shelter in the paddock to ensure the ponies are kept on display and as Hannah feels the heat of the sun on her bare skin she begins to wish she had prepared herself a little more for the day. She has oiled Beauty, something she might not have thought to do had it not been suggested by Lash.

'Do you have to do that quite so openly ?'

Hannah looks up to find Jezebel standing over her. She has Tamzin on a leash behind her; the redhead is dressed in a blue bikini which sparkles in the sunlight and her pale skin has clearly been oiled to protect it from the sun. She is gagged with a large blue ball but this has clearly only just been inserted as she has traces of sauce on her chin and breasts where her mistress has obviously just fed her. Jezebel has restrained her slave in a blue slave sheath and the girl's ankles are hobbled with a short chain.

'You want her to win don't you ?' Hannah looks up at the brunette, shielding her eyes from the sun.

'Do we want her to win ?' Jezebel looks at Tamzin who nods emphatically. She turns back to Boot Girl. 'So BG, what's the plan ?'

Hannah frowns. 'Need to know basis Jez !'

'Fair enough.' The brunette appears to accept the rebuff. 'Brought you a couple of things.' Jezebel says holding out a bag. 'You're good BG, but planning is not your strongpoint. I'm not saying you have to look after number one all the time but if you don't nobody else will...except me, of course.'

Jezebel's parcel contains a bottle of water and some pastries in a refrigeration bag. There is also a bottle of sun lotion.

'I'd offer to rub it in for you BG but Lash would get all jealous and moody.'

'Thanks, Jez.' Hannah smiles.

'Put it on now or your shoulder's will be pinker than your kri. Northern girl like you needs to be careful in the southern sun !' Jezebel winks then turns and leads Tamzin away.

With the crowd mostly fed, at least those that can afford it, there is a demonstration of dressage by La Donna's personal ponies, Busty and Lusty. Beauty is back in her traces and Hannah leaves the pony in what shade she can find as she strolls across to the paddock fence to watch the girls in action, dabbing sun oil on her back as she goes. The girls have just taken the field under direction from Raquel. Both ponies are hooded and harnessed, driven by nipple and clit reins; they wear heavy ornamental dressage harnesses, the buckles and studs sparkling in the sunlight; their harnesses have little half cup bras that support the girls' huge breasts, making the nipples, pierced with huge rings jut out; each has a corset too pinching the girls' waists and supporting their thigh high boots; a crotch strap disappears between each girl's legs and from the way they prance it is clear that both girls are plugged, probably in both orifices and both are clearly enjoying experience particularly as they lift their knees in a high trot; the crotch straps clearly provide more stimulation and the tugs on their clits do the rest from where they are stretched through the small hole in the leather that allows each girl's clit rein to be attached.

Raquel drives them through a series of intricate challenges; slalems, reverses, ramps and even balances the gig and ponies on a giant see-saw. When she has finished she drives them one circuit of the track while the crowd throw rose petals although, Hannah supposes ,the hooded ponies are largely oblivious to much of the adulation.

The long distance event sees Beauty and Princess in the lead positions on the starting grid. Ahead on points, if either of them comes in the top six they will carry the day. The race is run over thirty five laps, designed to test stamina and, especially for those further down the field, pace. Tactics are very different over this distance which most working ponies can easily handle, however, the competition will push them to a much higher pace.

Hannah looks across at Raquel who nods.

And then they are off, whips cracking across the hind quarters of the ponies who strain against their harnesses, riders jockeying for position, those behind trying to advance and those ahead trying to block them. As they come into the first bend Princess leads with Beauty second. When Hannah glances back she sees the pack a little behind them lead by Candice, a girl of Bellanian origin with long legs and a slight build that make her good over distances, behind her is Dulcet, a stocky blonde country girl who is new to the stables and, Hannah thinks does not have the stamina to maintain the pace; Maiden is behind, with a determination in her blue eyes that suggests she has plans to go the distance.

Hannah settles Beauty in to a slow canter keeping tightly in behind Princess and, though the dark skinned girl clearly wants to take the lead, Hannah holds her back and, to her relief, the pony obeys. Beauty's movement is graceful, almost matching that of Princess; the girl's legs are not long though they are powerful, muscles rippling as she runs, the blades extend her stride, the steel giving her more power with each step than Pauline's so Beauty seems to be running at a more leisurely pace.

As they enter the fourth lap, Hannah catches a movement beside her and turns to see Dulcet coming up beside her, the blonde is being driven hard, Maria's whip lashing her shoulders, buttocks and thighs where they are accessible around the slave sheath that binds her arms behind her, the girl is running with her head back at a fast canter. Suddenly Hannah feels a sting on the side of her cheek and raises her whip hand reflexively assuming Maria has caught her with the whip accidentally; a second blow catches her on the side of the chest just below her nipple and she realises Maria is using her whip on her deliberately, she turns to shout at the petite southerner, clad as always from head to foot in tight rubber, the girl is almost level with Hannah now, grinning maniacally with a sadistic look in her large, dark eyes. Before Hannah can take any action she whips Dulcet to a full gallop and, as she does so delivers a sharp blow to Beauty's hind quarters. With the blonde pony pulling past her and an apparent signal from her driver, Beauty accelerates chasing Dulcet, maintaining pace with Maria's gig. Maria turns and winks at Hannah then lashes Beauty hard.

Bitch !

Beauty steps out obediently into a full gallop chasing Dulcet as Hannah tries to rein her in wishing, not for the first time that she had a clit line. In moments they are closing on Princess with the bend approaching, Dulcet level with Raquel in her gig, and Hannah feels Beauty step out, unbidden to pass the enslaved princess and her driver.

Hannah pulls hard on Beauty's reins but on the bend she has less control, Beauty, unlike princess can see what is happening ahead of her.

Clit and nipples for the next race - and a hood !

It is probably the fact that Beauty can see that saves them. Maria repeats her attack as she passes Princess and the hooded girl responds just as Beauty did. The attack on Princess is far more fierce and Pauline responds with her usual enthusiastic obedience, increasing to a full gallop and beginning to pull away from Beauty. Hannah lets the gap widen, and, as they enter the back straight finally manages to pull her pony back from her gallop. She can see Beauty is breathing hard, sweat on her flanks, her dark skin almost radiating heat.

Ahead, Princess is entering the next bend, finally slowing too with Raquel pulling hard on the helpless girl's clit rein. Dulcet leads but Hannah knows the blonde cannot maintain the pace.

Someone's gonna earn a shedload from that.

Hannah turns back. The pack is just coming out of the bend, some twenty yards behind her, Maiden is leading with the southerner who earned herself such a sound whipping after the first race on her outside. The margin is still comfortable but half a lap at full gallop this early with so many laps to go may have taken a toll on Beauty's stamina, particularly with the heavy steel blades.

To the crowd, however, this incident has only served to whip up further excitement and the cheers of encouragement as Dulcet and then Princess pass the stands roll across the Campo like a wave.


THE ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

'That's her, isn't it ?' Lady de Renee indicates the video screen stretched across the wall of the operations room. It displays the Palio, the southern Derby for pony and single gig, it displays too a hooded pony, naked except for her harness, arms sheathed, running elegantly on her blades drawing an azure racing gig emblazoned with the leaping panther of House Milan. The pony has the dark glossy hair of a Bellanian girl though her skin is tanned, she has huge breasts which bounce almost mesmerisingly as she runs, guided by reins clipped to her pierced nipples, a clit rein flutters where it runs under slight tension from between her legs to the hands of her driver, a buxom blonde in a tight latex bodice, black knickers and thigh boots.

'It is possible, Madam.' Adele shifts nervously, her hand unconsciously going to her breasts in anticipation of the punishment this revelation will engender.

'Out ! All of you.' The contesse's tone is commanding, unquestionable even if a little higher than usual, a marker of her fury.

There is a moment's hesitation as her guards and analysts look nervously at each other. The operations room is the hub of the palace and to leave it unwatched is tantamount to negligence.

'Now.' Lady de Renee almost screams the order.

Adele nods subtly to their unspoken question increasing her queen's rage still further.

The guards, analysts and techs shuffle out uncomfortably.

Lady de Renee turns on her advisor, unleashing the full force of her ire.

'It's been eight months. Eight months since my daughter was taken from me !' The contesse's dark eyes flash angrily and she tosses her head shaking her long dark hair wildly. 'Have you made any progress ?'

Adele does her best to stand her ground. The blonde is physically larger and stronger than her mistress but her duty and her love bind her in submission to her queen and mistress.

'Officially Donia denies that they have her.'

'Bullshit !'

Adele smiles weakly. 'Our sources are sure that they have her.'

'I know they fucking have her !' Contesse de Renee gestures to the screen, the busty ponygirl running, hooded and harnessed, obedient under the whip. 'Just fucking well get her back.'

'I have my...best agent on it, my Lady.' Adele pales a little under the intensity of Lady de Renee's anger and her description of her sister.

'And what has your bloody agent achieved in eight months ?'

Adele looks around nervously. Her agents are loyal to her and she returns that loyalty fiercely, unwilling even to reveal their activities to her queen; even her less trusted agents.

'Tell me, Adele or it's going to be a very long and uncomfortable night for you.' Lady de Renee looks meaningfully at Adele's large breasts. 'Believe me, your breasts will seek a divorce from your body after what I'm planning to do to them.'

'My agent has the matter in hand, Madam.' Adele bows.

The corner of the contesse's mouth twitches in a way that shows the depth of her anger and her desire to vent it. 'Then you'd better bloody well get upstairs and prepare yourself for a good beating. I want you cuffed and naked and believe me, if your agent doesn't get a result soon tonight is going to be nothing compared to the pain I'll inflict on you.'

'Yes, Madam.' Adele bows and withdraws to prepare herself for her punishment.


IL CAMPO, DONIA

Dulcet leads for another three laps but is clearly tiring. Raquel holds Princess back, presumably to rest her but also to prevent any further sabotage, finally, however, Dulcet's canter is slow enough for Raquel to whip Princess in to a fast canter; the brunette responds magnificently, striding out, her movements graceful, her naked skin glistening in the afternoon sunlight. Hannah follows some thirty seconds later, taking the opportunity to close the gap on Princess a little. As she passes Maria she cannot resist using her whip to deliver a sharp blow to the petite brunette's tight rubber clad bottom.

There are two more attempts to pass the leaders at least one of which, like Maria is a tactical assault designed to disrupt the ponies' rhythms or ruffle their drivers enough to make an error. Both fall back but provide excitement for the crowd.

They are seven laps from the end when Beauty begins to tire. Hannah notices a slacking in her pace, minimal at first and then, a lap later more obvious. She has gained distance on Princess and the pony is no more than three paces behind Raquel's shiny racing gig. As the distance rises to four paces Hannah looks behind her. The pack are closing, lead now by Maiden, who is no more than half a dozen yards behind her and gaining ground. The northerner's pale skin is glowing and the look in her eyes shows an almost trancelike state; her face beneath the bridle is set in a determined expression.

Now or never, girl.

She whips Beauty, driving her towards a fast canter, certainly the best she can manage in her current state if she is to save anything for the end of the race. Hannah can see the effort the girl is using to lift her tired legs weighted with the steel blades.

Raquel's gig creeps slowly closer and Hannah thinks Pauline must be tiring too.

With four laps to go Maiden is almost on her. The pony is probably a good number of years older than Pauline perhaps giving her a stamina that will surpass both the princess and the Pre'stkwe'in. Hannah knows if she doesn't act now she is in danger of being boxed in.

She flicks the whip and shakes the reins encouraging Beauty to a gallop as they emerge from the bend in front of the stands. The dark skinned girl responds with enthusiasm, lifting her tired legs and lengthening her stride to chase the brunette ahead of her. Maiden responds too, her driver liberally using her whip across the redhead's hind quarters so that both ponies bear down on the queen's favourite.

Raquel is not to be outdone and moments later all three girls are galloping down the straight, Princess a few paces in the lead, then Beauty and outside her, Maiden. The bend gives Princess the advantage and, with Beauty tiring she cannot hold off the challenge from Maiden. Hannah can see the redhead firm buttocks and powerful legs, her hair flies wildly as she runs. The northerner runs in what is sometimes called the Angelsich style, mitted hands grasping the shafts; the leather mitts are, of course, sewn in place. They do give a pony more control over a gig. The arrangement is often used by ponies for hire in Angeland and Bellania where such transport is not drawn by slaves.

Hannah recalls the strength and determination of the swordmaidens she encountered in the north and fears Maiden has been holding back.

On the penultimate lap Hannah is in third place, Beauty clearly struggling, her chest heaving, her flanks covered in sweat but when she gives the girl free rein the pony lengthens her stride, holding on to the leading pair. All three are cantering now, the leaders pulled back from the fierce intensity of their earlier gallop.

Then they are in the final lap. Hannah sees Raquel whip Princess hard and the young pony stretches herself to a close approximation of a gallop. Maiden stays at a canter.

Go on girl !

Hannah whips Beauty just once and the girl responds magnificently, taking Maiden on the bend and gaining on Princess.

And then they are coming into the final straight, Maiden opening her powerful legs into a thunderous gallop that draws her rapidly back into the fray and Princess, hooded but no doubt aware from the roar of the crowd how close the contest must be, responding obediently to the whip dancing liberally across her back and buttocks; with a hundred yards to go she and Beauty are nipple to nipple, first one ahead then the other.

The crowd roar their encouragement and it is Beauty who crosses this line first, just edging ahead in the final few meters but even then Hannah looks around in disbelief, realising that Raquel and Maiden's driver are half a pace behind her. The crowd are ecstatic on their feet cheering wildly as Hannah slows Beauty to a trot and then a walk, Maiden and Princess dropping behind her.

'Just one more.' Hannah calls out in Pre'stkwe and she sees Beauty nod.

The dark skinned pony lifts her tired legs, once more into a trot.


THE PUNISHMENT ROOM, ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

The palace punishment room is on the twenty third floor adjacent, in fact, to Pauline's room in the palace and some ten floors below the contesse's penthouse apartment.

'Been a little gentle on yourself, haven't you, Adele.' Lady de Renee enters the chamber some forty minutes after her dismissal of Adele. The Contesse still wears her tight leather catsuit, deliciously figurehugging and one of Adele's favourites. Her long dark hair hangs loose to her waist swishing behind her back as she walks, hips swaying on her 5 inch heels.

Adele bows her head submitting to her mistress' criticism; gagged by her own hand she cannot respond. She stands, naked, feet apart wrists cuffed behind her back linked by a chain to the ceiling, a heavy collar around her neck linked by two short chains to matching cuffs around her ankles that keep her bent at the waist. Binding herself she has not been able to ensure her cuffed wrists are drawn as far skyward as she, or her mistress, would have liked. She has tightened steel torques around her breasts and already the flesh is dusky and tender; weighted clamps swing from each of her nipples and another from her clit.

Lady de Renee circles her helpless advisor and lover, drawing a long cane from the bucket housing a selection of crops and whips including one identical to the steel cored discipline whip she prefers for punishing Adele's breasts.

'Legs wider.' Lady de Renee kicks Adele's foot pushing the helpless woman's ankles further apart and increasing the tension on her arms; the nipple and clit weights swing wildly. She strokes the cane over Adele's bare bottom and then lands a heavy blow.

'Better, but I think we can improve things.' The contesse resheaths her cane and crosses to the control that operates the ceiling chain. The device is similar to those commonly found in Belladonian chambers and operates a winch allowing slaves or submissives to be suspended for their mistress' pleasure. Lady de Renee activates the control and Adele's arms are racket up higher behind her back and forcing the helpless woman up onto the balls of her feet.

'Much better.' Lady de Renee smiles. 'Let's keep you like that shall we ?'

Adele is well used to the position and, though her heels are raised and her legs spread, she holds her body still; such control is a kindness to her much abused nipples and, in this case, to her clitoris too.

The contesse crosses to a rack of discipline equipment adorning most of the wall of the punishment chamber and picks up a spreader bar then, crouching behind her helpless lover she locks it to the helpless woman's ankle cuffs.

'If you'd done the job properly I wouldn't have to be doing this.' The contesse stands and sweeps her long dark hair away from her face as she surveys her helpless lover; then, smiling she turns and picks up a heavy black leather strap which she proceeds to wind around Adele's elbows, pulling this closer.

'That's better.'

Even if she could, Adele would not have pointed out that restraining herself any more securely would have been impossible.

The contesse goes back to the wall and activates the winch again taking Adele's arms almost vertical. Lifted on to her bare toes, the helpless woman teeters and gives a small grunt through her gag.

'Not complaining I hope.' Lady de Renee gives the hoist's switch a final flick and then retrieves her cane.

After two hours, Adele's bottom is glowing red, a mass of crossing red stripes that have coalesced, blistering in places to form one hot pulsating mass of pain. The backs of her thighs, calves, lower back and upper arms have also suffered similarly if not as intensely. Her nipples and clit have become hot points of agony, stretched as they are by the weights the blonde herself originally applied to them and the extra weights the contesse has added. Stretched on her toes and almost swinging at times by her arms pulled painfully up behind her back Adele has endured one of the most intense punishments of her life. The position of her bondage has, to some degree, protected her breasts although the contesse has used a driving whip on the sides of her large globes, already swollen and tender due to the tight torques around their bases. The soles of Adele's feet have suffered too and she has been repeatedly commanded to lift them which she has done awkwardly with the spreader bar separating her ankles to allow her mistress to whip them both with the cane and the discipline whip.

Usually stoical under such treatment Adele has been taken beyond her limits and has wept openly, pleading through her gag for mercy from her mistress, a mercy she knew she will not receive; she now hangs from her cuffed wrists, too exhausted to stand; but, far worse then her inability to endure the physical pain, Adele knows she has failed her beloved mistress.

The contesse flicks the switch that lowers the hook holding Adele's wrists and the helpless blonde drops gratefully to her knees, too weak to stand, forced to kneel with her ankles still spread wide by the spreader bar.

'I hope you've learned your lesson.'

Adele nods miserably.

'You've failed me, Adele. Worse still you've failed Pauline.'

Adele kneels with her head down and Lady de Renee releases her wrists from the hook that holds them up behind her back; the are still cuffed and Adele's elbows are held close together by the strap around them.

The contesse releases her lover's ankles from the spreader bar and Adele gratefully draws her legs together into a more comfortable position.

'I've listened to you for long enough.' The contesse' voice is resolute. 'I'm going to get my daughter back.'

Exhausted and weakened as she is, Adele shakes her head. She has no strength left to protest.

'How dare you defy me.' Lady de Renee snatches up the discipline whip and delivers a flurry of blows the Adele's throbbing breasts; the nipple weights dance violently and the helpless woman moans pitifully.

Finally, the contesse' fury is spent and she throws the whip to the floor leaving Adele kneeling, sobbing in the centre of the punishment room. As she leaves the contesse turns to her lover and vassal. 'Await me in my chamber. If your lucky I'll punish you later.' She turns to go. 'Now, I have a war to prepare for.'

The contesse strides down the corridor and Adele kneels trying to compose herself then, miserably, she crawls towards the door, still cuffed and bound, the weights on her nipples swinging painfully and the one clamped to her clit dragging behind her. The punishment room is on the twenty third floor of the palace, ten below her mistress' chambers. In her current state she cannot use the lift and will have to crawl up the ten flights of stairs.


CASTLE KLAW, DONIA

'Remember, La Donna insists she is hooded while she trains.' Raquel reminds Hannah, not for the first time.

'I know.' Hannah tries to sound reassuring although her patience is wearing thin. Raquel has run through Princess' training schedule at least half a dozen times in the last two days as she prepares to return home. The country girl's sister has been involved in some sort of freak farming accident and, living in the north of Donia has been taken to the hospital Harmony. Raquel is preparing to travel north.

Hannah has mixed feelings about the arrangement that she cares for Princess while the head groom is away; a curious mix of discomfort at being confronted by her failure to take any action to engineer the slave's escape and a strange excitement to share her company again.

'I'll be fine.' She reassure Raquel trying for force the woman out of the castle gate.

Just keep reminding yourself what she did to you when our roles were reversed.


THE STABLES

Hannah peers over the door of Princess' stall. The pony is clearly asleep in her chains, her head bowed forward, her rich dark hair hanging loose over her huge breasts that rise and fall rhythmically. She kneels astride the sleeper, the heavy wooden runner that is bolted to the stone floor of the stall, running from the front to the back, the sleeper is fitted with various rings and eyebolts that allow the pony stabled in the stall to be restrained in a variety of ways. Princess' bondage is simple, she kneels with her legs either side of the sleeper, her ankles cuffed in place and a bar over the back of her knees to stop her rising, her arms are stretched out, wrists a little above the level of her shoulders and chained to the top of the wooden partitions separating the stall from its neighbours. The tension in the chains holding her arms is sufficient to prevent her from kneeling back and resting her bottom on the sleeper and, of course, to prevent her from rubbing her sex on the wood.

The brunette is naked.

Hannah grins and opens the door. She carries a bridle and harness, and some other training equipment including a whip, a short crop designed for ensuing obedience in a pony showing any recalcitrance in being harnessed and bridled rather than for driving. She also carries a a black leather hood.

Although Hannah lets the stable door bang the sleeping girl doesn't stir.

Hannah smiles more broadly and, after throwing the tack over the partition wall brings the whip down hard on Princess' large breasts.

The brunette's head snaps up accompanied by a cry of pain revealing a bit gag, rubber covered steel, strapped firmly between her teeth. Her large breasts jump wildly, the bells back on her nipples after the Palio, jingling. It takes her a moment to register Hannah's identity and when she does she delivers and angry glare.

Hannah stares straight back at her giving her best dominatrix frown.

After a moment Princess lowers her head.

'You must be pretty desperate.' Hannah ducks under one of the wrist chains and steps behind the kneeling girl.

Pauline doesn't respond.

'I mean, you must have been here all night.' Hannah undoes the buckle of the bit gag and removes if from Pauline's mouth. 'A conditioned thing like you must be hot as a desert nymph. I bet you'd give anything for five minutes with that buxom blonde lover of yours.'

The tension in the kneeling girl's shoulders tells Hannah that she is correct but, even though her gag has been removed, Pauline doesn't speak.

Hannah draws Princess' thick dark hair back, binding it into a simple ponytail then picks up the leather hood she has brought. Princess offers no resistance as the hood is drawn over her head, blindfolding her before being laced together at the back of her neck. The hood has a hole for the slave's mouth. The bridle follows, Princess opening her mouth the take the bit and allowing her head to be moved while Hannah tightens the straps. It is a heavy training bridle and, given that Princess will be exercised on nipple reins is, to some degree, unnecessary, however, ponies, even those run on nipple reins are always bridled.

With the pony hooded and bridled, Hannah releases her knees and pulls up gently on the bridle. Princess stands, obediently her ankles and wrists still chained.

Next, Hannah releases the girl's wrists from the chains holding them apart, pulling them behind her back to strap them together before lacing up a heavy duty leather pony sheath. This is not a tight display sheath and Pauline's elbows are not made to touch, though it is obvious they could be made to if necessary. When Hannah is satisfied with the position of the sheath she crosses the chest straps above the girl's huge breasts and buckles them securely.

The harness is a heavy duty training model. Hannah drapes it across the pony's shoulders, adjusting the height of the moulded leather bodice with its huge half cups designed to provide some support for the slave's massive breasts when she trots. Even with it loosely applied, the giant nipples with their heavy piercing rings jut out and the top of the girl's breasts are entirely exposed.

Having her breasts handled clearly has an effect on the helpless girl, her breathing quickening and a flush coming to her chest.

'These are cute, by the way.' Hannah flicks a nipple bell and watches the corresponding nipple stiffen immediately. 'I was disappointed to see they'd been removed for the race.'

Princess gives a low moan a clear indication that her conditioned body kept denied while chained in the stall is responding to Hannah's touch.

Hannah starts to tighten the bodice then, when she is satisfied, adjusts the shoulder straps. Thigh cuffs hang from the bottom of the bodice like suspenders and Hannah buckles these into place next.

When she has tested Hannah the various straps to ensure they are secure she unlocks Pauline's ankles then, one at a time she guides Pauline's feet into knee high pony boots. These are weighted for training but are fitted with small blades to allow the pony to become familiar with running blades as she trains.

Then she clips a lead rein to one of the pony's nipple rings and leads her charge out of the stable.

The gig is already prepared and Hannah leads the helpless pony out into the stable yard. It is still early and they are the only two around.

It has taken nearly half an hour to lace and strap Pauline into the pony harness, bridle and boots and it takes a similar time to secure her between the shafts. Rings fasten to the bodice and then straps run from the padded shoulder harness that need to be adjusted to create equal tension. When she has achieved this, Hannah then clips the reins to the girl's nipples and runs them back to the gig. The final strap is the clit rein, widely used in southern pony racing as a brake.

Throughout the ordeal Pauline stands patiently, balancing easily on her blades despite the blindfold and tight bondage.

By the time Hannah has finished a few more of the grooms have entered the yard.


CHAPTER 10

CASTLE KLAW, DONIA

Hannah flicks the whip and Princess lifts her knees a little higher making the gig jump slightly as it spins along the track. Fastened securely between the shafts of the gig; harnessed, hooded and helpless; her sleek pony tail flying as she trots, Pauline runs obediently drawing her new groom behind her. As she lifts her strong thighs the gentle curves of her full buttocks become beautifully defined in a manner that even Hannah cannot ignore.

This girl is a born pony.

When Hannah looks up she can see the girl's strong shoulders pulled firmly back by the heavy pony sheath pinning the slave's arms behind her, the muscles straining against the bondage in which they are confined. Pauline's tanned skin glistens with sweat, her young body almost glowing with vitality.

It could have been yours.

Hannah recalls her brief adventures with the then Lady Pauline, princess of Belladonia and her alter ego, the rather inappropriately named 'Cat Girl'. She remembers too that following her arrest, she was given into the Princess' custody and spent a month as the busty brunette's personal sex slave.

Time for a little payback.

The ground begins to slope up and Hannah notices the slight reduction in pace accompanied by a change in the jingling of Pauline's nipple bells. She flicks the whip again, a little higher this time and the pony steps into a canter, increasing her speed, attacking the hill.

I'm not sure she can get much fitter.

Hannah lets Pauline canter up the first part of the slope and then whips her into a gallop, holding tightly to the gig as the ponygirl accelerates despite the climb; she feels the thrill of speed, the wind cool on her face and then the lake comes into view over the bluff, shining in the afternoon sun, a cool headwind adding to the feeling of exhilaration. Though she is hooded, the pony can, no doubt, sense their location and seems to increase her speed almost as if she was not pulling the gig at all.

They reach the top and Hannah pulls on the clit rein drawing the pony to a halt. Pauline stops, her magnificent chest heaving with the exertion as she gasps for breath around the bit, her nostrils flaring. Hannah dismounts and comes forward.

'Good girl.' Hannah pats Pauline on the bottom and the pony leans a little closer to her. The princess' body is flushed and radiates health, her muscles firm, her breasts full, rising and falling as she controls her breathing.

There is a water trough at the top of the bluff and Hannah starts to release Pauline from the gig so she can drink. When the girl is free of the traces she leads her by the bridle to towards the water before pulling down to indicate the girl should kneel, then she removes the bit. Pauline kneels obediently no doubt realising what is in front of her. Nevertheless she waits for permission to bend and drink.

It is considered good training to make a slave wait and Hannah returns to the to gig to fetch the pony's hobbles.

'May I speak,Mistress ?'

'Wow, a talking pony !' Hannah's tone is sarcastic. 'I assume you want to be punished.'

'Forgive me, Mistress, but it's the first time I've been able to talk to you since you arrived here. I've been...a little tied up.'

'Go on then.' Hannah rolls her eyes.

'It's just...I've been wondering. Did you come here to rescue me ?'

Hannah stills, her throat suddenly dry. 'Why would you need rescuing ?'

'I'm a slave.'

'You could, run away.' Hannah forces a laugh.

'I'm kept naked in a cage in constant bondage.'

'Not all the time.' Hannah snaps the cuffs around the pony's ankles.

'Of course.' Pauline's voice is heavy with irony. 'A hooded pony with her arms sheathed might just make a run for the castle wall and leap over.'

'I thought you were submissive.' Hannah grins.

'I am.' Pauline pauses. 'Which reminds me, may I drink, Mistress ?'

'Yes, go on.'

'Thank you, Mistress.' Pauline bends forwards, gently poking out her tongue until it touches the cool still water. The movement, Hannah thinks, is utterly beautiful, totally submissive. She watches as the girl laps at the cool water.

Could I ever be that submissive ?

'Have you thought about escaping ?'

'As if I'd tell you and risk getting myself punished.' Pauline continues with her ironic tone. 'I obviously thought about trying to sneak out, oh, but wait, my nipples are pierced with bells...'

'You could make a run for it next time you're sent to the market.'

'I'm never sent to market. I'm not permitted to leave the grounds of the chateau.'

'Well, there goes my plan to lead you out of the front gate with some story about taking you to the market to buy fruit.'

'So, you did come to rescue me ?' There is a small note of triumph in Pauline's voice.

'What makes you think that ?'

'Well,...I can't really see any other reason for you to come here otherwise. Unless you did have a thing about Lash.' Pauline kneels up, her back straight and her head bowed. You two make a great couple by the way. All that pert tension and anxst.'

'It was nothing to do with Lash !' Hannah is surprised to feel her cheeks blushing. 'I'm here because Harmony is not the greatest place for heroines these days thanks to your mother. Why don't you remind me what happened last time I was with you in Harmony.'

'Fetish tazered you.'

'I was thinking of the time before.'

'The police tazered you.' Pauline continued to kneel demurely despite her teasing.

'I can punish you for being cute.' Hannah is not really angry. 'In fact a might punish you for all those things you did to me while I was sentenced to your care.'

'I stopped you going to prison.'

'If you hadn't got your ass kicked, I wouldn't have got caught.' Hannah realises that she could just bridle the kneeling slave or even command her to silence.

'You're submissive, we both know that. I've seen Lash trailing you on a leash. She'll have you in the pits on a conditioning rack before you know it.' There is humour in Pauline's voice. 'I can thoroughly recommend it by the way.'

'I'm fine.'

'Of course you are, Mistress.' Pauline is smiling though the opening in her hood. 'So, as we're both fine, if you had come to rescue me, I just wanted to say, don't bother, I don't really want to be rescued.'

'Fine, well, that's settled then. I won't be rescuing you.' Hannah resists the urge to cross her hands defensively over her tiny breasts even though the hooded Princess would not be able to see her.


LASH'S QUARTERS

Hannah looks up instinctively when she hears the door of Lash's quarters open. She is kneeling naked and tightly bound in the orange silk bonds; her thighs bound to her ankles keeping her kneeling, arms bound behind her back as the wrists and elbows, another sash around her shoulders pulling them back; she is gagged too with the ring and blindfolded. She has not expected Lash back for many more hours and when she hears the sound of booted feet becomes alarmed.

'Gaia, I can't believe you two live like this.' It is Jezebel. 'Don't you desire some sort of comfort ?. I mean, I know you're young and in love but this is ridiculous, there's not even anywhere comfortable to sit down.'

Hannah hears the scrape of Lash's desk chair in the stone floor.

'Oh well, I suppose I won't be here for long. Lets not waste time with pleasantries. If I'm being honest, BG, I'm a little disappointed. You came quite highly recommended and here you are all helpless and submissive and desperately in love with someone completely inappropriate. Don't get me wrong, I'm not being racist or anything, I admire Lash; in other circumstances I'd wish you every happiness. However, you were sent here for a reason and your happiness takes a rather inadequate second place to something far more important.'

Hannah protests through her gag.

'Yes, that's right, I know why you are here, I know who sent you and I know that so far you've not made much progress in rescuing our kidnapped princess.'

Hannah struggles in her bonds.

'Yes, hard to do that heroine stuff when you can't move isn't it ? But it saves me being interrupted. As I said there are far more important things going on than your little submissive fling with whip girl. Even as we speak Contesse de Renee is pulling together an army to come and collect her daughter. That means, of course, that Lady Simone will have to pull one together to fight back. And then what would we have ? Civil war, sister fighting sister, death and destruction, the whole she-bang. Now, Lady Simone, she'd be very happy about this. Do you know how big the countryside is ? Of course you do, you walked here from Harmony. And the countryside means thousands of loyal supporters ready to flock to La Donna's colours, the countryside hates the city with a passion even you and Lash would find hard to match. Well, you say, or you would if you weren't kneeling there all submissive and gagged, 'so what' you say, 'i'll be happy' I'll be happy you say, but you won't. You don't know much about Lash's people, well them and the Pre'stkwe'ins, do you, apart from the fact that the've devoted the last thousand years to improving each other's sex lives. Well, they're a bit in awe of us, our technology, particularly. And, to be fair, they'd probably quite like to get their hands on it. Well, when I say 'probably', I mean 'definitely'. Of course Lady Simone hasn't been helping, telling them about our mag engines and impulse drives and taser technology and even, I'm sorry to say, selling some if it to them. Anyway, that point I'm making is that if the north and the south go to war, the Pre'stkwe'ins will come in and mop up the pieces. And believe me you really don't want that to happen.'

Jezebel stands.

'So, while you're kneeling there doing your submissive thing and contemplating your naval or whatever it is you bottoms do when you've trussed up like spring chickens, think about your role in the great scheme of things and, if you can't do that, think what will happen to Lash if the Pre'stkwe'ins come and take over. Of course, I could do it all myself and get the glory but, like it said, big picture, small cogs and, well, I'm just a bit bigger than you; actually, I'm a lot bigger than you but nobody on this planet...by which I mean this continent, obviously, knows that so you'll have to keep that to yourself or I will probably have to kill you...when you've done the thing I'm telling you to do, of course. Gaia Bellanian is such crap language for expressing metaphysical concepts... But I digress and you don't speak French. Anyway, to summerise, when you've done all that contemplating, rescue the princess and we can all live happily ever after. Well, except you and Lash, I suppose, but then it's all omelettes and eggs and someone has to make a sacrifice and, like I said, you will be doing it for Lash really in the long run and...well, the rest of the people on this planet.'

Jezebel leans in close to Hannah. 'I know you're on the right side, Boot Girl, don't let me down. Your clothes and boots - your proper boots, that is, are in your quarters.'

Hannah hears the door of Lash's quarters close.


JEZEBEL'S QUARTERS

Tamzin holds Jezebel in the warm afterglow of sex.

'We must do this again some time.' Jezebel whispers gently.

'Already, Mistress ?' Tamzin's body is suffused with pleasure they have been making love for several hours, exploring each other's bodies intimately, a strangely novel experience for the slave who is always in bondage when they lie together.

'I meant in a year or two.' Jezebel tells her.

'I am not sure I canst wait a year for more of thy sex mistress.'

'I meant that in a year or two I might let you serve me with your hands free again.'

Tamzin smiles and snuggles closer her hand sliding down Jezebel's back relishing the touch of her lover's skin with all its roughness. 'Art thou sure thou won't have found another by then, Mistress, cast me aside for a different model ? I know how you like maidens with fighting spirit.'

'Your training is progressing.'

'I try but I will never be a match for thee.' Tamzin has been pushing herself physically; she is a woman who likes to be the best at what she does. Her weakness in martial arts is a source of frustration to her.

'I'm sure you could beat Fetish now.'

'Anyone can beat Fetish !' Tamzin lapses into Bellanian and pushes her Mistress away but then relents. 'Which remindeth me...'

'I'm not having you fully conditioned !' Jezebel says sternly.

'But Mistress...' Tamzin thinks of the pleasure slaves that are kept below the palace wondering how it might feel to be kept in such a sexually charged state. She has always had submissive desires and would willingly submit to conditioning for her beloved mistress.

'Your mind is way to valuable to allow Fetish to turn it into a slave gel addicted mess.' Jezebel pulls her close and kisses her, her hands running over Tamzin's skin in a way that instantly brings heat to her loins.

'But thou desirest my body too.' Tamzin says flirtatiously as she presses herself against her mistress.

'It is not without it's merits.' Jezebel cups her slave's buttocks.

They lie together in silence for a few moments.

'Will you still love me when I'm old and grey, Mistress ?' Tamzin asks suddenly; again lapsing into Bellanian.

Jezebel kisses her gently. 'I like to think we will grow old together.'

'I wouldst too, Mistress but I do not think it very likely.'

She feels Jezebel stiffen slightly in her arms.

'If you're going to insist on deep conversations after sex, I might have to keep a gag by the bed.'

'You do any way.' Tamzin says with a laugh. 'But if you love me for my mind you must expect me to...talk like this.'

'I think I'm going to gag you.'

'Mistress...' Tamzin kisses her lover. 'We both know why you came to my apartment and why you brought me here.'

'Those two things are very different.' Jezebel rolls onto her back. 'I came to your apartment because I was a real fan of your work. I brought you here because, as well as being a brilliant scientist, you are a hot little minx who needed taking in hand before your submissive desires got you into real trouble.'

'And your devoted slave is very grateful to her Mistress for it.'

'There's a 'but' coming isn't there ?'

Tamzin can see Jezebel looking up at the ceiling in the dim light.

'I know what you want, Mistress.' Tamzin strokes her mistress' cheek. 'I want it too.' She kisses her lover gently. 'Please, Mistress.'

Jezebel lies silently for several minutes.

'Alright.' Jezebel says finally. 'I'll arrange for you to have access to the lab.'

'Thank you, Mistress.'

They lie together for several more minutes, Tamzin watching as Jezebel's breathing eases into a regular pattern; realising suddenly the deep trust her mistress places on her by this and wondering how many others over the centuries have laid beside her like this. With her mistress on the verge of sleep Tamzin cannot resist stroking the brand on Jezebel's thigh.

'Mistress ?'

'Slave ?' Jezebel is sleepy. 'Are you going to ask me gag you ?'

'Will you brand me, Mistress ?'

Jezebel smiles. 'Yes, darling, but not tonight.'

Tamzin sighs happily and closes her eyes, her fingers still resting on the brand on Jezebel's hip in the shape of an ice bear.


ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

Contesse de Renee lies in the darkness of her chamber, sleep eluding her despite her exhaustion. In the centre of the room she can see Adele kneeling, wrists chained behind her back and ankles cuffed. She has kept the woman naked and in chains since the intense punishment she inflicted upon her almost a week ago. Adele's breasts remain confined in their torcs and the contesse has added a steel collar.

She has punished the blonde mercilessly for the last week, whipping her, applying clamps to her nipples and sex, even used a tazer on her until the helpless blonde begged for mercy. At night she has kept the woman chained, not allowing her into the bed they have shared for so many years. There have been times over the years, of course, when she has chained Adele at the foot of the bed, even left her in the punishment room overnight but these have been short term incidents, a night, perhaps two alone and, usually, interspersed with intense bouts of sex.

This week has been different.

The contesse has been punishing Adele severely since Pauline's disappearance and, though after the first prolonged bout they made love intensely this has not been the case since. After she found her lover helpless and squirming in bondage following Boot Girl's escape Lady de Renee forbade her pledged slave orgasm and, as far as she knows, Adele has not climaxed in all those months though she has diligently served her mistress when commanded. However, despite the intense exchanges when Adele ahd been punished, the couple have not shared and sexual intimacy for the last week.

'Come here.' Lady de Renee calls out to her kneeling slave who lifts her head obediently and begins to crawl to her mistress. The contesse can hear the woman's chains clicking and, as she approaches, see the weights swinging from her clamped nipples.

Adele stops beside her mistress's bed and the contesse reaches out a hand to stroke the helpless woman's blonde hair.

'Poor Adele.' Lady de Renee props herself up on the pillow and reaches round to release the kneeling blonde's gag. She sees the woman's eyes flick up, taking in her naked form, her large, heavy breasts. She tosses the gag to one side and leans forward guiding Adele's mouth to her left breast. The blonde suckles it eagerly and Lady de Renee runs her fingers through the woman's hair enjoying the willing tongue as it rasps across her nipple.

'Good girl.' The contesse' voice is low, sultry.

Adele suckles the breast obediently and expertly, teasing her mistress in a way that always delights the contesse and Lady de Renee feels her arousal build quickly. It is rare for her to go a day without orgasm let alone a week. She reaches down to play with Adele's breast cupping it gently. The flesh is cool and she can imagine the bluish colour of the skin caused by the torc constricting its base. She seeks out the nipple with its heavy clamp and gently removes it feeling Adele stiffen as her tortured nipple is released. Lady de Renee toys with the newly freed nipple feeling it swell at her touch then she reaches behind Adele's head and, taking a fistful of hair pulls her slave up into the bed beside her. She is aware of the coolness of the woman's skin against her own and shudders as her fingertips brush the cold steel of the woman's bonds.

'Poor Adele.' She kisses the cool lips gently and feels her lover respond. She can feel the wetness of Adele's chin where the blonde has drooled around her gag and traces it down across the steel collar locked around the woman's neck to her large breasts. The slave's right nipple is still crushed by a clamp and the contesse removes it.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Adele's voice is a hoarse, strained whisper.

'Hush.' Lady de Renee draws the helpless woman closer to warm her enjoying the coolness of her body and the pressure of her breasts. She traces a hand down the woman's back playing gently with the chain linking her cuffed wrists then she guides Adele's mouth back to her nipples.

The slave is adept at pleasing her mistress and, despite her mistreatment works diligently to lick and kiss and then gently nibble her lover's breasts quickly producing the expected effects on the contesse' sex starved body. Breathing hard Lady de Renee pushes her slave's head further down her body and parts her thighs until she feels the woman's breath, warm on her sex.

'Make a good job of it and I might let you come.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Adele's voice is a controlled whisper though the contesse can sense her lover's need as keenly as her own.

Adele kisses her mistress' sex softly and then gently probes it with her tongue, teasing the labia apart before licking them. Lady de Renee gives a soft gasp, shuddering and then she lies still waiting for the pleasure that is to come.

Adele is an expert at pleasing her mistress and, given free rein, uses her tongue, teeth and lips to pleasure her mistress, kissing and lapping at the brunette's increasingly hot sex in a way that sends increasingly urgent ripples of pleasure out into the dominant's body. Lady de Renee's pleasure builds until she can hold back no longer and with lust surging through her body, the contesse is about to command her slave to make her come when Adele, clearly aware of her mistress' needs thrusts her tongue deep into her lover's sex in a way that turns the ripples into waves which engulf her.

Contesse de Renee comes, the pleasure of orgasm surging through her body. She thinks she may have called out Adele's name and is a little anxious that, not for the first time during climax, she may have wet herself.

In the satisfaction of her climax Contesse de Renee feels Adele lift her head from where it rests on her thigh.

'I don't recall giving you permission to make me cum.' The contesse' words are stern but her voice is playful.

'Sorry, Mistress.' Adele replaces her head on her mistress' inner thigh. The woman's warm breath is having a delightful effect on the contesse sensitised sex and the brunette knows she needs to climax again soon. She lies sill for several minute and then Adele, clearly aware of her mistress' needs gently runs her tongue over the hot wet sex in front of her.

Lady de Renee gasps, writhing with pleasure.

'Too soon, Mistress ?'

'No Adele. Perfect timing.'

As always.

Lady de Renee lies still and Adele teases her, feeling her lust build quickly. She is soon panting again and squirms with delight as Adele's tongue circles her clitoris.

'Oh good girl.' Lady de Renee rolls up onto her knees pushing the slave onto her back and straddling Adele's face; the slave's body is stretched out before her, firm and strong, she can see the large breasts, dimpled at their bases by the steel torcs that glint in the darkness. Adele lies with her knees apart, her ankles shackles together. The contesse arches back lifting her hips as Adele flicks her mistress' clitoris.

'Good girl.' The contesse' hair is loose and she sweeps it away from her face as Adele nibbles at her labia.

'Oh Gaia ! That feels good.' She is breathing hard.

Adele flicks her tongue out touching the vary back of her mistress' sex and Lady de Renee slides backwards and leans forward to allow her slave access to her clit. Once again she can see Adele's body, helpless and chained. The woman is clearly aroused, Lady de Renee can smell it, thinks she can see moisture on the soft pink petals between the blonde's legs. She reaches down and cups the huge breasts, massaging them, a familiar, comforting gesture; Adele tenses and the contesse releases them, stiffening.

'I'm sorry, Mistress, they're really sore.' Adele's voice is muffled and she pauses only momentarily in her cunelingas.

Lady de Renee relaxes again, feels a surge of pleasure as Adele runs her tongue along her labia that are spread across her mouth. The contesse looks down once again at the helpless willing body displayed and utterly available to her. She reaches down gently and strokes the helpless woman's breasts, running her finger up to the large bruised nipples. She feels Adele respond, a kind of shudder in her body.

'I hope you haven't just come.' The brunette's voice is playful.

'No, Mistress.' The need in Adele's voice is obvious even with the gentle stimulation she has received from her mistress.

'Good.' Lady de Renee sweeps her hair back and leans forward. She pauses for a moment to breathe out gently the hot pink sex in front of her face. The clamp still bites the woman's tortured clitoris and Lady de Renee gently releases it feeling only the briefest of response from her helpless slave. Then, the contesse pushes her tongue through the velvety labia enjoying the sensation of Adele squirming beneath her even as she is distracted from her pleasuring.

Close to orgasm herself despite her recent climax, the contesse works to control her arousal, trying to stave off her impending climax however, the squirming body beneath her and the hot teasing tongue on her sex make it almost impossible.

'Please, Mistress.' Adele's voice conveys her need and the contesse feels her slave still beneath her.

'Please, Mistress. Stop it.' Adele is desperate and the contesse smiles wickedly. 'I can't help it, Mistress. If you don't stop now I'll come.'

'I didn't say you could stop, Slave.' Lady de Renee lifts her head for a moment; she is struggling with her own arousal, the pleasure of Adele's submission almost enough to make her climax herself.

'Yes, Mistress.'

The contesse feels her slave lift her head and the brush of the blonde's lips against her sex. She lifts a hand to sweep her long dark hair away from her face and then bends her lips to her slave's drooling sex.

Deprived as she has been, it is not surprising that Adele comes first though her mistress is only moments behind. They writhe together swept on a tide of ecstasy, the spasms of each woman creating ripples of pleasure for the other and then, gasping, they lie side by side, Adele still chained and helpless secure in her mistress' arms.

'Thank you, Mistress.' Adele's voice in husky with lust.

'I wouldn't be too grateful.' Contesse de Renee toys idly with her slave's nipple causing the blonde to squirm. 'You've just come without permission.'

'I'm sorry, Mistress.' Adele sounds immediately remorseful.

'Oh, I don't know.' Lady de Renee smiles in the darkness. 'It means I can punish you all over again.'


CASTLE KLAW, DONIA

Pauline de Renee's lush body is cocooned in a sheath of tight black rubber that stretches across its curves brazenly displaying the pleasure slave she has become. A black rubber hood, far thicker than the taut black rubber that simply adds a glossy duskiness to the smooth skin of her body, gags and blindfolds her in a way that is now utterly familiar and, in many ways comforting. Locked in the hood she cannot see the eyes that watch leeringly as she walks past, her submission blatantly displayed like her body.

She is lead on a nipple leash, the heavy rings in her nipples piercing the suit through eyelets designed for the purpose as they pierce her hugely swollen nipples. The hormones used to enhance her breasts have left her nipples at least three times their original size and exquisitely sensitive so that, combined with her conditioning and the slave gel coating the pump gag filling her mouth and plug in her anus she is kept balanced on the point of orgasm, so that any slight stimulus is enough to push her to yet another climax.

She has allowed herself six small orgasms so far, knowing that the small ripples of pleasure stem off the all consuming tidal wave of pleasure that constantly threatens to engulf her conditioned body when she is treated like this. The fact that she has not been punished for this, except a sharp blow from a crop across her rubber clad bottom for the third one which immediately triggered a fourth and threatened to wash her into a tumult of pleasure, is perhaps a sign of her trainers' understanding of the responses of the conditioned slave.

She walks in slave boots, of course, perched on her toes, her steps hobbled by a chain that can be no more than a few links long, making her steps tiny. Unusually, her arms are not sheathed behind her but rather her mitted hands are locked in front of her to her clit piercing which, like her nipple rings passes through eyelets in the rubber suit; her elbows are chained tightly behind her back thus ensuring her buttocks are exposed to the whip. It is, of course, the reason for her fourth climax, any sudden stimulus causing her hands to jerk slightly and pull on her pierced clit. She hopes that she might be kept like this more often though suspects it will only be under the watchful eye of her trainers, testing her resolve.

It is a short walk from the dressing room where three slaves, under Fetish's guidance prepared her, bathing, shaving and dressing her as the fantasy plaything she has become. Being treated like this has become normality for her now and at the touch of the whip to the back of her knee she drops obediently to her knees, spreading her legs and bowing her head submissively. She is aware of her helplessness, of the clinging rubber that enfolds her, of her bondage and of her breathing, loud to her, rasping though the tiny eyelets in the hood beneath her nostrils.

The pump gag in her mouth is deflated and removed through the ring of the hood; though this still leaves her effectively gagged and she can predict what might come next. Hands cup her breasts, teasing the nipples and she climaxes almost immediately though tries to keep the illicit pleasure to herself. The little shudder her sexually conditioned body gives is enough to betray her.

'Bad girl !' A voice in Donnan.

Pauline bows her head making a small noise though her gag. An apology.

The hands continue to tease her breasts, strong fingers squeezing the heavy, sensitive rubber skinned flesh.

She comes again.

'I am clearly going to have to punish you.'

Fingers slip into the rings through her nipples. The piercings have been enlarged so the heavy rings in them are almost the thickness of her little finger.

She feels her nipples being stretched.

You can't really expect me not to come.

Pauline shudders to another climax, stronger than before making no effort to hide it.

A crop lands heavily on her breasts stretched by the nipple rings and she almost comes again. She does with the second blow.

At least a dozen more follow while the unseen hands cup and kneed her breasts, pinching and stretching her nipples. Pauline orgasms repeatedly, almost continuously, her body responding to almost every blow from the crop until she is panting through the ring of her gag and shuddering in her bondage.

The hands leave her breasts.

'Come to me, Slave.'

The voice is ahead of her and she starts to crawl forward.

'On your belly.'

Pauline throws herself forwards landing on her breasts, hands jerking against the chain to her clit ring.

Oh Gaia !

She starts to squirm forwards, turning onto her side using her legs, hobbled at the ankle to push her along.

'I said 'On your belly', Slave.'

The crop falls on Pauline's buttocks and she rolls back onto her belly trying to wriggle forwards. Her weight is on her breasts and she can feel the pile of the carpet beneath her against her nipples. With her ankles cuffed she can't push with her legs.

You just want me to come again so you can punish me.

With a huge effort Pauline pulls her knees beneath her and then throws herself forward landing heavily on her breasts, her hands tugging again on her clit ring. The crop falls again on her bottom and she climaxes hard turning her head to the side to gasp in air.

'Lazy slave !'

The crop is still striking her buttocks repeatedly, sharp stinging blows.

That's not helping you know.

Despite the rain of lashes to her bottom she pulls her knees under herself again and, once again, throws herself forwards.

She repeats the process three times, each fall partially winding her, each driving her to climax and each earning her more abuse.

Finally, she lies on her belly gasping.

'Enough.'

Gaia, be praised.

'Worship me, Slut.'

Yes, Mistress.

Pauline pushes out her tongue blindly seeking her tormentor's boot or foot. She finds a bare foot and presses her rubber covered lips against the warm flesh then gently runs her tongue across it. After a few moments a toe is pushed into her mouth through the ring of her gag and she caresses it with her tongue.

As she continues to worship her mistress she is aware of the crop tracing patterns over her buttocks and occasionally flicking against her rubber clad skin.

Finally the foot is withdrawn and she thinks her mistress, whoever she may be, stands.

'On your back, Slave.'

She is kicked in the side and struggles to roll over; with her elbows cuffed behind her she is forced to come up partially on her knees enduring a flurry of strikes from the crop and is then helped on to her back with another kick.

She lies with her back arched over her chained elbows and attempts to spread her knees as a supine slave should although the boots and the hobble chain prevent her from displaying herself properly. It is however, enough for the wielder of the crop to deliver a sharp blow to her pussy where the suit gapes to allow free access to her sex. With her elbows chained and her hands cuffed in front of her, fingers chained to her clitoris by the tips of the mitts she can do little to protect her sex other than close her legs but her training makes her lie still as the whip falls again.

She takes several more blows to the pussy leaving her aroused and earning her a 'good girl' and then there is a weight on her belly as one of the two, presumably her 'Mistress', the one who's feet she has just worshipped sits astride her. Hands once again hold her breasts and then fingers slip through her piercing rings, lifting and stretching the nipples.

Despite the exquisite sexual torture she hasn't come for nearly twenty minutes and the pussy whipping has left her panting. She moans as her breasts are stretched and teased.

Something presses against the sides of her hood and she is aware of the scent of female arousal. She knows what to do and, pushing out her tongue tastes the warm salty wetness of a woman's sex.

I don't think I've had the pleasure before, Mistress.

Pauline knows what is expected of her and laps at the soft flesh above her mouth, running the tip of her tongue over the slick labia and then finding the woman's clitoris. As she works, the unseen hands, not those of the woman she is pleasuring, continue to kneed her own breasts. Despite the distraction of having her breasts teased she can feel the woman above her respond, noting subtle movements in her body, the shifting of her weight, the pressure of her thighs against Pauline's head. As the woman becomes more aroused she pushes her sex down until she is almost smothering the helpless hooded captive.

I might be the one in bondage here, but you're all mine, Mistress !

Then, close to orgasm, the woman presses her sex against Pauline's face, completely sealing off the ring of her gag and nostril holes.

Ok ! You're the boss.

Panic flares inside the helpless girl but she forces herself not to struggle, the woman is clearly about to come.

I can do this.

Pauline thrusts her tongue firmly inside the woman's sex seeking her G-spot, feels her squirm; she senses the woman holding herself back imagining the expression of pleasure on the unseen face, the shake of her long dark hair, pupils dilating.

I really need you to come now, Mistress.

Pauline's lungs are bursting and her head in pounding.

Please.

Thighs clamp either side of Pauline's head and the woman pushes down hard as she comes. Pauline thrusts her tongue hard through the ring of the gag and feels the woman above her buck in response. She takes a gasp of air, hot and filled with the scent of the woman who has just used her.

She senses the woman rise, kneeling up, imagines a hand sweeping back touseled hair, stray locks clinging to a face flushed and damp with sweat.

'Why don't you make her come, Anastasia ?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Hands grasp Pauline's hooded head and although she cannot see it, she now knows the face that looks down on her, the large dark eyes and narrow chin on southern aristocracy, the haughty expression, the pouting lips.

'Be a good girl and come for your mistress, Slave.'

Pauline feels her legs pushed apart and a tongue press against her drooling sex. She jerks at her clit ring and obeys her mistress.


LASH'S QUARTERS

Lash returns later than Boot Girl expects. Jezebel's words have been gnawing at her conscience throughout the long afternoon in helpless bondage and she hopes the tears she has shed are not apparent on the blindfold or that Lash will not notice the signs when she removes it. Her brooding has left her in such a state of anxiety that she physically jumps when she hears the door open. Lifting her head expectantly she hears the sound of her lover's bare feet on the stone floor lift and, despite her anxiety, her spirits soar though do not completely clear the dull ache of dread she feels in her belly. The footsteps patter to her side and she smells Lash's scent as the woman crouches before her.

'I'm sorry I'm late.' Lash's voice carries a tone of remorse that surprises Boot Girl and nearly makes her cry then the blonde's lips brush Hannah's gently and she touches the side of her lover's head with her hand. Hannah's response is more forceful as blind and helpless the kneeling girl thrusts herself forward pushing her tongue through the ring that holds her mouth open.

'Whoa. Calm down.' Lash gasps and grasps her lover's head firmly kissing her deeply, tongue caressing tongue through the metal ring of the gag. 'Did you think I'd forgotten you.'

Boot Girl shakes her head trying not to cry again.

'Let me take the gag out.' Lash reaches unties the silk cloth that holds the ring in place and guides it out of Hannah's mouth. Then she kisses her again, stroking her cheek.

'You must be thirsty.'

Despite the gag being removed Hannah does not trust herself to speak so she simply nods. She hears Lash fill her water bowl and place it in front of her.

'You may drink.'

Hannah bends forward, guided by Lash's hand on the back of her head and then, when she feels the cool water on her lips, laps at it eagerly realising how thirsty she is.

When she has drained the bowl she kneels up again. 'Thank you, Mistress.'

Lash slips a bowl between her legs and lets her pee then, when she has emptied it comes back to kneel before her.

'I've got a surprise for you.'

The excitement and expectation in Lash's voice is enough to make Hannah's smile genuine though her lover's noticeable efforts at kindness make the gnawing darkness in her belly almost physically painful.

'Thank you, Mistress.'

There is a few moments pause and the rustling of paper then Lash tells Hannah to open her mouth. The submissive obeys and feels Lash place something on her tongue. A moment later she tastes sweetness and feels fluid fill her mouth.

'Eat it.'

Hannah chews and tastes some sort of fruit, bitter beneath the syrup but then stuffed with a slightly textured sweet paste.

'Delicious, Mistress.' Hannah swallows.

'I knew you'd like it. There's more for you to try.'

At any other time Hannah would have been filled with joy at the sensitivity Lash is showing but the ache in her gut makes her wonder if she can eat any more. Nevertheless she forces another mouthful down and, when Lash puts a cup of wine to her lips she drinks eagerly.

'Hey, slow down. I don't want you too drunk.'

The wine warms her belly and eases the knot of pain.

As their intimate meal continues the wine helps to lift Hannah's spirits and, when Lash drops juice onto her chin she giggles, squirming as Lash licks it off and then kisses her warmly.

'I think I might be about to spill some more.'

Hannah feels something brush her left cheek and then something warm land on her chest, and begin running down onto her nipple.

'Ooops.' Lash's mouth moves to Hannah's nipple and her tongue licks up the sauce she has spilt there.

Perhaps I can work something out.

Hannah giggles again and Lash's mouth moves to her right nipple.

'I don't think you spilt any there.'

'I didn't give you permission to speak.'

'Sorry, Mistress. Perhaps you'd better punish me.'

'Later, Slave.' There is a playfulness in Lash's voice that is not usually present.

Lash takes Hannah in her arms and kisses her, pulling her close. The last of Hannah's anxiety fades and she yields submissively.

'You'd better take your new clothes off before you get food all over them.'

'I have a slave to clean them.'

'Alright, you'd better take your new clothes off so I can run my tongue all over your body and kiss every inch of your skin.'

She hears Lash undo one of her zips.


TWO DAYS LATER

Hannah is following Lash across the Chateau's courtyard. She is dressed in the pink silk kri, one around her breasts and the other as a tiny skirt around her loins. Lash seems to like her lover displayed like this, dark nipples clearly visible through the gauzy material and now her top is slightly filled by her developing breasts. The skirt too provides little modesty and when she bends her buttocks and her pink sex are clearly displayed. Her wrists are bound behind her.

A Gaian priestess' chariot has just entered the chateau drawn in by a harnessed acolyte.

'What the fuck's she doing here ?' Hannah watches as the shaven-headed girl is drawn to a halt by the robed and hooded priestess. The girl is breathing hard after the long climb to the chateau.

'I believe she must be here for the slaving ceremony tomorrow.'

'And to sponge of La Donna for as long as she can.'

'You should show respect for your clerics.' Lash appears surprised at her Hannah's words.

'You wouldn't say that if you know what they were like; skulking, fucking thieves is what they are.' Hannah watches as the priestess dismounts; the woman is clearly unhappy with some aspect of the suplicanti's performance and she proceeds to whip the girl hard across the breasts and belly. 'Fucking sadists too.'

'If a pre'stkwe'in spoke thus about a priestess she would be put to death.'

'Perhaps your priestesses aren't such arseholes.' Hannah turns to go.

'Perhaps it is because our religion does not revere the torment of it's deity.' Lash stands still continuing to watch the priestess berate her acolyte.

'No Lash. You've got it wrong. Gaia is the Earth Maiden. The destruction of the world by Mankind was her torment. We...' Hannah pauses. 'Gaian worshippers believe that harming the earth is wrong.'

'And yet your priestesses develop themselves and others through suffering and pain.'

'Yeah, I guess if you look at it like that you're right.' Hannah watches as the acolyte drops to her knees, still in harness to grovel at her Domina's feet. 'Come on Lash, I need a drink.'


THE GREAT HALL, CHATEAU KLAW

Pauline crawls towards her Mistress. The great hall of Chateau Klaw is as crowded as it was on the night of the ball. All are here for one purpose, to see Lady Simone's new slave. It is no secret that the luscious brunette is the daughter of Contesse de Renee taken from her home and trained as a slave, her mind conditioned and her body sculpted into the ultimate sex toy. There is also no secret to the challenge the southern vassal queen is sending to her northern mistress.

Pauline is naked aside from a high posture collar and a Y-shaped strap that holds a large dildo inside her; the dildo is ribbed and flared at the base so that it constantly stimulates her labia and clitoris and she moves; she is gagged too, a huge wooden ball coated with leather fills her mouth and makes it impossible for her not to drool constantly so that she crawls through a trail of her own saliva. She crawls as a slave is meant to crawl, displaying her perfect body, curving her back and lifting her bottom ensuring that with each movement her enormous breasts sway beneath her. The room has fallen into an expectant silence at her entry so that the jingling of the bells hanging from her nipple rings can be clearly heard.

Pauline has spent the nearly two days in stringent bondage, gagged and hooded, arms and legs spread wide. She has endured no punishments to allow her body to heal and been given no pleasure so that her conditioned body craves orgasm with desire that is almost utterly overwhelming; it is only the conditioning to obedience through her training as a slave that stops her from rolling onto her back and masturbating despite the huge crowd watching her. The dildo and gag have been inserted moments before her entry to the hall and, as she crawls she quickly realises that they are both impregnated with slave gel. By the time she is half way to her mistress' throne she thinks she will not reach La Donna's throne without submitting to the intense climax that is building inside her.

Her mistress, her true mistress, La Donna, the Lady Simone, Queen of Donia is enthroned on the dais ahead resplendent in the fighting harness of a southern warrior woman. Fetish and the Gaian priestess stand beside her and the queen's favourite slave, Anastasia kneels at her mistress' feet; beside them is a glowing brazier. Pauline knows what this is for and shudders momentarily.

Biting down on her gag, nostril's flaring she continues her humiliating crawl. She knows why she is being forced to endure this, knows that she is the slave of her mother's enemy being displayed as a helpless sex toy but finds herself strangely detached from the emotions she might once have expected to feel. Her training and her conditioning have turned her from sub-curious and promiscuous young woman into intensely fulfilled and fully trained sex slave; her only fear being to embarrass her mistress by coming without permission; she does not even fear the punishment she will no doubt receive.

The hall looks very long and with each movement the dildo drives her nearer the orgasm her body desires.

Finally she reaches Lady Simone's throne and stops, her body literally quivering with desire. The queen extends a booted toe and Pauline bends to kiss the shiny black leather. An intense feeling of pleasure washes over her and she feels her body tremble with a spasm of clandestine pleasure. When Lady Simone withdraws her boot Pauline crawls to her mistress' side then sits back on her haunches relieved she has contained her body's intense need to orgasm. She is aware that her face and chest are flushed with arousal and her enhanced, pierced nipples grossly swollen with lust; she is aware too of the scent of her arousal that she breathes in through flared nostrils above the punishing gag; she is also aware of how desirable she looks; her body oiled and glistening, face exquisitely painted, hair straightened and oiled to a sheen; an exquisite, wanton and utterly submissive sex toy kneeling helplessly beside her dominant mistress. If she wanted to bow her head the posture collar would not permit it; she knows this is to show her face clearly to the assembled crowd. Her cheeks burn with a mixture of lust and a little self indulgent shame at the slut she has become.

Fetish steps forward and cuffs Pauline's wrists behind her back, applying a second pair to her elbows to pin them together and then Lady Simone rises from her throne and, despite Pauline's fear of what is about to happen to her she cannot help being aroused by the strength and athletic beauty of this warrior queen.

'Donnae y Demoiselles, benventa u Chateau Klaua.' Lady Simone's use of Donian is calculated and, from the nods and murmurs of approval among her audience, effective. 'My Ladies, Mothers and Maidens, welcome to Chateau Klaw. It is a long time since we have held a Slaving Ceremony' and I thought it was time to revitalise that old tradition.' She pauses to smile and glance down at the kneeling girl beside her. 'I have recently acquired and trained an exquisite slave who has exceeded my expectations in her submissiveness. I therefore wish to share my good fortune with you.'

She gestures towards Pauline who suddenly feels a spasm in her loins and realises that the dildo strapped inside her is also a vibrator. Kneeling beside her mistress has settled Pauline's lust a fraction, enough to contain it, but the new stimulus rekindles her arousal.

'She has been trained in all three slave disciplines and, as you can see she is an exquisite physical specimen.' There are murmurs of approval and a few lewd comments. 'And, I can assure you, she is perfectly conditioned.' Lady Simone pauses and looks down at the kneeling slave girl, she can clearly see Pauline's arousal, the girl is panting with lust, her chest heaving, nostrils flaring above her huge gag, saliva is running freely down her chin and over her breasts, dripping from swollen nipples; her face and chest are flushed, burning with desire, her pupils widely dilated as she fights to hold back the orgasm that is building inside her.

'I thought I might call her Princess.' There is general laughter and more lewd comments. Lady Simone looks down. 'Do you want to come, Princess ?'

Pauline can barely think of anything other than her desperate need to come. Part of her is aware of the intense humiliation that is being heaped upon her but mostly she is just engulfed by the animal lust of her body. She nods slightly, a movement restricted by the high posture collar locked around her throat, and makes a small pleading noise.

'Very well, Princess, your Mistress gives you permission to come.'

Pleasure engulfs her, swamping her senses that have been heightened by her training and then so cruelly deprived of stimulation in preparation for this moment. It is like a ball of energy that starts in her loins and then washes through her body making every nerve tingle. She is dimly aware that she is screaming around her gag, fighting her bonds in a way that only emphasises her helplessness and increases her arousal. The pleasure goes on and on, driven by the vibrator inside her and the slave gel that seems to have permeated every part of her.

Finally, she opens her eyes, her heart is pounding and her skin flushed, her chest is heaving and she fights to draw air in around the gag. She realises that the vibrator has stopped and struggles to regain control over her body, trying to focus on the assembled crowd before her who are cheering and applauding. She thinks she may have wet herself but it may just have been a mix of the almost unbearable spasms in the muscles of her pelvis clamping around the dildo inside her and the oil on her skin mixed with her sweat, saliva and vaginal fluid.

Although she cannot know it, the orgasm has lasted a little over five minutes, not one of the longest ever recorded for a conditioned southern slave but significant in its impact; a sign that she has been trained and conditioned skillfully.

Lady Simone strokes her slave's hair. 'Good girl.'

Pauline smiles weakly around her gag and looks up at her mistress. The crowd cheer again.

Lady Simone turns to the Gaian priestess who lifts her arms intoning a prayer to the Maiden Earth then the southern queen nods to Fetish who turns to the brazier. The room falls silent. Fetish uses a cloth to take a long iron from the glowing heat and passes it to Lady Simone who takes it in a leather-gloved hand. All eyes in to room except Pauline's are fixed on the glowing red tip. Slaves are frequently branded in Linden but not in such a traditional way. Pauline stares ahead, eyes fixed on the far end of the chamber where the arms of Milan hang in relief; the crowned black panther en bas at its centre seems to glare down imperiously her.

Lady Simone raises the iron and then slowly lowers it towards Pauline's thigh. The kneeling girl can see it descend in the peripheries of her vision. This is the only part of the ceremony of which she is truly afraid and the rapidity of her heartbeat and breathing do little to help calm her. She does, however, have her training to steady her, the hours of discipline she has had to endure and this helps her to face what is to come. The exertion of the orgasm instills a calmness but she is aware that her body will be more than usually sensitive as he lust fades.

For an instant she can feel the heat of the iron near her thigh and then the pain hits her, washing over her with as much intensity as the recent orgasm. She is aware of her heart hammering in her chest and her muscles carmping with the exertion of keeping utterly still, overcoming the natural urge of her body to flee the agony that is being imposed upon her. It is like every punishment she has endured in her training combined in one intense moment. Nausea washes over her, sweat a pours from her body as if it can dissipate the heat burning into her thigh then the smell of burning flesh reaches her flaring nostrils and she bites down on her gag, closing her eyes in one last desperate attempt to bear the pain.

And then it is over, the source of her agony removed though her thigh still burns nauseatingly. She opens her eyes and sees her mistress' crest and the crowned black panther on its azure background high on the wall blurred through a mist of tears. A part of her knows this symbol is what is now forever imprinted on her body and for a moment she thinks she can feel the exact form of the crowned creature.

'Good girl.' Her mistress strokes her hair again.

Then something touches her thigh and she jumps more in surprise as pain, letting out a startled cry, suddenly aware again of her surroundings. Fetish has applied a cold pad to her new brand and, although it seems to calm the terrible pain, it is more than Pauline can bear. Despite all her willpower she begins to sob uncontrollably.

The sudden noise in the silent hall is enough to set the crowd roaring and, as Pauline, or the branded slave girl that is now Princess, kneels, tears rolling down her cheeks, chest heaving with uncontrollable sobs they celebrate her mistress' total dominance over the child of her enemy.

Fetish removes the cuffs holding Princess' wrists and elbows behind her back.

'Heel !' Lady Simone speaks the word loudly ensuring all those assembled can hear her command as she steps from the dais and as the crowd bow, all keep their eyes raised.

Under their gaze, Princess drops forward onto all fours and crawls behind her mistress. As before the bells hanging from the nipples of her huge breasts jingle as she moves, the heavy flesh swaying beneath her. The pain in her thigh has abated a little and, while her mistress has been speaking, Princess has been subject to the effects of more slave gel leaking from the dildo. Thus, as she crawls at the heel of her mistress, the dildo begins to arouse her again.

She follows her mistress as a slave, a long steady and utterly humiliating crawl towards the doors beneath the panther crest, which are opened by guards, and she follows her mistress into the chamber beyond. The doors close behind them. There is a low podium in the centre and Lady Simone leads Princess towards it, ordering her to climb onto it. The slave obeys kneeling at its centre with her legs wide and her breasts thrust forward placing her wrists behind her. There are a number of open cuffs and light chains lying ready for use. Lady Simone activates a foot pedal and the podium rises. When the podium has reached waist height it stops and Lady Simone steps behind her slave.

Princess' arms are, again, cuffed behind her. Lady Simone then steps back in front of her and, taking two chains that are bolted to the podium fastens one to each of her slave's nipple rings.

With her slave secure, Lady Simone nods to her guards who open the doors again. The chamber is lined with tables piled high with food just as it was at the ball and the guests flow through to eat, drink and admire their Donna's new slave.


CHAPTER 11

HARMONY, BELLANIA. LATE AFTERNOON

Harmony has changed since Boot Girl left. Even in the downtown area with its clubs and bars the mood is subdued. Most noticeable is the number of reservists on the streets in the black leather of military fatigues.

Lash has flown them up, skimming lower over the countryside than any of the others would have thought possible to avoid detection, Hannah and Jezebel spurring her on as she wove the flyer between trees and hopped over hedges at near supersonic speed while Fetish sat in the back looking pale and trying not to vomit.

They have left the flyer behind a disused factory on the edge of the commercial district and walked a short distance to an upmarket car dealership where Jezebel has 'acquired' a car, an open top sports model a sleek and expensive hover model that she now drives toward the Citadel, the oldest part of the city and the centre of nightlife in Harmony.

Fetish sits in front beside Jezebel while Hannah and Lash sit behind; Lash has her arm around Hannah's shoulder; all wear their colours except Hannah who wears the pink slave silk twisted around her body and pulled through a the ring which sits at her naval; the car's top is down and the speakers blare music which fills the street. It is late afternoon and, after a bright day, only a little chill. As they approach the waterfront they spot a crowd of girls and short dresses and heels, clearly heading in the same direction as them. Minx is among them.

Jezebel pulls up and Minx detaches herself from the group.

'Yo, Jez.' Minx reaches over and the two clasp hands. 'Fetish, how's yu doin' ?' She looks in to the back and nods with more reserve. 'Lash.' Then she looks at Hannah. 'Whoa, hello gorgeous !' She frowns. 'Ain't we met before ?'

Hannah's eyes widen and she feels herself begin to blush at the thought of Minx seeing her like this she turns her face quickly away.

'Back off, malevolent pixie !' Lash growls a warning at Minx with a ferocity that surprises Hannah.

Minx raises her hands in defense. 'Ok, crazy southern lady, I'm just checking out your candy.'

'Oh, yeah, this is...' Fetish points to the back seat. 'What do you call yourself these days ?...Boot Slave ? Hannah ?' Fetish addresses the little gang leader. 'I'm surprised you two don't know each other. Lash's little blonde sub used to work here I believe but prefers the southern climes and southern donna's if you know what I mean.'

Minx focuses on Fetish. 'So what you doin' here. Thought you might be keeping a bit of a low profile with this princess business ?'

'Going to Choc's.' Festish says. 'Holly and the Hotts are playing. We could hardly pass up the opportunity.'

'And you have tickets ?'

Fetish smiles. 'What do you think ?'

'Want some ?'

'Didn't think we'd need any.'

Minx grins. 'Give us a ride.'

'What's in it for us ?'

Minx reaches into her bra and pulls out a small plastic dispenser. She pops a pill into Fetish's hand. 'You want one Jez ?'

Jezebel opens her hand. 'Hit me.'

'How about our kissin' couple in the back ? Hey, Lash, how come you ain't got the bitch in chains or some such southern shit ?'

Lash glares back. 'Fuck off, Minx.'

'Ok, but I bet your little lady would like one.' She stretches across towards Hannah who accepts a pill, looking down as she takes it in her hand.

'You should try one Lash.' Hannah pops the small blue object onto her tongue.

Minx jumps over the side of the car and slides in next to Hannah.

'Ooooh, blondie, you smell great. You sure we ain't met before ?'

Lash glares but says nothing and Jezebel pulls out into the traffic.

Half a mile further on they pass another group of reservists in their tight leather catsuits and equipment harnesses.

'What's all this about ?' Hannah is relaxed by the pill and less anxious that Minx will recognise her. They have only met with Hannah in her alter ego as Boot Girl.

Minx looks surprised. 'You're kiddin' me, blondie ? Princess Pauline went missing three months ago and it was the worst kept secret in the kingdom that Lady Simone took her. Then that vid hit last week and the Contesse freaked.'

'Vid ?' Hannah looks directly at Minx.

'Where you been ? Southern slaving ceremony, Southern Sim had Princess P crawling naked in front of her friends and the lawyers say it's all perfectly legal ! Slavery's allowed in the south, and there's little doubt Princess P has pledged anyway judging by the way she came on command.'

'So why the troops ? Is there really going to go to war ?' A tension builds in Hannah's stomach.

'Dunno. There's a lot of anger here. You know a few girls disappear to the south every week. Tends to be hushed up. Feelin' is, if the big C can't protect her own daughter there ain't no hope for anyone else's. There's been protests, riots, things have got ugly. She may go an' take the little miss back but she may just use the troopers to put down the riots. Mall got trashed last week.'

Minx pauses to pop a candy of her own.


LA DONNA'S PRIVATE CHAMBERS, CASTLE KLAW, DONIA, THE SAME EVENING

'She is a beautiful specimen.' Lady Devonshire smiles as she appraises Princess. The Angel stands with Lady Simone in the Donna's private chambers. The converse in Donan.

'Yes, I begin to understand the Angelisch custom of a pet. A slave used entirely for ornamentation sounds rather decadent but I can see it's advantages.'

Lady Devonshire smiles knowingly. 'Well, not entirely for ornamentation, my Lady. They do have some uses.'

Princess stands behind her mistress; the brunette is naked apart from ankle high slave boots in shiny leather, the azure of House Milan, and matching posture collar; her arms are tightly restrained behind her in a leather slave sheath, the straps crossing above her enhanced breasts; a massive ball gag in the same colour as her bonds fills her mouth. Her brown eyes are bright with arousal and she shifts her hips restlessly from side to side as the dildo she now wears almost every waking hour inside her continues to leech slave gel and tease her with every movement. The scar on her thigh, the crouching panther burned into her flesh as a s sign of her slavery itches furiously but she cannot reach it and has not yet even been able to touch it, even briefly with her fingers.

Lady Simone smiles. 'Yes, and I can assure you she is most willing; skilled too and very eager to please.'

Both women laugh and Princess' face burns with the humiliation of her submission.

'I see you continue to enhance her.'

'Yes, as you can see she easily takes a breast leash now.' Lady Simone refers to the broad leather strap buckled around Princess' left breast dimpling the flesh. Such restraints are not new to Pauline but for one to sit firmly on her breasts is a new experience; this one is a southern spiked breast cuff so that, even with her hands free the slave could probably not slide it off her breast without significant pain and damage. A leash runs from the breast cuff where a loop encircles the Donna's left wrist.

'Are you considering any more augmentation ? I have seen quite extensive modifications in some of the barbarian cities, tattoos and skin bleaches, facial changes even prostheses.'

'No, well, not yet at least other than a little more breast enlargement.' Lady Simone turns to her helpless slave and toys with one of the girl's huge nipples before flicking the bell dangling from its piercing ring. The stimulation is enough to make the conditioned slave come and she lets out a small gasp around her gag swaying briefly on the boots. 'As you can see she is almost perfectly suited to my needs.'

'Delicious.' Lady Devonshire reaches out and plays with Pauline's other breast.

The slave body quivers as she climaxes again.

La Donna frowns. 'Now, I believe you are to take your leave of us ?'

'Yes, my Lady.' The Angel curtseys in the Angelisch style. 'I would thank you for your hospitality and gift of the slave.'

Lady Simone inclines her head acknowledging the remark. 'When you return I could perhaps instruct Fetish to condition her further.'

'Fetish.' Lady Devonshire smiles. 'Now there's a woman who takes pride in her work. I would accept your gracious offer my Lady but as I travel south I had thought to make the slave a gift to my next host. As you know the barbarians adore a buxom country wench and she appears extremely well conditioned already.'

Lady Simone inclines her head again. 'Then let me delay you no longer.'

Lady Devonshire bows respectfully. 'My Lady.' Then the Angel turns on the heels of her massive Angelisch boots and strides from the chamber.

Lady Simone turns back to Princess.

'You are such a slut.' She strokes a finger down the helpless girl's belly and the slave starts to sway her hips again. 'Stop that.' She slaps Princess' breasts and the girl stills her hips but her eyes, still bright with arousal, show her frustrated need. 'I know you're just waiting for me to give you permission to come.' Simone's fingers slide between Pauline's legs and the slave shudders to orgasm. 'Oh, you bad girl ! I can see I'm going to have to punish you again but first I want you to please me.'

She steps back. 'Kneel.'

Princess obeys dropping immediately, spreading her legs wide, eyes shining with excitement at the utter humilation of her position. Lady Simone removes her slave's gag then unbuckles her own cage skirt and the crotch strap of the harness she wears.


CHOC'S NIGHTCLUB, WATERFRONT, HARMONY

They arrive at Choc's some eighty minutes later at a crawl which could have been avoided had they walked. However, they are all, except Lash, chilled from their Blue Candy and the time passes in a haze of pleasure. They dump the car opposite the club and cross the stationary traffic. The sky is nearly dark and the flashing neon signs light the streets in a jarring array of lurid colours.

Hannah sidles up to Minx. 'Hey, you got any Ks ?'

'Gonna fuck with the crazy southern bitch are ya ?'

Hannah smiles. 'She don't need tempting. How much ?'

'Thirty.'

'Fuck off.'

'Times 'r' 'ard.' She gestures to a group of soldiers. 'Take it of leave it.'

'Ok.' Hannah pulls notes from her boots and pays for the little twist of sugar with two pockets on either end tucking it into the pink silk around her breasts.

Music pulses from the club and they are hit by a rush of heat as the door opens. Fetish has no difficulty obtaining entry, the club thrives on celebrity visitors from any side of the street. As they enter Lash grabs Hannah by the arm and pulls her to one side. They stand together in the foyer. Hannah is still relaxed from the blue and offers no resistance.

'What you doing with that piece of shit ?' Lash's lips draw back into a snarl.

Hannah's brain struggles to comprehend Lash's anger.

'Are you jealous, Lash ?'

Lash suddenly looks bashful.

'I...I just don't like the idea of her giving you drugs.'

Hannah is touched, if somewhat surprised, by Lash's outburst. She slides her arms around her lover's neck and kisses her.

'If you're worried about me why don't you tie me ?' She smiles and kisses Lash again on the mouth rubbing her hips suggestively against her lovers'.

Several other girls entering the club are restrained and on leashes; Hannah has spotted a buxom brunette in tight black PVC trousers but naked form the waist up, trailing behind an impeccably made up Angelisch blonde on a nipple leash, the brunette's arms are sheathed tightly behind her exhibiting her large firm breasts delightfully; a redhead in an overbust white corset, tiny knickers and ankle high toe boots follows a blonde dominatrix dressed in a leather bikini, the redhead's breasts are heavily bruised as are her buttocks, her wrists are cuffed behind her.

Lash grins. 'You wouldn't mind ?'

Hannah kisses her again. 'One condition.'

Lash is immediately tense again.

'Well, only if you want to. You can tie me anyway. You know if like it when you do.'

'Ok ?'

Hannah produces the Kiss Kandy from its silken pocket. 'Share this with me.'

'Hannah, I don't take drugs.'

'But you drink Valka. Same difference.'

Lash sighs. 'No...I don't want to.'

'Ok, tie me and let's go in.' Hannah tucks the K back next to her chest the turns and crosses her wrists. Lash takes a strip of silk and binds her then spins her round.

They kiss again.

'Oh, what the fuck.' Lash reaches in for the drug, tweaking Hannah's nipple.

'Hey, not that one.'

Lash grins.

'Put one end between your teeth then kiss me. We bite together.'

Lash does as she is told putting the little sugar ball at one end of the twist in her mouth. She leans to kiss Hannah who opens her mouth. They kiss for a moment then Hannah crunches and hears Lash do the same.

A rush of pleasure washes over her, sparks of light flickering in her vision, adrenaline surging, heart racing; she sees Lash's pupils dilate with a clarity beyond her normal vision. The sound of the music seems to intensify.

'Let's go in.'

Lash leads the way, pushing the doors of the main space open in a rush of noise that hits them both with a physical force.

Slut in Shackles, the support band are in full voice, heavy base and high synth merging with wolf growl. They spot Jezebel and Fetish at the bar, Minx is dancing with Punk close by, her scarlet hair flying as the shakes her head. Fetish hands Lash a shot of Valka.

'Lash, are you high ?'

'Double K !' Hannah stands beside her lover as Lash downs the double shot and exhales.

'Not drinking then BG ?' Like the others Jezebel has to shout over the music. Hannah turns and shows her bound hands.

Lash grins wolfishly and takes Hannah's drink. 'Shame to waste it.' She downs it, another double.

'Come on.' Lash hooks a finger into the silk around Hannah's chest and pulls her onto the dance floor. They stay close, writhing against each other, grinding their hips to the music. Lash's movements are sinuous and precise, her balance and rhythm perfect. Hannah watches as she drops to a deep crouch her head rolling, dreadlocks flying, hips thrusting rhythmically. She attracts a lot of attention and when she draws Hannah in there are a number of disappointed girls around her.

An hour later and the headline band are on stage, Holly Hott, as usual is naked, her skin painted gold overlaid with intricate patterns in sequins fixed to her body while her backing singers, the Hott girls, are naked and silver. The room is packed, dancers pressed together like one giant mosh pit. Though she has tried to stay with Lash, Hannah has been swept forward towards the stage, hands assisting her in unwanted and often startlingly intimate ways. Hannah knows this is something that often happens to subs in the clubs and doesn't worry too much though she is a little anxious of leaving Lash.

Suddenly she finds Minx in front of her.

'Hey, blondie. Want a little more gear ?'

Hannah shakes her head. The K is still coursing through her system. She is so horny that for a moment, even Minx attracts her.

'Shame.' Minx leans forward and grabs her buttocks pulling her in. 'Little smooch then ?'

'Fuck off, Minx.' They are pressed very close together; it would be easy to bring her knee up but Hannah simply squirms in Minx's grip.

'Bad girl.' Minx slaps Hannah's buttock.

Then Hannah feels Minx's hand between her thighs.

'Oh fuck !' Hannah squirms at once repulsed and excited.

Fingers push inside her sex.

'Little something for you. Might change your mind.'

Minx reaches up and pulls down the silk covering Hannah's chest.

'Lovely nips.' She squeezes both of them and then tries to draw Hannah into a kiss but something knocks her to the side.

It is Lash's fist.

Hannah feels relief and a gratitude to Lash that is beyond what she would have expected. Lash has saved her and has an overwhelming urge to thank her lover. The Kaj'ra looks as if she might follow up her attack on Minx but Hannah pushes herself between them and Lash pauses, the fury on her face fading as she lifts the pink silk trying to cover Hannah's chest. Being dressed again is suddenly the last thing Hannah wants. She struggles briefly to ensure her breasts stay exposed and then tries to kiss her lover and saviour; when Lash doesn't respond immediately, Hannah thrusts herself against her lover.

'Hannah, behave.'

Hannah kisses her urgently on the mouth smothering the words and Lash yields wrapping the blonde in her in her arms and returning the kiss. Far from satisfying Hannah this inflames her passion and she lifts her thigh against her lover's hip.

'Fuck me, Lash ! Fuck me now !' Hannah is pulling frantically at her bonds in her desperation to get closer to her lover.

'Calm down, Hannah. What's the matter ? Look, let me untie you ?'

'Don't you fucking dare.' She kisses Lash with renewed urgency. 'I so want you now !'

'Get a room you two.' Jezebel has appeared and is discretely trying to stop Minx from escalating the fight; she rolls her eyes.

'Yes, Lash, lets get a room and fuck each others brains out. I want you to fuck me 'til i can't come any more and then fuck me again just to be sure.' Hannah's words are tumbling out and others are starting to notice the way the topless girl is ranting and thrashing around.

Lash looks increasingly uncomfortable. 'Are you unwell, Hannah ?'

'Nothing that can't be cured by getting a room. Then when you've fucked me you can punish me for being such a bad slave.'

'Very well, I will rent a room.' Lash hooks a finger in the kri at Hannah's navel and leads her towards the foyer.

At the bar Jezebel, Fetish and a slightly nervous looking Minx regroup. Holly has finished the first part of her set and it is possible to talk.

Minx rubs her bruised jaw. 'Why d'u associate with that crazy southern bitch ?'

'Minx, you know she doesn't like you, and you know how possessive she is.' Jezebel has an almost motherly fondness for Minx but her tone is admonishing. 'Why did you try it on with Hannah ?'

'Thought I could change blondie's mind.'

'Well, don't. Lash is a loose cannon at the best of times and you've made her high ! She could have killed you.' Jezebel pushes Minx a drink. 'Anyway, you give B...the girl something ?'

Minx shrugs.

'Tell me, Minx.' Jezebel's voice takes on a resonant tone.

'Just a bit o' slave cake.' Minx has spoken before she can stop herself.

'Cake ! How much ?'

Minx shrugs again. 'Pellet.' She gestures with her fingers how she gave it.

'A whole pellet in the...? Minx that's enough for about four jars of gel.'

'Five, actually, it's good quality shit that.' Minx tries desperately to stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. 'Anyway the blonde's a slave she won't OD on it.'

'Minx ! Hannah's a northerner, she's from Harmony for Gaia's sake. She's probably never used slave gel in her life.'

Minx grins. 'She's gonna take a lot o' satisfying then. Hope your southern friends got the stamina.'

Despite her concern Jezebel laughs.

'Fok'an.' Lash stands tall, her spine erect, head up.

She has rented a playroom in the back of the club; such rooms are commonly available for hire by the hour.

Hannah obeys dropping to her knees, legs spread wide, shoulders back, head bowed, thrusting out the tiny breasts she now owns. 'Tak'an qua Kaj'ra an.'

'You want to be my slave ?'

'Yes, Mistress. Please.' Hannah's voice is almost a whine.

'A slave must be disciplined.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'And utterly obedient.'

'I can be.' There is silence for a moment. 'Oh, Mistress, please fuck me.'

'I might have to gag you too.'

'I'd like that.'

Lash takes a large ball gag from the wall and buckles it into Hannah's mouth. Then she strips off the silk strips leaving Hannah naked and kneeling with her hands behind her back.

'A slave needs a collar.' Lash takes a locking steel collar from the wall. Lift your head. Hannah obeys and Lash locks the collar around her neck. As she hears the lock click, Hannah shudders with pleasure.

'Have you just come, Slave ?'

Hannah nods and Lash grins.

'As you know, orgasm denial is not really part of Pre'stkwe'in culture though sometimes a slave is commanded to withhold orgasm so that she is ready to climax on demand. However, we are in the north, and you have just come without permission. I would say that warranted a punishment, would you ?'

Hannah nods, the thought of Lash punishing her, doing anything to her, is all she can think of in her current state.

Lash takes down a set of nipple clamps, these have small weights attached; she leans over Hannah's shoulder and rubs her palms over the kneeling girl's swollen sensitive nipples. Hannah shudders, climaxing again.

'You really are a bad girl.' Lash's voice is playful and despite the rebuke she continues to tease Hannah's nipples.

'I expect they are very sensitive at the moment.' She cups Hannah's tiny breasts and the kneeling girl gasps with pleasure as she orgasms strongly. Still panting, Hannah turns her head nuzzling against the leather covering Lash's breasts as her lover and mistress continues to tease her own.

'Do you wish to climax again.'

Hannah nods.

'Wait until the clamps are on. Both of them.'

Hannah nods to signify her understanding but is not sure she can control her body even though Lash has removed her hands from her breast. Lash carefully applies the clamps to Hannah's nipples and then teases their tips with her palm.

'Good, girl. You may come.'

It only a few seconds until she climaxes again but Lash notices the delay.

'Tired already ?'

Hannah shakes her head.

'Perhaps you need a little more stimulation.'

That's probably the last thing I need though it's definitely what I want.

Lash moves to stand in front of the kneeling slave and Hannah looks adoringly at the trim leather clad body.

No, it's what I need.

Lash squats down spreading her legs.

Fuck me, Mistress. Please.

Hannah looks deeply into Lash's beautiful violet eyes as the villainess plays with the weights hanging from Hannah's nipples; then Lash leans forward and takes Hannah's right nipple in her teeth, her tongue flicking the tip. Normally this would not be enough to make Hannah come but stimulated by an overdose of slave gel and with her nipples sensitive from the hormones she is taking she writhes as another orgasm grips her and when Lash does not stop, continuing to bite and lick Hannah's nipple, one climax follows another until the slave is crying out through her gag.

Finally Lash stops leaving Hannah's gasping around her gag.

'Shall I try the other one ?'

Hannah grins around her gag.

'You are right. You do not have any say in the matter.' Lash's teeth close over Hannah's left nipple.


TWENTY MINUTES LATER

'Heel.' Lash has freed Hannah's wrists and tied the silk to the ring on Hannah's collar to use as a leash. The slave is still in thrall to the slave gel and, despite the multiple orgasms she has experienced her body still craves more.

Obediently she drops to all fours rubbing her cheek against the leather of her mistress' costume.

Lash gives her a moment to indulge herself then steps forwards drawing on the leash. Hannah follows her submissively, the very act of obedience arousing her as much as the swinging nipple weights which tease her mercilessly.

There is as S-stock on the other side of the room and Lash leads her slave to this. On command Hannah kneels placing her wrists and neck in the pillory in front of her and Lash closes the bar adjusting the padded steel irises to lock the slave's wrists in place. She repeats the process with Hannah's ankles.

Lash strokes Hannah's naked buttocks.

'I can see why the whole chateau loves these.' She gives Hannah a playful slap and before she can stop herself Hannah climaxes.

'Still disobedient I see.'

Lash slaps Hannah's bottom again.

'Fetish tells me that spanking is more intimate and sensual than whipping. She likes the close contact, the sound and feel of flesh on flesh.'

As she speaks Lash continues to spank her slave with one hand as the other slides between the helpless blonde's legs. Hannah responds by climaxing repeatedly the pain from the repeated blows simply mingling for her with the heat and desire in her loins.

'I can see now what she means.' Lash slips her fingers into Hannah's sex and the slave comes again.

'You know I think I will get you conditioned when we get back. Would you like that ?'

'Mmmmm...' Hannah nods dreamily. As well as the teasing and spanking she is subject to constant stimulation from the weights swinging from her clamped nipples.

'In the southern cities our conditioning is different but there is no doubt that gel conditioned slaves are delightfully responsive.' She teases Hannah's sex again and the slave climaxes obediently. 'Actually, I think I will probably do it myself. What do you think ? Perhaps a month doing this every day for three or four hours ?'

Hannah moans into her gag.

'Of course, if you are my slave, I will have to punish you when you disobey me.'

Hannah nods.

'And you will be expected to please me whenever I wish.'

Hannah nods again more urgently.

'I think it's time for you to please me.'

There is a seat in front of the S-stock designed specifically for this and, after she has removed her leather suit Lash sits in front of her slave and spreads her legs.

She removes Hannah's gag then sits back.

Lash's first orgasm comes quickly and gripping her strongly under Hannah's skilled tongue but as her mistress spasms, her fists gripping Hannah's hair, the kneeling slave is already feeling her own needs growing again. It doesn't take her long to bring her mistress to a second climax either but as she does Hannah is becoming increasingly distracted by her own body's needs. Helpless in the S-stock she can do little to stimulate herself but the slave gel continues to arouse her captive body and she finds herself jerking in the frame to make the weights pull repeatedly on her clamped nipples. After a few moments, Lash realises how distracted her slave had become.

'I can see I'm not going to get any more sense from you for a while.'

'I'm sorry, Mistress.' Hannah is panting with lust and the exertion of her efforts to tease herself.

'You will be.' Lash stands. 'Although seeing you like this is really turning me on too.'

'Please make me come again, Mistress.'

'It seems we are both very horny tonight, though some of us more than others.' Lash smiles. 'Is this the effect of all your city's illicit drugs ?'

'Mostly, Mistress.'

'Did you take anything else from Minx ?'

'No, Mistr...' Hannah stops herself suddenly. 'Oh shit ! She's put something inside me.'

'I think I can guess what that might be.' Lash laughs. 'Have you ever used slave gel before ?'

'No.' Hannah's thoughts are racing furiously but are hampered by the drug and the need it is causing inside her.

'I think you mean 'No, Mistress'.'

'No, Mistress. I mean, yes, Mistress. I've never used slave gel because always been horny enough.'

Lash smiles.

'Please make me come again, Mistress.'

Lash walks over to look at the toys. Hannah watches her enjoying the sight of her lovers naked body despite all its scars and blemishes.

'Mistress ?'

'Yes, slave.'

'You are very beautiful, Mistress.'

Lash turns and smiles. 'I have been called many things but beautiful has never been one of them.' She runs her fingers over the selection of whips. 'And do not think that it will save you from punishment.'

'Of course not, Mistress.'

Lash picks up a large dildo fixed to a harness. 'Though it may postpone it.'

Hannah watches as Lash straps the dildo to her hips; it is twice the diameter of the one they have played with in Lash's quarters.

'I think this will help to satisfy you. For a while, at least.' She kneels down behind Hannah and eases the tip of enormous dildo into Hannah's pussy.

Hannah gasps and Lash slowly leans forward impaling her helpless lover.

'Mistress, please...I'm gonna...ooooooohhh.' Hannah comes crying out with pleasure.

'You were saying.'

'Again, Mistress. Please... I really want to...oooooooohhhhhhh.' Hannah's cry is louder this time. 'Oh Gaia...don't stop. Don't ever stop.'

'I think I'd better gag you.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Lash leans forward to gag her lover and Hannah climaxes again.

It is four hours later when Lash rejoins Jezebel and Fetish. She carries a sleeping Boot Girl over her shoulder, the heroine's wrists are bound behind her with silk and her ankles are crossed and bound too; the ring is once again fastened between her teeth as a gag. The couple have spent the entire time making love and although Lash is tired Hannah's body is utterly spent from the constant and repeated orgasms she has enjoyed. The steel collar is still locked around her throat and Lash has paid for it along with the bill for the room.

'You look like you've had fun.' Jezebel looks up; the brunette is sitting in a chair with her legs spread, a silver haired and silver skinned Hott girl kneels between her legs using her tongue to please the villainess; the Hott girl's arms are laced behind her into a single sleeve.

'Can't complain.' Lash pats Boot Girl's bottom which is clearly red and bruised, the sleeping heroine does not stir.

'You missed a great show.' Fetish lies on her back, naked, her skin flushed; two Hott girls kneel beside her, one on each side, both are restrained in body harnesses, their arms folded behind them; one is has Fetish's left nipple in her mouth and the other is raking her tongue over the villainess' sex. Fetish holds a remote control in each hand one for each of the girls. As Lash deposits Hannah on a couch, Fetish squeezes one of the remotes and the corresponding girl gives a yelp before applying her tongue more diligently between Fetish's legs.

Minx accounts for the final silver-skinned girl; the Hott girl is strapped to a low table and Minx is snorting Fizz from the girl's navel. As Lash watches she takes some of the powder on her tongue and bends to kiss the naked musician.

'Where's Holly ?'

'Took off with Punk.' Minx informs her. The small gang leaders face is swollen where Lash hit her earlier in the evening. 'Hey, Lash, I'm sorry about earlier.'

Lash is self-consciously but magnanimous. 'It appears your evening ended well.'

'Guess we ought to be heading out.' Fetish looks up. 'Oh, good girl.' She squeezes the other remote and the kneeling Hott girl, the one currently sucking on her nipple gives a gentle cry of pleasure. 'Don't want o outstay our welcome.'

Suddenly the door crashes open.


AN HOUR LATER

Boot Girl is hanging by her wrists and she is naked. She is aware of noise around her and bright light. She cautiously opens one eye.

'Nice of you to join us.' The voice is familiar.

Shit

Hannah's eyelids almost snap open. She is in some sort of control room, there is a panel of switches and instruments in front of her; a leather clad city trooper stands to one side, legs apart, arms clasps behind her. Another woman stands in front of her.

Her sister smiles up at her.

'..a. ?' What ?

'Someone's been a very bad girl.' Adele makes a show of inspecting Boot Girl's body. 'These look sore.' She reaches up and touches one of Hannah's nipples. 'Been spanked too I see. Quite the little submissive. I know you won't mind if I have a bit of fun too.'

Hannah glares at her. '.u.. o..'

'I'd say you're not really in a position to issue any demands. And, as I said, you've been a very bad girl, and you know what happens to bad girls.' Adele takes a tazer from a trooper and holds it up. Hannah rolls her eyes.

'Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything to you.' Adele smiles mischievously. 'You'd probably just enjoy it. No, I've got something far more interesting to play with.' She flips a switch on the panel and a screen rises directly over the control panel.

Behind the screen is another room separated by what is obviously a one-way mirror. Lash is in the other room strapped to a punishment frame; the southerners body is pulled into a tight X, her wrists and ankles chained in place, a steel bar across the small of her back forces her into a taut arch; she is gagged and wires are clipped to her nipples and genitals. Adele presses a button and Lash's body spasms with pain; the blonde keeps the button down for several seconds before finally releasing it; as she does so Lash's body relaxes as far as is possible in the brutally tight bonds.

Adele turns to Hannah. 'I assume this one is your lover. If not then we can play the same game with one of the other two.'

Adele presses the button again and Hannah watches Lash writhe in pain, her lover's powerful muscles flexing against the the unyielding chains, tendons standing out like steel cords; Lash's face and body are bruised'

'She put up quite fight this one. I have three troopers in hospital. We had to tazer her three times and even then it took six to pin her down. I can certainly see why you've taken her as a lover. I know how you long to be dominated.'

Hannah glares back and Adele shrugs leaning on the button again; behind her Lash spasms in pain tensing and biting down on her gag. 'You do love her, don't you ?'

'..o. i. !'

'What's that ? You want me to stop it ? You don't seem to understand how things work. You're the one on bondage, I'm the one in charge. I say what happens.'

'..ea..' Please.

'Answer the question. Are you her lover ?'

Hannah nods and Adele releases the button. Lash's body sags her skin glistening with sweat in the harsh light of the cell.

'Good girl. Well, now I've got your attention perhaps we can have a meaningful discussion and by that I mean I'll talk and you'll listen or the animal in there gets it. It's not as if you can say much with that gag in your mouth. Which reminds me, I recall you taking advantage of me last time we spoke. Don't for a minute think i won't hold that against you either.' She turns to the trooper. 'Out.'

The girls snaps to attention then turns on her heels and leaves.

When the door has closed again Adele starts to speak.

'So, Sis. Just you, me and this button here.' Her hand hovers over the button. 'I assume you recall our last encounter ?'

Hannah glares at her and Adele lowers her palm. Hannah nods.

'Good. And you recall I set you a little task ?'

Hannah nods again.

'And how's that going ?'

Hannah shrugs as best she can in hr bondage.

Adele's hand drops onto the button.

'.o. ..o. i. !' No. Stop it !

Adele keeps her hand on the button and turns to watch Lash who is thrashing her head from side to side her face contorted with pain.

'..ea..'

Adele lifts her hand and turns back to her sister.

'Oh, Hannah, you really have fucked up this time. I'm not saying I ever approved of the Boot Girl thing but at least you were doing something useful. Illegal, yes, but useful.' She picks up the pink silks that have been Hannah's clothes and bonds. 'Oh, how the mighty fall. But I suppose it's not as if you were actually ever good at anything...


THE MARKET SQUARE, LINDEN, DONIA

They are dropped back in the market square of Linden at dawn by Lady de Renee's pilot, a squad of troops pushing them from the craft's open door as it hovers low over the dusty square. The have made no secret of their approach; for all her bluster, La Donna has not technology that can detect or even engage the flyer. A small crowd gather as Jezebel holds a barely conscious Lash still naked and chained; Hannah is naked and chained too, her wrists cuffed behind her back and her ankles hobbled, Lash's collar still locked around her neck, she stumbles as she lands falling heavily and is helped up by bruised Fetish still clad in the tattered remains of her rubber dress.

Jezebel alone seems uncowed, her dark eyes are determinedly resolute and she remains utterly silent as she has been since their reuniting in the flyer; her face is bruised, her costume grubby and her stockings torn. She starts towards the castle carrying Lash and Fetish helps Hannah. The small crowd part, watching them pass.

They are admitted by a surprised guard who ushers them into the guardroom as Jezebel sends for the physician. Lash and Hannah are freed with bolt cutters and when she is able Hannah holds her lover close.

'Well, this is nice.' Fetish's voice is laced with irony. 'Which of us is going to tell La Donna we lost her flyer ?'

'I'll do it.' Jezebel's reply is measured, overcalm.

Hannah looks up as Jezebel turns to go and, for the first time sees the brand on the brunette's thigh. Before she can speak Jezebel is gone and in moments the physician arrives. Hannah recounts the nights events as far as she recalls them with some input from Fetish.

The physician rolls her eyes. 'You don't deserve to be in charge of your own bodies let alone the slaves you train. It's amazing any of them survive.' She examines Lash. 'Mild concussion and a hangover from the drugs, some muscle damage, I expect I would like to get but we'll get her to the infirmary and run some tests.' She calls to the guard. 'Get a stretcher and take her.'

'I'll take her.' Hannah holds her lover protectively.

'No. Let's not add to her troubles by dropping her along the way.' The physician is used to dealing with villainesses and guards, then she looks at Hannah and her voice softens. 'Go and get yourself clean and rested. I'm sure she'll be fine.' She smiles and adds quietly. 'I see the other medicine is working too.' Hannah looks down. 'Some clothes would be good, though I know you don't like to wear much anyway.'

'And you, Fetish ? Anything broken ?'

'I've had worse.'

'Yes, I'm sure you all have and fortunately there is usually someone like me to put you back together afterwards.' The physician sighs and strides from the chamber leaving the guards to bring Lash with them.

After showering Hannah has dressed in her jet boots and black one-piece costume so it is Boot Bitch or, perhaps Boot Girl, who enters the stableyard looking for Princess. She knows there is no point in going to the infirmary yet and wants something to distract her. She also knows she needs to see Pauline but the slave's stall is empty when Boot Girl looks among the other ponies for the slave. Finally she stops a groom who points to a figure hanging limp between the whipping posts at the far end of the yard.

The figure is Princess; the girl hangs by her wrists, one fastened to each pole, her ankles bound together and lashed to a ring between the posts. She is naked and her body covered in welts and bruises from what appears to have been a savage whipping.

'Quessa passa ?' Boot Girl asks one of the guards.

'The bitch refused to do anything this morning. We think she's upset because that blonde she's caged with was taken by the Angelisch woman. Maitresse Jezebel ordered it before she left yesterday.'

'Ordered Juliana taken ?'

'Don't know her name but this one had to be restrained and gagged over night; went crazy, screaming and ranting, sobbing she was. With Maitresse Jezebel and the rest of you being away we asked the Lieutenant what to do. She said a good whipping would sort her out but we beat her until she passed out and there was no sign of contrition.'

Boot Girl looks up at the unconscious girl. 'Cut her down and put her in her stall.'

'You'll want her bound ?'

'Yes, slave sheath and hobbles.'

'Yes, Madame.' The guard bows and leaves to collect the restraints.


JEZEBEL'S QUARTERS A FEW MINUTES LATER

'Jez, what the fuck have you done ?' Boot Girl is furious and exhausted.

'What was necessary.'

They are in Jezebel's quarters. The villainess has changed and dressed in a clean costume. Tamzin kneels beside her Mistress's chair and Boot Girl looks at her. The slave is collared but naked other than her piercings, her arms restrained tightly behind her back in a blue slave sheath.

Jezebel nods. 'You already know what I have done.' Jezebel's voice is level, controlled.

'Juliana.' Boot Girl rants. 'You gave her to the Angelisch woman.'

'Yes.'

'Why ?'

'Can you not guess ?' Jezebel shows no emotion. 'Matters need concluding.'

Hannah stops, horrified.

'You know, don't you ? You've known all along ? You're the reason we were picked up last night ? Why Lash was tortured in front of me ?'

'You have never been in a war !' It is the first time Hannah has ever heard Jezebel raise her voice.

'Of course I haven't.'

'Then accept my decision that it is best avoided.'

Hannah has noticed that when Jezebel wants something done, she usually uses a specific voice. She does not do that with Hannah, she simply speaks calmly and with reason.

'And who are you to judge ?'

'One who knows more than you.' There are many rumours around the chateau regarding Jezebel, including that she has lived for centuries and fought in the last war, many wars some said.

'But Juliana...'

'One life for many. You saw what was happening in Harmony. They are preparing for war. Two houses, BG, two houses. There will be a war and the north will be left weakened. I know the southern cities. They have been breeding warriors for nearly two hundred years. They may not make clones anymore and you may consider them inferior but they covet what you have in Harmony; flyers and hovercars and all the shit you take for granted. They will come and take it, overwhelm us with sheer numbers. Imagine thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of Lashs, tenacious, strong trained and utterly fearless. I'm sure Dr Betts here will tell you why they were defeated last time and that's not going to happen again.

Boot Girl looks quizzically at Tamzin.

'I used to be a clone scientist.' The redhead shrugs looking almost apologetic. 'The southern clones rebelled, turned on their creators...it saved the north from destruction.'

'That's not going to happen this time.' Jezebel seems to speak with absolute authority.

'But...' Hannah feels tears spring to her eyes.

'No buts BG.' Jezebel looks up at her. 'No ifs, no buts. Time to complete your mission.'

'Why don't you do it ?' Hannah folds her arms across her chest.

Jezebel gives her a look of...she is not sure...pity...disdain. 'We all have our roles to play BG.'

'What...' Hannah's voice trails off. She has been about to ask what roles, what is the brunette talking about but suddenly she feels it's unnecessary. She sighs. 'What do you want me to do ?'

'When you arrived, did you have a plan for getting the princess out ?'

Hannah shrugs. 'Sort of.'

Jezebel looks at her sternly and sighs. 'I have to say I'm disappointed BG. You came highly recommended.'

'I did ?' Hannah wonders how.

'I suggest we make use of the priestess.'

Hannah frowns then seems to understand.

'I steal her robes chariot and princess gets to play pony all the way home ?'

It is Jezebel's turn to frown. 'Almost.'

Realisation strikes Hannah a moment later. 'Oh, no...'

Jezebel smiles. 'I knew I could rely on you.'


GUEST QUARTERS, CASTLE KLAW

The priestess is flushed from exertion when she opens the door of her quarters in response to Jezebel's knock. The expression on her face is oner of anger.

'What do you want nok'gimora ?'

'Charmed, I'm sure.' Jezebel forces a smile. 'May I come in ?'

'Gaia has no place in her heart for your kind.'

Jezebel shrugs. 'To be honest, I have little room in my heart for your mumbo-jumbo but my slave is a little upset and seeks your council.'

The priestess looks from Jezebel to Hannah and then to Pauline standing unsteadily behind naked, restrained and leashed.

'Very well.' The priestess opens the door and allows them in.

The lights of the room are low and the scent of the priestess' perspiring body fills the room. The source of her exertion is obvious, her acolyte hangs in the centre of the room by her bound wrists; the girl is naked save a hood and her skin is covered in fresh welts; she seems barely conscious.

'Religious devotion ?' Jezebel's voice is heavy with sarcasm.

'Punishment purifies the soul.'

'Who's ?'

'Both the giver and the receiver.'

'Yeah, right.' Jezebel moves with a speed that Hannah sees only as a blur of motion. Though a member of a fighting order the priestess stands no chance and in seconds is unconscious on the floor with Jezebel in the process of binding her. The acolyte is struggling weakly aware that something is happening but, hooded and gagged and cannot see what is happening or call out.

'Someone will find her.' Hannah drops Pauline's leash and picks up the priestess' robes. 'Don't worry, I'll deal with that.'

'You can't kept a Gaian priest tied up in your quarters forever.'

'No, I can't.' Jezebel's tone allows no further argument.

'What about the acolyte ?'

'Sensory deprivation hood.' Jezebel looks up from where she is gagging the priestess. 'Make her more attuned to the punishment. I'll release her when the time comes.'

'Are you sure I can't be the priestess ?' Hannah is collecting the acolyte's tack.

'BG. Which of these two do you most resemble ?'

'I'll be wearing the robes. Nobody will notice.'

Jezebel looks meaningfully at Pauline.

'Ok.' Hannah suppresses her annoyance. 'I was only asking. It's just we have a champion pony here, all trained and eager and you're looking to me to take the bit between my teeth.'

'Do you speak Femista ?' Pauline speaks for the first time.

'What ?' Hannah looks up in surprise. 'Of course not ! Well, a bit.'

'Can you recite the six blessings of Gaia ?'

'Number three is something to do with enjoying sex.'

'Then you'd better be the acolyte and hope we don't meet any other priests who test you.'

'You're still the slave here !' Hannah glares up at Pauline.

'Not for much longer it would seem.' Pauline looks down at Hannah. 'Which reminds me, hadn't you better start untying me.'

Hannah throws down the harness and stands, walking behind the helpless brunette. Angrily she begins to unstrap the slave sheath.

'If you two could save your bickering for the road, we really should be getting on.' Jezebel has the unconscious priestess in a slave sack, the woman has been hooded and gagged. The villainess is buckling the outer straps.

'Happy.' Hannah pulls the slave sheath off Pauline's arms and the brunette stretches her shoulders.

'Much better.' Pauline lifts her hands running them luxuriously through her hair and stretching her arms out to the side. Hannah sees the brunette look down at her breasts though the girl resists to temptation to touch them. 'I hope you're going to take the hobbles off too.'

'Yes, Mistress.' Hannah's voice is icy and she scowls as she crouches beside the princess and releases the girl's ankles.

'Thank you.' Pauline accepts the robe Jezebel passes to her and pulls it over her head before shaking it out over her body. The prominence of her breasts is obvious despite the heavy material and she tries in vain to flatten them, the bells in her nipples tinkle.

'Told you I should have been the priestess.' Hannah voices her reproach.

'Your turn.' Jezebel picks up the harness but Hannah folds her hands over her small breasts. 'We don't have much time.' Jezebel's voice is firm.

Hannah scowls and slips out of her costume then her boots. 'Don't forget my boots !' She looks at Pauline and adds pointedly. 'Or my costume.'

Jezebel and Pauline strap Hannah into the acolyte's harness, adjusting it as needed. Hannah is a little shorter than the acolyte and her breasts are a smaller but otherwise they are of similar build. Soon the blonde stands with her arms folded behind her back, forearms strapped together and mitted hands locked to the opposite elbow, there is a high collar buckled snugly around her neck and straps running down her body drawn tightly at her waist; a crotch strap presses against her sex and hoops frame her tiny breasts. Jezebel and Pauline help her into the bladed boots with their thigh high straps and supports.

Pauline picks up the bridle. 'We're forgetting something.' She runs a hand through her hair.

'Not forgotten. Jezebel forces a smile. Just waiting for the right moment.'

'What ?' Hannah looks from one to the other.

Jezebel runs her hand over her head and, once again, Hannah gets a sinking feeling in her stomach.

'You can't.'

'We can.' Pauline seems to be enjoying herself immensely. Distracted momentarily from the loss of Juliana.

They lead Hannah to the bathroom and push her head under the tap then Jezebel shaves her hair.

'I will get you for this.' Hannah looks with horror at her smoothly shaved head.

'Oh, I don't know.' Pauline smiles. 'It's a good look for you.'

'Watch it.' Hannah takes a step towards the brunette but Jezebel grabs her harness and guides her back into the bedchamber.

The priestess has clearly recovered consciousness and is squirming wildly inside the slave sack but has no means of escape and Jezebel steps easily over her. The acolyte is more alert too her head up though hanging helplessly by her wrists and isolated in the hood she can still have no idea what is happening.

Pauline picks up the bridle. 'It'll be easier if you kneel down.'

Hannah rolls her eyes but drops to her knees and opens her mouth to accept the leather covered bit between her teeth. Pauline tightens the bit strap then pulls the rest of the bridle over the kneeling heroine's head. The blinkers are large and immediately block out most of Hannah's vision. She kneels still while the rest of the bridle's straps are tightened and adjusted, her vision further impaired as the crown strap is tightened pulling the cheek straps up to the bridge of her nose; then the plume band is tightened around her forehead and finally the chinstrap pulling her teeth firmly against the bit.

'Comfy ?'

Hannah growls angrily and watches as best she can while Jezebel and Pauline stuff provisions and her boots and costume into the priestess' bags. Then, ten minutes later she is being lead through the castle on a leash by Pauline with Jezebel carrying the wriggling but well contained priestess, hooded and bagged, over her shoulder.

It is some time since Hannah has been in harness. After her arrival in Harmony she worked briefly as a pony before realising she could make more and have more fun as a dancer. She is, however, quite at home on blades and is not much physically inconvenienced by the harness and bridle or the heavy bags hung around her shoulders; even so she glares angrily at Pauline's back.

The priestess' gig is housed in one of the stable buildings. The guard makes no move to stop them as Pauline, robed like the priest leads Hannah past, accompanied by Jezebel who exchanges a few brief words about the likely provenance of the girl in the sack.

'Bit of a fighter.' Jezebel confides. 'Gave Lash quite a night of it.'

Hannah stiffens at the mention of her lover, ex-lover she corrects herself but hears the guard laugh behind her. 'I'll look forward to meeting her Maitresse.'

She then stands patiently as Pauline brings out the gig and fastens her between the shafts. Fifteen minutes later she feels the familiar pressure of a rider climbing aboard. Jezebel stands beside her briefly.

'You're doing the right thing, BG.' The villainess pats her gently on the bottom and, for the moment at least she feels she probably is doing what is right. Then she feels the touch of the whip on her shoulder and she walks on, Pauline guiding her by the reins towards the palace gate.

Hannah can see the guards ahead. The courtyard is dark but she still worries she will be recognised.

'Domina.' The lead guard bows. 'I was not aware you were leaving tonight.'

'I have been commanded to head south, Daughter. I apologise for disturbing you at this late hour. May Gaia's blessings rain upon you.'

'We're not supposed to open the gate at night, Domina.'

'Gaia's plans wait for no woman, my Daughter. I am no threat to you or your mistress.'

The guards exchange glances and then the senior one nods.


CHAPTER 12

THE SOUTHERN FORESTS

Pauline emerges from the river like a fairy spirit; water dripping from her naked body and sparkling around her in the evening sunlight. '.e. !' Hannah is kneeling, still in harness and bridle though Pauline has freed her from the traces. Pauline looks up sweeping her long hair, dripping and glossy, from her face and glares at the kneeling ponygirl. The pair are camped two leagues into the Southern forest some seven leagues west of Linden. Despite Hannah's reluctance the princess has steered her new pony away from the main roads and in what she hopes is a less obvious direction. The forest should also provide cover from an air search should one be ordered and Hannah is grateful for this. La Donna may have lost her sleek modern flyer but she is not completely without air support. 'U..ie .e, .ou .i... !' Hannah is exhausted and in no mood for the princess' indulgences. She had expected to be freed but when they had stopped, Pauline had not only left her harnessed and bridled but made her kneel and cuffed her ankles to her harness to keep her there. Pauline comes to stand over the kneeling girl drying her hair on a towel that she has pulled from the priestess' pack. She squats down, entirely comfortable in her nakedness. 'Look. We have to keep this realistic.' Pauline tries to sound reasonable but Hannah can't help thinking there is a hint of mischief about the way she is treating one of her former guards. 'I'm the domina, you're the suplicanti. I can't just take you out of harness and let you wander around. What if someone comes along ?' Hannah glares at Pauline. '..a. a.ou. ..e .e... ?' It is not usual for Gaian priestesses to be pierced but the nipple bells a probably a giveaway. '.e. .e .oo.e !' Hannah's only accommodation to her new 'mistress' is to lower the volume of her gagged speech. 'Do you know what they do to escaped slaves in the south ?' Pauline's tone hardens. Hannah looks at her, realising she has a point. If she is lucky she will be impaled and, Hannah realises, for her part she will probably suffer the same fate. The blonde, or rather former blonde, nods. 'Good.' Pauline pats the kneeling slave on her newly shaved head earning a gagged growl from the helpless girl. 'And while we're at it, I'm going to have to treat you more severely when people are around.' Pauline has used the whip little, except to make Hannah draw her past a slower gig as they climbed a hill shortly before the end of the afternoon. Hannah had not responded to the gentle touch of the whip or indeed the shake of the reins and Pauline had been forced to deal her a sound lashing across the buttocks and, at least once between the legs simply because it is what a priestess would do. Hannah growls again. 'And, incase we're surprised, I will be treating you very much the same when we are alone.' Pauline picks up the whip and uses it to lift Hannah's chin. 'So you will sleep in bondage, you will obey me and you will endure any punishment I choose to inflict upon you.' Hannah glares at the brunette, struggling in her bonds. 'And, if you do all that, we might just make it back to Harmony without getting impaled in a way that neither if us will enjoy.' Hannah glares at the Princess though she knows the girl is right. 'Look, this was a bloody terrible escape plan.' Pauline stands. 'You deserve to be treated like this just for thinking of it.' Pauline stands behind the kneeling girl and begins to undo her bridle. 'So you can start by washing yourself. You stink, by the way and then I'll give you a lesson in Femista and, if you manage to remember half of what I tell you, I might just let you off with a dozen lashes.' 'Fine !' Hannah grunts as her bit is removed and nods her understanding. 'Dyu, Domina !' Pauline pulls Hannah's head back using the bridle and delivers a sharp blow to the kneeling girl's tiny breasts. 'Dyu, Domina.' Hannah repeats the phrase diligently. 'Benna, Suplicanti.' Pauline removes Hannah's bridle uncoils a length of chain from the chariot. She locks the chain to the collar, the gift from Lash, that is still locked around Hannah's neck and then frees the girl from her harness. Hannah stays kneeling but makes a point of stretching ostentatiously then Pauline cuffs her acolyte's wrists behind her back and allows her to relive herself and bathe.


JEZEBEL'S QUARTERS

'Do you want to talk about it, Mistress ?' Tamzin addresses her Mistress in Bellanian. 'The less you know the better.' Jezebel sits cross-legged in one of her expensive armchairs brooding. Her slave has been bound and gagged since her mistress returned from the priestess' room. Now, finally freed from the gag and hood in which she has spent most of the last twenty four hours she can again speak to her beloved Mistress. Tamzin knows Jezebel has spent most of the night pacing her quarters as she lay in tight bondage hooded and chained to the foot of her mistress' bed by her neck. She has heard the sound of Jezebel playing her cello, a violent jarring piece and then pacing again. At some point during the night, perhaps towards dawn, Jezebel went out for some time, returning and throwing herself into her bed where she lay for what was probably another hour turning frequently before rising and beginning her morning routine. Tamzin kneels with her head bowed like a good slave but glances up at the brunette as she speaks. The slaves arms are stiff from their prolonged confinement but she suppresses any thoughts of asking for release. She does, however, have other desires; helpless and chained she has lain still awaiting her mistress' pleasure but now after over twenty four hours her submissive and partly conditioned body is starting to make its frustration felt; despite the situation she cannot help feeling horny. Tamzin crawls round to kneel in front of her mistress and then lays her head on the woman's booted ankles. She is not a fully trained pleasure slave but she has served her mistress for a year and knows her ways. Jezebel moves to push her away but ends up stroking her red hair, tangled and matted from her confinement in the hood. 'I love you, Mistress.' Jezebel smiles. Humans. The can be so loving and yet... 'Your diligence is noted, Slave.' 'You could say it back.' Tamzin grins. 'It's not that hard.' Jezebel takes a fistful of hair and lifts the slave's head then bends and kisses her. 'I suppose that will have to do.' Tamzin says with a sigh. 'For the moment.' 'I'd offer to fetch you wine, Mistress, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be practical.' 'No, it wouldn't.' Jezebel hooks a finger through the straps of the slave sheath that cross above Tamzin's breasts. 'But then it does make other things rather more practical.' 'Such as ?' 'Your obedience for a start.' 'I'm always obedient, Mistress.' Tamzin looks up at her mistress' face with its pale blue eyes but her body's need draws her gaze down to the top of her mistress' cleavage where Jezebel keeps the remote which controls the vibrators in her piercings. 'I'd say you were obedient when it suited you.' Jezebel notices the direction of her slave's gaze and slips a hand into her corset. 'And I'd say that was slander, Mistress.' 'And I'd say my slave is being very naughty.' 'Beat me, Mistress.' Tamzin curls her lip between her teeth in a way that seems to arouse her mistress. 'Please.' 'Fetch my whip.' Tamzin scampers to obey and is half way to the bed when her vibrators spring to life.


THE SOUTHERN FORESTS

'Tuk, Domina.' Hannah takes the piece of meat from Pauline's hand, chewing and swallowing hungrily. She is still naked and her wrists are still cuffed behind her back; she remains chained to the chariot by her collar. Pauline has spent the last hour administering a crash course in Femista and Hannah's skin is decorated with a variety of whipmarks. Femista is the ancient language intoned by the priests and the basis of Donan and modern Bellanian. With her ability to speak both Donan and Belladonian, a basic knowledge of Angelisch and a functional grasp of Nordish, Hannah has been a quick learner of this new tongue and has avoided the beating she might otherwise have earned. 'Domina ?' 'Ous, Suplicanti ?' 'Domina, Yug est encor disabitti.' It may not be grammatically correct but Hannah manages to make her point. Pauline, the slave girl, Princess has been kept naked for almost a year except when dressed provocatively for her mistress' pleasure and has thus forgotten to replace her robe after bathing. She has, for the last hour been moving around their makeshift camp completely nude. Pauline lifts her hands to her breasts. 'So, I am.' She speaks Bellanian a smile creeping onto her face. 'I suppose I'd better put my robe back on.' 'You should find something to cut those bells off with too.' Hannah says. 'Perhaps.' Pauline walks to the bags over which she has left her clothing, Hannah thinks with a rather exaggerated swing of her hips. The brunette's body is utterly gorgeous although her skin is still bruised from the brutal whipping she so recently endured. As a pleasure slave her body has been trained and toned to perfection through many hours of discipline and training; her legs long and slim, supple, the swell of her calves, the tapering of her smooth thighs; her hips flared, her waist tight, her bottom almost matching Hannah's in its pertness; her breasts when she turns are large and smooth, her nipples huge and inviting. As Pauline bends her legs straight and lightly crossed demonstrating to exquisite tone of her buttocks she flashes her sex for a moment longer than necessary, a basic seduction move known to any slave. The move is not wasted on Hannah who feels her helpless body respond to such a sexually charged display. She is reminded of the time she spent as the princess' slave and sex toy in the palace. Shit ! What am I thinking ? Pauline turns swanking back to the kneeling heroine, her full lips fixed in a stunning smile full-lipped smile, eyes shining, she is holding the robe against her breasts where it teasingly covers one nipple and swings gently in front of her sex as she walks. Hannah can't help watching her. Stop it. Hannah ! 'You know, the role of the Suplicanti is to serve her Domina in all ways that she can.' Pauline crouches before Hannah, spreading her legs; she looks down suggestively at her sex. 'All ways.' 'No !' 'I think you mean 'Non, Domina', but I'll let it pass for a moment.' Pauline smiles and reaches out a finger to trace along Hannah's jaw. 'You've been a very good girl this evening. It would be a shame to spoil it.' Her voice hardens deliberately. 'By whipping you soundly and leaving you in a punishment tie for the night.' She grips Hannah's chin and makes her look directly into her face; a stunningly beautiful face with its deep, dark eyes and long lashes, the high cheekbones and the full lips. 'You wouldn't.' Hannah is trying to rationalise her thoughts. She has not been blind to the change in Pauline, from her arrival when she whipped the newly kidnapped princess through her training and conditioning to the sexual object the brunette has become. Pauline is conditioned both to desire and be desired. Hannah has, she now realises, been seeing the girl in the context of a slave. Part of Hannah's mind is aware that Pauline is using her slave wiles to charm her. and that it is working. Then she thinks of Lash. Not for the first time that day; of the way she has abandoned her lover and feels a knot in her belly that hurts more than her aching muscles. 'I'm tired. I've been playing pony for you all day.' She says irritably. 'And an elegant pony you make.' Pauline's hand slips down Hannah's neck, her finger resting on her collarbone. 'But you haven't had to watch that delicious butt of yours swinging mesmorisingly for fourteen hours.' 'Glad I've been entertaining for you.' Hannah looks away. Pauline's hand slips lower. 'These are lovely too.' She traces a finger over Hannah's tiny breasts then gently touches her nipple. Oh, Lash ! 'Leave them alone.' Hannah deliberately avoids Pauline's gaze though she can feel her nipple stiffen as the brunette touches it. She senses Pauline smile. 'You weren't so reluctant last time I had you in chains.' Pauline's finger circles Hannah's left nipple, teasing it and watching it grow. Hannah can feel herself blushing. 'I didn't have much choice.' 'And you think you have more now ?' Pauline takes Hannah's collar chain in one hand and pinches the kneeling girl's nipple. 'You were just using me then and you're using me again now.' 'Damned right I'm using you now.' The hurt Pauline feels at the remark is clear and frustration spills into her voice, the seductive tone vanishing. 'I'm a conditioned slave. You can have barely imagine how desperate I am for sex at this moment. You're lucky I didn't pull over and make you tongue me before we left Linden.' 'It must be awful.' Hannah can feel tears welling up in her eyes. 'Tongue me or I'll whip that cute butt of yours until it bleeds.' Hannah looks back at the brunette. Pauline again looks like a pleasure slave, desirous and needful and Hannah recalls the warmth she felt in the girl's bed back in Harmony. She also recalls the wall she put up between them. Pauline had clearly worshiped the heroine then and would gladly have taken their relationship further while Hannah seeing herself the streetwise heroine thought the the princess spoiled and childish. Fuck, I'm a mess. Hannah looks into the other girl's eyes again. Pauline is perhaps four years younger than she and, Hannah, now thinks how much more accomplished the girl is. Like Lash... Hannah is suddenly desperately lonely.

'The skies are going to be clear as we go north.' Pauline tells her. 'At the very least we'll have to keep ourselves warm at night somehow.' Hannah nods sadly. Pauline's smile becomes dazzling again. 'You've got to admit, these make a tempting offer.' She lifts her own breast, her finger slipping through the heavy piercing ring and rubs her nipple, making it stiffen and swell. Hannah looks down and then raises her eyes. 'I prefer mine.' Pauline laughs then leans forward and gently kisses Hannah's left nipple, still swollen from her earlier teasing. 'Beautiful.' She licks the nipple. 'Large tits are seriously over-rated.' Despite her feelings, Hannah experiences a surge of pleasure as Pauline bites the nipple gently. 'We may have to disagree over that.' Pauline's words are muffled by the fact she is clinging on to Hannah's nipple. When Pauline releases her grip, Hannah's breathing has quickened. 'So.' Pauline's slips a thumb through each her nipple piercings and leans forward taking hold of Hannah's chest using her own nipple rings to rub Hannah's nipples. 'If we've learned one thing this year it's that your a submissive.' 'And you're not ?' Hannah's voice has softened and betrays the arousal she is beginning to enjoy. 'I've always known it.' Pauline grins. 'But which of us is in bondage ?' Hannah signs.


JEZEBEL'S QUARTERS

'Oooooooohhhhh !' Tamzin comes again. The vibrators in her clitoral and nipple piercings have been running almost constantly since Jezebel activated them some three hours earlier. After being caned bent over her mistress' bed during which she climaxed repeatedly thanks to the stimulation her piercings provided she has pleasured her mistress on the floor, in the chair and in the bed and is now doing so in the shower, kneeling with her wrists cuffed lightly behind her back. Jezebel is washing her hair as the slave tongues her diligently and skillfully and Tamzin feels the woman climax again, pulling the kneeling slave in against her pussy and thrusting her hips forward. Tamzin kneels back enjoying the sensation of the warm water running over her naked body. The persistent buzz of the vibrators is already starting to take her towards another climax. 'I hope you're not planning to come without permission again.' Jezebel smiles then begins to wash the shampoo out of her hair. 'Of course not, Mistress.' Tamzin looks up and smiles with a shy expression. 'A slave wouldst never do that.' 'Not even a semi-conditioned one ?' 'The pleasures can be quite hard to stop sometimes, Mistress.' 'What about twenty three times ?' Tamzin's eyes widen. 'I am sure it wast no more than ten.' Jezebel turns off the shower and regards her slave skeptically. 'Well...maybe fifteen.' Jezebel reaches for a towel. 'Definitely no more than twenty.' Tamzin is about to make it twenty four. 'Slaves who lie to their mistresses suffer severe punishments.' 'Oooookay !' 'Another night chained at the foot of my bed seems appropriate.' 'Yes, Mistress.' Tamzin smiles. 'You will hood me too, won't you ?'


THE LINDEN-MILAN ROAD, DONIA

'I really shouldn't be doing this.' Pauline presses down firmly on Hannah's thigh kneading the stiff muscles. 'If I'd known I was going to play pony all the way to Harmony I might have done a bit more training.' Hannah is staked out on her back using some steel pegs Pauline has found among the priestess' discipline equipment. 'Like you trained me ?' Pauline's lips curl into a smile. They have finally emerged from the forest after a week and are, at last, heading north towards to Donan heartland. They have met few travelers in the forest roads. This is a little used route these days from Linden to Milan, second city of Donia and ancestral home to Lady Simone's family. The route was once important, a major trade road from Angeland in the west with Donia but now most goods are transported via the railway from Soho to Harmony and then down the main highway or, still sometimes along the river to Linden. The forest route is still notorious for brigands and slavers though none would dare take on a Gaian priestess. It is, Pauline continues to reason, not an obvious way for those fleeing north to Harmony to take, especially with two hundred leagues of Donia to traverse. Hannah lifts her head as Pauline moves down to her calves. The princess is naked, kneeling, her glorious body partially hidden by her long dark hair that brushes Hannah's thigh. The heroine can see the girl's heavy breasts with their gold piercing rings glinting in the last of the sunlight. 'If you had decided to rescue me, what was your escape plan ?' Hannah groans dropping her head back. 'I asked you a question, Suplicanti.' Pauline switches to Femista and moves down to massage Hannah's bare feet. 'You could answer now or I could go and get the whip and take it to your feet instead.' She presses her thumbs into the balls of Hannah's feet. 'You really want to know ?' Hannah pauses enjoying the pressure of Pauline's thumbs on her tired feet. 'I...I was going to use my boots and fly you over the lake.' 'What ?' Pauline stops and looks up, her gaze sweeping over Hannah's naked form. 'Look.' Hannah is immediately defensive. 'It was the first plan I came up with then you didn't want to be rescued and...I kind of never got much further than that.' 'Gaia protect us.' Pauline can't help laughing. 'I'm so glad you didn't try to put that into practice.' 'At least I came.' Hannah feels uncomfortable. That's why you couldn't love her. You come from a pony troupe and she's a princess ! She's educated and can do all this shit while you're just a stupid country girl. 'Yes.' Pauline's voice is soft and Hannah thinks she sees the impression of tears in the girl's eyes. 'Yes, you did.' She crawls over Hannah's body, her breasts brushing the helpless girl's belly and then her breasts. Kneeling above the blonde she brushes her long dark hair over the back of her head. Gaia, she is beautiful ! In the tumult of feelings she is experiencing, Hannah tries to think of Lash but her lover's face somehow eludes her. Pauline lowers her head and kisses the heroine gently and then, with increasing passion, her lips are firm and and warm and when her tongue pushes into Hannah's parted lips the heroine arches up her body. They kiss deeply for a long time and Hannah feels her lust building; she is aware of Pauline's breasts and, especially, the girl's nipple rings pressing against her own small breasts. Suddenly Pauline pulls away grinning. 'Gaia, I'm hungry.' Bitch ! Hannah squirms angrily in her bonds angry at how easily her body has responded to the princess' touch to the wiles of this trained pleasure slave. Pauline draws food from the pack. 'Great. Cold meat and fruit.' 'Better than slave porridge.' Hannah cannot resist the jibe. 'And what would you know about that ?'


Pauline keeps Hannah staked down on her back while she feeds her, stooping to place slices of meat and fruit into the helpless girl's mouth and walking around the camp as she eats herself. With her belly filling, Hannah relaxes again and when Pauline pours a tiny drop of the priestess' consecrated wine into her mouth she can't help but smile. As the meal finishes, Pauline teases Hannah by holding a piece of fruit just out of the helpless girl's reach and then she uses her mouth to offer the girl food, ensuring their lips brush as Hannah lifts her head to take it. When they have eaten, Pauline begins again to instruct Hannah in Femista, walking around the heroine with her driving whip and using it to correct Hannah's pronunciation and grammar and chiding her with it when she uses the wrong word. After an hour Hannah has over a dozen red welts across her chest and belly and several on her inner thighs. 'You can go off some people, you know.' Hannah glares up at her Domina. 'One day soon you'll thank me for this.' 'Do you have to whip me ?' 'Have you ever seen a Gaian acolyte without whip marks ?' 'I could be a well behaved one !' 'Are you feeling put upon ?' Pauline arches a dark and eyebrow, perfect despite more than a week of camping at the roadside. 'No ! I'm feeling tired and bruised.' With her belly full, Hannah is beginning to feel sleepy and struggling to concentrate despite the threat of the whip. 'Oh, poor baby.' Pauline crouches beside the helpless girl and strokes her whip across Hannah's belly and breasts. 'Though it is getting late.' Pauline smiles. 'Just one more task to perform.' 'Do I have to ?' 'Well, I can sit on your face until you suffocate or you can use that lovely tongue stud in the way Gaia intended.'


'So how did this Boot Girl thing start ?' Pauline's fingers gently stroke Hannah's swollen sensitive nipples and nibbles at the pony's neck. 'What ?' Hannah squirms slightly, her wrists are chained to the front of her collar and her ankles are hobbled, she lies on her side wrapped in Pauline's arms as they snuggle for warmth under all the robes and blankets they are carrying. It is nearly two weeks since they left Linden and they are skirting Milan avoiding the busy highways despite their disguise. 'Why did you become a heroine ?' 'You really want to know ?' 'Yes.' Pauline pinches Hannah's right nipple, though not hard. 'Domina commmands !' 'Ous, Domina.' Hannah snuggles closer enjoying the warmth of the brunette's body, intensely aware of the large breasts and heavy nipple rings pressing against her back and the firmness of the girl's body. Every now and then she can hear the click of one of Pauline's nipples bells. Once again there is a part of her that wants to enjoy this moment, savour the intimacy. Pauline's left hand slips down Hannah's belly and her fingers work their way between the heroine's thighs. 'Is this a new tactic ?' Hannah squirms with delight. 'Your way to make me talk. Oooh...that's nice.' 'There are many ways to tame a slave !' 'I'm not your slave.' 'You are chained and naked.' Pauline nibbles Hannah's neck and runs he lips up the back of it, kissing her gently. 'I am going to have to shave you again tomorrow.' 'Whatever !' 'So, tell me. Why ?' 'A while after I arrived in Harmony I saw this woman being mugged. She was old, I mean really old, like a hundred and fifty or something. An Angel. There was a gang, the Greens.' 'Hardly a challenge !' Hannah shrugs irritably. 'I was nineteen. I figured she was as new as me in Harmony to be walking round the docks alone at that time of night. I'd nearly had my head kicked in a few times but pony training makes you fit. When the cane for me I ran away mostly but I fought back when I had to. I'd been in a few brawls.' Hannah pauses. 'Are you listening ?' 'Course.' Pauline sounds sleepy. 'I waded in, kicked a few butts and then they turned on me. Seven of them. I thought I was gonna end up in the Tease then this woman, this old woman, started throwing them around like they were dolls or something. I'd never seen anything like it.' Hannah stops again recalling the incident. 'Turns out, of course, she was fucking Madam van Aardt, Mistress of Angelisch Empty Hand.' Hannah smiles. 'She took me to her home and fed me, let me stay there while I found a job; pony girl at first, if you're interested. She started teaching me Empty Hand too. Still does.' Hannah stops. 'You're asleep aren't you ?' Pauline does not reply.

THE GREAT NORTH ROAD, DONIA

Pauline and Hannah are camped just off the road behind a dyke which forms part of the irrigation system of the farmlands through which they are passing. The walled city of Milan lies three day's journey behind them and the road they have been traveling has been a little busier. There are powered vehicles in Donia and modern communication but Milan and it's surrounding farmland still sits decidedly in the past where the fields are worked by hand and most of the traffic is pony carts. Pauline has just removed Hannah from the traces and is preparing to release her from her harness when she hears a voice. 'Tug nos, Domina.' Pauline looks up sharply to see a Gaian priestess standing on the dyke. 'Tug nos.' Pauline nods. 'I saw you ahead in the distance, I thought we might travel together.' The woman jumps down. She is a heavily built woman though Pauline can see none of her because of the real priestess' robes. The princess is relieved she has not disrobed as she has been in the habit of each evening though she has her hood down showing her face. 'Your sublicanti is very fit unlike my own useless slave who has toiled to bring me to you.' Yes ! I bet it's her fault you fat slut ! 'She suffices.' Pauline says non committally. 'Pretty too.' The priestess lifts Hannah's head with the handle of her whip. 'Though I appears you do not beat her enough.' 'I hadn't noticed, Domina. We are all poor dolls of clay fashioned from Gaia's perfect flesh.' 'Indeed.' The priestess smiles thinly. 'Give her to me.' Pauline's eyes widen, though not as much as Hannah's.


'It is but a small gift I ask from you.' The priestess is persistent. 'Something that is, as you have said, unworthy.' 'I am fond of her for all her faults, Domina.' Pauline smiles and bows with all the charm she can muster. In the silent evening, the tinkle of her nipple bells sounds as loud as the ring of temple bells. 'Do you know who I am ?' The priestess draws down her own hood. She is a mature woman, her face pierced and tattooed, clearly a senior priestess. Pauline attacks in hoping to catch the woman by surprise but, for one as large as she, the priestess is surprisingly quick, stepping to the side to avoid Pauline's vicious uppercut. 'How dare you, Domina !' The priestess seethes. 'I'll have you both flogged to death on the Great Temple steps.' The priestess attacks Pauline with a flurry of short quick blows and the princess is forced backwards parrying frantically. Encumbered by the robe she cannot move as quickly as she would like and she is worried about tripping. She knows the canal is close behind her and can feel the mud beneath her bare feet. Shit. She looks at Hannah who is struggling in her bonds but cannot escape. You can do this yourself. Pauline launches a circular kick with as much force as she can muster but the priestess simply takes the blow and grabs the brunette's robe. 'I'm going to enjoy watching you die.' Pauline hits the woman hard in the face and slips out of her robe. That's better. 'Imposter !' The priestess looks at Pauline in disbelief, the rings in her nipples, the bells, her large breasts. 'You are the escaped slave !' Got it in one ! Pauline rolls through the mud towards the chariot and snatches up her whip. The priestess draws her own from beneath her robes. 'I will take you back to your mistress and watch you die slowly, you filthy whore.' Sticks and stones. Pauline tries to focus as they circle, Pauline moving towards the dyke, her fist raised to block any attack from her opponent's whip; then she strikes, flashing out the tip of the whip towards the priestess' face, the woman blocks, catching the leather and stepping back to pull her opponent in close. Pauline sees her moment and dives for the priestess, a flying tackle that unbalances the woman and they both tumble into the canal.


After the warmth of the day the water shocks Pauline with an icy chill almost forcing the deep breath she has taken from her lungs. She can feel the priestess struggling below her but the water is far from clear and their struggles are churning up more mud. The woman is strong and made more so by her panic but her robes, now waterlogged encumber her. Got you now ! The priestess is struggling beneath Pauline at least that is the way it seems at first but she quickly becomes disorientated and when the priestess grabs her by the hair Pauline feels panic rising in herself. You can do this.


There can be only one outcome. Pauline is at home in the water while the priestess, like many southerners cannot swim and has the robes weighing her down; Pauline has prepared herself for entry to the water, the priestess has not. Pauline knows all these things and she knows what this outcome means. She did not consider it when the priestess challenged she entered the combat; she did not realise it when she hurled herself at the woman with the intention of taking her into the water. She knows it now and almost panics. You must do this. Pauline has learnt many lessons during her slavery, about self control, about doing what is required of her; before this was her schooling in Angeland, the harsh regimen inflicted upon her and (although she had perhaps forgotten it) the inspiration of the Angelisch Rose, Lady Kent; then there was her life in the palace, the diligence of Adele... And, as the priestess' struggles begin to weaken, she draws on all these lessons.


Hannah sees Pauline surface, the black water spraying around her. Thank Gaia ! She half expects the priestess to surface behind the princess, drag her down, for the combat to continue but, seeing Pauline reappear after all this time can mean only one thing. Shit ! Hannah stands, still harnessed, watching the brunette strike for the bank and haul herself out onto the mud where she lies gasping and shivering. Frustrated Hannah lumbers over towards her companion, kneeling beside her and covering her with her body. 'A.e .ou, o. ?' Hannah is still bridled and at first Pauline appears not to hear her but then she looks up and releases the bit and one of Hannah's hands. The brunette is shivering uncontrollably and fumbles to free her companion but once she is free, Hannah take the girl in her arms, holding her tight. They stay like this for a long time, Pauline numb with cold and shock. Finally, the heroine releases her enough to disentangle herself from the chariot; she finds a blanket among the baggage which she wraps around the brunette before holding her again. It is a long time before Pauline lifts her head. 'Are you ok ?' Is seems an age since Hannah first asked the question. It is almost dark. 'Yeah.' Pauline reaches out and strokes Hannah's head, the girl is still bridled and harnessed. 'Thanks.' The princess smiles weakly. 'Come on. We need to get you unharnessed and think what we're going to do about the sublicanti.' 'Fuck.' Hannah has forgotten the priestess' pony, presumably still awaiting her mistress on the other side of the dyke. 'What are we going to tell her ?' 'It'll be fine.' Pauline sits up and sweeps her hair away from her face. 'Pass my robe.' Hannah stand and retrieves the stolen priestess' robe from where it has lain in the mud after she shook it off in the fight. It is damp and Pauline shivers again as she pulls it over her head. 'Stay here.' Pauline climbs the dyke and jumps down the other side. Hannah can hear little of what it being said and the conversation appears to be in Femista. She removes the crotch strap of her harness and squats, grateful of the opportunity to relieve herself then she wraps the blanket around her body. After ten minutes or more she hear Pauline call her name and cautiously climbs over the dyke to find the princess standing beside the abandoned chariot. 'What have you done with her ?' 'I didn't...' Pauline stops herself and Hannah knows what she had been about to say. I didn't kill her too. 'I told her that her Domina had lost her mind and challenged me to combat and I had prevailed. I told her that she was now mine but that I did not require another sublicanti. I told her she was free to go.' 'Won't she...won't she tell someone ?' 'I told her that her mistress' wickedness had contaminated her and that she had to purify herself by living in the wilderness for one cycle of the moon and that she was to maintain a vow of silence for that time.' Oh my ! 'And she believed you ?' Pauline smiles. 'Sobo Domina.' I am Domina. 'Which reminds me, I don't recall giving you permission to dress.' 'Forgive me, Domina.' Hannah lets the blanket fall to the ground, willing at this moment to obey utterly the woman who has just saved them. Pauline smiles and hugs her. 'That's the first time I've ever seen you at a loss for words.' Bitch ! 'But we do need to get out of here. I think it's going to be a long night for both of us.' 'Both ?' 'Well, you really.' Pauline smiles and pats Hannah gently on the bottom. 'But I do get to watch that delicious arse of yours again.'


RUE SOIXANTE NEUF, HARMONY, BELLANIA

Hannah trots down Rue 69. Unlike many of Harmony's metal roads, its steel surface is buried partly to allow it to fit in better with old, expensive buildings and shops that run along either side and partly because of the pony parades that happen there on a weekly basis. She feels the touch of the whip on her bottom and, despite her exhaustion, steps into a high trot although it is dark and the street is quiet. Pony on parade ! Hannah grins around her bit despite the dread she feels. She can see the palace ahead, the lights on making the tower stand out among the other darkened buildings. That knot in her belly is back, that fear of what might happen. I wish it wasn't so quiet. All the streets they have passed through Hannah has noticed have been eerily quiet and she recalls the strong military presence that pervaded the city on her last visit. Gaia, are we too late ? Pauline pulls on Hannah's reins and guides her to the palace gatehouse. The building, the New Palace, is a thirty three story tower block built by the current queen to modernise the monarchy. The old palace is now a museum and art gallery. Two armed troopers standing guard level their projectile rifles at Hannah and Pauline. They are dressed in the black of the palace guard but wear combat fatigues rather than their usual dress uniforms. Fuck ! Projectle weapons are outlawed in Harmony; to possess one carries the death sentence; even the military do not carry them in the city limits though they train with them in secret bases. They were banned after the last war, a symbol of a past barbaric age. To Hannah the very sight of them is terrifying. After all this let's hope we don't get shot by mistake. 'What is your business, Domina ?' 'I desire speak with the queen or the Lady Adele.' She's no lady ! 'No woman gets in without strict clearance.' The lead trooper takes a step forward priming her weapon while her colleague peers closely at Hannah. 'Certainly not with us at war.' Hannah's eyes widen and she shivers, suddenly chilled with fear. 'She will see me.' Pauline pauses. 'I invoke code thirty red seven; authorisation four-six-two.' The guards both look up in surprise and the lead hits a button on her jacket. A red light begins to flash and two more troopers emerge from the guardhouse one buttoning up her blouson. The sound of running boots comes from beyond the palace fence. 'Down, both of you.' Behind Hannah, Pauline raises her hands and climbs down from the chariot, prostrating herself face down on the road. Turning, Hannah can see the girl being stripped of her robes and cuffed. Then she takes a sharp blow to the back of the head and knows no more.


Boot Girl is hanging by her wrists and she is naked. She listens carefully before opening her eyes a fraction. She can see her naked body, her small breasts, her bare scalp, her legs spread wide by a steel spreader bar that is locked to steel ankle cuffs. Welcome home, Hannah ! 'Ma'am.' Hannah hears a voice to her right. 'The prisoner is awake.' Hannah turns her head. She is in a steel cell, hanging by chains from the ceiling, she is gagged. There is a guard by the door to her right, presumably the one who has just spoken. The woman is a typical southern belle and for a moment Hannah's imagination whirls uncontrollably fearing she is back in Donia until she realises the woman wears the black livery of House de Renee. The woman regards her with her slightly angular eyes. Like those on the gate she is armed with a projectile rifle and dressed in dark fatigues though currently her jacket hangs over the back of a chair and Hannah can see the black leather vest typically worn by the palace troopers. Beyond her cell there is the sound of a heavy door opening. There are bootsteps on steel plate then her cell door opens. Hannah looks up expectantly. 'Well, well...' It is Adele. Fuck !

'Leave us.' Adele gestures to the southern girl who salutes and, after pausing to pick up her jacket, leaves the cell locking the door behind her. Hannah's sister is dressed in a tight bustiere, breeches and boots; she carries a discipline whip. 'Do you know what this is ?' Adele holds up the discipline whip which Hannah regards nervously. Oh, welcome home Hannah ! Well done on completing your mission. Of course I fucking know what it is. 'Do you ?' Adele raises her voice. I'm gagged, you bitch ! 'It's a fucking discipline whip.' Adele brings the whip down hard on Hannah's breasts. 'Oooooo...' Hannah cries out through her gag her body and legs swinging marionette like in a strange dance of pain. Still a fucking sadist. 'Have you any idea how many times this whip has been used on my tits while you've been swanning around the south fucking that Lash bitch ?' Hannah glares at her sister over the top of the gag. She has managed to suppress thoughts of Lash while traveling with Pauline but the mention of her lover's name reopens wounds that are far more painful than the brief kiss if the whip. 'I asked you a question you little slut !' Adele rakes the whip over Hannah's breasts again catching one of Hannah's nipples. 'Eeeeeeeeeee...' 'What the fuck took you so long ?' Adele strikes her again then tucks the whip into her boot and reaches up to removes Hannah's gag. 'A little gratitude would be appreciated.' Hannah works her jaw. 'I have just rescued your precious princess.' 'Gratitude...!' Adele draws the whip again. 'Will you put that fucking thing down. You won't believe how sensitive my fucking tits are at the moment.' Hannah's small breasts have become less uncomfortable in the month it has taken her to journey north but they are still tender. 'Not as sensitive as they're going to be.' 'Look, I brought her back. It may have taken a while but I've just traipsed five hundred miles playing pony, I've had my head shaved, and, if I'm honest I'd quite like to go home and have a bath; assuming I still have a home.' 'You need to be debriefed first.' 'I'm fucking naked and spreadeagle in your dungeon. I'm really not in a position to hide anything. Does Pauline know I'm here ?' 'Princess de Renee is also being debriefed.' 'I bet she's not chained to a dungeon wall being whipped by a sadistic bitch.' 'Not yet, she's not.' Adele's grin is not pleasant. 'But when I get the chance I'm going to punish her so thoroughly she's wish she was back in slavery.' 'It wasn't her fault she was kidnapped.' Hannah glares down at her sister. 'I seem to recall you were supposed to be guarding her.' Adele brings the whip down hard on Hannah's breasts. 'Fuck.' Adele whips her twice more. 'They do look good by the way.' 'What ?' Hannah gasps, her body racked with pain. 'Your new breasts. They look good on you.' Adele smiles. 'What ?' Hannah looks at her sister in disbelief. 'Not sure about the hairstyle though.' 'You can go off some people.' Hannah can't resist smiling back. Despite her treatment she feels a sense of utter relief at being back in Harmony. 'It's good to have you back.' Adele strokes a hand down Hannah's belly. 'And well done. Even if you were a bit slow.' 'Yeah, well, there were complications.' Hannah is no good at dealing with praise. 'Care to tell me about them ?' Adele raises the whip. 'Do I have to ?' 'You do want to go home ?' 'Ok, but could you let me down ?' 'Not until you tell me a few things I need to know.'


A CELL, THE ROYAL PALACE, HARMONY

Hannah hears the door of her cell open and looks up from where she is crouched over her food bowl. Her wrists are cuffed behind her back and to her ankles keeping her on her knees and she is chained to a heavy ring in the floor by a matching steel collar. She is still naked. 'Hello.' Pauline smiles down at her. The princess is dressed in a black leather bustiere that stretches over her huge breasts, tight leather shorts and thigh boots. 'Hmmm !' Hannah frowns and lowers her head to finish he food. 'Well, at least I'm pleased to see you.' Hannah lifts her head. 'You're not the one who's naked and chained up.' 'Like I was for...oh, how long...about a year ? At least I'm not going to whip you.' 'Your bitch has already done that !' Hannah says vindictively. 'I seem to remember the first time you came to Linden you really hurt me.' 'I had to. Anyway, you were a slave.' Hannah looks up. 'Well, that's all right then.' 'You got your revenge on the journey home. I'd say we're about even.' 'I was a slave for a year. You were my pony for a month and you've only been here a week.' 'It's taken you a week to visit me ?' The cell has no natural light and Hannah has no idea how long she has been kept chained up while Adele has been questioning her. 'Look, I came to make sure you were ok.' Pauline crouches down beside Hannah. Then wrinkles her nose. 'You really smell.' 'Next time your bloody chief torturer questions me I'll ask her to bath me afterwards.' 'She's not torturing you. You're being debriefed.' 'I'm being kept chained up in a fucking dungeon. Your fucking dungeon. Look, I hate to call in a favour but I did rescue you and I really want to go home and...' Hannah looks round for inspiration. '...have a shower, feed myself with my hands...you know, stuff normal people do.' 'I thought you'd decided you were submissive.' 'I've always preferred the northern custom of pledged slavery.' 'I'll have a word with Adele.' Pauline stands then turns to go. Hannah lowers her head and returns to her food.


RUE SOIXANT NEUF, HARMONY

'Do I get some clothes ?' It is three in the morning and Hannah is standing outside the palace with Adele. The heroine is still naked but no longer restrained. 'Here.' Adele passes her a collection of rubber garments. 'I think these will fit.' 'I was planning on going home not clubbing.' 'Best I could do. They came from a whore we pulled out...' 'Spare me.' Hannah shakes out the garments, a rubber bra and knickers, a suspender belt and a pair of high heeled thigh boots. 'What about my own boots ?' Adele passes her a bag. 'Fuel cells are empty. You'll have to walk.' 'Thanks a bunch.' 'You can always come back inside.' 'Kept my cell warm for me have you ?' 'No but I have kept an eye on your flat.' 'My flat ? You mean I still have one ?' 'And your 'guest'.' 'Guest...' Realisation creeps across Hannah's face. 'Rosie ?' 'She's been staying there.' 'Rosie ?' Hannah can't help grinning. She starts to pull on the rubber costume. 'You might want to shower before you try anything with her.' 'She's seen me in a far worse state.' Hannah zips up one of the thigh boots then looks up. 'You haven't 'debriefed' her as well have you ?' 'Of course not.' 'Do you just enjoy torturing me ?' 'There are a few others I like to do it to as well.' Adele looks at Hannah. 'Mostly villainesses.' 'I'm a heroine remember ? One of the good girls.' 'You'll be expecting a reward soon.' 'It would be nice.' 'You're not in prison !' 'Thanks a bunch.' Hannah straightens the suspender belt. 'Welcome.' Adele forces a smile. 'And remember, if you need me again...' Hannah turns. 'You can fuck off !' 'If I need you, I will summon you.' Adele disappears inside the palace.


Hannah feels strange knocking at the front door of her flat but the door has been repaired and she doesn't have a key. It is about five o'clock in the morning and the world is starting to wake up. Rosie answers the door, her short hair in slight disarray and her eyes bleary with sleep. To Hannah she looks as beautiful as she did the first day they met and when the girl smiles Hannah is in love all over again despite her recent loss. 'Han...nah !' Rosie looks down at the blonde's clothing and frowns. 'You can speak.' 'It is dif...ficult to ex...ist in the ci...ty with...out talk...ing.' Rosie wrinkles her nose. 'You sm...ell.' 'Yeah, thanks. Look, can I come in ?' Rosie beckons her inside then hugs her. 'It is so...good...to...see you.' 'Yeah, well...' Hannah finds herself blushing at the fierce intensity with which she wants kiss the brunette; then a wave of guilt and loss washes over her. She steps away from the other girl and the feelings subside. 'Come...' Rosie leads Hannah into the kitchen. Oh great, someone else has taken time to tidy my flat... 'Where did this come from ?' Hannah picks up a 50 Krone note that is lying on the table. 'Your over...se...er, came, Geri. She nee...ded you to work. You dance on the pole.' 'So what, I'm a pole dancer.' The reality of Hannah's existence suddenly closes in on her. 'We on...ly do it for fest...i...vals but I went.' Rosie explains. 'They pay...well.' 'Geri paid you ? She's a stingy bitch.' 'Not Geri. The ci...ty girls - blue stri...ped blou...ses, shorts... They give me ma...ny of these.' She pulls another fifty Krone note out from an envelope by the cooker. So you've taken my flat and my job. Anything else ? 'You we...re Boot Girl !' It is a statement. 'Yeah.' Hannah sighs. 'Don't suppose anyone missed me though.' 'A po...lice girl came for you.' 'I've already been arrested. Well, sort of...' 'No. Your fri...end. Off...ic...er Pep...per. She left you a note.' Rosie pulls a scrap of paper from behind the envelope containing the money and hands it to Hannah. Hannah opens it and looks at it for a moment. 'Probably nothing important.' Hannah screws up the paper and throws it into the bin. Rosie looks at her. 'You cannot read !' Hannah finds herself blushing again. 'Like I say, nothing important.' 'You cannot read.' Rosie persists. 'So ! It's not a crime.' She looks round. 'I need a shower and some food would be good...Something I can eat with my hands.' Rosie smiles and suddenly Hannah feels better.


MOSH TOWERS, AN APARTMENT BLOCK NEAR HANNAH'S

Kobi and Carli are both dressed in PVC lingerie, shiny peep-hole bras and matching split-crotch knickers, Kobi's in black and yellow, Carli's in blue and white; their suspender belts and stocking-tops match too, as do their six inch heels, the clear plastic of their stockings shows off their long toned legs. 'Third night in a row.' Carli frowns slightly as she cuffs Kobi's elbows behind her back. 'Yes, Miss.' Kobi bows her head submissively, hiding the smile that curls on her lips. 'Who'd have thought it ?' 'Indeed.' Carli pulls the elbow cuffs together, drawing her kneeling lover's shoulders back and forcing her breasts out. 'I wouldn't mind changing places, Miss.' Kobi keeps her head bowed, her long dark hair falling either side of her face. 'That's very gracious of you.' Carli leans down and cups her lover's breasts kneading them through their slick plastic coating and then pinching the protruding nipples. 'But I think I can manage.' 'Yes, Miss.' Kobi gasps and lifts her hands but with her elbows cuffed she cannot protect her large breasts; her nipples are still sensitive from her previous two nights in bondage during which they have endured prolonged clamping and a light whipping. A collar follows, shiny and black like the elbow cuffs, four buckles and rings on the front and back to support straps or take a leash. Carli runs her fingers through Kobi's long dark hair as she guides it away from the girl's slim, pale neck then, when the collar is snugly in place she kisses the kneeling girl in the top of her head then, once again her hands drift to her lover's breasts. 'It will be dark in an hour, Miss.' Kobi is always cheeky to her mistress when she plays the submissive role, earning herself considerably more punishment than the more obedient Carli. 'We won't get to the club until midnight at this rate.' 'I can see I'm going to have to gag you again.' 'Now there's a surprise.' Kobi smiles again at the thought and from the pleasure of having her breasts handled. 'Beside's I like your breasts.' 'Yes, Miss, and when I'm completely helpless you can play with them as much as you like.' 'I like your skin too.' Carli kisses Kobi on the shoulder. The kneeling girl's skin is very pale, particularly for a Bellanian. 'I don't'.' Kobi pouts. 'It's alright for you with your golden tan, five minutes in the sun and I have to cover up. If you ever really wanted to punish me you'd just have to stake me out naked in the sun for half an hour. I'd be as red as a lobster.' 'I'd never do that to you, my love.' Carli kisses her above the collar. Kobi, the girl's think has Sylphic ancestry though her mother was Bellanian. Carli releases her grip on her lover's breasts and crouches in front of the kneeling girl to cuff her wrists, running a strap between them and tightening it across her belly. With Kobi's arms now fully restrained, cuffed at the elbows behind her back and the wrists in front of her, Carli can't resist another fondle of the helpless girl's nipples. The two lover's kiss, their passion escalating. 'Miss...' Kobi pulls away first. 'You're slave wants to go dancing.' 'We could get our exercise in a different way.' Carli arches her eyebrows suggestively. 'Sex burns a lot of calories you know.' 'There'll be plenty of time for that later, Miss.' 'Alright.' Carli stands and turns then bends to pick up the gag from the floor keeping her legs straight as she does so. 'Are you flirting with me ?' 'I might be.' Carli holds the position, legs straight, bottom just in front of Kobi's face, her sex exposed by the split in her knickers. 'I like your tits, you like my bum.' Kobi kneels up intending to kiss her lover's tight bottom presented so beautifully in it's blue and white PVC coating but Carli stands and moves away. 'Flirt !' Kobi pouts. Carli ignores her and steps round behind her. 'Open.' Kobi opens her mouth and Carli slides the ball of the gag inside before tightening the strap at the back of the kneeling girl's neck, then she pulls the straps up over the girl's head, centring the ring at the bridge of the kneeling girl's nose and pulling the crown strap down to her collar; she then tightens a second strap below the girl's chin making the device more secure. 'Not answering back now, are you ?' Carli bends and plays with Kobi's breasts. The restrained girl struggles trying to pull away. 'When we get back, I'm going to tie you down very tightly and spend the rest of the night playing with these gorgeous nipples.' Carli releases her grip on Kobi's breasts and retrieves the slave leash. 'Stand.' Kobi obeys, rising easily to her feet with well practiced grace. Carli snaps the leash onto Kobi's collar and, after pausing to pick up her keys, leads her lover out of the front door. The girls live in a downtown apartment near the bank of the Tease. The area was once the place to live in Harmony before the development of the waterfront and is still home to many who cross Dita's bridge each morning on their way to work in the commercial district. Carli leads Kobi down the hallway and calls the lift. While she waits for the car to arrive she turns and plants a kiss on Kobi's gagged lips. By the time the elevator car arrives the girls are pressing their bodies tightly together and as the chime sounds they spring apart slightly flushed.

GERI'S CLUB, HARMONY

Hannah arrives at Geri's, nervous at the reception she will receive. She is wearing the rubber costume that Adele gave her. The heavy rubber bra displays her tiny cleavage rather well and stretches over her big nipples, the matching rubber knickers display her tight bottom, now toned to even greater perfection by her labours as a pony. The black rubber garter belt supports her stack heeled jet boots. 'Hannah ?' Geri smiles taking in Hannah's new look, her eyes lingering on the blonde's new breasts. 'Your hair is shorter.' Hannah runs a hand through her short spiky hair. 'Yeah, you know, new me, new look. Keep the customers happy.' She flashes her best smile, dimples and all. 'My customers, Hannah.' Geri looks at her seriously. 'My customers who you used to perform for before you disappeared without trace.' 'Well, I'm back now.' Hannah tries to sound more confident than she feels. 'And I did send you Rosie.' 'You did send me Rosie.' Geri nods. 'And Rosie is very popular with our, that is my customers. And she turns up on time for all her shifts.' 'You can trust me, Geri. I'm back now, no more running off. Please...' 'Twenty Krowns a night and ten percent of your tips.' 'That's less than I was making before...' 'And it's more than you're making now. Take it of leave it.' 'You're a hard arse, Geri.' 'And my business is still going, even with all the recent troubles.' 'Ok'. 'You can do Dom ?' Geri appraises the blonde again. 'Carmen has left. The recent troubles...joined the troopers.' A flash of Carmen, big breasted and clad in leather arresting and interrogating some unfortunate suspect pops into Hannah's mind. 'Of course.' Hannah flashes her smile. 'Then get some props, you're on in twenty.'


THE MALL, HARMONY

Minx is being punished again. The new pillory in the Mall may as well have been set up just for her based on the frequency with which she is confined within it. She stands naked in the steel frame, wrists and neck pinned by the upper bar and ankles held about eighteen inches apart by the lower one. The tawse, as ever, dangles from her clamped nipples. A large ball gag fills her mouth; it is enough to make her drool which irritates her and to make her jaw ache. It is late at night and the level on which she is confined is largely deserted other than two troopers who are nominally guarding her and a few couples looking for a few moments privacy. The gang leader can hear the throb of music from the clubs on the upper levels mixed with the electronic sound of girls playing Dungeon Bitch and other VR games, the sound of excited voices and drunkenness. She starts as a loud bang echos through the Mall making windows rattle and can hear shouting from the level above. To her it sounds like a concussion grenade. She sees the irony in her confinement; at least they can't blame her for this one. The troopers race up the escalators and above her there is agitation among the crowds, then the fire alarm sounds. A few of the crowd start to make their way down the escalators towards the exits, others using the fire exits above, many simply ignore the alarm. Suddenly Minx finds a girl standing in front of her; the girl's hair is purple and spiked, she has a thin, pretty face and wears a cropped T, also purple stretched over large breasts and a short tartan skirt in coordinating colours. A backpack is slung over one shoulder. Though she is dressed like one of the Moochers, Minx does not recognise her. The girl lifts the tawse and Minx glares at her. The girl meets her gaze and Minx has the sense that she has met this girl before. 'I really should punish you.' Minx rolls her eyes, her nipples ache and her buttocks burn from a particularly vicious beating administered a couple of hours previously by a Gaian priestess. The girl strokes the leather tawse over Minx's breasts, teasing the clamped nipples, currently dusky and exquisitely tender. Minx continues to stare the girl down though bites down subtly on her gag. 'I've always enjoyed nipple torture.' The girl tells Minx conversationally. As she speaks she produces a pair of bolt cutters. Minx's eyes widen as the girl takes hold of the chain between the pilloried girl's nipple clamps and starts to pull. 'When you have breasts like mine I suppose it's not too surprising.' She pulls harder on the chain and, despite her stoicism, Minx squirms in pain. 'You really don't remember me do you ?' Minx shakes her head. 'Then perhaps you remember these.' The girl reaches down and raises the hem of her cropped T shirt lifting it over her breasts exposing her bare and extremely large breasts. Minx looks suddenly nervous, her eyes darting from her stretched nipples to the bolt-cutters and then searching wildly for the trooper who is supposed to be protecting her from those who mean her serious harm. She starts to struggle in the pillory. 'Ah, so you do remember.' Melons Sweet strokes Minx's left nipple with the tip of her bolt cutters. She has discarded her T shirt and stands in front of the helpless Minx bare breasted so that despite her fear Minx's eyes are drawn inexorably to the huge breasts with their large pink and surprisingly erect nipples. Minx swallows nervously.


GERI'S CLUB

'You haven't lost it.' Geri nods appreciatively as Hannah comes off stage. 'I keep myself in shape.' Hannah tries to evade Geri's outstretched hand. 'Ninety percent to the house.' Geri gestures to the ten and twenty Krone bills protruding from Hannah's bra, knickers and boots. 'How much does Rosie get ?' 'I can't discuss another employee's terms.' 'Fuck you !' Hannah begins to pull the bills from her cleavage. 'Nice tits by the way.' Geri counts the money and give's Hannah about eighty Krone. 'Thanks.' Hannah looks down at the small bulges augmented by the heavy rubber bra. 'You have a client.' 'Really.' Hannah looks expectant. 'Carol.' Hannah sags. 'Really, I thought I was a dominant now.' 'You really have been away a long time. She's in the dungeon. Better keep that whip in your boot.' Geri turns away chuckling as she counts the money again.


MOSH TOWERS

The lift doors open to reveal Lee and Logan, another switch couple who live in the building a few floors below Carli and Kobi. It is Lee who is currently in the submissive role, dressed in a figure-hugging purple spandex one-piece and matching ankle high toe boots, the brunette is bound in black rope which weaves an intricate pattern across the soft curves of her lush body in the hentai style. Carli smiles at Logan as she leads Kobi into the lift and both girls admire the rope-work. 'You've been kind to her tonight.' Carli comments. 'She's not naked.' 'Rope burns.' Logan is a southerner, a Donian, and speaks with a soft accent. 'Naked is for the weekend. During the week the suit provides a little cushioning.' Logan is dressed in a red rubber bra and knickers and lifts a bare arm to show red marks around her wrists. 'Guess who was the sub last weekend.' 'Hmmm.' Carli frown and looks at Kobi. 'Think we'll stick to straps and cuffs.' Kobi shrugs, smiling around her gag and looks back at Lee studying her bondage. The brunette is bound with her wrists crossed in the small of her back, her fingers kept well away from any knots, her shoulders are harnessed pulling them back and ropes cross her chest though her small breasts are too small to be bound properly. The suit is cut away around her breasts and thinner ropes encircle the bases of her nipples keeping them sensitive and stiffly erect and allowing them to be used to guide her by use of a nipple leash. The helpless girl also has the pleasure of a tight crotch-rope which is clearly knotted to increase its stimulation and from the flush of her skin it is clear that it is effective. Kobi and Carli have a pair of leather chastity belts that can be locked on to each others' bodies to produce a similar effect; the belts can be fitted with a number of devices but, when going for walks they customarily use the leather covered pad that rubs the wearer's sex as she walks. Lee's long slender legs are also laced into rope sheaths suggesting that by simply entwining a rope between them she can be made even more helpless. Her bondage is completed by a rope bridle that is not unlike the leather one Kobi wears, rope knotted across the girl's face holding a large knotted ball of the nylon cored rope in her mouth and making her drool. The elevator reaches the ground floor and both Carli and Logan lead their respective charges out into the lobby nodding at the large breasted trader from the penthouse who is waiting for the lift accompanied by her blonde slave who is locked into a chain harness.


A PRIVATE ROOM IN GERI'S CLUB

Carol is kneeling on the stone floor; she is naked, her legs spread wide and her head bowed. Her hair has grown and Hannah is surprised to find she is naturally blonde and curly; she looks up as Hannah enters her face registering surprise and pleasure. 'Hannah...Mistress.' She bows her head to cover the blush that rises rapidly spreading across her cheeks and chest. Her breasts are, Hannah thinks, even larger than when she last saw the woman. The city trader in restrained in a heavy rubber sheath that pins her arms tightly behind her and is held in place by a heavy rubber collar. After a few moment she looks up again and Hannah can see a smile playing across the woman's enhanced lips. 'Forgive me, Mistress. I assume I may worship you.' 'You have my permission.' Hannah's tone is far from dominant as she struggles to take in this new aspect of Carol. The woman crawls forward keeping her head bowed, her huge breasts swaying as she does so and then splays her knees surprisingly wide before bending forward at the hips in a gesture that is surprising in its suppleness. Hannah can feel the woman's lips and tongue begin to caress her boots and trembles with an unexpected degree of pleasure. I don't know how much you paid to get a body like that but it was worth every bit. The body is not quite as perfect as Pauline's but on a southern auction block there is little doubt that Carol would fetch a good price even without conditioning. The tightness of the arm sheath that restrains her is evident, black and hard against the soft skin of the kneeling woman's voluptuous curves. Carol's bottom is perfectly sculpted, different to Hannah's own in shape and proportion but almost as enticing and her massive breasts are pressed firmly against her own knees so the heavy flesh can be seen bulging beneath her chest. Hannah leans forward and gently strokes the submissive's bottom with the tip of her crop. 'Yes, please, Mistress.' Carol's plea is interspersed between long languorous licks of her thick pink tongue up to sheer rubber of Hannah's boots. 'You will punish me...won't you...properly...I...mean.' 'I might have to gag you too.' Hannah is starting to remember her role. 'I'd like...that, Mistress, but only...after...I've worshipped you.' Carol looks up and deliberately runs he tongue slowly up the sheer black rubber of Hannah's thigh boot. The woman's dark eyes are wide with lust. When she reaches the top of Hannah's boot she takes the rubber lip in her teeth and pulls it away from her thigh before letting it go with a snap. 'I've been a very naughty girl, Mistress. I need firm discipline.' She looks up, flashing a coy smile and shifts her position slightly so that her enormous breasts appear to clasp Hannah's rubber coated thigh. 'Very firm indeed.' She plants a kiss on the bare flesh of Hannah's hip and then takes the clasp of the dominatrix's rubber knickers in her teeth. Hannah grabs her by the hair and pulls her head away from her side; the hair is soft and thick in her fingers. 'Do you wish to use me now, Mistress ?' Carol is panting with lust. She forces her head back so she can look up at the dominant. 'May I say how very beautiful you are, Mistress ?' Hannah, smiles. 'You may say it, but I might have to punish you for lying.' Carol flashes a smile and makes a point of looking at Hannah's pert bottom now emphasised by the tight rubber knickers. 'You look pretty gorgeous from down here.' 'I really am going to punish you now.' 'I hope so. You will whip my breasts, won't you ? I've just had them done again and they're phenomenally sensitive. My sculptuese says they've been done so many time's they'll probably always be a bit over-responsive. I have constantly erect nipples these days...' Carol leans back and rubs one of her huge nipples against the rubber of Hannah's boot. 'I like yours by the way, small, pert and delightful, just like the rest of you.' 'Gag !' 'Mistress ?' 'Fetch me that muzzle gag over there, the one with the straps.' 'Yes, Mistress.' Carol sounds intensely pleased as she detaches herself from Hannah's legs and crawls towards the rack of gags. 'It's my favourite, you know.' Carol's movements are deliciously seductive. 'I assume I may rise, Mistress.' Carol doesn't wait for the response and stands to take the gag off its peg with her teeth then she drops to her knees and crawls back brazenly displaying her nakedness. She drops the gag at Hannah's feet. 'And those nipple clamps. The ones with the spikes on designed for big nipples like yours.' 'Yes, Mistress.' Carol hurries off to collect the clamps. 'May I say I respond very well to the crop on my breasts but the paddle is more effective on my bottom.' 'You may say it.' Hannah follows the crawling slave and as she stands deliver's a sharp blow to her voluptuous buttocks with her crop. Carol gasps. 'Thank you, Mistress. Would you like me to bend over the spanking frame ?' 'Later perhaps. Now, give me those nipple clamps.' Carol retrieves the clamps with her teeth and turns towards Hannah. Standing, she is a good head above the dominatrix putting Hannah more on a level with the woman's enormous breasts. Hannah reaches to take the clamps but Carol opens her mouth and deliberately drops them. 'Oooops.' The submissive smiles coyly. 'Perhaps we will use the spanking rack.' 'Yes, Mistress.' 'After I've put those on your nipples.' Carol flashes a smile. 'Yes, Mistress.' She drops to her knees and bends to pick up the clamps. 'May I lick your boots again while I'm down here.' 'No.' Carol quivers and then picks the clamps up in her teeth; then she plants a quick kiss on Hannah's booted toe. 'You really do want to be punished.' Hannah nods enthusiastically. '.es, .is.reess.' Her speech is slightly impaired by the clamps between her teeth. Hannah takes the clamps and opens them, they are conical with a twisting mechanism that tightens spiked pads on the wearer's nipples. Carol watches intently as Hannah fastens first a clamp to her right nipple and then one to her left. The flash of pain shows Hannah the severity of the clamps if she has been in any doubt and confirms Carol's story about the sensitivity of her breasts following her recent round of hormone injections. However, the lust that follows clearly shows the submissive side of her nature. 'Spanking rack !' Hannah gestures. Carol smiles. 'Yes, Mistress.' Hannah hooks a finger in the fine chain connecting the submissive's nipple clamps and lead her towards the rack. 'Mistress ?' 'Yes ?' Hannah stops and turns. 'May I come when you spank me ?' 'If you beg.' Hannah gives a little jerk on the nipple chain and Carol follows obediently with a little satisfied gasp of pain, before climbing onto the kneeling platform and positioning herself against the bar of the frame. Hannah guides her forward and clips the nipple chain to a ring on the upright then she straps Carol's ankles and thighs in place before pulling the woman's tightly sheathed arms up behind her. Carol tests her bonds. 'Comfy ?' 'Yes, Mistress, the tighter the better. You know, that gag if you use it, comes with a body harness that has a wicked crotch strap.' 'I'll bear it in mind. I take it you wish to count.' 'Yes, please, Mistress.' Hannah raises her crop. 'Mistress ?' 'I've just doubled your punishment.' 'Thank you, Mistress. It's just...' 'Yes, you submissive harlot ?' 'You will hurt me, won't you ?" 'Of course.' 'It's just that, well, I haven't been whipped for over a week and I'm horny as a bitch on heat.' 'Silence !' Hannah brings the crop down hard on Carol's bottom. Carol gives a soft hiss through her teeth. 'Oh, Gaia that feels good.' 'Count !' 'Yes, Mistress. One...' Hannah strikes her again. 'Two...' They reach twelve before Carol speaks again. 'Mistress, did you know that the slaves in the south are conditioned to come on command ?' 'I'm sorry to disappoint you.' Hannah strikes the woman's bottom again producing another red line on the smooth flesh. 'There are a few that can get pretty close and need little more than a touch from their mistress but I've never come across one who could do it just like that.' Another stroke. 'You can keep a conditioned slave in chastity bondage and then use gel to produce the effect temporarily but it doesn't last. Though I did know one trainer who who was getting pretty close.' 'Oh !' Carol sounds disappointed. I'd love to be conditioned.' Carol's voice has taken on a dreamy quality. 'I mean I've come under the whip a few times but that's with other stimulation.' 'Southern slave training is tough.' 'I could take it.' 'It's not so much taking it as succumbing.' Hannah continues with the whipping. 'It's different to being a pledged slave or a submissive, it goes beyond that. Even dominants can be conditioned.' 'Do doms really make the best slaves ?' 'They can be pretty good but they're a bugger to train. It depends what you want. Subs, really submissive ones are probably the best.' 'Did you see the princess being branded ?' Carol says. 'I watched the stream. She must have been...' 'Probably best not talk about it.' Hannah strikes again. 'Oh, sorry, Mistress.' 'What ?' 'That makes two dozen, Mistress. Are you going to spank me now, Mistress ?' Hannah runs a rubber gloved hand over Carol's bottom and the submissive sighs happily. She lifts her hand and brings it down with a firm slap that causes the woman's bottom to wobble delightfully. 'Oh, Gaia that feels beautiful.' 'You know, it's not supposed to be about you enjoying it.' Carol turns to look at her. 'I'm in tight bondage with my nipples clamped and I'm being spanked by a pert dominatrix in tight rubber. I can't think of many other ways I'd rather spend my evening.' Carol pauses for a moment. 'Except curled at my Mistress' feet I suppose or locked in a slave cage.' Hannah spanks the blonde a dozen more times and it is clear the girl is going to climax. 'Can I say I'm sorry, mistress ?' Carol's breathing is ragged. 'It's too late now, your getting all the punishment you can take.' 'I can take quite a lot.' Carol smiles, shifting in her bonds. Her bottom is red and warm. 'No, I mean that I'm sorry for...before.' 'Before ?' 'I mean...the last time we met...all the times really. I was a rubbish dominant...' 'You were fucking awful.' Hannah smiles at the memory. 'It's just...' Whatever Carol is about to say is lost as she climaxes hard, gasping and then shouting loudly, bucking in her bonds and jerking against the clamps on her huge nipples. Hannah continues to spank the kneeling girl as she shudders from one orgasm to the next, her screams filling the room, until her climax passes. 'Thank you, Mistress.' Carol is panting with exertion. 'I think you should have gagged me.' 'I'll be the judge of that.' Hannah strokes Carol's curly blonde hair gently. 'Yes, Mistress.' Carol's breathing is easing, though her massive chest still lifts and falls, pulling gently on her clamped nipples. 'It's just, well, certain things are expected when you're a trader, the shorts, the blouse, the braces...' 'The tits...' Hannah laughs. Carol looks down. 'Yes, the tits but I feel they're an asset on any slave.' Hannah smiles. 'Oh, yes. In the south many of the most prized slaves have massive tits.' 'Bigger than mine ?' Hannah makes a point of studying them carefully and then runs a rubber gloved finger over one. 'I'm sure these would make an impact.' 'Thank you, Mistress.' Carol seems genuinely pleased with Hannah's assessment of her as potential slave meat. 'Like I say, there are certain things expected of a trader and I... I had to conform.' 'You spent all that time trying to be dominant just to fit in ?' 'It must be wonderful to just be yourself... I mean you just dance and...well, I don't know...' Carol pauses. 'I don't suppose you want a slave do you mistress ?' Hannah is shocked. 'Oh, I just do this to make a living.' Shit, Hannah. You could have let her down a bit more gently. 'Oh.' Carol is less disappointed than Hannah had expected. 'I do know someone who might take you on though.' 'Really.' Carol turns too quickly and yelps as the clamps jerk her sensitive nipples. 'If you're really sure.' 'Oh, I'm sure...Mistress.' Hannah takes a deep breath. 'You really have to be sure, I mean really, really really sure, cos there's no going back.' 'Are you saying you can take me south ?' 'When I've punished you for coming without permission.' 'I thought you hadn't noticed.'

THE MALL

'You know it's lucky for you I'm not a vindictive girl.' Melons says. 'Half the girls I went to school with would be on the verge of doing unspeakable things to you at this moment. Well, actually they'd probably have done them already.' Melons opens the bolt cutters and Minx begins to struggle. 'Hold still.' Still stretching Minx's nipples with the chain in one hand, Melons cuts the locked clamp from Minx's right nipple. Minx blinks back tears from a mix of relief and sudden pain as her crushed nipple is suddenly released, a second later she cannot hold back a gurgled cry as her second nipple is released. Melons massages both of Minx's throbbing nipples as the pilloried girl's breathing settles. Then she uses the bolt cutters with both hands to cut the lock holding the pillory closed. As her arms are freed Minx rolls her stiff shoulders and then rubs her sore buttocks. Then she reaches up and unbuckles the gag, struggling for a moment to pull it out of her mouth and then she tosses it aside. 'So what happens now ? Your revenge is to make me run naked through the Mall ?' 'No. We both run naked through the Mall.' Melons removes her skirt and pulls her T-short off then stands naked next to Minx; she shifts from foot to foot clearly eager to move. 'You've a nice butt by the way.' Melons is becoming familiar with the street slang of Harmony. Minx looks at her companion in surprise. She too is warming her stiff muscles. 'I thought these might help.' Melons opens the ruck sack and pulls out two hover board. Minx looks suspicious. 'Well, you can run all the way if you prefer.' Minx suddenly grins. 'No, these will do.' She grabs one board with her left hand and Melons' left hand with her right. 'C'mon.' They break into a run. At the top of the escalator Minx throws down her hover board and jumps on. The escalators are clear and, as Minx descends, Melons' follows. The lower deck of the Mall is quite busy, crowds watching as troopers and medics tend to the victims of Melons' concussion grenade. Minx turns to Melons as they skim across the middle level of the mall. 'You did this for me ?' 'It was that or tazer the trooper guarding you.' Minx grins and swings her foot accelerating towards the top of the next escalator with Melons close in her wake. They ride the next escalators side by side holding hands over the handrails. 'Where d'u learn to ride a board ?' 'Sandboarding is big in Angeland. It's pretty much the same.' At the bottom of the escalator they almost run into half a dozen troopers and have to swerve violently; Melons almost falls from her board but Minx catches her hand and steadies her. Then they jump from the boards, kick them up and, catching them, start to run with two of the troopers behind them.

THE RIVER TEESE

Hannah leads Carol across the Teese via Dita's bridge. It is not unusual to see a couple heading from a night in the waterside bars back to their apartment in downtown Harmony and it is not unusual for one of that couple to be in tight bondage and following the other on a leash. Carol's arms are still sheathed behind her back and she is now muzzled and blindfolded. Hannah has fitted her with a steel chastity device and leads her on a nipple leash. Other than the chastity belt and a pair of slave boots, Carol is naked. They pass a couple dressed in PVC lingerie, peephole bras and, Hannah suspects split crotch knickers teetering home in toe boots swaying slightly. The girl in front wears blue and white, the pale skinned girl leashed behind her black and yellow. As Hannah passes them she hears the pale-skinned sub comment 'Nice butt' earning her her sharp blow from the dom's bladed whip across her breasts. 'You were just as excited by that slave big tits' the sub adds earning herself blow to the buttocks and a gag. Hannah leaves the couple behind on the bridge and leads Carol into the heart of downtown Harmony, an areas of increasingly vertiginous skyscrapers in glass and chrome. She finds the building she is looking for the stops, glancing around quickly before she grabs hold of Carol and fires her boots, ascending rapidly to land of the roof. A flyer is parked on the far side. She leads Carol towards it. 'Hello BG.' Jezebel emerges from nowhere. 'Do you have to do that ?' Hannah jumps even though she is expecting the meeting. 'Nice colours.' Jezebel smiles taking in Hannah's costume. 'Rubber ?' 'Yeah, well. Time for a change.' 'Tired of your princess already ?' Jezebel appraises the helpless blonde. 'Didn't see you as a breast girl.' 'She's not mine.' Hannah looks nervously about her. 'She has that owned look.' Jezebel smiles. 'The leash and restraints give it away.' 'Just take her south Jez. It's what she wants.' 'Sure ?' Jezebel checks Carol's restraints in a businesslike manner. 'Very.' Hannah looks around again. 'She's not here.' Jezebel pulls hard on Carol's single sleeve. The blonde staggers back and then allows herself to be pulled to her knees. 'Who ?' Hannah feigns innocence. 'You know who I mean.' 'Is she ok ?' Hannah tries hard not to betray her emotion. 'Bloody furious with you.' Jezebel tightens the shoulder straps of Carol's bonds. Hannah sags, thoughts of Lash rekindling her pain. 'You did the right thing BG.' Jezebel pulls on Carol's chastity belt and the woman stand's immediately. 'It doesn't feel like it.' Hannah's voice is hard. 'She'll come round.' Jezebel grins. 'Might take her a couple of hundred years.' 'Just take her.' Hannah throws the leash at Jezebel who catches it deftly. The heroine turns to leave. 'BG !' Hannah turns. 'She misses you too.' 'Fuck off.' Hannah dives over the edge of the roof and fires her boots. Jezebel smiles at the thought of training and selling her new slave.


THE MALL

Minx leads them to a service door which she slams open but instead of going through it she bangs on a grill in the wall beside it in a way that suggests she has done it at least once before. The grill pops open and, crouching, Minx steps through pulling Melons behind her. There is an access shaft behind and the Minx balances on the rungs of the service ladder that runs up one side of the while Melons stands on a small platform. Minx pulls the grill shut beside her as moments later the two troopers run past through the service door without noticing the girl's hiding place. The access shaft is cramped and the girls are forced to stand so close together that their breasts touch. Both are flushed and breathing heavily from the exertion. 'So, is this the point where you tell me what you want for rescuing me ?' Minx asks. Melon's blushes slightly but they are so close together she cannot turn away or hide. 'Why d'u do it ?' Melons shrugs trying to sound casual. 'Oh, y'know. I don't know many people in the city... Certainly nobody I've been as intimate with as you.' Melons confidence returns and she raises her eyebrows suggestively leaning even closer to her companion. 'I thought we could get to know each other and you're the only one I've met who knows how to show a girl a good time.' Minx shifts her weight slightly in response remembering their first encounter and is suddenly very conscious of Melons' breasts pressed against her own. It takes only a second for her grin to turn ferrel then Melons kisses her, or perhaps it is the other way around. Their kiss is passionate and aggressive, almost violent in the way Melons' hand grasps a fistful of Minx hair and her tongue forces its way into Minx's mouth. Minx, holding onto the ladder with one hand and the board with the other, can only squirm with a rising lust. When their lips part they are both gasping but Minx lifts her lips again almost immediately. Melons' holds her by the hair. 'What will Punk say ?' Melon's asks. 'Punk's my friend, not my bitch.' 'She won't be jealous ?' Minx shrugs. 'Punk's fucking at least three of the gang at any one time.' Minx tries to kiss Melons again but the other girl stops her, placing her hand over the gan leader's lips. 'And what about you ?' 'Oh, y'know, when the mood takes me.' 'And does the mood take you now ?' Minx wedges her board in the ladder to free up her hand and puts her fist in Melons' hair. 'What d'u think, Bitch ?' Bitch grins and the girls kiss again.