DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
		Adventures in Personnel Management by Van ©2008 EPILOGUE

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON, USA
TESSERACT WORLD HEADQUARTERS CAMPUS
BUILDING 37A, ROOM 312
Charlotte Paretsky's Lab (a.k.a. "The Fortress of Pulchritude")

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Charlie removed her lab coat and hung it on the clothing tree near her desk.  The current round of tests on the new "ST" project would take all of the next two days, with the robotic apparatus individually examining and sorting nearly ten-thousand vials, searching for samples with the highest concentrations of just the right combination of "Bucky Balls", molecular spheres of carbon atoms.  ST ("Super-Thread") was an exciting project.  If her calculations were correct, she was on the verge of discovering a way to create hybrid carbon spheres laced with traces of various transition metals, and cause them to link into what should be nearly indestructible, helical nano-filiments.  These, in turn, could be woven into fibers of any desired length.  The result would be a fraction of the diameter of a human hair, but should be able to slice through casehardened steel like it was butter!

The possibilities!  Body armor that was as light and flexible as a cotton T-shirt, but would stop a high-caliber bullet!  Aircraft components that weighed a fraction of their titanium alloy counterparts, yet were virtually indestructible!  Suspension bridge cables as thin as parachute cord!  Possibly, even cables strong enough to link satellites or manned space stations at different orbits and milk tidal forces to produce "free" energy!  It was exhilarating!

At the moment, however, it was sit-and-wait boring.  Charlie was caught up on all her other tasks, including skim-checking the automated research journals generated by the semi-autonomous subroutine of the EVE-6900 Nexus that documented and archived her research activities, so there really was nothing to do.  Not to worry.  It was late Friday, before a three-day weekend, and she'd earned herself some time off.

Just then, the lab's main door swooshed open and Jenny Lovell, Charlie's research assistant, entered.  She was wearing an ivory dress, a pair of open-toed, high-heeled pumps, and one of her patented goofy-cute smiles.  "Okay, Boss," she said, "I'm all checked in and certified with Entertainment R&D.  Last chance to tell them you just gotta have me and can't live without me.  Otherwise, startin' Tuesday, I'm gone for six weeks of volunteer VR gaming!"

Charlie smiled back, then dropped into her chair, leaned back, and propped her boots up on her desk.  (They were brand new English riding boots of smooth, gleaming black leather, frightfully expensive, and a gift from Elke.)  Before answering, she straightened her rather short, camel-tan skirt, stretched her arms over her head, then clasped her hands behind her head.  "In the first place, of course I've gotta have you and can't live without you.  And in the second place, I called in every favor I'm owed among the Gamester-Geeks to get you bumped up the line.  Half the campus wants in on being a VR volunteer—so no getting cold feet!"

Jenny giggled.  "I don't have cold feet.  I just wanted to say b'bye before I go romping through the Sylvan Glade."

Huh?"

Jenny affected an expression of smug superiority.  "I've been personally selected by the R&D team leaders to play a Woodland Elf Warrior in the new World of Warcraft Partnership Project!"

"Excellent!" Charlie exclaimed.  "Congratulations!"  (This wasn't really news.  Margo, Elke, and Charlie had all agreed that Jenny Lovell would make a perfect Woodland Elf—seeing how the perky, bubbly brunette was practically half-Elf to begin with.)  "Now," Charlie cautioned, "I hope you realize how important this WoW Partnership thing is to Margo.  No slacking off, okay?"

Jenny scowled in mock disgust.  "Pl-ease," she muttered.  "I've already had that lecture, from the R&D Über-Geeks."  The first generation of TESSERACT VR products intended for home use was only months away from release, and shipping the consoles with WoW portals already installed practically ensured immediate commercial success and an early return on TESSERACT's substantial investment.  This had been drummed into everyone involved in the final testing and debugging.  "Besides," Jenny huffed, "I don't think there's a way that I could slack off at being an Elf-Warrior.  What would I do?  Will myself to forget I have pointy ears?"

Charlie smiled.  "Just be a good little Novice Gamer and learn the interface inside and out."

"Learn the interface?" Jenny scoffed.  "It's so intuitive you can't even call it an interface."

Charlie shook her head.  "Concentrate on thinking like an Elf, rather that being Jenny Lovell pretending to be an Elf.  Once you get used to the 'third person channels', they'll start feeding you 'false memories' to fill out the scenario.  The more in tune with your role you become, the better the heuristic routines will be able to sync you with the game, and the faster you'll advance."

"I just sat through three days of lectures and demos," Jenny reminded her boss, "and 'Becoming One With Your Character' was day one, lecture two."

"Don't be a brat, Jenny," Charlie scolded.  Her dimpled smile made it clear she was just teasing, as always.

"Takes one to know one," Jenny giggled.  "Anyhoo... enjoy the long weekend, Boss.  I'll check in late Tuesday, and tell you how it's going."

"Assuming you don't get yourself captured by the Night Elves in the first ten minutes and spend the next several weeks chained in one of their dungeons."

"Assuming," Jenny agreed, then waved and spun on her heel.  "C'ya!" she said, as she headed for the exit.

"Bye!" Charlie called, just as the door swooshed closed.

Her desktop system bonged and announced—"You've got mail!"  (Charlie's very first, childhood E-mail service had been AOL.  She liked the "old fashioned" notification, and had programmed it into her desktop.)

"Open mailbox," Charlie ordered, then sat up in her chair.  The message was a "Personal" from Elke!  "Open message," she said, and read the contents.

Bug, Meet me at Margo's stable, ASAP. xoxoxo... ;; Elke

The "xoxoxo-dot-dot-dot" meant "infinite hugs and kisses", of course, and ";;" ( the "double wink") was Inner Circle code to let Charlie know she should come prepared to play, without any looming personal business or non-Sisterly entanglements that could spoil the fun.

Charlie shivered with anticipation (and delicious dread).  Close of business on a Friday before a three-day weekend, and Elke wants to play...  BIG surprise.  Charlie focused on the door of the walk-in storage closet near her desk, and her smile turned into a frown.  But why didn't she just sneak in through the Biosphere and grab me?  Does she know I've got it booby-trapped to catch her, the next time she tries?  Just then, the hopper on the test apparatus clicked and hummed as it cycled to the next row of sample vials.  Charlie's smile returned.  She knows I'm workin' on somethin' important, and doesn't want to spoil anything.  What a sweetie!"

Charlie stood, opened the door of the closet in question, and inspected herself in the full-length mirror mounted on the back.  She smoothed her skirt, straightened the front of her taupe, cashmere hoodie-sweater, then grabbed a brush from a closet shelf and primped her hair.  Hmm... maybe I should change, she pondered, then shook her head and set down the brush.  No, Elke likes this outfit.  She won't ruin it.

"Secure the lab for the day!" she ordered the automated system in a loud voice, stepped into the closet, and pulled the door closed behind her.  In response to her words, the overhead lights faded to black, the lab's outer door locked and its indicator panel flashed to display the single word "SECURE", and the various desktops and interface screens around the lab shifted to screensaver mode.  Only the test apparatus remained active, continuing to examine the sample vials, one-by-one, with robotic dedication.

Charlie was already through the secret door in the back of the closet and striding down one of the mirrored corridors of Margo's private domain.

Charlie entered Margo's "Garden", the acres of temperate rainforest sheltered by the prismatic expanse of the Biosphere dome.  She was on her guard as she made her way to Margo's private riding stable (not that it would do her any good), for this was the undisputed domain of The Green Centaur, Narelle Tunney, the Biosphere's Master Gardener and Margo's Riding Mistress.  The tall, blond Aussie was an Inner Circle Sister, of course, but she could be a bit of a wild card, even more so than Kat.  Kat was a known (and notorious) quantity, but Narelle...  She was friendly enough (in a standoffish sort of way) but didn't interact with the other Sisters on a regular basis.  One thing was known, however—Margo's secret stable was sometimes used to shelter ponys of the human variety, and Narelle reveled in their care and training.

Personally, Charlie had never managed to get herself demoted to ponygirl.  She knew Jodi, Lourdes, and even The Mighty Kat had served tours of duty pulling Narelle's garden carts and hauling passengers around the bridal paths, harnessed to one of Narelle's traps.  Granted, Charlie liked a good prank as well as the next mischief-maker; but she had never given cause to appear on the dreaded "Red Queen's Shit-List".  Jodi, of course, had her name preprinted, so all Margo had to do was check it off, but Charlie never pranked Her Majesty.  This was out of love, of course, not fear.  Any and all of her other Sisters were fair game.

Charlie's boots crunched the gravel of the path leading towards the stable.  She paused, swallowed nervously, then continued forward.  Is today the day? she wondered.  Was it Narelle waiting for her to walk into a trap... no pun intended?  Was her long weekend about to become an equestrian holiday?  Well... the E-mail had been from Elke, and it would take Margo or Eve-Prime grade clearance to spoof the R&D mail servers... so... Elke was directly involved, whatever else was going on.  If Elke wants to see me as a ponygirl, Charlie decided, I can take it.  It might even be fun.

Margo's stable was buried under a low, grassy hill, with paddocks on either side, connected by a central tunnel.  Charlie stepped through the gate and into the closest enclosure.  There were a couple of horses corralled to one side, watching Charlie with big, curious eyes, but there was no sign of Elke, or Narelle.  Charlie continued into the tunnel.  She passed the row of horse stalls, as well as the side passages that led to Narelle's office, apartment, and the tack rooms.  There was still no sign of any human presence.  She eased to a halt at the far end of the tunnel, and cautiously peered out into the second paddock.

Charlie smiled, and her breath caught in her throat.  There she was... Elke... dressed in cowboy boots... a pair of ragged, faded, blue denim "Daisy Dukes"... a bikini-top of what appeared to be chamois leather stained to resemble snake skin... and wearing a rolled bandanna as a sweatband.  The shorts were slit up the sides, all the way to the belt loops... and she was gorgeous!  Her strong, well-defined muscles rippled as she hefted a saddle from a robot carrier and unto the top rail of one of the corrals.  Apparently, she was about to saddle the dappled horse within.  Elke was an Amazon Giant! ...especially from Charlie's petite perspective.

The Amazon in question caught sight of Charlie, and smiled.

(A thrill rippled through Charlie's sex and up her spine.)  She's so strong, so beautiful!

"Hey there, Bug!" Elke called, walking towards the tunnel.  "Great timing.  I was just about to saddle Sarah, but now she doesn't have to stand around and wait for us to talk."

"Hey, Elke," Charlie answered, then went up on her toes.  Elke leaned close, and the lovers kissed.

"I got news," Elke said, as she draped an arm over Charlie's shoulders.  "Let's go into Narelle's office."

"Where is Narelle?" Charlie asked.

Elke smiled.  "I think she's off somewhere testing some new equipment, possibly in one of the side chambers."

"Side chambers?"

Elke leaned down and whispered in Charlie's ear.  "The ponygirl stables."

Charlie shivered and rested her cheek against Elke's arm.  "Oh," she whispered back.

"Margo mentioned something about it last week," Elke continued, "about Narelle working on some secret Special Project.  My news is about Barbara Radcliffe."

"Margo's new pilot?"

"The same," Elke nodded.  "She's definitely got the job, and Margo's with her right now, in Glendale, getting to know her."

"In the biblical sense?" Charlie teased.

Elke laughed and nudged Charlie with her hip.  "No, as a new member of her personal staff."

Charlie nearly stumbled in reaction to the impact.  "Watch where you're swingin' that thing, Moose," she complained.  "What about Kat?"

"Kat?" Elke shrugged.  "She's busy doin' something, somewhere."

Charlie snorted in mock disgust.  "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here to keep me up to date on all this stuff."

"Margo said she'd be staying in Southern California for most of next week," Elke clarified, "meaning Margo and Barbara.  Kat, however, is flying back commercial, late tomorrow.  Margo's sent Jodi a message, by the way, asking her to meet Kat at the T-Campus MagLev Station."

"I assume the Trickster's busy putting her affairs in order," Charlie chuckled.

Elke smiled.  "My little sister can take care of herself."

"Yeah, right," Charlie muttered.  "Whatever's going on down there in Glendale—and I'm looking forward to hearing all about it from Her Majesty and/or watching the edited video at the next Inner Circle Popcorn Night—if Kat's coming home early, she'll probably be ready to take something out on somebody.  Remind me to stay away from that part of campus this weekend."

Elke smiled.  "Will do," she purred.

They entered the office and Elke led Charlie to an easy chair. Taking her lover's hand, she flopped into the chair and pulled her onto her lap.

Charlie giggled as she squirmed in Elke's denim-clad lap.  She locked eyes with her blond, tan Amazon Goddess... and they kissed.

Several lip-smacking and tongue thrusting seconds later, they both came up for air.

"Anyway," Elke gasped, "Margo wants us to remind everyone that Barbara Radcliffe is not a member of the Inner Circle, is not a candidate for membership in the Inner Circle, and we're all to treat her with kid gloves."

"Normal kid gloves," Charlie inquired, "as opposed to kid gloves sewn into the interior of one of Kat's armbinders or straitjackets?"

"Cute," Elke chuckled.  "It's 'leer but don't touch'.  Remind everybody at every opportunity.  I'll be doing the same."

"Yes'm," Charlie purred.  "How'd Barbara take Kat's class, by the way.  My A.R.E. experience used to give me nightmares... until I accumulated a dozen more 'adventures' as Kat's friend and they started giving me worse nightmares."

"Margo's impressed by Barbara," Elke responded.  "She used words like 'strong', 'resilient', 'surprising depth', etc.  Apparently, Barbara Radcliffe is one tough cookie."  She shrugged.  "Some of that may be Her Majesty talking up her new pilot; but Barbara's no wilting flower, that seems clear enough."

"Anything else?" Charlie asked, smiling up at her lover, "or can we get back down to business?"

Elke smiled back as she reached for a remote control on a nearby reading table.  "And in the local news..."  She pointed the remote at an HDTV flat-screen across the room, and tapped a key.  The screen displayed the TESSERACT Security Department banner, but it was superimposed on tiled images of the Inner Circle logo, Margo's portrait as the Queen of Hearts.

The logos cleared and a new image appeared.  Charlie gasped... then sighed.  "Wow!" she whispered.  "Talk about your Sexy Librarian!"

Fiona's groping fingers strained to reach the unreachable knots for what felt like the millionth time.  This is so unfair, she fumed.  It's not her turn!  It's not even close to being her turn!  We haven't played in VR in three weeks, and she's tied me up at least a dozen times since then.

Ronnie had lured her into this unused storeroom in the back of the Technical Library for a mid-morning coffee break (and make out session)—and the next thing she knew, her ratfink of a girlfriend/roommate/lover had her wrists tied behind her back, and was pulling several yards of rope out of a gym bag.  Several minutes of strenuous but ultimately futile struggling later, she was lying on the cold, concrete floor with her wrists tied behind her back and her legs lashed together.  Neat, hitched, tight bands of rope framed her breasts and pinned her arms to her sides, pinned her forearms to her waist, bound her legs above and below the knees, and encircled her ankles.

Fiona couldn't even scream for help while Ronnie perpetrated this outrage.  In fact, she dared not scream for help, 'cause it would have come, in the form of her bewildered and scandalized coworkers... her non-Inner Circle bewildered and scandalized coworkers.  And now it was a moot point, as her panties were stuffed in her mouth, along with Ronnie's red silk thong, and several wide strips of silver-gray dermafoam tape were making sure they were in there to stay.

At least she didn't strip me... this time.

Fiona was still wearing her white cotton blouse, dove-gray skirt, and white heels, although the outfit now definitely needed cleaning.  She knew Ronnie liked her as a "Sexy Librarian", and she'd actually begun to cultivate the look.  She had a new, very prim-and-proper suit she'd intended to debut next week, with her hair combed back and pinned in a bun and a pair of totally unnecessary "reading glasses" perched on her nose.  But now it could all rot on the hanger!  It would a snow day in Cuba before she'd wear anything to please that brown-eyed, brown-haired, black-hearted traitor of a ratfink!

So unfair!

She remembered the infuriatingly smug expression on Ronnie's face as she retrieved her gym bag, blew her a kiss, whispered "Bye for now!", and gently closed the door.  This was followed by the sound of a brand new, high-security padlock snapping closed through the hasp on the other side of the foam-core, double-steel portal.  Ronnie had carefully explained that the lock was a very expensive, casehardened, state-of-the-art, non-TESSERACT model, so only she had the key.

And all that was hours ago!  How long is she going to leave me like this?  And what will she do when she returns?

Fiona rolled completely over onto her other side.  She did this, periodically, in a futile quest for comfort.  She had to admit the floor wasn't really cold... but it was hard... and dirty.

Normally, for Fiona, a situation like this would evoke delicious fantasies to match the reality of being kidnapped in the workplace, sequestered in a "secure location", and left to languish in her bonds, contemplating the no doubt unspeakable fate that awaited poor, Damsel-in-Distress Fiona upon the Villainess Ronnie's return—and all the time with her coworkers (and wouldbe rescuers) just a couple of rooms away—but not this time!  Fiona was pissed, and it would take more than a little diddling and a few orgasms for her to forgive her selfish ratfink of a lover.

Fiona struggled against the Ratfink's ropes with all her strength, for several long, pointless seconds—then surrendered to their implacable embrace, again, and let herself relax.  Her breasts heaved and her nostrils flared as lay in her tight, inescapable bonds.

Of course, Fiona thought, what she has in mind is almost certainly a long weekend of didling and orgasms, and I'll forgive her... again... but it's still unfair!

"I know you follow this stuff a lot closer than I do," Charlie said, quietly, "being the Inner Circle Den Mother, and all—but—she's doing it again, isn't she?"

"Ronnie?" Elke inquired.

Charlie nodded.  "Playing games beyond the safety of the Biosphere, unsuspecting civilians in the area, and no possible way of explaining things if they get caught?  Margo's gonna tattoo 'Property of Kat' on her hoo-haw and chain her up in a Katacomb cell for life.  Ronnie's fun, gorgeous, and sharp as a tack... but she just won't learn."

"Things aren't quite far enough out of balance for Her Majesty to do something that drastic," Elke purred, "and we all know Ronnie loves Fiona."

"And vice versa," Charlie agreed.  "No question of that."

"But... she does have something to learn about limits."

"It's Fiona's fault, really," Charlie said, then smiled at Elke's frown.  "No, I'm not 'blaming the victim'.  If Fiona would only learn when and how to push back, Ronnie would be able to control all her dark, delicious impulses."

"You're probably right," Elke sighed, "but Margo has another plan for dealing with Brown Eyes.  I don't entirely approve, but Her Nibs is usually right about such stuff... and it will be interesting."

"What?" Charlie demanded, then jabbed Elke in the ribs when she didn't answer.  "Tell me.  Hey!"

Elke had grabbed Charlie's wrists and was holding them together in her left hand, defeating the diminutive scientist's struggles with humiliating ease.

"Let me go, you Moose!" Charlie complained, continuing to squirm.

Elke chuckled, leaned close, and whispered in her tiny captive's ear.  "If I were you, in this place, surrounded by hidden cabinets full of ponygirl tackle and inescapable stalls, I'd refrain from calling people animal names."

Charlie affected a shy grin.  "Good point," she conceded, then batted her eyes.  "What are you gonna do to me?"

"I plan on indulging all my dark, delicious impulses," Elke whispered, "and by all means, please try and push back.  It won't do you any good, and I'll enjoy it."  She kissed Charlie's ear, then savored the scent of her hair.  "I'm going to peel you out of your pretty clothes, and you're such a weak, tiny little kitten, you won't be able to do anything to stop me.  Then, I'm going to tie you up, saddle Sarah, lay you across my lap, and we're going on a ride to a little cedar grove I've found, tucked between two of the office towers.  We'll camp for the weekend, safe and secure under Margo's dome—but don't count on getting any sleep."

Charlie's lips were curled in a now impudent smile.  "I wonder if Margo has a plan for dealing with you," she whispered.

Elke laughed, leaned close, and kissed Charlie's lips.  Her grip on the petite pixie's wrists never wavered.  "Margo has a plan for dealing with everyone," she purred, and kissed her tiny lover, yet again.

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Chapter 4

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